#@bud: spooks@

[greenglowinspooks]

Btw I have no idea if it’s known about in the wider fandom, but there’s a sizable amount of riddler-centric fics on AO3 where he adopts Steph after he kills/otherwise maims her father. There isn’t a point to this I just thought you all should know about it

[misterpoofofficial]

sometimes i mourn of what could've been the show....

[thedeadthree]

multiples of five for viktor and an oc of your choice please! 💕

ROSIIEEE hii! i hope your doing well dear! <3 THATS MY DEAR BOY. ive had him for EONS he means the world to me AHH. hmm and for the second one in honor of tlou releasing today on hbo! i'll introduce alaia! <3

OC ASK GAME

5. WHAT WAS AN OCS FIRST SLOW DANCE SONG?

i would say MODUS by joji would be a cute first slow dance song for him! i would say first slow dance parter would go to the lucky dear ness (or nessie as he likes to call her <3 shes aj @jendoe's girlie!)! for a goood chunk of his life slow dances wigged him out u know? it's what his parents did at galas, and furthermore, its what people in committed relationships do u know? so it would take a "love of their life" sort to sway prince skittish of long term relationships <3

10. WHICH OC IS THE BIGGEST ROMANTIC?

to be honest i think until nessie he didn't think himself as much of a romantic? and after they become an item (nessie will likely have to go "LISTENN BUB I THINK UR NEAT" or something like that jksankjn bc for all of his banter and etc etc dear boy was like UHH when it came to the art of courting ahjsabjx). but he'll try his best! its like watching a baby dear learn how to walk which is precious but also PRIME opportunity for teasing (affectionate). wanted to be in love but didn't think it was for him u know?

15. WHICH OC HAS THE MOST FRIENDS?

he's a social butterfly my dear boy sure is! of course soap and willa and Garrick and ghost begrudgingly are the besties and price and isi are like parental figures to him <3. radolfo and alejandro (dad wars between him and price kajnsj their time together in that cell was all the convincing ale needed that vik was to be his son jjhsjh) became instant besties of his <3. he has a number of close friends and fringe acquaintances as well! though the one who will hold the candle as his friend of all friends for him would be his late brother aldric <3

20. WHICH OC GETS CRUSHES THE EASIEST?

vik gets crushes like his dogs track mud in his house... ALL THE TIME. the essence of the "falls in love with a new person everyday." hehe <3 he took the cake for that until he met *COUGH*!

25. WHICH OC IS THE MOST PRACTICAL?

hES TrYinG hIS BeST his upbringing he's a nepo baby and his tendency towards the dramatic (stubs his toe? shakespearean tragedy.) he makes an effort for practicality but like his mannerisms in the romantic department its like watching a deer learn how to walk <3 viktor "how much does a banana cost? $50?" mason <3

30. WHICH OC DRESSES THE BEST? THE WORST?

no greater slight he could make to his mother if he didn't put thought into his sense of style bjsbjd and thank the heavens for aldric and his IMMACULATE TASTE bc i am confident dear boy would have considered joggers and a t-shirt as a suitable formal wear jankxdk. he learned all he knows from him! <3

35. WHICH OC PRONOUNCES IT MEH-MEH INSTEAD OF MEME?

his grandma on his moms side in france pronounced it as meh-meh and as a like seven he used to say it that way until aldric told him its MEME not meh-meh habjsbj (after waiting EONS until vik was fifteen to tell him DARN OLDER SIBLINGS). now, its just around graves to get on his nerves <3. he's a twerp!

40. IF ALL YOUR OCS WERE TO GET INTO A GIANT, MCU STYLE FIGHT WHO WOULD WIN?

he survives only bc select clowns would find his "hot mess with a heart of gold" nature endearing <3 he's beelining for roman, ayrenn, vindamea and enya the moment he sees them! strong badass ladies who can break his neck like a twig? AND upon them knowing him for five minutes if anyone touched a hair on his head they'd zero everyone on the scene hehe <3 he's drinking mead with baelor afterwards and running for the HILLS shrieking and tears in his eyes seeing una on the back of the cannibal <3 its fun!

5. WHAT WAS AN OCS FIRST SLOW DANCE SONG?

i think maybe not a first slow dance song but something for a first emotional moment where the bleakness of the post apocalyptic landscape of the world (which members of her family may or may not have been responsible for the outbreak) and its really getting to her.. i think of DEAL ME by MeLoveMeAlot ft KÅIKÅI? the "you can't kill me I'm alive / you gotta deal me i'm alive ... we all know no paradise." i think would be lovely for her in that moment u know? like a hold her while she sways a bit sort of post panic attack moment?

10. WHICH OC IS THE BIGGEST ROMANTIC?

she was the child of seattle socialites and so the notion of romantics came from her admirers verses from her u know? but! she is for sure with the love language of gifting as that was the way she saw her parents expressing their affections and what people around her would do for her. so sort of a romantic but? not really?

15. WHICH OC HAS THE MOST FRIENDS?

i think between her and viktor she would have more friends but none of them she would consider close, acquaintances at best u know? a lot of her friendships in seattle were superficial. a lot of them were more so to have a connection to her name? to say they knew the family? she was little when the outbreak hit the friends she had and their parents it was like that? she needs friends i am PLEADING. these days its easier for her to have dalliances and acquaintances <3

20. WHICH OC GETS CRUSHES THE EASIEST?

crushes? in the year of our lord 2023 post outbreak? not on her life <3 she does have more than a few admirers though in higher circles and in leaving the comforts of home traversing the landscape <3.

25. WHICH OC IS THE MOST PRACTICAL?

alaia actually would have that over dear boy vik! i am still working things out (im doing lore diving as im watching the show rn <3) her step father before the outbreak was a neurosurgeon and he was looking into understanding the outbreak. on her defying her dads wishes and finding survivors outside of FEDRA the things she learned from him and the people around her she took to things rather well!

30. WHICH OC DRESSES THE BEST? THE WORST?

the outbreak broke out in 2003 i believe right? y2k in the post apocalyptic pnw/us fashion icon besties! luxury clothing from the 2000s and 90s inherited from her family! it may be the end times but that didn't mean she had to stop dressing cute!

35. WHICH OC PRONOUNCES IT MEH-MEH INSTEAD OF MEME?

sending memes? in the year of our lord 2023 in a post apocalyptic era? shes asking "huh?" habjwbdjbj in a no-outbreak au, dear girl was pronounces it as memes! <3 or nuisances <3 (rich people u know?)

40. IF ALL YOUR OCS WERE TO GET INTO A GIANT, MCU STYLE FIGHT WHO WOULD WIN?

oh shes not fighting jkanknw <3 fighting? in these chanel boots? she wouldn't dare! she and narcissa and sybille are sipping champagne as the fighting rages!! she would likely if she must use ye olde charm and request damiano to protect her (AND HE OBLIGES *cough* clown <3 but also love that for her! and he's valid for it!) and that's how she walks out of the conflict without a scratch <3

[ssahotchnerr]

Hello, I have a request. How about Aaron going costume shopping and Aaron loses her FOR A MINUTE before he finds her where all the princess and fairy costumes are. Like she is completely mesmerized by costumes that she doesn’t notice Aaron picking her up and saying “I’m reconsidering making you a leash kid, you know” but he doesn’t really mean it and she’s just pointing at a costume “I want this one, daddy!”

jumpscares

i changed this up a tiny bit but the overall concept is still there <33 cw; fem!reader, protective girl dad!aaron (small angst), jack calls reader mom, references to your usual cm violence, halloween and fluff!! wc; 1k

"Dad, c'mon." Jack whined in slight impatience and excitement, prying the door open and hanging back slightly on the handle.

"We can only move so fast bud." Aaron responded, maintaining his current pace. We as in Ellie. Her tiny legs limited her speed, she was practically skipping to keep up with just him. "The costumes aren't going anywhere."

With the holiday quickly approaching and Jack's insistent worries the cool costumes will be gone soon - while you ran necessary errands of your own, he had been tasked with taking the kids to the Halloween store.

Upon entering, Aaron lost Ellie's hand almost immediately as she halted, causing it to slip abruptly from his grasp.

She was frozen in place with her gaze directed forward, keeping a generous distance from the frightful animatronics greeting the three of them at the entrance.

A scowl was on her face; it didn't appear she wasn't necessarily scared, but a mix of disgust and worry were vividly present instead.

"They're not real sweetheart." Aaron tried to reassure, his gaze softening. "They're just decorations."

"I don't like that one." Ellie grabbed his hand, using her other to point at the menacing, horrific clown. "He looks mean."

"He does, doesn't he?" Aaron agreed, his mouth drawing into a pensive line as he played along. "But that's okay. They're meant to be for fun."

"They're not very fun."

The three began wandering through the display of frightful animatronics, led by Jack, a good idea in theory. Jack disciplinarily left Aaron's mouth a few times, as he attempted to get his sister to step on the sensors in order to get spooked.

Ellie ended up in his hold, gripping onto the collar of his t-shirt while Jack indulged himself in getting delightfully jumpscared. She merely watched, each burst of sound causing her to scoot closer into her father, more like her shield.

"Alright, let's find what we came here for." Aaron placed Ellie down, Jack beginning to browse as they reached the costumes. "It is a school night. We can't be out too late."

Selecting a costume, or even brainstorming an idea was bound to a lengthy task, the two of them utterly indecisive. Ellie adored every costume they passed, had to stop, look and point it out. Jack, on the other hand, was pursuing a more silent, observational strategy.

"Anything sticking out?"

"Maybe Spiderman?"

"You never stick to Spiderman." Aaron reminded him with a small smile, the fond memory of when Jack dressed up as him coming to mind - easily within his top five Dad moments of all time.

"Yeah... so maybe not that." Jack breathed out a huff, his eyes continuing to peer around. "Or we can all be superheroes." He poked an adult Batman costume, causing it to sway. "You can be this, and then Mom can be Wonder Woman or something."

Aaron nodded slowly, although he personally didn't plan on dressing up. But could he be persuaded by you and the kids? Maybe. "That could be fun."

"And then Ellie could be Spidergirl-"

Speaking of Ellie, she had grown suspiciously quiet - her chatter stopping altogether. Aaron's eyes shot down, only to find Ellie not besides him.

Jack was the one who verbalized it, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "Where'd Ellie go?"

Panic immediately swept through him, his heart rate heightening and his body succumbing to a numbing freeze. Fuck.

Suddenly, he didn't know whether or not his knowledge of child abductions were an advantage or disadvantage; knowing how to act quickly, but also the unfortunate outcomes.

his mind instantly shot to the conversations he had with victim's familiies with what felt like daily. The scenario had turned- he was in their shoes. And just as they all stated in their interviews: He should've been paying closer attention. He only looked away for a minute. He knew these things - why did he look away?

Attempting to push the statistics in the back of his mind, he was on the move, Jack following right at his heels.

"Ellie?"

Luckily the fear was short lived; she was two aisles over, captivated by the girliest costumes one could imagine, very Ellie-esque.

"Eleanor." Aaron breathed out in relief as he saw his piggytail-headed daughter, sweeping her right off her feet again. "You know better than to wander off."

"I wanna be this." Ellie pried a princess costume off the rack, Aaron paused as he lifted her so she could remove it successfully. "Can I Daddy? I really wanna."

"Well, let's make sure it's your size." He took it, doublechecking and allowing his heart rate to calm down. Upon confirmation, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you want to be this? Or do you want to be a superhero with Jack?"

"I wanna be a princess." Ellie insisted, a pleading tone within her voice. "Pretty please?"

"Sure, if that's what you want. We'll have to find you a crown too, or use one from home, it doesn't seem to be included." She nodded as Aaron tucked the packaging under his elbow, allowing him to hold both it and her. However, his demeanor switched over to one more serious. "But hey, look at me please."

Her adjacent brown eyes met his own; a touch of fault, and sincereness. She knew she had disobeyed in one way or another. And whenever she did, it was written all over on her face.

"No running off, okay?" He instructed sternly, but gently. "It's really important I can always see you, and you can always see me. We don't want you getting lost, yeah?"

She shook her head. "That would be bad."

"Very bad. Mom would not be happy with me if I came home without you." Aaron affirmed, eyebrows raised. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes we do." She replied cheerily, oblivious to the heart attack she had just given her father. "No running away."

"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, exhaling and the tension in his shoulders alleviating. Ellie was fine. No need for further panicking. Everything was fine.

And Jack, ever the dear, comically inputted, a witty grin plastered on his face. "Maybe Ellie should be the Flash instead."

[dibbledoodle]

THEY ARE JUST PALS UHH

Jo and Floyd best buds lol 😂

I heavily referenced the fight between genya and inosuke

And Auri just spooked lol

[smilesatdawnmain]

Have you ever thought of how The Day The World Eclipsed would be, if you made it with Xiotain and MK. Cause like I could see Wukong being ran ragged by two little toddlers. But then I can also imagine how adorable it would be when Macaque met the twins, the original meet scene was adorable, but like it would be even more adorable! Just a thought I had!

WELL DANG IT!!

-----

Macaque's voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Here? You mean... now?" He had anxiously awaited the chance to meet his child, but he hadn't expected it to happen so quickly!

Wukong acknowledged with a nod, his gaze shifting towards the direction his clone was approaching from. Macaque tensed, his eyes tracking the route into the distance. Though there was no one in sight yet, he could clearly hear their approach.

The sound of the nimbus cloud cutting through the air filled his ears along with the chatter of Wukong's clones, who were busy answering trivial questions. And then he heard something else- the faint beating of two tiny hearts.

He inhaled sharply, startled when chirps filled his ears, consuming his waking breath with their high pitched tone and sweet resonance. 

“Two…?” he whispered. He touched his ears, confused and spooked. “I-I hear two??” he looked to Wukong for answers, “Why do I hear two?!”

His ex-partner gave him a puzzled sideways glance, then his lips formed a sheepish smile. "I-I'm sorry Mihou," he stammered, realizing his mistake. In the midst of his excitement and nervousness, he had forgotten to mention a crucial detail about their son's birth. Or should he say, sons? "You thought you heard one heartbeat, but there were actually two," Wukong muttered, his eyes focused on the approaching sounds. "We have twins, Mihou. Beautiful little twins."

"Twins?" Macaque echoed. He took a step back, blinking rapidly as if it would clear the confusion. He had been bracing himself for fatherhood, had been preparing himself for one child, one baby monkey. But two? There was a flutter in his chest that he couldn't describe, an odd mixture of terror and joy. It was too soon. Everything was too sudden. Twins? How could he handle twins?

Just before he could express his worries, Wukong's clone glided into view on a nimbus cloud, swooping around the tree line before landing. The clone dismounted and Macaque quickly slipped behind Wukong's back, hoping to avoid being seen by the curious cubs who were about to appear. Wukong in turn tensed, eyes wide and tail holding perfectly still. He scratched his cheek awkwardly, trying not to smile when he felt Macaque’s hands holding onto his back to steady himself.

“Deep Breathes,” he instructed.

Macaque panted, struggling.

The clone was soon joined by the rest of his fellow clones, each of them grinning with the joy of introducing the two newest members of their family to Macaque. They stood aside to allow Wukong's original body to step forward, making room for him to approach the eagerly chirping young ones, who seemed engulfed in their own little conversation. The toddlers each with their own little backpack, filled with things for their day.

Xiaohua was attempting to descend from the cloud, his pudgy leg reaching out in search of solid ground but coming up short. He chirped a call for his Daddy to help him, all while MK watched curiously. One of the clones stepped closer, scooping Xiaohua up from his arm pits to instead settle him back on the cloud.

“Wait a moment, Bud,” the clone mused. Xiaohua pouted, wanting to explore.

Macaque's heart raced, finding it was hard to breathe. His mind spun with questions, his pulse thrumming in time with the joyful chirps. As Wukong grinned and walked forward, Macaque swallowed hard, his palms sweating against each other as he clutched his ex-partner’s back tighter, half hiding behind him.

"Wukong," Macaque stammered, unable to look at his ex-lover as he tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. "I... I can't, I..."

"Shh, it's okay," Wukong cut in gently, reaching back to squeeze Macaque's hand reassuringly. "You don't need to do anything. Just meet them." there was a small twinkle in his eyes, “They are excited to meet you.”

Macaque sharply lifted his head, “They are…?”

"Of course," Wukong replied warmly. "They've heard so much about their Baba, they can't wait to meet you." He extended his arm out for Macaque to come out.

Macaque hesitated for a moment longer before slowly stepping out from Wukong's back.

His heart thumped against his ribcage as he stood in front of the two tiny monkeys. Their eyes were brimming with innocence and wonder, their features an endearing blend of their parents' traits.

“Oh…” Macaque whimpered, these two everything he thought they would be and more. Macaque touched his chest in awe, happy to just- just stare. They were so small and perfect. One had chocolate brown fur, his eyes as golden as Wukong’s with six little ears on his head like him. On his face was a little heart with a spot of freckles upon his chubby cheeks. The second, had fur almost pure white, like when he himself was little, before it turned black. He had Macaque’s color face marking, that shaped similar to a butterfly. Macaque’s eye brows, Macaque’s eyes… But both had Wukong’s grin.

He made a sound similar to a whimper.

"Dada!" The little one with golden eyes, MK, chimed, breaking the silence. He had noticed his Father and stood, pausing when he saw Macaque. His eyes doubled in size to the stranger and yet- he knew who this was. His Dada had been telling him all week. This was his Baba.

His Baba he was finally getting to meet.

Wukong grinned as he waited for Macaque to speak and introduce himself. Instead, all Macaque did was gape, speechless under the magnitude of the moment.The toddlers were oblivious to how their appearance had turned their Father into a stammering mess, just curious of this new adult.

“Xiaoxiao-” ML reached out for his Brother’s hand, who was still preoccupied by the new land around them, distracted. “Xiaoxiao,” silencing the chippering scamp to also turn his head, MK pointed to their Baba. “Look,” As soon as Xiaohua saw Macaque he ducked his head a little behind his brother, clearly shy.

“Macaque, this is Xiaotian and Xiaohua.” Wukong gestured to them both. “Boys… Meet your Baba.” Wukong added softly, reaching over to gently squeeze Macaque's shoulder. "This is your Father."

The little one with white fur, Xiaohua, peeked up from behind his brother, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and shyness. He'd heard stories about his Baba, tales of bravery and strength and kindness. And now here he was, standing right in front of him, as pretty as the moon.

Macaque sucked in a sharp breath as he looked at them, his heart aching with an overwhelming surge of love. He was entranced by their curious gazes and the familiarity of their features - the softness of their cheeks and eyes. They were perfect. Everything he dreamed they would be. Oh gods-… he was gonna cry.

"Wukong," Macaque managed to choke out, his voice blubbering, "They're... they're beautiful." He reached out a shaky hand, as if to touch them, but quickly retracting it as if he thought he might burn them if he did.

Seeing his struggles, Wukong shifted with his hand to lower the nimbus cloud to the ground, slowly guiding Macaque in the same direction, “Let’s all sit down,” he says gently. Macaque didn’t try to argue, letting himself be lowered to his trembling knees.

The world felt surreal as Macaque settled on the soft grass, the ground cradling him in a way that felt both grounding and weightless at the same time. As he sat there, surrounded by the warmth of Wukong’s presence and the innocent awe radiating from his children, he finally exhaled—a long, shaky breath that released a cascade of emotions he hadn’t known he was holding.

This was real.

This was happening.

He was a Baba.

"Come here, loves," Wukong encouraged softly, motioning for Xiaotian and Xiaohua to join them. The boys looked at each other, sharing a glance. As they debated listening to their Dada, Macaque’s ears flattened, a strange heat on his face.

Wukong’s soft and sweet call to the kids had been… adorably sweet, and it had startled him. They were his loves…

He cursed himself for finding his sweetness to them endearing.

“Coming, Dada,” MK was rolling off the cloud first, a bit braver to strangers then his Brother. He wobbled forward, sniffing the hair with a velvety nose. Xiaohua quickly followed suit, his small face peering up at Macaque from behind MK. As soon as they got close enough to his Dada, realizing MK wasn’t going to stop-, he rushed from behind Xiaotian to Wukong, hiding behind his back just as Macaque had a little bit ago. “Daddy,” he whispered.

Wukong smiles, rubbing Xiaohua’s back assuringly, “Yes?”

The child’s fingers clung tightly to Wukong’s shirt, his eyes never leaving Macaque’s face. “He’s got six ears, Daddy,” he pointed to them.

MK was bouncing, grasping his ears, “Like me!!”

Xiaohua nodded, “Like MK…”

“MK?” Macaque asked, looking at Wukong. Wukong blinked a few times then laughed sheepishly again.

“Like um.. M-Monkey Kid?” he says.

Macaque’s jaw fell open, stunned, yet also not surprised at all that Wukong would name on of their sons after him… AND ADORABLY SO! He clicked his teeth in a clear annoyance, but paused when MK patted his chest.

“Monkey Kid!” he declared, a savior to his Father, who exhaled in relief. “And Xiaoxiao is- uh… Xiaoxiao.”

“I’m Xiaoxiao,” the other toddler nodded, stepping out a bit more, “I-I like- I like Mangos.”

Macaque stared at him, a soft smile spreading across his face. What an innocent thing to say. “Mangos, hm?”

“I like peaches!” MK waved his hands around, getting close enough to stand before his Baba. Without hesitation he was scampering into Macaque’s lap, eager to touch is clothes, his scarf, and the fur of his arms. Macaque held perfectly still, letting the child do as he wished. His lips were squiggly, trying to hold back any tears.

The child smelled like sweetbread and milk, so sweet and eyes so round. He was talking more and more, Macaque bobbing his head and listening intently.

“I like to color, and paint- but I gotta be careful cause-cause I make messes. I help clean messes.” he babbled a few things, most slurred and unable to be fully understood in his toddler talk.

“I-I see,” Macaque nodded, his voice strangled but his smile sweet.

Xiaohua peeked out from behind Wukong, his shyness still evident in the way he tucked his chin. Still, it looked like so much fun over there-, “Daddy, can I… can I sit with Baba too?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“Of course you can,” Wukong replied, his tone gentle and encouraging. He bent down slightly, offering a reassuring smile that seemed to fill the air with warmth. “Go on, It’s okay.”

Macaque turned his head quickly to the approaching toddler, eyes wide. He swallowed thickly, slowly opening his arm a little in hopes to entice the boy closer.

With hesitant steps, Xiaohua made his way forward, glancing back at Wukong for reassurance before flopping into Macaque's lap beside MK. MK didn’t stop talking the entire time, his tail wagging and slapping at Macaque’s arm with little control.

“And I like juice and toys and- Hi Xiaoxiao- and blankies and—and Dada’s stories!” MK beamed, his enthusiasm spilling over like a bubbling pot.

Xiaohua nestled closer to Macaque, drawn in by the warmth radiating from his Baba. A shy smile broke through his timid demeanor as he clutched the edges of Macaque's scarf, feeling its silky softness between his fingers.

Macaque’s heart swelled with an unfamiliar joy, and it was all he could do not to break into a grin. He felt like a giant in their little world, these tiny beings weaving themselves into his life with laughter and innocence. “Stories, hmm?” he repeated softly, looking between the two boys.

“I like stories,” Xiaohua whispered.

“Do you?” Macaque’s voice was a melody, soothing and rich as he leaned closer to the boys. “What kind of stories do you like?” He closed one of his eyes when MK suddenly touched his cheek, startled when his pudgy hand curiously explored the expanse of his Baba’s face.

“Adventures!” MK shouted excitedly, his eyes sparkling, “Like when Dada fights bad guys and saves everyone!”

“Adventures,” Xiaohua nodded. He reached his little hand up to copy his brother, hesitating. Instead he touched Macaque’s chin lightly, curling his fingers through the fur there.

Macaque turned into his hand a little, eyes fluttering for a moment. Xiaohua smelled like wild mountain flowers…

The two of them together had to be the sweetest smell he had ever encountered.

MK gently patted Macaque’s velvety muzzle. He watched the older monky wiggle his nose in response, and felt his own nose crinkle in anticipation. MK examined Macaque's facial marking next. It was a deeper shade of red than his own, with intricate little hills that forked off from the center in a unique pattern. The color was like Xiaoxiao’s.

Then, there was his fur.

MK’s fingertips ran across the small white patch of fur near Macaque’s right eye. Perhaps age, perhaps stress- perhaps the effects of the Witch's magic; Macaque wasn't sure.

At the touch of it, Mihou flinched, holding his breath as his Child investigated, tilting his head curiously at the altering color of fur. Delving into the blacker tufts, he rubbed the strands between his fingers.

"Its..." he trailed off. Macaque's lower lip trembled, not sure how to explain that his fur just wasn't that soft. MK's eyes lifted, a sparkle to them. "XiaoXiao,” he gasped, as if realizing something and wanting to share with his Brother.

“It’s like blankie,"Xiaoxiao had already caught on, curiously touching Macaque’s fur.

Macaque openly stared. Huh??

MK and Xiaohua tugged themselves closer, tails swaying behind them as they examined their Baba for the first time. Little fingers exploring, searching, mapping out Macaque’s face to memory as they had done with their Dada so many times before. 

“They have a blanket,” Wukong spoke, since the children were too distracted to answer, “It’s their favorite thing. I’ve used it since they were babies,” when Macaque looked at him with an emotional look, his voice grew softer, “You remind them of their favorite thing.”

Macaque blinked, the weight of Wukong's words settling over him like a gentle fog. He felt a rush of warmth bloom in his chest, an unfamiliar tightening that tugged at something deep within. "Like their favorite thing," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. The thought echoed in his mind as he continued to feel the boys' tiny hands traversing the terrain of his fur, discovering every ridge and curve. MK didn’t hesitate to bury his face against Macaque’s shoulder to nuzzle him, startling the older man.

He dare not move, shifted, or lift his arms, less he scare the children- but that didn’t seem to stop them from doing whatever they wished with his own form.

“Baba,” MK tells him, watching Macaque’s eyes tremble at the use of the name, “You smell like chocolate.”

Xiaohua gasped, standing on his Baba’s lap to press his face to his neck. “Chocolate?” he gasped, making Wukong snicker, knowing how much his second son loved the treat, “Chocolate!!” he squealed.

Macaque blinked a few times, trying to sniff his own fur. When Wukong only nodded knowingly, he figured it had to be true.

Macaque stared at his son, mouth agape. His brow furrowed as he opened and closed his mouth in slow motion, unable to find the right words.

MK scampered up Macaque's arm and onto his shoulder, chittering excitedly with an unmistakable tone of acceptance, adoration, and delight. Xiaohua was bouncing, giggling as his shyness fell, touching Macaque’s ears next. He rubbed them, always touching MK’s ears too since they were soft. Macaque felt awash with elation as MK and Xiaohua squeaked in admiration.

He understood nothing that was happening, but his children seemed happy with him. His children... liked him.

Macaque's voice sputtered out like a radio station losing its signal. "MM-hmm," he managed to utter, but his ears betrayed him as they twitched in different directions. His vision blurred...

He quietly cursed.

Macaque’s face crumpled, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his scarf. His body trembled as the silent sobs wracked him.

Wukong’s broad smile faded as he watched those heartbreaking tears. His heart yearned to reach out and brush away the tears that had started to roll down Mihou's cheeks, but he stayed rooted in his spot, feeling helpless. He wanted to offer Mihou comfort, yet his presence seemed like the last thing Mihou desired. 

“Oo…” Xiaohua felt a droplet fall onto his nose and looked up to see the monkey's eyes closed, face wet and quivering. His chest heaved with emotion as his children reached up and tenderly patted his stained cheek. “Baba sad?” Xiaohua asked. He got a little closer, hugging the man and pressing his head to his chest. MK hugged Macaque’s head, patting it.

“Shh..shh..” He leaned up and gently pressed his lips to Macaque's chin, just like his Dada had done when he was feeling down.

Macaque's shoulders sagged, and a whimper escaped his lips. He tugged the boys further into his arms, his hands trembling.

His sons. His babies.

He was never letting them go again.

----

HOW DARE YOU PUT THIS IN MY BRAINNNNN!

[ripeandsoft]

Your thighs shook around his waist, bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you muffled a moan. The leaking, fat tip of his dick massaged your spot just right making you cling to him tighter. “I know baby, just let me in it” he spoke into your ear. Your essence dripped onto the sheets, the room filled with the wet sounds of you being stretched around him. Your clit buzzed with sensitivity, his thumb rubbing relentless circles around the swollen bud. “I, ugh fuck, I can’t” you pressed your toes into his hips in attempts to push him out but he simply took your thighs in his hands, pushing them back towards your chest. He continued his pace, deep thrusts making the fat of your stomach, thighs, and tits jiggle under the force. “Don’t worry ‘bout what you can take” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss you slow. His tongue massaged over yours, your shared spit dibbling slowly down your chin as he pressed you further into the mattress.

You tightened around him as you felt your orgasm build in your stomach. Your curls were squished against the pillow as you rolled your head back, eyes following suit as the pleasure built. You felt yourself growing closer and close-

—

“Your papers and presentations will be due next week on Thursday at 11:30, I expect you all to be on time. That’s it for today, class dismissed” Professor Richmond spoke to the nearly full lecture hall, spooking you from your fantasy. You blinked fast as you came back to earth, hands coming up to rub your eyes as they adjusted to the harsh lighting. You took a deep breath as students started to file out of the lecture hall, the emptying room making it easier to breathe.

You packed up your stuff quickly, your notebook, laptop, and pens stuffed into your bag. You walked fast to the door, fighting the numbness in your legs from sitting so long. Before you could pull the handle Professor Richmond called from behind you.

“Could you stay back for a minute?”

[obislittleone]

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am

Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.

Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.

MASTERLIST

Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

It had been almost three days.

You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.

"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.

"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.

It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.

Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'

You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.

"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."

You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.

"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.

He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.

"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.

"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.

"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."

His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.

"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."

You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.

Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.

"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.

"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.

You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.

You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.

"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."

"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.

"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.

Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.

It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.

She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.

You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.

"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"

You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.

"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."

Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.

"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."

You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

Did he just-?

"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."

You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.

You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.

"What kinda interior stuff?"

He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.

"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."

You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.

"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.

"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."

It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.

"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.

Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.

"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"

Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.

"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.

"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.

"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.

Joel was the first one to stand up with you.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.

"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.

"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.

"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.

You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.

"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.

"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"

She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.

"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.

She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.

"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."

"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.

-

The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.

He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.

When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.

You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.

"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.

"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.

"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.

"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."

He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.

"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.

"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."

You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.

"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.

"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."

"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.

You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.

You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:

Missin you down here…

You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.

I’d come back if there was an open seat.

A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.

Open seat right next to me

Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…

You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.

You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.

I can’t either. Stay up there.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.

Wasn’t thinking about leavin.

This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.

“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”

Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.

“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”

He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.

“I’ll think about it.”

His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.

He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?

The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.

It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.

He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.

“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.

“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”

They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.

“Leavin’ already?”

They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.

“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.

“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”

You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-

He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.

You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.

He just bro hugged you. This man just-

He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.

“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”

“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”

You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.

You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.

“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.

You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.

“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”

"Seems like the fair thing to do."

“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.

You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.

He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.

“Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.

“You wanna come inside a while?”

Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.

“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.

“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.

He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.

“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”

He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.

“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.

“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.

“You think I’m handsome?”

He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.

“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.

“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”

You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?

“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.

“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.

“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”

It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.

“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”

“Oh, do you?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”

You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.

“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”

He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.

“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.

“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.

When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.

“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”

You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.

“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”

“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”

You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.

And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.

There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.

“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.

The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.

He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.

He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.

“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.

He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.

The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.

The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.

“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”

He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.

“Let go , baby.”

You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.

You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.

The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.

“You wanna stay over?”

-

Tags (open):

@justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee

If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!

[earl-grey-teacake]

of course have to go with #7 what if my world is becoming you?

💙+��� Here’s a snippet

***********

Oscar

I think I am in love with Logan.

Lando

You think?

Everyone knows that.

Oscar

Yes, Lando. I think.

I am sort of reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Lando

Oh, you’re not joking

You just realized it

Oscar

What do you mean by everyone?

Lando

I mean you aren’t exactly subtle

That time in Vegas where you said you were close to Logan

And would hang out with him

Oscar

Yeah, as friends. We were hanging out as friends.

Lando

I’m friends with George and Alex

And I do not look at them the way you look at Logan.

Besides, remember that one time I wanted to play

a prank on Logan and you freaked out and stopped me

Oscar

Logan is anxious and can be easily spooked

I didn’t want him to be anxious around everyone so early

Lando

The time we went out to dinner with Alex and Logan

and you just started taking the black olives off Logan’s plate

because you knew he didn’t like them

Oscar

Those are friend things!

I eat the stuff you don’t like all the time

Lando

Yeah, because I put them on your plate

You didn’t see me taking things off of Alex’s plate

Oscar

You have the taste buds of a 5-year old

Lando

So are you going to tell him???

Oscar

Tell him?

Lando

You know

Tell him I LOVE YOU

“I want to race you with forever

You are the love of my life since we were teenagers”

Oscar

WHAT?!

NO!

WHY WOULD I TELL HIM THAT?

NO!

************

Please Enjoy!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

How would the main 10 react if they were sleeping in the same bed as an S/O who had a nightmare, and when they woke up was scared of the skelly for just a moment? Like who would be offended vs. just concerned? Sorry if this has been asked before! I thought I looked hard enough.

Undertale Sans - Definitely concerned. He knows what bad nightmares are. He waits for you to calm down before slowly asking if you want to discuss it. Sans is good at finding words to comfort you so you two can go back to sleep.

Undertale Papyrus - He's very concerned. He lived this scenario a lot with Sans already, so he doesn't mind you being a bit scared. He pats your back until you feel better then starts to talk about random things to change your ideas.

Underswap Sans - He jumps a little at your stare but doesn't take offense more than that. He's just relieved you're ok. Now, he's not the best at comforting people, but he tries some bad jokes to change your ideas.

Underswap Papyrus - He hugs his S/O tight until they're fine again. Honey is a bit concerned, but he knows how bad nightmares can be. He shows he's there for you and will keep you in his arms until you fall back asleep.

Underfell Sans - It hurts a bit, but it's not important. Red can tell you're not ok right now and he prefers to focus on that. He asks you if you're ok, and then awkwardly pets your back or your head to comfort you. He's not sure he's doing it right, but he's trying.

Underfell Papyrus - It definitely hurts. He was about to hug you but he freezes at your reaction and then decides to give you some space. He's unsure what to do or say as he's not sure if he did something wrong. He simply stays in bed, sitting next to you, waiting to see if you're going to reject him or accept his help. You decide.

Horrortale Sans - He's not awakened enough to notice honestly. Eye sockets half closed, he grabs your arm and kinda yanks you against him. He then starts to purr to soothe you while he falls back asleep, hugging you tightly.

Horrortale Papyrus - He acts like nothing happened because you're clearly distressed and simply comforts you like usual. You understand at his stress baking the rest of the day that he actually noticed a lot and that it made him very insecure about himself. Willow doesn't want to bother you by talking about it so he kinda bottled his feelings.

Swapfell Sans - You getting spooked of him actually spooked him and he punched you in the face instinctively as a defense mechanism lol. Well, at least you're back asleep very fast. You're a bit confused when you wake up with a headache a few hours later.

Swapfell Papyrus - Uh. He's a bit nervous and just boops your nose hoping to stop that scared expression in your eyes. Come on, bud, it's just little old' him, nothing to be scared about. Rus is strangely a little more silent than usual that day.

Fellswap Gold Sans - "Are you going to stop staring at me like that tonight or tomorrow?" Ah... Wine and his legendary compassion. He's a bit grumpy that you woke him up and just turned his back on you to go back to sleep lol. Go see Coffee if you want comfort, he's not helping for sure.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He looks behind him in fear, thinking you saw a monster behind him or something and just... stares in confusion. As there's nothing there. Uh. Ok. Now he's scared to. So how about you two hug until you both forget what just happened?

[paingoes]

Rubies

Asking

“Aegre fero” here has a double meaning of “I’m sorry” and “It hurts”. Taking some license with the Latin I think. Forgive me.

(Content: living weapon whumpee, comfort!!!, crying, past trauma, conditioning, malnutrition mention, emotional whump, abuse mention, rocky recovery)

=========

Apollo readjusted the dials on the old receiver. He clicked in between the channels of the small device, listening in as best he could through the static. The sheer range of Galatea’s radio always impressed him. 

“-off the Western side now, escalating-“

“-running out of provisions! Just a reminder-“

“-tell Contra if she doesn’t fix her damn-“

“-worst summer in years, but not like-“

“-does anyone not need their kidney-“

Delta came out of his room, slipping quietly out into the hall. His short hair was hard to get used to. It was actually kind of curly when it wasn’t weighed down. Apollo thought it was cute. His expression was totally unreadable, but that was about typical for him. 

“Hey.” Apollo pulled one of the earbuds out. He didn’t move much beyond that. Delta had gotten comfortable enough that he didn’t feel the need to fuss after him nor the impulse to coax him out of hiding. It’d be better to stay still, not spook him too much.

Delta skirted the edge of the couch carefully and knelt down onto the carpet. He folded his arms on the cushion, resting his head down on top of them. It hid his face. Apollo took out the other earbud, leaning forward.

“You okay, bud?” Apollo’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. Delta hadn’t knelt for him in a while. He’d thought that he was getting out of the habit. Delta nodded, his face still buried in the cushion. Not speaking, but that was also to be expected.

“Do you want to sit up here?” Apollo offered, just in case he needed to be reminded that he was allowed to. He shook his head for no.

“…Okay. Let me know if you need anything, alright?” He only put one earbud back in. Delta spoke so softly, he didn’t want to miss it. He wasn’t going to force him to talk about it, if there was anything to talk about at all. Delta needed to do what made him feel safe. As odd as the behavior seemed to him, he wasn’t going to correct it. 

He turned his attention back to the radio, but kept his sights on Delta to see if there was any change. His eyes widened as he noticed the small hitches along his shoulders. He was definitely crying.

“Hey, hey.” Apollo put the radio aside on the couch, sliding down onto the floor. He touched Delta’s arm lightly, “C’mere.”

It was all the invitation he needed. Delta shifted off of the couch and into Apollo’s arms, burying his face in his chest. Small sobs wracked his body. Apollo was surprised at how silent he was being in spite of this. He made shushing noises reflexively, even though there was no sound. He felt the fabric of his shirt marginally tighten as Delta gripped it. 

“Aegre fero.” Delta’s voice wavered. It was only when he spoke that Apollo could hear just how much trouble he was having breathing. He carded his hands through his hair.

“It’s okay. Deep breaths, yeah? Four-seven-eight,” he said. Delta knew how. Apollo had caught him doing them alone before, unprompted. He was clearly used to being the only one to calm himself down. Apollo’s heart ached at the thought of him sitting up whenever they had kept him, forcing himself stable for somebody else’s sake. Still, he slowed his breathing, picking up the pattern. From where Delta was curled into his chest, he should’ve been able to hear it well. His shoulder blades gradually steadied. The shaking stopped. He didn’t let go.

“Do you…like when I play with your hair?” Apollo’s hands stilled. He realized he’d never actually gotten permission to touch it. He probably should have. Delta nodded slowly. His face was still hidden. Apollo continued to run his hands through it. It was very soft — and seemed to be a lot healthier than it had been when they’d first picked him up. He was proud of that, the way the malnutrition symptoms were gradually fading. He had missed cooking for people.

It took a while before Delta would pull away. His face was flushed when he did, eyes bleary. He looked down like he was ashamed. Apollo patted the couch cushion.

“Sit up, sweetheart.”

Delta climbed onto the couch, pulling his legs up to his chest. He was always more responsive when given direct orders. Apollo didn’t want to force him, but honestly, his joints couldn’t take any more time on the floor. He stood up himself, disappearing briefly to retrieve a cup of water. He brought back the burner phone too, passing both of them to Delta.

~

It was mortifying. When had he ever cried? He could count on one hand the number of times he had done it over the last two years. On two hands, he could count the last decade. Now it was like he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t supposed to behave like this. He had learned, so early on, that he was not supposed to behave like this.

It had felt so nice to be held for a second.

Mortifying.

Apollo sat back down on the couch and opened the IRC program. The burner phone buzzed in Delta’s hand. He unlocked it.

sunspot: Hey

nodiving: hi

nodiving: sorry

sunspot: Do you want to talk about it?

nodiving: i dont know

nodiving: i dont know whats wrong with me

nodiving: im not supposed to be like this

sunspot: Be like what?

nodiving: pathetic

sunspot: Why do you think it’s pathetic?

nodiving: because it is

“That’s circular logic,” Apollo said aloud. Delta typed faster.

nodiving: im not supposed to need anything and i usually dont

nodiving: now i have to keep bothering you for everything even things that dont matter

nodiving: im sorry

He began to type something else, but couldn’t bring himself to. He knew he should be punished for it. For having the audacity to even take notice of the emotion, let alone make it someone else’s problem. He should’ve just stayed in his room until it passed. 

sunspot: Everyone needs things. 

sunspot: I’ve been telling you this entire time to please come to me if you need anything

sunspot: Thank you for trusting me enough to take me up on that

Delta blushed, his fingers idle about the device. Apollo looked him up and down.

“When you say ‘things that don’t matter’,” he ventured cautiously, “You mean your own feelings?”

Feelings. The word itself sounded childish to him. He was supposed to be above it, as cold and mechanical as they’d trained him to be. But his skin was still damp where he’d been crying. It was a little late for that.

He nodded. Apollo couldn’t be mad at him for it; Delta already acknowledged their own worthlessness. It wasn’t a lie.

“Okay,” Apollo said softly, “I understand why you would think that. Nobody’s had much regard for them throughout your life. But it’s not true. Your feelings do matter. It was wrong for anybody to make you feel like they didn’t.”

No they don’t. Delta hid his face in his hands. He shouldn’t need this. He recoiled from the words as if they had burned him. No they don’t.

“I know you might not believe me right now. That’s okay. I’m still really proud of you for coming to me with this instead of trying to deal with it alone. Even if you think it’s not important, I still want to know what you’re feeling. It matters to me.”

Awful.

“Delta?”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded, showing he had heard. Not that he agreed, just that he’d heard.

Apollo paused while he caught his breath. It took a lot of effort to try and recover from what he’d just said. It still burned.

“Do you want to try?” Apollo encouraged.

Delta nodded, picking the phone back up. He typed slowly and decisively.

nodiving: nothing caused it

nodiving: im just sad

“Thank you. That’s a really good start, Delta. I know you’re not…used to talking. So maybe you don’t have all the vocabulary you need for it right now?”

Delta’s eyes narrowed at that, the mention of vocabulary. He wasn’t stupid. He read books.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know you’re smart.” Apollo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Your technical skill is advanced. You’re great at arguing. I know. All I’m saying is that you probably don’t have a lot of practice talking about this kind of thing. It might be difficult at first. And that has nothing to do with your intellect.”

That was objectively true. He had no idea what to describe what was happening to him, not with all the words he knew. He thought of the one that had shocked him most when they first suggested it. Abuse. He knew the definition. He did not see how it could slot into his life. Many of the words they used triggered that same uneasy feeling in him. Chess-piece. Feelings. Love. 

Most days, he could barely talk at all.

“I’m...gonna get you some CBT workbooks or something. We can work on it more later. Is there anything you need for right now though? Anything that normally helps?”

He didn’t know anything that would help. He’d never felt like this before. Whatever it was, it seemed like it was receding. The mood had passed.

He realized that crying might’ve helped. Touch. Talking. All the things he’d never been allowed before. All the things he thought he didn’t need.

Mortifying.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 16: Bloom

Summary: Jack and Maddie Fenton have been growing a special flower in secret for months, finally its buds are ready to bloom! But why is Danny becoming more avoidant than usual?

Ao3 link

At long last!

This rare flower, thought to be extinct, is finally blooming after all their hard work gardening. Well, mainly her hard work. Maddie took care of the more delicate and meticulous side of things. Jack tries but they both know he's not good at that sort of stuff. She can be hyper focused on the minute details but Jack gets bored easily if its not something he can freely do and has little patience for botany despite his best efforts.

A flower long thought to be gone for good grown right here in the lab. Sure they had to make a special enclosure for it but they didn't want ghosts or the kids with their rebellious, 'pro ghosts' phase, to mess with it before it could be ready to flower.

Heck, they were unaware it existed until one day when they were going through old Fenton Family Photos- the way Jack says it implies it is all capitalized- where they found notes by a witch hunting ancestors buried at the bottom mentioning how they were used to trap spirits and keep them from helping their witch masters.

It is said they are a great danger to the supernatural but completely safe, even delicious, for human consumption.

If enough bloom, they can use it in more anti ghost defenses if the stories prove true. Might even make a new weapon to capture a specimen if they get that far. The possibilities are endless!

While the kids were at school, they put it to the test. All throughout the house the blossomed flowers were arranged in every room. Red blooms decorate the walls and windowsills and other various surfaces connected by their black stems twisting around each other. Unassuming to those not in the know. Just a beautiful decoration to most.

And who else would even know about them? Not many for sure.

No ghost can leave the zone from their portal when the house has these flowers! If they come, they'll be trapped in the lab!

She's making a snack for her and Jack for the taste test, too!

Well, that and that she has been at this all day and does need a snack. You can't study and fight ghosts on an empty stomach after all!

Jack is in the basement lab working on a new weapon incorporating these plants.

The kids will never be safer here at home!

There haven't been any ghost attacks all day.

None of the ghost alerts they had set up around town have acted up. Sure, those only register ghosts above a certain threshold to compensate for the ectoplasmic background radiation the town is soaked in and that no good Phantom can seemingly hide in plain sight, but this has to mean it works on some level!

Anything coming through their portal will be trapped in the lab even when they're not home!

Oh, this is fantastic!

The kids will be happy that those spooks wont get in the way anymore. They should be, anyway. She can never really read them anymore, especially Danny. A shame, they used to be so close, too.

Speaking of the kids, it's about time for them to come home about now. Or it used to be before they both got so busy. Well, Jazz at least tries to be around them and return her bags before going back out or locking herself in her room to study.

Danny, though, keeps skipping school and ignoring curfew. When he doesn't skip, he has detention! That boy and his poor priorities. Why can't he be more like his sister? At least this way he will have more time to devote to his studies for once with his school getting attacked less!

"Mom! I'm home!" her eldest announces once she walks into the door. Dutiful and making sure they know shes home. What a good daughter!

Maddie, who was working on the Fenton Finder again, as its glitches keep detecting Danny, makes her way out of the kitchen to greet her oldest child.

"Hey, sweetie! How was school today? It's quite late, did you get some studying done or was it tutoring?" She couldn't help but gush.

Maddie is sure Jack would be asking the same, albeit with more arm pulling and back breaking hugs. She loves that man but he really doesn't know his own strength most of the time. Or keep it in check. There is a time and a place for it, after all.

"Things went fine, mom. What's with all the flowers, though? Didn't take you one for home decor."

There she goes, always questioning stuff. Such a strong, scientific mind.

Not that Danny doesn't but he tends to not want to use it. From what she has simply observed and all.

If something was truly wrong, then he would tell them. Right?

"Oh, just trying something new. Do you like it?"

"Um, yeah. I guess? But, why so many? And... you put these in every room?"

"Can never have too many flowers! These are a rare breed after all. They have special cleansing properties to ward off ghosts!" Maddie is excited to share this good news! They don't have to worry about one of those nasty ghosties waking them up anymore!, "And don't you worry about your rooms! Jack and I still remember your lectures on 'privacy' and 'personal space'. I just left a vase full in both yours and your brother's room, nothing too obstructive, on your windowsills."

"Uh huh. How did you find out about these flowers? What are they called, anyway?"

"Blood blossoms! We found an old journal from one of Jack's ancestors, Jack Fenton-Nightingale that held fascinating records we couldn't wait to see if they worked. I'm so glad you asked! You're welcome to join us if you want, sweetie."

Jazz looked more unnerved than enthused, but she's always busy with her own passions rather than wanting to focus on theirs, much to their chagrin.

"That's great, mom!," Jazz's enthusiasm sounds strained, "I'll let Danny know about the new floral arrangements before he gets home. I need to go study, they gave us a lot of homework today and I spent all afternoon torturing. Call me when it's time for dinner." And she is rushing out, clearly done with this conversation.

For some reason, it stings Maddie's heart at how flighty and avoidant her kids are. She knows they are at that age but it hurts her to feel them drifting.

"Wait," Maddie stops her daughter before she could leave, "before you hole yourself up. Where is Danny? Do you know? He usually tells you nowadays. I just... really do hope this helps him."

"He's with his friends like usual, mom. They have a project coming up and he might be staying over with them tonight. How do you think these flowers will help him?"

Jazz is fishing for information but Maddie can't bring herself to care. She desperately needs to share this worry with someone else. She has Jack, but sometimes he doesn't get it in a way that she needs and her social circle is depressingly small. A sacrifice she was willing to make for her studies and passion even if it's lonely.

"Your brother," Maddie begins, hoping the explanation will be able to let her oldest know her worries for her baby boy, "is always so frightened and runs away whenever ghosts attack. He can't even handle a conversation about them. I'm hoping that these ghost warding flowers will give him some peace of mind. Make it easier to sleep and study and catch up on school stuff. Where his priorities need to be if he wants to do well for himself. I know he has done well when given the chance. A mother worries, after all."

Jazz gave her a thoughtful, pensive look, like shes warring with herself, before settling on a sad, small smile.

"I get it. I'll make sure to let him know about the Blood Blossoms so he won't be caught off guard at the sudden change."

"Thank you for understanding, dear."

"Who knows, maybe Sam might think it's cool. She does have an interest in nature and preserving rare species."

It's obvious that she's trying to change the subject delicately and Maddie appreciates her thoughtfulness and more than willing to change it herself.

"That is a wonderful idea! I will have to bring that up next time I see her."

Maddie's joy at such a suggestion made her almost miss her daughters face fall, when she thought her mom wasn't looking. Such a sad, fragile smile as she made her way to her room.

I can feel the gap between us widening, but I'm unsure why or how to fix it.

It's been days and Danny still hasn't come home, not even to say 'Hi.'. Always at a friend's place for one reason or another. Maddie has grown increasingly worried. Sure, sometimes he skips curfew and sometimes he's not in his room at night, but outright avoidance is unlike him!

And she knows he didn't just up and leave. He still goes to school and is seen around town. Just never comes around here anymore.

What did they do to make him outright shun them? Shun her?

It wasn't until he did finally come home and stay the night that she saw something.

He's always been a bit withdrawn, more so since the portal activated, but this was a whole new level.

He was pale and shaking for at least an hour of him being home and out of his room. He avoided any food with the black stemmed rose-like buds, claiming to not be hungry when he hasn't left his room all day. He just smiled shakily that night, pretending nothing was wrong and claiming to just be tired. But his head drooped when he thought Jack and Maddie weren't looking. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced and he seemed to get worse the longer the night dragged.

Danny seemed nervous and on edge like something would come out to attack him. Which is silly, with our new defenses no ghost has left through our portal since they made these changes.

But, for some reason, he's more hesitant and distant from us. Like he expects us to hurt him.

Ridiculous.

I miss my baby boy. We used to be so close. I thought this would help him but it seems to have driven him further from me. I don't know what I did wrong.

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Chapter One: A Lightfury’s Guide to Stealing A Dragon Rider

Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x fem!oc

Word count: 3.1k

Chapter Summary: When a destroyed fleet of dragon hunter ships wash up at Dragon’s Edge, with all that is left behind are white scales and scorch marks, it leaves some questions to be raised within the dragon riders and what could have caused this. On the other side of the archipelago, a girl that appears and disappears at Northern Markets makes her presence known, planning to stick around until the heat calms down.

Overall Summary: A mysterious new dragon rider has been starting to make their presence known by tearing through dragon hunter ships and leaving nothing in their wake. What dragon they ride is unknown. What they look like is unknown. Why they are hunting the dragon hunters is unknown. The only thing that is known is that they will stop at nothing to destroy every dragon hunter ship at any cost.

N/A: Make sure you check out the prologue for this series! I feel like near the end of the chapter it sort of goes off the rails a bit. Hope you enjoy :D

*Art and gif is not mine.

Hiccup started his day like any other; waking up relatively early–at least earlier than the twins or Snotlout–and getting Toothless for a morning flight, usually to be met with Astrid as she finishes her rounds of the island, insisting she does a sweep of the island to make sure no hunters had found their way onto the beaches.

Toothless was already awake and bounding around Hiccup’s hut. His teeth were retracted as he watched Hiccup stir awake.

Not waiting for his rider to fully wake, Toothless jumped onto the bed, shaking it as Hiccup startled awake, trying to sit upright only to knock his head into Toothless’ snout. A disgruntled groan left the dragon at the contact.

“Sorry bud,” Hiccup began to say, cutting himself off as the grumbled scorn from Toothless. “What's got you so rowdy this morning?”

A gargling noise rang out from Toothless, flashing his gums before hopping off of Hiccup and his bed before jumping towards the hut’s door, large steps shaking the wooden beams the hut is balanced on. With the rustling from behind, Toothless looked back with a toothless smile to find Hiccup slowly awaking from bed, getting ready for the day on the Edge ahead of him.

“Alright bud, I’m on my way. Don’t worry,” Hiccup muttered with a yawn as he paced after the Nightfury. A steady hand landed on Toothless’ head, pushing him back a few paces so he could push open the door. The sun had started to rise by now, nearly set high enough to commence breakfast. Toothless raced forward, bumping Hiccup with his tail and causing him to stumble forward, a laugh rolling in his chest. “Perfect morning for a flight, isn’t it?”

Before Toothless could rumble a reply, Stormfly came barreling up, Astrid sat on her back as she stared worriedly at Hiccup. “Hiccup, there’s something you're going to want to see,” She announced upon her arrival, causing Hiccup to stumble out of his hut a couple of steps faster.

“What is it?” He hurriedly asked, resting a hand on Toothless’s head, ready to mount his back at any given second to follow after Astrid.

“I think it would be better if you took a look for yourself,” She called out, head flicking around to look down at the docks she and the other dragon riders had built when they first started working on building the Edge.

Hiccup didn’t have to be told twice.

Before Astrid could blink, Hiccup and Toothless were already in the air and flying towards her. His eyes hadn’t yet locked on where Astrid had come from, waiting for her guidance to lead him.

The two of them were in the air for only a few seconds, a quick glide down before their dragon’s claws were touching down on the wooden planks that made up their docks. That was when Hiccup was finally able to see what had Astrid so spooked.

In front of them was a fleet of half-destroyed ships.

Each ship had a number of scorch marks that plunged through the wooden decks, the sails that had the dragon hunter crest torn to shreds. Most of the ships also had discarded weapons and helmets, left behind by the hunters that had sailed on these ships. But something stuck out on one of the ships, the largest out of the lot. There was a variety of cuts and indents in the ship, looking to be placed there by a sword or some other kind of weapon, perhaps claw marks along with a few scales white as snow scattered around the destroyed ship.

“Astrid… what do you think could have done this?” Hiccup questioned, his head whirling around to face Astrid only to find the blonde girl staring hauntedly at the ship graveyard.

“More like who.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite customer from beyond the archipelago," A middle-aged man boasts as he sees a young woman walking up to his stall in the Northern Markets, his arms spread wide and a yellowing smile. His loud comments forced many heads to turn as Sindri was one of the best weapons traders within the isle, the man always having something to please any form of customer.

A dry chuckle escapes the girl as she steps up to the stall countertop, her boots digging into the muddy floor as she rests one of her gloved hands on the counter. "You should stop spoiling me with the praises Sindri," She says with a grin, her eyes briefly scanning over the items the man had on display for the day. “Your words might start to get to my head after all.”

"Maybe I'm just trying to make sure I get into Valhalla when my time comes," He says with a booming grin, leaving his prior task behind as he walks up to the girl. "I do after all need a Valkyrie to take me there. Your ego is free to inflate as much as you wish," He comments smugly, wiggling his eyebrows at the girl as he stops in front of her.

"Just because the name Valkyrie belongs to me it doesn't mean I will be flying you anywhere in the afterlife," She chides the man loosely. "And besides, you need to die in battle to be sent there. I don't think selling these weapons counts as so," She says amused at the slight drop in the man's shoulders.

"You might be right there," The man comments, an eyebrow being raised by the girl across from him in question at the might part. "So, what can I help you with today? It's been a while since your last visit to the Northern Markets," Sindri asks, both his hands leaning on the countertop as he waits for the girl across from him's request.

Valkyrie absently looks around the stall, staring at the many weapons discarded around the wooden crates and countertops. "Do you have any more of those Hideous Zippleback exploding boxes? The ones where the gas pours out of it until it gets lit," She asked, going into explanation since she knew that wasn't the name Sindri had given her when he first sold the items to her, and that exploding boxes could be quite vague.

"Of course, I have those in stock! I make them myself, remember?" He asks, grinning wildly as he bends down to reach for something hidden in a crate. Pulling out seven rectangular-like boxes, all made from vast metals and wood. He places them on the counter just in front of the girl’s hands. "Now, Valkyrie, these are the last ones I have in stock since you keep forgetting to bring the empty ones back to me." He says with a slight scold to his words.

"So there worth a pretty penny?" Valkyrie asks, staring up at Sindri slightly sheepish and with her shoulders bunching to her ears as she raises a brow in question, both palms facing up in front of her.

"Precisely," Sindri says with a sharp nod. "Now, I'm willing to trade them off for something, but if not, I'm going to need about two bags worth," He states, his face losing most of its joy as he goes into trader mode, making sure he gets the best deal for himself.

"Two bags?" Valkyrie questions with a huff of air, picking up one of the canisters loosely. When a hum of agreement leaves Sindri, Valkyrie places it down on the countertop rather harshly. "And here I thought I was your favourite customer," She says slightly dejected, pulling out a small pouch of coins from her waist. "How about this? I give you half of this, and the next time I sail in, I'll bring you two double-edged axes?" She offers, loosening the string that was keeping the pouch sealed and flashing Sindri a toothy smile.

Sindri's eyes narrowed at the girl, one of his fists balling as he study's her for a long moment. An air of silence dragged on between the two of them before he came to his final decision. "How do I know you’re not just going to fly off and never return?" He questions with a glower, an opening statement for something further.

A fake mortified gasp escapes Valkyrie's lips as she brings her hands up, resting them on her chest. "You wound me Sindri," She states, closing her eyes like she was crying. Bringing a hand up to wipe at a nonexistent tear, she says, "And here I thought we have built some trust up over the years."

The man across from her rolled his eyes with a huff before he shook his head with a grin stretching across his face. "I’d be in safer hands while wrestling with a Nightfury than putting any trust in you. But fine, I'll take you up on that deal," He mutters. His agreement got a crooked grin slipping onto Valkyrie's face as she raised her chin slightly in accomplishment. "But if you don't return in two moons, I'll be putting a bounty on your head."

The thing with Sindri is that he totally would, which only made Valkyrie grin more. "I'll be back in three then," She said, emptying half of her coin pouch onto the countertop as she pulled another brown bag from her waist. This time the bag was empty, and a lot bigger than the last as she started to load the Hideous Zippleback gas canisters into her bag.

Sindri only looked slightly amused at her words as he tested each of the coins, roughly gauging how much each of them weighed. Valkyrie attached the bag of items back to her hip as he did this, waiting until he had finished the task and put them into his own pouch. "Is there anything else you might need before you vanish without a trace again?" He questions.

"I think this is all I need for the moment," Valkyrie says, her eyes going distant as she racks her brain for any other possible items she could need for the next following days. She couldn't picture any dire situations arising where she would have to prepare for, everything already thought out in her own mind as they had repeated this process a number of times. The only reason she was buying the Zippleback gas was because she would be going in solo and she would be dealing with a larger number the usual.

Sindri gave her a sad nod. "I'll see you next time you decide to grace the aisle with your presence." He comments, lighting up with a grin before he is turning to a new customer—or maybe it was the person he abandoned to talk to Valkyrie.

Turning away from the stall, Valkyrie begins her way back through the trading village. She kept her head high as she began to weave through the different stalls, a steady eye on anyone who decided to get too close for her liking.

A certain thing that came with the Northern Markets is that there is a large number of dragon hunters always running around getting weapons fixed or buying new custom traps to help them capture dragons that they would later sell to a select few from this very island. It never mattered how much she attempted to avoid them when on the island so she gave up long ago, accepting the fact there was no getting around it.

So when a certain hunter clad in dragon hide started to approach her, there was nothing Valkyrie could do except hide her finds and ready herself for conflict.

Keeping her head held up, she planned to walk past the man, keeping her eyes from the mace hanging at his hip where his hand was starting to itch for. But as she passed a hand shot out, fingers enclosing tightly around her upper arm. Valkyrie was instantly on the defence, a hand shooting to her hip where a broken down sword lay wrapped around her waist. With a hiss, Valkyrie spoke, “Can I help you?”

“Do I recognise ya?” The man spoke, spit flying from his mouth.

“I would hope not,” Valkyrie started. “Now, if you would be so kind as to get your filthy hand off of me, I would be glad to let you leave with all your limbs intact.”

The two stood off, neither being the first to back down. As Valkyrie’s hand slid forward, fingers wrapping around the loose handle of her broken-down sword, another hand came shooting out and wrapping around her shoulder. “Why don’t we all take it easy for a second.”

Turning to see who had spoken, Valkyrie’s eyes landed on a tall boy with auburn hair and pale green eyes. He didn’t look directly at Valkyrie, his eyes instead focused on the hunter that she had previously been threatening.

“Mind your own business boy. This doesn’t concern you,” The hunter spoke with a sneer, attempting to pull Valkyrie closer towards him but when Valkyrie didn’t budge, the hold that the boy had on her keeping her grounded, he let go.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Of course, this is between you and this helpless lady,” The boy said, releasing Valkyrie as he raises both hands in an act of surrender.

Valkyrie’s head whipped around to face the nameless boy, eyes wide with her top lip curling up. “Helpless?” Her voice rose an octave, once again her hand shooting down to where the handle of her sword rested.

The boy flashed Valkyrie a sideways glance with an almost pleading look on his face before he turned back to the hunter. “It’s just, I didn’t want to see anything break out when it was so clear that she wouldn’t be walking away as steady as she came in.”

The hunter pondered the boy’s words, face slowly starting to light up. “Aren’t you the chivalrous type?” The man huffed out before turning away, casting one last fleeting glance at Valkyrie before flashing his teeth and blending into the crowd and fleeing from Valkyrie’s sight.

Valkyrie glared at the man even long after he vanished from her sight. Only when she was sure he was gone did she turn to the nameless boy, putting an end to his stuttering responses as one of Valkyrie’s hands slammed into his chest. “I could have handled that myself,” She scorned, going in for a second shove where the boy’s hands mixed with hers, trying to deter their path. “And come on, a helpless lady who can’t fight her own battles? You couldn’t come up with a slightly more justifying cause?”

“It’s the first thing I could think of,” Came the strangled response from the boy, his grip tight as he stopped Valkyrie from pulling her hands away where she would most likely go in for another hit. “I didn’t exactly think of a plan when I came over.”

“You clearly didn’t think much if you had the bright idea to come over here in the first place,” Valkyrie snapped, tugging her hands free in a quick pull, making the unknown boy stumble and fall towards Valkyrie.

Valkyrie quickly raised her arms, bracing herself as the boy collided with her. A soft grunt escaped her lips at the close proximity of the two of them. “Uh hi?”

Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed at the boy’s words, their eyes meeting through the gaps in her arms. “Bye,” Valkyrie said in return, shoving the boy back one last time before turning on her heel, not caring for the startled yelp that came from the boy as she walked away. She told herself as she left, ready to disappear from the island and the views of the world once more, “I don’t have time for this.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” The boy called out after Valkyrie and said girl found herself gritting her teeth at the sound of hurried footsteps running after her. As the nameless boy came to her side, falling into step with her as they walked through the markets, he said, “I’m Hiccup by the way.”

“And I didn’t ask for that knowledge nor do I care for it,” Valkyrie said, earning a soft chuckle from Hiccup in return.

“Normally when someone gives you their name, there's an unspoken rule that you are meant to give it to them in return,” Hiccup said, gesturing loosely with his hands out in front of him, quickly drawing Valkyrie’s eyes to them and the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists. “And, I mean, I did kind of save you from a fight with a dragon hunter.”

“Something which I didn’t ask you to do,” Valkyrie stated. But at the sight of Hiccup's dejected face, one of his hands bounding up to scratch the back of his neck, Valkyrie find herself speaking without her conscious permission. Turning her head straight and keeping her eyes off the other boy she said, “But if you must know, my name is Valkyrie.”

“Like one of Odin’s warriors?” Hiccup quickly questioned, his face lighting up as he put two and two together.

“Yes, like Odion’s warriors,” Valkyrie muttered, shaking her head as she answered the common question aimed her way once she revealed her namesake.

“Did your parents know you would be just as fierce as a Valkyrie when choosing a name for you?” Hiccup asked another question, seeming to have several more lined up for her to answer.

“More like vicious,” Valkyrie commented. “And I think they trained it into me when I was younger. Had to look at the world as a proper Viking one way or another.”

HIccup’s thick brows furrowed but he chose not to say anything. “What brings you the Nothern Markets?” He tracked back, changing the topic quickly. Before Valkyrie could say anything, Hiccup's head swivelled to the side, something catching his attention from another stall. Valkyrie was about to use these few seconds of distraction to slip away when Hiccup's head came swirling back towards her, large green eyes staring at her expectedly.

“Originally, before I got ambushed by two Vikings?” Valkyrie questioned, hiding a smile at the sheepish look that flickered over Hiccup's face first before a stubborn fierceness took over his eyes. Valkyrie quickly cut him off before he could once again go into why he had to help. “I came here for the same reason anyone else would. To trade and gather.”

Hiccup slowly nodded his head, wringing his arms back and forth and preparing to say something before a loud bang caught both of their attention, two heads of blonde hair fleeing from the scene. “Oh Thor, not those two,” Hiccup mumbled, dragging a hand down his face before looking back to Valkyrie. “You wouldn't be willing to wait here for me, would you?”

“No promises,” Valkyrie shrugged.

“Yeah,” A soft sigh escaped Hiccup's lips. “I didn’t think so.”

Prev | Next

[therainscene]

I’ve been enjoying the sympathetic, we-aren’t-being-shown-the-whole-story takes on Henry lately, and it’s reminded me of something I always found odd about the scene with the rabbit.

On the surface, this looks like a budding serial killer engaging in that red flag behaviour of torturing animals. We see the ensnared rabbit screaming and struggling in front of a young Henry, and older Henry tells us, “as I practiced, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined...”

But then we see young Henry’s face... and I dunno, maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see a child torturing an animal for fun. He seems thoughtful, troubled.

What really gets me about this is older Henry’s narration over this shot: “I could reach into others, into their minds, their memories.” What does that have to do with killing a rabbit? He’s not in a mind-reading trance here, his eyes are open.

Immediately following this scene, Henry segues into telling us about his parents, how he’d reached into their minds and seen that they’d done “such awful things”. We see Victor haunted by a vision of the baby he accidentally killed. It screams like the rabbit, unable to escape its burning crib.

Here’s what I think actually happened with the rabbit:

Virginia set up traps to get rid of pests. (Victor was spooked by the dead animals around his property, so I don’t think he was involved.) Henry saw this while practicing his mind-reading, and upon investigating, found a terrified, injured rabbit. He sympathized with it; his mother viewed him as a pest, too, a problem to be solved via cruelty. He killed it to end its suffering, and soon developed a habit of mercy-killing all the animals ensnared by his mother.

I think this reading is a much better fit for Henry than “weirdo kills animals as practice for murder.” When he kills his human victims, he tells them, ���it’s time for your suffering to end; it will all be over soon.”

He finds children ensnared by abuse and forced conformity. He sees them in pain, trapped in their burning cribs by cruel or foolish authority figures. He sees himself. He shows them the mercy he wishes he’d been given.

This is, of course, hypocritical. Henry has no right to decide on other people’s behalf how they should cope with their pain -- he’s turned into the same abusive authority figure he’s always railed against. He sees humanity as “a unique type of pest”, just as his mother saw him. Even his beloved spiders were kept imprisoned in jars so he could study them, just as Brenner imprisoned him in the lab.

Many abusers see themselves as victims, and they’re often right. That doesn’t justify the abuse they perpetrate, but in their own minds, they feel justified. They feel like they have no other option. That’s what makes the cycle of abuse so hard to stop.

Here’s what I find most interesting about sympathetic Henry: if he’s a demonstration of the good within evil... what does that imply about his narrative foil?

Will does not like to hurt others and he does not want to become that person. He couldn’t even shoot the Demogorgon in self-defense.

But he’s quick to hurt himself if it means helping his loved ones. He was willing to sacrifice himself in order to close the gate in S2, and he immediately bottled up his feelings to deal with the Mind Flayer in S3 despite being in the midst of a complete mental breakdown as a result of bottling his feelings up for too long.

And in S4, Will knows that his feelings are exactly what will make Mike feel better, but he’s too scared to come out or risk making his bestie feel uncomfortable, so he shills for heteronormativity and disguises his feelings as his sister’s under the assumption that’s what Mike wants to hear.

It is not what Mike wants to hear.

Mike feels pressured to lie to El. El is so distracted by his bullshit that Henry has time to kill Max. Max’s death opens the final gate.

The world ends, and Will Byers played a key role in it.

In his zeal to be a Good Celibate Gay and do no harm, he contributed to the worst harm imaginable. But he felt justified in what he was doing. He thought he had no other option than to decide on Mike’s behalf how he should feel.

Henry’s gonna have a fucking field day calling him out on that one.

Will isn’t a villain and he isn’t going to become one; the real villain in Stranger Things isn’t a person or a monster so much as the monstrous things people do. If there’s one lesson to take away from this show, I’d say it’s to remember that any of us -- even sweet, gentle, well-meaning Will Byers -- is capable of evil.

But it’s okay. Will’s internalized homophobia may have helped end the world... that just means honesty, acceptance, and love are the tools he’ll need to save it again. We’re all capable of that, too.

[tobyislame]

Hi this is awkward s/o person again, you have fueled my toby brain and I'd like to make another request (if you're willing)

What would he be like with his s/o on Halloween? Does he dress up with them, get candy, or maybe stay home and watch scary movies with them? And very important question...if he dresses up, who would he dress up as?

toby rogers x reader: HALLOWEEN EDITION!!!!

welcome back friend!!! i will always be willing i love your requests!! OHOHOHO i am going to get soo silly with this one

- toby goes fucking BALLISTIC over halloween oh my god. it's the only time of the year where he can go into town and just be normal. everyone's got masks on, everyone's donning costumes, so he blends in like butter on bread. being able to exist in a public space without so much as a dirty look is fucking elating, it's one of the only graces of normalcy that he gets and he milks the opportunity for everything its got. what most would treat like any other day, he treats like a paragon. for one night he isn't toby rogers, wanted dead or alive - he's just some guy.

- he's suuuper fucking annoying about it too. he wants to do ALL the halloween stuff and he WILL drag you along with him whether you want it or not. his mansion buds aren't exempt from this treatment either no one is safe

- before night falls and the real fun begins, you guys are staying in and he's making SURE you have a good day. he's got those cheap halloween cookies in the oven (you know the ones they got pumpkins on em), his place is done up with lights and tacky dollar store decorations, and he's got a pot of apple cider simmering on the stove that mixes with the woodsy smell of his cabin just fucking beautifully. he tries really hard.

- he gets really fucking into it, and you can't help but find his admittedly childlike excitement over it a little endearing. if you ever commented on it, about how he hardly gets this excited over anything else, he'd probably just get all weirdly defensive and dismissive over it. he's been this way about it since he was a kid, never really grew out of it. even after everything.

- he's putting out a SPREAD of treats for you guys: candy corn, caramel corn, the works. can't have it any other way if you're marathoning slashers. there's a sort of unmentionable effort he puts into it with the halloween paper plates he goes out of his way to get (steal), one of those little details that puts this subdued warmth in your chest. he wants to make everything nice for you. he wants for you to have good things.

- you two. on his pilled up couch. grandpa sweaters. steaming apple cider in thrifted (stolen) mugs. flannel blanket. crackling embers from the log burner. oh yeah baby

- he makes halloween movie watchlists. oh yeah he's serious about this. he only really likes the kind of stuff you can snag off rental store shelves: sleepaway camp for eye candy (we need more slutty slutty men in horror flicks), hellraiser but only the 1987 one, texas chainsaw massacre but only the 1974 one (he's got a crush on leatherface that he'll never admit to anyone or himself), the thing is his fucking FAVORITE horror movie of all time, throw the final destinations in there just for fun, stuff like that. saw movies are his guilty pleasure. even with you, he tries to be some hard-ass and play it off when he gets all spooked and jumpy, though the way he clings to you just a little tighter says something else.

- yea this man has split skulls and gotten brain matter stuck in his hair and horror movies still scare him

- now the most important question: costumes.

- ok i have two visions for what he'd be and in both events he's forcing you to dress up with him: for one i can totally see him throwing on some ferris bueller getup and dragging you along as either sloane or cameron, or y'all are going as bill and ted and he's calling dibs on bill (so he has an excuse to wear a crop top it's totally only for the costume). if you refuse to dress up he will not shut up about how you're "no fun" until you give in

- he also uses the holiday as an opportunity to terrorize the general public. you guys are hiding out in corn mazes and jumping out at whatever poor soul happens to walk by like some surprise scare actor, pretending to be ghosts to scare off the kids who think hanging out at cemeteries makes them cool. he's the village menace. genuinely the HOA puts up a sign saying look out for this guy

- he takes you "trick or treating" but with the biggest quotations ever. he'll go around to the houses that just have bowls of candy out with a sign that says "please take one" or something and straight up just take the bowl

- when he isn't having (mostly) harmless fun and treating the townspeople like his plaything, he's treating you to some good wholesome traditional halloween activities, and he's a massive sucker for those. like, no fucking question about it he is dragging your ass to the pumpkin patch. if he's lucky he can get a five finger discount on some caramel apples for you two. of COURSE he's hauling some pumpkins home for you guys to carve, even if he'll just inevitably leave them to rot on his porch but he SWEARS he'll throw them out soon he SWEARS

- he insists on going to at least one haunted house even though he's the one that always gets you two kicked out for clocking scare actors. he's banned from most of them

- at some point in the night you'll probably end up crashing some college house party and, even though they scare him shitless, nothing makes him feel more like a guy than standing around with a red solo cup in his hand. he isn't there to make friends anyway (god knows he has no clue how), he's the one that just kinda pets the dog the entire time then leaves

- at the very end of day you guys are falling asleep tangled up in each other on the couch, smoke hanging in the air and the dvd screensaver bouncing around on the tv screen

[mymegumi]

SEASONALLY YOURS ෆ KAMO CHOSO

⠀ warnings: potentially ooc!choso (i dont rlly write for him:()

choso doesn’t really enjoy the winter.

he hates wearing big clunky shoes, and his doc martins don’t have any sort of grip to resist the icy streets when he has to walk places. sometimes, snow gets in his shoes and then he has to deal with terminally wet feet—of which the wrinkly little toe pads sketch him out and make him feel like he has to dry off as soon as possible. the snow melts in his hair and that means any sort of hairstyle has to be de facto shoved underneath a beanie. plus his ears get cold and he hates when his ears get cold.

there’s a few perks, like driving around and looking at christmas lights, and the late night first snow walks he loves taking—everything is so serene and untouched by humanity it makes his chest ache with the peacefulness.

he feels as though the winter cold seeps into his bones, chilling him to his core until he can’t seem to get warm. he could be standing in front of a fire and still the winter’s winds would find a way to him. he hates it. he hates being cold.

he supposes winter isn’t so bad because he met you one wintery night.

he’d been taking a slow first snow walk when he happened upon you. you were in the middle of the street, splayed on your back and making snow angels. you had your eyes closed and you just seemed so at ease, so in tune with the falling snow that he thought he had imagined you. the sound of the snow crunching underneath his feet had made you open your eyes lethargically, as if there was anything else you’d rather be doing.

you had smiled at him, all teeth and gums and sugary sweet happiness that he had instinctively smiled back. motioning to the space beside you, he had laid down and made his very first snow angle. he hadn’t worried about his hair until after you pointed at it and giggled over the way it was skewing wildly. watching you laugh, he had blurted out that he wanted to see you again and the shy smile that spilled across your face was worth all the embarrassment in the world.

and, he thinks, maybe winter is so bad but, spring isn’t any better to him.

the wintery snows melt into warm soggy rains and he hates tracking mud through the house. it’s a pain to clean every day, and he just wishes the raining would stop because his hair is always soaked when he goes anywhere, perpetually cursed to have bad hair. the spring storms are more tame than the summer ones, but he dreads the feeling of ice cold rain stinging through his clothes. the pollen is getting worse, too, and his allergies act up in such a way that his nose is constantly stuffed and it feels as though he’ll never breathe normally again.

the budding cherry blossoms and tiny, fragile blooms of flowers make him feel hopeful. hopeful for the future and brighter days and sunnier skies.

he supposes that one shining day is better than the rest in spring, as a year after you’d been together with choso, you’d moved in together.

he’s never lived with anyone but his brothers, and itadori—but he was a brother for lack of a better word. so he’s scared that his unusual oddities are going to be jarring and spook you like a shy stray cat.

but the first night he splays out on the couch, legs sprawled over the back of the couch and head draped over the seating area, he is delightfully surprised when you copy his motions. you complain that you’re getting lightheaded and end up back in a normal seated position, but lean down and press a kiss to his lips and tell him to be careful. he blames the red cheeks on the blood rush to his head. in the morning, you tease him for his snoring and he blames the spring pollen.

choso supposes he has a good memory to hold onto spring.

the days turn longer, the night hours slowly slipping away to daylight and choso finds himself restless.

choso despises summer for taking away the lonely nights. he finds solace in the dark, shadowy places he can tuck himself into when he feels as if the world is looking at him too long.

he closes the curtains tight, and cuts out the sunlight when he can. he sweats through his shirts and there’s a level of frizz happening to his hair that he thinks is just innately criminal and wants to absolutely obliterate the sun and the humidity and the stupid warm summer rains that make him uncomfortable in his own skin. he showers daily, and still it feels like the grime of the day sits on his skin and he has to scrub and scrub and scrub just to feel even slightly clean. the first time you catch him rubbing his skin raw, you hold him in the shower as tears fall down his cheeks like the shower’s water down his back.

after his showers, you always press a kiss to his forehead and hold him close, gently braiding his hair so it’s out of his face and so it’s wavy by the time it dries. ‘you look so handsome when it’s this way,’ you had said once, and he’d never done his hair any other way since. occasionally he’ll style them in his usual two buns to keep his sweating hair from sticking to his neck, but sometimes he lets his hair down at home in the air conditioning and revels in the way you tease and curl it around your fingers.

choso wishes the summer nights were cooler, so he could press against you and fake complain that you’re sticking your cold feet in between his thighs. secretly, the feeling of being needed is more important than the split-second shock of cold.

and when the days begin to bleed into fall, he thinks those are his favorite days. he hates to be cliché or even close to mainstream, but fall is truly his favorite.

there’s a feeling of satisfaction in his chest when he can go out in just jeans and a hoodie, hand wrapped tightly around yours because your hands get so cold in the fall and you refuse to wear gloves. he loves the feeling of interlacing your fingers together and kissing the back of your hand, lips cool to the touch. choso is admittedly greedy for the feeling of you, the feeling of your skin against his and the cool breeze of your laugh against his neck and the smile you always, always have when you kiss him. choso has never known being greedy in this way.

the bright green summer leaves begin to brown and he curls into the reading nook with something new—a thriller, a murder mystery, a slightly above-averagely horny book, anything he can get his hands on.

fall is, objectively, his favorite.

the weather is ideal, somewhere between cold enough to pile on blanket after blanket at night and warm enough that he doesn’t feel as if he’ll turn into an ice sculpture in the foreseeable future. the landscape is so picturesque he feels as if looking at the mountains punches the air out of his lungs. he’s living in a painting and all he can do is awe and gawk and sputter about the unreal scenery he’s surrounded by.

he also loves fall because you love fall. it’s easy to love what you love because everything you enjoy is seamlessly a part of what makes you, you.

truthfully, he might like fall the most, but every season is good enough for him because he has you in all of them. as long as your by his side, he’d weather a million blizzards, sneeze as many times as he had to in spring pollen, and sweat through every shirt he owned. his love and devotion is soft and quiet but it’s always there. he will always be there for you.