#Died on a random Wednesday

[quinklequonkle]

BONK

💥

In the aaarrmmsss offfff an angel 🎶

[cool-person-yey]

aaargh hate when A Big Change happens in your life and ppl treat you differently after it like to back!!!! but I know damn well I couldn't handle going back goddamnit

[bitchface24-7]

SMASH - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: After four gruelling exams so far (and it's only Wednesday!) you're sure your brain is mush. You didn't expect a random student to come up to you in regards to their final project asking you (and other students) one simple question, “What do you think about the Hextech inventors, Jayce and Viktor?” in a brilliant move of word association, you say the one thing everyone's thinking, “Smash.”

warnings: going viral, embarrassment, meeting Jayvik and wanting to kys, light hearted teasing, modern au?? I just kinda added phones and social media to the arcane universe, grammarly is my beta now

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

This idea came out of nowhere as I salted my soft-boiled eggs, hope y'all enjoy! Also, I do have a solo Viktor x reader draft. No Jayce ones yet. Jayvik has taken over my mind

This week has been kicking your ass, and its only Wednesday.

You've had four, FOUR exams so far this week and you have three more to go before this semester ends and you can enjoy your summer break.

You feel braindead. You're more energy drink than you are water and blood. Your eyes hurt, you're dragging your feet. You're in your comfiest sweatshirt, cargo pants, and slip-on shoes. Surprisingly your hair is clean, you got a bit of an energy burst yesterday to shower before heading to bed.

Your headphones are on, your music is blasting, and you're walking as fast as you can to your dormitory to get some last minute studying in before you crash out.

What you weren't expecting was a beautiful girl coming up to you with a small microphone attached to her phone. You move one headphone behind your ear, but even then; your hearing isn’t the best due to your exhaustion.

“… think of… inventors… Jayce and Viktor?”

In a brilliant move of word association, you say the one thing that comes to mind.

“Smash.”

With that, you put your headphone back on and continue on your walk to your dormitory, not seeing the beautiful girl in a flabbergasted state as her camera man dies of laughter.

Oh, this is gonna go viral.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Friday eventually comes, as does your last exam. With a newfound sense of freedom, you rush to your dorm to hop into bed and sleep for a consecutive forty eight hours before you enjoy your summer off.

You strip off your outfit and put on your comfiest pyjamas. You snuggle up in bed and greatly appreciate the blackout blinds your room has. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, your phone beeps.

From: Caitlyn🔫

Girl… you've gone viral.

You snort as you push yourself onto your elbows and text your best friend back.

To: Caitlyn🔫

Wtf are you talking about???

How the hell would I go viral? I haven't done anything.

Two pings simultaneously come through onto your phone, the first one is maybe a thirty second video, and the second is Caitlyn just laughing at you.

From: Caitlyn🔫

https://www.tiktok.com/holy-hell-she-did-not-just-say-that

Are you sure about that? 💀💀

You furrow your eyebrows and cautiously click the link Caitlyn sent you. It takes a few seconds but the video eventually loads, and there you are.

You’re in one of your favourite outfits, it’s comfy but still looks nice. Your hair is framing your face nicely and you have one of your headphones behind your ear as you look confused at the beautiful woman in front of you. It’s quite obvious you’re exhausted.

She does her whole spiel regarding how this is for her journalism classes final project and how she’s going around the academy’s campus asking people at random a simple question. You look completely lost, you can see your dark circles have dark circles; you cringe at how tired you look.

The video is almost over and you’re wondering what made you go viral in the first place, it’s when there’s fifteen seconds left in the video where you get your answer.

“What do you think about the Hextech inventors, Jayce and Viktor?”

You look blankly at the pretty woman and just casually in a monotone voice state, “Smash.”

You then see yourself put your headphone back on and continue on your previous task of getting home. You then get to see the glorious hilarity of the poor woman sputtering as the camera man laughs. You feel your face burn, it becomes almost unbearable when you see the comments of the video.

They’re just saying what we’re all thinking

Slay

Not a thought behind those eyes except smashing Jayce and Viktor. Same. Ask them to go to Paris.

I love them omfg

On my personal device that my parents pay the wifi for?

Oop 👀 their inside thoughts accidentally became outside words

They got good taste

Quick! Somebody send this to them 💀💀

Don’t let the council see this…

You’re so funny. Please don’t die.

You damn near whip your phone across your room in embarrassment. Why. Why has the gods forsaken you this day? That video was posted two days ago and it’s already wracked up millions of views, over a million likes, and thousands of shares and comments. It’ll be a miracle if Jayce and Viktor haven’t seen that video yet.

From: Caitlyn🔫

Btw I sent Jayce the video, love you ❤️

You scream into your pillow after that. You were supposed to meet them after your final grades were submitted so that you could possibly start working with them on Hextech.

Guess those dreams are ashes now.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’ve essentially barricaded yourself in your dorm room. No one’s coming in, and you’re not coming out.

Your best friend has other plans.

“C’mon, we planned this meet up like a month ago. Grades are out, you got like straight As. You’ll get the job.”

You cover yourself in more blankets, your voice is quite muffled when you respond back, “Hell no! They’ve seen me embarrass myself in front of millions of viewers. You sent Jayce the video! I’m not going!”

Caitlyn huffs as she rips the blankets off you, you squeal and try to hide again.

“They’re curious about you! They want to meet you.”

“Of course they’re curious about me, I said I wanted to have sex with them!”

Caitlyn cringes at the thought. Objectively she can see that both Viktor and Jayce are very attractive men, but Jayce is her brother and well, she’s always had more appreciation for the female form.

“Seriously, we gotta go. Their schedules are always crazy busy. This is the first time in… forever since they’ve taken some time off.”

You huff, “If anything goes wrong, I'm blaming you.”

Caitlyn smiles at that and throws you an outfit to change into, “I’m totally fine with that.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The walk to the lab is tense. You keep fidgeting with your hair, your clothes, your fingers. Everything.

Caitlyn keeps lightly slapping your hands to stop you from ruining her hard work. She's got you in nice black slacks that show off your pretty legs, a burgundy button-down with a cream vest over top of it, highlighting your waist, and a simple pair of black boots. Everything about this outfit screams sophistication and highlights your beauty.

“Are you sure we can't go back?”

Caitlyn giggles at you, “We’re like a foot away from the lab doors. You should've asked earlier.”

You whip your head to look at her, “Are you saying if I asked earlier, we could have cancelled this meeting?”

“No.”

And with that, Caitlyn knocks on the lab doors and you feel yourself blanche due to nerves. You're gonna die, you're barely into your twenties and you're going to die.

You've had a good life so far.

You truly feel like you've seen the pearly gates when a tall, broad man with a beaming smile opens the door, “Sprout, you made it!”

He exclaims as he brings Caitlyn into a massive hug. Caitlyn squawks a bit at the strength but hugs the handsome man back. You just awkwardly stand there biting your lip, stopping your intrusive thoughts of jumping out the window. You'll probably break an ankle, but it'd be worth it.

A rhythmic thump breaks you out of your stupor and you see an incredibly attractive man come up to you. He's tall, lean, and has the most beautiful bone structure you've ever seen. His eyes are like molten gold.

He quirks an eyebrow at your admirative glance and holds a hand out, the other firmly holding onto his cane, “You must be Miss. Kiramman’s friend. My name is Viktor. Welcome to the lab.”

You hesitantly go to shake his hand. His palms are cool compared to yours. He's got small calluses everywhere yet his hands are deceptively soft. You ensure you have a good grip on his hand, you were taught a lousy handshake is quite insulting.

A hand is brought down onto your shoulder and you almost gasp in shock, “I’m Jayce.” the tanned man states as Caitlyn tries to fix her ruffled hair. Wow, they are like siblings. Especially since Caitlyn has a sneer on her face as she elbows Jayce in the ribs; effectively causing him to crumple a bit.

You bite your lip and lightly giggle, Viktor shoots you a fond look as he ushers everyone into the lab.

A casual conversation is held before Caitlyn leaves so that you, Jayce, and Viktor can talk privately. You're tempted to screech at her to stay. But you don't.

The atmosphere in the lab is a bit awkward as Jayce just blurts out, “So… What was that video about?”

“Jayce!” Viktor lightly scolds, “You have no tact.”

You choke on an inhale of breath, causing a coughing attack. Jayce pats you on the back, trying to alleviate the discomfort.

“I—uh. Well, I was functioning on about four hours of sleep after two back-to-back exams, and before that, I had an exam on each previous day. So I wasn't in the right mindset when that girl came up to me and asked… that question. I didn't even hear the question fully before I… y’know… answered her.”

Jayce lightly pouts as Viktor shoves his tongue into one of his cheeks, “So… you wouldn't smash us?”

You accidentally bark out a laugh before slapping a hand over your mouth, “I’d be an idiot to say no. But, if we're going to work together… mixing pleasure into it never goes well.”

Viktor and Jayce share a loaded look, “Well…” Viktor's accent purrs out, “If you ever change your mind… you know where to find us.” The man that just rocked your world just casually walks to his desk, his cane rhythmically thumping against the marble floor of the lab.

Jayce drags a hand on your lower back as he shoots a wink over his shoulder, ushering you to the blackboard.

Maybe you being braindead and blunt worked out for you in the end.

[1mlei]

Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 2]

In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.

First part | Next part | Masterpost

CW: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts, take care everyone!

----------

Danny is 15 years old when he's informed that he is the crown prince of the Infinite Realms. He would have loved it if someone had had the decency to explain that the title of Ghost King would be passed down through right of conquest sometime before he fought Pariah Dark. If not that, couldn't someone at least have said something a bit sooner?

Now Danny had been faced with the information that he was ghost royalty out of nowhere, and that's just not something he was prepared to deal with on a random Tuesday afternoon.

As Danny paces the length of his bedroom he chooses to ignore Tucker's pointed reminder of "It's a Wednesday."

Instead of responding, he shoots a tiny ecto-blast at where his friend is lounging in the beanbag, which is easily dodged. Not that it would have hit, whenever Danny was aiming at one of his human friends me made sure to channel his dad and aim almost a full foot away from them, just to be safe.

He may be annoyed with Tucker's lack of sympathy about his situation, but he would never purposefully hurt him. Still, a warning shot when Tucker got extra cheeky wouldn't hurt anyone.

The other boy let out an affronted squawk as he dodged the blast, but wisely stayed silent after that.

Danny continued his pacing for another moment, but before he could start his frustrated rambling again Sam spoke up from Danny's bed, she hadn't even looked up from her phone for the whole time Danny had been ranting.

"It's not that big of a deal Danny, the council have been dealing with things just fine up until now, I'm sure they'll handle things until you're ready."

It was true, he knew that the council would continue to run the realms, and allow Danny to ease into the role.

The thing was, he was hoping that "ready" would mean he was at least of legal age. But no, ghosts saw time and age differently of course, they were satisfied as long as he was at least sixteen. Which he would turn in a few months.

In a desperate attempt to postpone the coronation (because Danny was not ready to become king of an infinite dimension yet, holy shit, he had convinced the council that it would be in their best interest to wait until the summer after Danny turned sixteen.

Danny still had to go to school after all, and the thought of having one measly weekend to be crowned before having to return to the halls of Casper High was not one that excited him.

The council had agreed to wait until summer. Danny wasn't overly happy that he'd still only have two months to adjust, but he'd take what he could get at this point.

He was not looking forward to starting his junior year, to say the least.

As if his looming coronation wasn't enough, now that Danny was aware of his title as crown prince, he suddenly had a bunch of new responsibilities. Supposedly, it was to prepare him for being king. Danny found it tedious at best, but he hadn't found a way to get out of it so far.

Luckily, as long as no ghost caused too much trouble Danny didn't have much to worry about.

----------

A ghost was causing too much trouble, enough that Danny got called in to deal with it.

At first he'd been salty that he had to ditch Sam and Tucker last minute for some stupid job that surely someone else could do. But once he heard what the job was, he was for once glad that he was dealing with it himself.

The situation was delicate, and Danny wouldn't trust a lot of ghost to handle it carefully enough.

An annoying ghost whose name Danny hadn't bothered to fully remember (Wi.. Fin.. Vin..ca.. something or other, not important) had decided to head to the human realm to take revenge for their death.

Now, if Danny tried to stop every ghost that ever tried to avenge their own death he'd never get to rest. A ghost's death was such a personal matter too, Danny didn't feel like he had any right to step in and say what's right or wrong for them to do.

So, in nearly all cases he stayed out of it. A lot of ghosts were happy to avenge their deaths in non-violent ways. Some time spent haunting their murderer, scaring them shitless, and most ghosts were satisfied. Not enough to move on, revenge was rarely enough for that, but enough to exist peacefully in the Realms.

That was all fine in Danny's book, but this particular ghost (Danny mentally dubbed them "Vi" when he failed to remember their full name) had decided that violence was the only answer.

The thing was, they blamed the wrong people. Vi had been a citizen of Gotham when they were alive, and they got caught up in some bad business. That had eventually led to their death.

It wasn't any one person's fault, but Vi blamed the Gotham vigilantes. From what Danny knew, Vi had been running away from said vigilantes, not wanting to be arrested, and had died because they were too focused on avoiding the vigilantes to pay attention to their surroundings.

The details of their death beyond that was not something Danny knew, he had listened to the necessary details from Clockwork before he left, but he didn't like learning exactly how other ghosts died unless they tell him themselves, it felt too personal.

All he needed to know was, the actions of the Gotham vigilantes had indirectly caused Vi's death, so they were on their way to Gotham to take revenge. That was bad, on so many levels.

The absolute last thing Danny needed was The Batman getting interested in ghosts. Danny had done a great job of managing without his or anyone else's help so far, and he really didn't want them poking their noses into his business now.

That was why Danny was speeding towards Gotham City, hoping to get there before Vi managed to track down a vigilante, as he was sure they didn't have any ways to defend themselves against ghosts.

After flying at nearly top speed for half an hour, Danny finally arrived. Not that long if you think about it, but plenty of time for a vengeful ghost to track down their targets.

With no better method, Danny started flying laps around the city, hoping his ghost sense would go off eventually.

His ghost sense remained quiet, but he found something better.

Batman himself, was right there fighting off a group of thugs. It was a small group of people for a skilled fighter like Batman to take on, he didn't really need backup. Which probably meant, the bird was somewhere nearby..

And yup! Standing on a rooftop close by keeping lookout was Robin.

This was neat, two vigilantes in the same location, now Danny could just stay here and keep guard until Vi showed themselves.

Danny hovered over Batman's fight invisibly, realizing how lucky he was that the man was unaware of his existence, and had no access to ecto-powered weapons. Danny shivered just at the thought.

Now that he was thinking about it, Batman was surrounded by a lot of people. A lot of them were probably innocent people, pulled into this business by a lack of better opportunities. Just like Vi.

And if Vi was here only for revenge, surely they wouldn't risk other people suffering the same fate as them. If they attacked Batman now, any one of the thugs could get caught in the crossfire.

Would Vi just wait it out until Batman was alone? It didn't make a lot of sense. Surely they would act soon, but Batman was surrounded, and Robin was.. Robin was alone!

Danny turned around in a panic as a cold shiver ran through his body.

Shit

He shot off towards Robin at high speed. Now that he had sensed them he could tell where they were (two seconds) Vi was heading right for Robin, their claws out and ready to strike (one second), they were just about to make contact, barely an inch away from Robin, when Danny crashed into them, phasing them both harmlessly through the vigilante and flying them far, far away in the blink of an eye. His heart was drumming so hard in his chest, (he could feel it all the way through his arms, wow) he didn't realize his heart could beat that hard in ghost form, he assumed his core would take over.

Maybe it was just testament to how stressed out Danny was.

That had been too close.

He had barely a moment to rest, as Vi broke out of his hold angrily.

"Foolish boy, do not get in the way of my revenge again."

Vi tried to fly away to try again, but Danny formed an ecto-barrier around them to keep them put.

"Not gonna happen, you're targeting two innocent people."

Vi hissed at him with frustration,

"You know not what you speak of, fool. Those killers parading around as heroes caused my unfair demise, and I shall have reve-"

At that point Danny decided he'd heard enough, it was a school night and he had to get going, so he grabbed the thermos from his belt and sucked Vi into it mid-spiel. He'd heard that same speech enough times to know how it goes.

Robin still alive, Batman unaware of ghosts existing, Crisis averted, and Danny would still make it home with enough time to get a half-decent nights sleep. Things were looking up.

---------

Jason is 14 years old. It's been a year since his soulmate died.

He's gotten good at pretending it doesn't affect him anymore. After that first night where Jason let himself properly cry in Alfred's arms, neither of them had spoken about the matter again. Alfred made it a point to treat Jason exactly the same as before, knowing that if he were to act extra careful as to not upset the boy it would have the opposite effect.

Alfred was great like that, always noticing and remembering things but knowing when not to bring them up.

He pretended not to notice that Jason never wore short sleeved shirts anymore.

When he found Jason huddled away in the library he pretended not to notice how many more romance novels the boy was reading compared to before.

During the darkest nights, when Jason silently wishes he could go join his soulmate wherever they had ended up, Alfred was there without fail. He didn't speak of the things he knew Jason was thinking about, whether it was as to not make Jason uncomfortable or because Alfred himself didn't dare say it out loud, he didn't know.

But he was there, every time.

And when Jason realized it had been a full year since his soulmate died, Alfred was there as a silent support, just a moment away should Jason need him yet never intruding.

If Bruce notices that anything has happened to Jason, he hasn't bothered to ask about it yet. Jason isn't sure if he prefers it that way or not.

On one hand, he doesn't like the idea of Bruce butting into his personal business, the man had never been great with emotions.

But the realization that his father-figure didn't even know what he was going through had Jason wanting to burst into Bruce's study and tell him everything, if even just to get a reaction out of him.

It had been a year, but so far he hadn't said anything.

--------

When Jason is out on the streets of Gotham, the mask of Robin is always a nice barrier to hide behind. He'll lock his emotions up tight in the back of his mind and cover them up with the veil of an unbothered vigilante who had far better things to worry about.

This night he's standing on a rooftop, keeping a lookout as Bruce deals with a group of thugs. The group was small enough that Bruce would have no trouble at all dealing with them, and Jason's time would be better spent keeping an eye out for anyone trying to slink away unnoticed by the bat.

It had been an uneventful few minutes, watching Bruce dispose of the thugs as all of them kept rushing him, not a single one having the bright idea that whatever payout they were promised wasn't worth sticking around anymore.

Then, Jason felt a shiver run up his spine. He felt like he was being watched. It was a foreboding feeling, like something was going to jump at him any moment.

He spun around, quickly assessing his surroundings, but he found nothing out of place.

The feeling did not go away though, only growing more insistent.

And then in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind picks up around Jason as the feeling of danger flares, and Jason is sure he is about to die right there.

In the next second, the wind turns cold, and Jason could swear he saw his breath fog in front of him for a moment. Yet he doesn't feel even the slightest bit frozen.

The cold passes through him impossibly fast, and with it the feeling of danger vanishes, and so between one blink and another Jason is left standing there dumbfounded at what just happened.

He hadn't imagined it, that feeling of danger was nothing concrete but it had been clear as day in Jason's mind.

The wind was definitely real too, he'd felt it rustle his hair as it passed by.

And the biggest piece of evidence he wasn't going crazy, was the small piece of frost on the ground around Jason's feet. He took a step away from it experimentally, and it quickly faded. But it had been there.

The biggest mystery of the night though, the part of this whole thing that shook Jason to his core, was his wrist.

He raised his wrist and pulled back his glove to check, because there was no way he was actually feeling what he thought he was.

But right there, the tiny black heart that was stuck to his wrist as a permanent reminder of what he could have had, was carefully beating in an excruciatingly slow rhythm. Slow, faint, but real.

Jason lost track of time as he stood there, just watching the heart on his wrist beating slower and slower, until it stopped and refused to move again.

For the first time in a year, Jason feels a dangerous sliver of hope sneak it's way into his heart.

It can't be.

But there was no other explanation.

Jason had been in danger, but some unknown force, one that brought an overwhelming feeling of safe with it had saved him.

And his tattoo was telling him his soulmate had been there.

Jason couldn't think of a better explanation than that the one who saved him was a spirit, or ghost of some kind. It sounded ridiculous.

He looks back at his wrist, gently stroking his fingers over the tattoo as the considers it.

It seemed like a ghost saved him.

His soulmate had been there.

His soulmate who was dead.

Jason felt silly for entertaining the thought, but he couldn't help but want to believe it. That tonight he had been about to die, and the spirit of his soulmate had protected him.

He took that realization and stored it away with the rest of his emotions. He didn't know how to feel about it.

He knew, that for the past year his grief had made him consider some terrible things. But how could he possibly want to go join his soulmate now, when they'd done the impossible and appeared next to him for even just a moment, to save his life.

Jason decided then, that no matter what happened, he was going to live. The sadness may never fully go away, by he would live the life he had been given, and his soulmate would simply have to wait until Jason was ready to join them.

With a lighter conscience than he's had in a year, Jason grapples away from the roof and heads back home, a tiny hint of a smile on his face.

------------

First part | Next part | Masterpost

Tags: @craftyexpertchild

Thank you for reading <3

[willthespy]

GODSHDIHS THIS IS SO GOOD??? I DEF ENJOYED THE WORD VOMIT ™

i love love love hearing different interpretations of things and as an art student i am obligated to tell people to do it more often because it tells you sm more and makes art way more interesting (🤓) and while my nico interpretation was sightly different, yours is??? SO GOOD??? LIKE OMFG YOU EVEN MADE ME LOOK AT MY ART DIFFERENTLY WHICH I LOVE!! I actually went insane in the best way possible

i mean i definitely drew the looking away for a reason, but in my original case it was more like looking out for something in hyper-vigilance. also in fear of losing the people around him (in this case will) but i also like the idea of the whole keeping will at a distance thing while still keeping him close in a way?? like that makes sm sense and using that to look back at it thats also something very visual you could interpret

in your interpretation you could also use the whole will wearing a hoodie (comfort and hiding/concealing (his trauma)) and nico wearing an outside jacket (avoidance and extra walls/layers)

OH AND THIS REMINDED ME OF THE TSATS COVER IN A WAY, but there it also kind of shows nico’s morality and how he was definitely more paranoid initially than will (who is also a character with an amount of paranoia/anxiety about things but is shown to internalize it more in a way that he stuffs it in a box with all things he should but isnt dealing with)

both reaching for one another (in a symmetrical way), while nico seems urgent to go and do what he feels he must and while will is seemingly content with waiting and staying where they’re at. his focus is on nico, while nico’s focus is not entirely on him, because of the events in tsats obviously.

also will’s hand disappearing off the cover makes him look like he’s clinging to the safety of staying where he’s at and not facing his demons, but you could also interpret the arm behind himself as him still holding onto his past, but not focusing on it to heal, because he’s focusing on others (nico). OH ALSO THE GREEN FOG BEING MORE ON HIS SIDE?? could be a wink to ykw but also just his past demons and ‘darkness’ (which goes hand in hand with ykw)

word vomit’ed back there, but i couldnt hold back

my posts have been too positive lately so have this solangelo doodle where i depicted two different sides of ptsd/trauma bc i hate joy!! yay!

literally two sides of the same coin

[max-nicoxfandom]

Happy WIP Wednesday ! Here is a first draft/snippet of a random chapter in my long fic I'm working on (don't go looking for it, still unsure if I'm going to post it), bc I think I'm gonna take this part out even if I really like the concept.

Danny is like 6-7yrs old in this

Danny is a weird kid.

That's not to say Dick expected him to be normal when his family took him in. No, even if Danny wasn't still half dead, no one in this family is normal. Not even Duke and Barbara, the self proclaimed normies of the family.

Danny has brought a certain life to the manor, even in death, that has Dick contemplating moving back. Somehow, even Jason has been spending more time than usual there. Arguments have been lessened, the manor has been less creaky and more settled, Alfred even looks a little younger these days.

It's both the fault of Danny's sweet exterior, and the odd green that swirls in the blue of his eyes. Not the same hue as Jason's, but something near to it.

He's a lot like Jason, actually. Dick is sure if Jason had come to them just a little bit younger he'd be the spitting image of Danny.

It's the little things that make them look so similar. Almost everyone in the manor has the blue-green eye, black hair combo. It's everything else in Danny that makes him look exactly like Jason.

Danny likes to wish the moon good morning when he sees it during the day, and insists on opening his curtains when he goes to sleep so the moon can listen to his bedtime story too. He likes to check his stuffed animals for injuries when they fall off furniture. He thanks Alfred for his food, and thanks his food for being yummy. When he leaves the manor, he blows the building a kiss goodbye.

Dick does not tell Bruce that the house pulls itself from the ground, and creaks back.

Sure, Jason wasn't dead (not yet, anyway), but he was so excited to be alive. He had that same disposition to do good to everyone and everything that Danny does. Jason may not be some sort of partial human like Danny, but Jason was Robin, and Robin? Robin is magic.

You don't have to believe in ghosts for them to be real, and you don't have to see Danny for him to exist. On the same wavelength, you don't have to see Robin to know Jason made him magic. It was just the truth. Like how the sky is blue and Bruce is Batman.

Dick is watching his life be changed one step at a time, just like it was with Jason–like how it was supposed to be with Jason–and like it was with his siblings.

He keeps flowers in his car now. He didn't before, he never had a reason for it.

But one time, Danny cried as they passed a graveyard. He was sitting curled up against the window in the back while Dick hummed along to some ballad on the radio. It was peaceful, as things tend to be when Danny's around, and even as the kid cried Dick never stopped feeling tranquil. He knew everything would be okay, Dick would stop at nothing to make his new brother happy again.

“I have no flowers.” He’d said. Dick hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong. “They'll all be so sad I came by, and I had no flowers.”

Danny's eyes were green when he'd spoken. Green, teary, and filled with more mourning a child should ever understand. Dick's heart broke about a thousand times over.

So now Dick keeps flowers in his car. Whenever he drives past a graveyard he throws a flower out the window, just like Danny does. And if the bouquet dies before he gets to give them away, he gives them to Danny, and he buries them in the backyard.

Green eyed and sad. Sometimes Jason joins him, sometimes Damian does. Dick never feels like it's his place.

This fic also has to do with the cult thing I was talking about sometime ago, and the post about big cities. I kinda regret having this take place in Gotham instead of Amity, but it's too late now (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Asks and interactions are always welcome !

[welphelpmelt]

Tu es manques de mon ame

Danny knew that it was rare for a ghost to have two obsessions— even rarer to have three. Ghosts usually dedicate their undead lives to their first obsession and rarely have time for anything else. But really, it should not have been a surprise when he formed a third obsession— one still related to his first but still so different.

Before his death, Danny was always protective over those he deemed his, whether they were his friends or family. He always wanted to make sure they were protected, and while they didn’t understand it, they allowed him to do as he pleased. When Danny died, he died hoping and praying that Sam and Tucker were okay— that the portal didn’t end up exploding or sucking them into it— that they didn’t die because of his stupidity. After becoming a half-ghost, his protectiveness increased tenfold. And Danny? The poor boy was so confused about why he was suddenly more protective over people after his little “accident.”

It was only after a visit to Frostbite— after the fight with Dark Pariah— that he got a rundown on ghost biology and understood that it was his obsession. And not only did he have one, but two.

After that, Danny learned that, yes, his interest in space had turned into an obsession when he died, but he just didn't notice because he had been flying off into space in his free time, therefore satisfying and feeding his obsession. It turned out that to satisfy and feed his protection obsession, he just needed to protect the people around him. As Phantom, that wasn’t a problem, but as Danny? He had to find a more subtle way to do it. Convincing Jazz and Tucker to wear a tracker wasn’t that hard— what was hard was convincing Sam to wear one. She eventually caved once Danny started sulking for a week straight and almost got hit by a car while doing it.

Danny was happy. He got into Gotham University for aerospace engineering and had a part-time job at an old mechanic shop. His sister was in Metropolis getting a degree in psychology, and Tucker and Sam were together in New York— Tucker studying software engineering and information technology, and Sam studying botany.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side on a random Wednesday when he missed his alarm. He ran into the nearest coffee shop, but thanks to his fantastic luck, he bumped into someone the moment he entered. And his core fucking purrs at the sight of the guy. He looks tired, on the verge of death, but oh so pretty. Danny could see the hidden muscles that the well-fitting suit concealed. He could feel his core reaching out, trying to connect with this poor guy, and Danny had to physically hold himself back from reaching out while simultaneously wrangling in his core.

After apologies and a coffee date, Danny learned the guy's name and a bunch of other stuff about Tim. They enjoyed it so much that they scheduled another date, which turned into another, and it wasn’t long before they were in a loving relationship.

Danny was worried. When he met Tim, he was immediately obsessed, and when they started dating, it got even worse. He wanted Tim all to himself. He wanted Tim happy. He wanted Tim safe. He wanted to be there when he laughed and cried. He wanted to be with him during his failures and successes. He wanted so much of Tim, he knew it was unhealthy.

So Danny did the only thing that made sense— he acted normal. He held back all those urges and pretended he wasn’t an obsessed freak who wanted to love Tim like there was no tomorrow. He toned it down to what humans would call normal— no human would ever love someone so obsessively and devotedly. That is only something a ghost would do. He was kind, patient, respectful, and understanding.

After a few months, Danny knew that he had to figure out what was wrong with him. After a quick visit to Frostbite, Danny learned that he had a love obsession. According to Frostbite, a love obsession occurs when he finds a partner who his core approves of. It is as simple as that, and Danny was confused but even more worried.

Danny had seen what a love obsession does to you. Just look at Vlad! He was insane! And one of Danny’s worst fears was turning into that. He had seen what Vlad’s obsession had done to his mom— she was cordial at best and downright disgusted at worst, truly only tolerating him for his dad’s sake.

After consulting with Frostbite, Danny learned that since his obsession wasn’t fully formed, he had time to stop it from fully maturing. The only way to do that was to isolate himself from the object of his obsession for about three to six months.

Which was easier said than done.

Because Danny loved Tim.

To Danny, it wasn’t even an option to not love him. After all, what wasn’t there to love about Tim? Tim was smart, passionate, and intelligent— everything to Danny. To stay away from him for six months, when being away from him for even thirty minutes felt like his core was being ripped out, would be absolute torture.

But it would be worth it if it meant that Tim would be okay. He didn’t want to become Vlad. He didn’t want Tim to treat him like his mom treated Vlad.

So instead of asking for a little bit of time away from Tim, Danny decided that the best course of action was to break up with Tim.

Hopefully, on a bad note— so bad that Tim hated him so much that Danny’s core would give up and move on. Liar, a voice hissed. You know your core will break if that happens.

Or maybe they would end on a neutral note, and Tim would move on and find someone better— someone who wasn’t a ghost, someone who could love Tim normally as he deserved— which made Danny’s core ache.

But it was okay.

Because it was for Tim.

(Tu es manques de mon ame = You are missing from my soul)

Do i do part two? who knows

[wheels-of-despair]

Me Without You Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie's got another weird question for Evil Woman. Contains: A random question, a non-answer, a little panic, fluff. Words: 600ish

"What would you do if I died?"

"Avenge you," you answer, flipping a page in your magazine. You're lying on your stomach on Eddie's bed, and he's playing guitar in his chair. Just another average Wednesday evening. Alone. Unsupervised. In various states of undress. Doing different things on opposite sides of the room. Just happy to be near each other.

"No, seriously."

You look up to see that Eddie, half-lying in his chair with his bare feet propped up on the mess he calls a desk, is staring at you and waiting for his answer. He's not even looking at his guitar anymore, but he doesn't miss a note in a song that sounds vaguely Iron Maiden-y.

You think about the question for half a second before responding: "Pass."

"You can't pass," he argues, finally setting his other sweetheart aside. "Answer me."

"Nope," you make sure to pop the P as you turn to another glossy page of the magazine you're not really reading anymore.

"I wanna know!"

"Too bad."

"What would you do if I died, dammit?"

You toss the magazine aside, no longer able to focus on whatever the hell it was you found fascinating a few minutes ago.

"Why, are you planning on doing something stupid?"

"No."

"You already have a backup picked out and you want me to justify your choice of skank?"

"No."

"Then why are you obsessing over something so sad?"

"I'm just curious," he shrugs.

"Then you can keep on being curious," you sigh, crossing your arms on the bed and resting your cheek on them. You close your eyes. "Because I refuse to acknowledge a world without you in it."

Silence.

You hear the chair creak as he gets up. You freeze. Why do you feel tense all of a sudden? Your heart feels like it's beating faster and slower at the same time. You feel him approach. The mattress moves. He's put a knee on the bed beside your hip. And then the other. He's going to crawl over you.

No, he's going to lie on top of you.

He eases himself down a little bit at a time. You stay still, welcoming his body heat and oddly comforting weight.

"You can't just say shit like that to me," he mumbles, his lips grazing your ear.

"Why not?" you argue. "It's true."

Eddie kisses your neck, sighs, and rolls to the side. He lands beside you. You turn your head toward him. Your faces are just inches apart.

"You'd be fine without me," he says.

"I wouldn't be me without you," you whisper.

Something sad flashes through Eddie's eyes, and you feel it tug at your heart. He reaches for your hand, then brings it to his lips for a kiss.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispers.

"You better not," you breathe. "If you die, I die."

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you. You stare at each other in silence. It feels as though the world has stopped entirely. And then Eddie leans forward. His lips meet yours for a kiss so soft, it barely feels real. When he pulls back, your brain screams at you to chase his touch. You can't let him go. Not yet.

"Then we get to haunt the shit out of people, right?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You laugh quietly, relief flooding through you. The spell has been broken, the air has been cleared, the world has started to spin again. You've got him. He's got you. Things are just the way they should be.

"We don't have to wait 'til we're dead for that," you grin. "Wanna know what I've been doing to Gareth every night for the last week?"

[sprinkler-ashes]

the great war // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 5.5k

description: in which aaron hotchner thinks you’re hot-headed. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

warnings: angst w/ a happy ending, one (1) car makeout, cursing, typical cm violence depictions

a/n: long time no see, and i’m sorry about that. to make a long story short, summer was very awful on me; i had a breakup and am now back in school + drowning in work. I love this fic so much; it’s probably my favorite i’ve ever written and i hope you love it too <3 also!!! if you have a request for a fic to a song, please send it my way! taylor swift is my go-to, but i am open to any song request <3

you drew up some good faith treaties

i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

you said i have to trust more freely

but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

You should have known better than to date someone you worked with. No, actually, you should have known better than to date, of all people, your boss.

Date was a loose term.

You weren’t really sure when the lines between co-workers blurred into friendship and when friendship blossomed into early morning coffee dates and late evenings in the office together doing paperwork, and even later nights spent at dinner tables being hours deep into conversation. You knew it hadn’t happened out of nowhere. This thing between the two of you had been building up for years – years of pining.

There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that it was all too good to be true, but you pushed it back as far as you could. Besides, the two of you hadn’t even called it dating, but it sure did feel like it.

But it hadn’t felt like that in a really long time.

Aaron had put a stop to whatever was going on four months ago. He had given you some bullshit excuse that he was your boss, it was wrong of him to be doing whatever the two of you were doing with his subordinate — blah, blah – but you had stopped listening when your heart became so heavy you thought it was going to physically weigh you down.

You had been through breakups before, even some serious ones, but nothing had ever felt like this. 

You tried to stop him, but he was also a man who had made his mind up; it was impossible to get through to him that you didn’t want to end it.

So you went back to work acting like nothing had happened. And it was about to be the death of you.

However, you were a professional. It’s not like the team even knew about you and Aaron. You acted the same as always when you were at work. No one suspected anything because no one knew what you were going through.

You didn’t talk to Aaron unless you had to. Truthfully, you hadn’t spoken to him for anything that wasn’t work-related since he basically dumped you on a random Wednesday evening for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try.

In the beginning, you tried reaching out. You called, you texted him a couple of times, and you had even been so desperate one night that you sent him an email. Each time, you were met with rejection, and him saying something along the lines that both of you should just forget about everything.

So you did by cutting all contact. You thought to yourself, I’ll show him, but it really did nothing. If it bothered him, he never showed it.

It seemed like nothing bothered him until now. A whole whopping four months later.

“Not only did you blow our cover, but you walked into a hostage situation with no weapon to defend yourself; you didn’t even strap a vest on. You are lucky that no one died or was seriously injured.” Aaron wasn’t yelling – he was actually just slightly an octave below yelling – but it sure as hell sounded like he was screaming because his voice had never been like this towards you.

You frowned, not liking the way he was calling you out in front of everyone – in front of a group of people that you greatly admired and respected. “What else was I supposed to do, Hotch? If I hadn’t gone in there, that woman would have died. I was trying to save her life.”

“Save her life?” he asked incredulously. “From the moment you burst through those doors, you put her in even more danger than she was already in. Not only could she have died, but you also could have.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit over this?” you asked, throwing your hands up in anger, not paying attention to the awkward glances your team was giving each other. “I’m not the only one who's done this, and I won’t be the last. I don’t care to risk my life trying to save someone else. I’m sorry that I blew everyone’s cover, but I won’t apologize for saving her.”

Aaron shook his head, his demeanor that was normally unreadable was completely gone. “You’re on probation, effectively immediately-”

“What? I, Hotch-”

“You will not physically assist in any cases for the next two weeks. You will still travel to cases, but you will work directly from the police department. You will not be allowed to go in the field.”

He kept talking, his mouth moving a mile a minute listing off all the things you were allowed to do and what you couldn’t do, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. You were so tempted to slap your boss across the face and if it wouldn’t have technically been workplace harassment, you probably would have.

“Hotch, we’ve all made mistakes,” Derek Morgan said. “No one ended up hurt tonight. With all due respect, I think a two week probation is a little harsh.”

You wanted to thank Derek for sticking up for you, but you couldn’t form words at that moment. Your feet were on the move faster than you could even think as they took you to the SUV that you’d arrived in, not wanting to hear Aaron talk to Derek about you. All you wanted to do was get on the jet, leave the small Arkansas town you were in, get back to Quantico, and try to stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as you liked to think.

You rode back to the hotel with Emily and JJ, who had let you sit in the front seat, and didn’t dare look either of them in the eye. Emily tried to make small talk to lighten the mood, but you could barely even think about anything other than your probation and the way that Aaron had talked to you in front of everyone. She eventually took the hint, and the three of you rode back to the hotel in silence.

You finally turned to Emily once the SUV came to a stop. “Do you know if we’re leaving tonight or in the morning?” Normally, if you finished a case late, you always preferred to spend the night in the hotel in order to get some rest, but there was nothing you wanted more than to just go home now.

“Uh, tonight,” Emily said with a grimace. “Sorry, I know you usually hate leaving immediately after.”

You shook your head. “Not this time. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home more than I do right now.”

Emily eyed you up and down, taking in your slumped, exhausted body. Her eyes flickered up to the mirror, catching JJ’s eye who was giving an equally worried look. “Do you want to talk-”

“Not right now, Emily,” you interrupted. “I’m going to pack my stuff up. Can you send me a text when it’s time to go?”

Emily looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t, sensing you obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “See you guys soon.” With that, you were out of the SUV before either of them could unbuckle their seatbelts and on your way to the entrance of the hotel you were staying in along with the rest of the team.

Typically, you shared a room with someone, but luckily for you, it was your turn to get your own this time, which you couldn’t have been more thankful for when you swiped your keycard and finally got to be alone for a minute.

You knew that Emily meant well. She had been one of your closest friends since you had joined the team. You felt a tinge of guilt at how closed off you had been to her in the car when she was just trying to make sure you were okay. However, you really weren’t okay, and you really didn’t want Emily to know the full extent of what was going on.

After hastily packing your things and grabbing a quick shower, you received a text from Emily that it was time to go. On your way down to the lobby to meet her, it was finally setting in that you were, quite literally, exhausted. You’d been awake since before daylight and a quick glance at the time shining on your phone reminded you that you had been awake for nearly seventeen hours.

You rode with Emily, JJ, and Rossi to board the jet, but ended up napping the entire short duration of the drive. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until Rossi had nudged you awake.

When you were finally in the air, you allowed yourself to catch a glance at your infuriating boss who was still, as usual, in his suit with his tie and jacket discarded, writing in a file.

Probably writing me up, you bitterly thought to yourself. You knew you had done a not-very-smart thing, but by the time you figured out that the original plan the team came up with wasn’t going to work, it was too late. If you hadn’t darted through the door and startled the unsub, the poor woman who was taken hostage was going to meet a very similar fate that four other women faced.

You could admit that it was a rash, last minute decision, but you didn’t regret it. You saved a woman’s life and helped capture an awful man who would have never stopped if not caught. It felt like Aaron was punishing you for something that wasn’t the decision you made tonight. Two weeks on probation felt a little extreme to you.

Twenty minutes into the flight, Derek, Rossi, and JJ were already asleep while Emily looked like she was close to following. Spencer was nursing what you thought was his second coffee in the short time on the jet, a pair of headphones in as he watched something on the tablet he had propped up.

That left only you and Aaron sitting in silence.

This had been a particularly hard case that had to be solved in under seventy-two hours in order to prevent any more victims since you, with the help of Spencer, figured out that the unsub operated on stalking and kidnapping his victims on a specific schedule. Hardly anyone had gotten much sleep in an attempt to solve the case as soon as possible – hence why nearly everyone was asleep.

Aaron finally spoke after nearly fifty minutes into the flight from his seat in front of you after Emily and Spencer had finally drifted off, though you weren’t sure how Spencer was even sleeping considering he had downed two coffees. “You should get some rest.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said bitterly, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “I’ll be getting lots of rest in the next two weeks considering I can’t really do anything else on probation, so thanks, but I’m good.” The words were tumbling out before you could even comprehend what you’d said. In a normal situation, you’d be worried that speaking to your boss like that would result in its own consequences but considering you were already on probation, what was the harm?

He said nothing.

—

It was nine days into what felt like the most excruciatingly long probation known to man, and you still had five more days to go.

You had just gotten back from a case in Maine where you, unfortunately, barely got to do anything other than help out at the police station. In addition, you had to finish several online modules assigned to you by Strauss on safety in the field, which was, in your opinion, ridiculous considering you had been at the BAU for a good amount of time – long enough to know all about safety in the field.

“I think I’ve gone past the point of exhaustion,” Emily said as you came off the elevator as she stifled a yawn. “Is that a real thing?”

“Yes, my beautiful friend who I am so happy to see. That means you need to get home and rest.”

Penelope Garcia was there to greet you at the elevator, a warm smile lighting up her face as she gave Emily a hug then turned to you. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine in five days when this stupid probation is over,” you told Penelope, watching her give you a sympathetic smile.

“I’m heading out, but you have my number if you need me,” she told you with a comforting pat to your arm. “Goodnight ladies.”

Penelope was on the elevator to leave as you and Emily, after waving off Penelope, filed off to your desks to pack up to go back to your apartments.

“Got a hot date tonight?” Emily asked jokingly.

You laughed and shook your head. “Haven’t had a hot date in a long time. What about you?”

It was true. The last date you had been on was four months ago with the man who also happened to be your boss and who also happened to be your number one enemy right now.

“Just with Sergio.”

You and Emily were already on your way out to leave for the night officially until you stopped in your tracks when you reached the elevator. “Ugh, I just realized I left my phone charger at my desk. You can go on without me.”

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting,” she said as she stepped into the elevator.

You nodded. “Go on; it’s late. Have a good night, Emily.”

A huff left your mouth as you turned back on your heel to walk back to your desk. Your hands grasped the charger laying under several files that you (probably) needed to look at, but tonight was not the night for that.

However, you realized it was definitely not your night at all when you tried to turn your car on, only to be met with a sound of spluttering.

“Not tonight,” you groaned, repeatedly trying to turn your key to start the engine, but the car never started, much to your luck. “Are you serious right now?”

Your car was by no means brand new, but it was a good car and not often did it give you problems. Except for tonight. Or in other words, the one night you desperately wanted to go home, take a shower, and go to bed.

You weren’t really sure of your options. You could probably call Emily. She couldn’t have gotten too far down the road. Maybe she could give you a ride since her apartment was on the way to your place. Another option was calling an Uber, but –

Your car door opening knocked you out of your train of thought. Your brain immediately went into fight-or-flight, and you chose fight as your hands instinctively reached for the pepper spray on your key ring.

“Hey! It’s just me.”

It was Aaron with his hands outstretched into a surrender position, his suit jacket hanging from the crease where his arm bent. “Why are you sitting in the parking lot in the dark with your car unlocked? Do you know how easy it would be for someone to-”

“Come up and kidnap me? Yeah, I learned all about it in my online safety training this past week as if I didn’t already know,” you sassed with an eye roll. “I think my battery is dead. I usually keep jumper cables in here, but I cleaned my car out last week and must have taken them out. I’m probably going to have to call an Uber.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him all of this. The small voice in the back of your head knew why, but you weren’t willingly to actively think about it. You had enough on your plate right now.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Like hell you will,” you told him.

“You do know I’m your boss, and you technically can’t speak to me like that?”

“You won’t fire me. You'll just put me on probation.”

He paused, his eyes closing momentarily before opening them again and going back to his stoic demeanor as usual. “Let me drive you home, so I will know that you got home safely. Please.”

You wanted to say no, but it was late and getting a ride home from Aaron meant that you didn’t have to bother Emily or lose money on an Uber. The only thing you’d be losing, in your opinion, was what little dignity you had left when it came to Aaron.

It’s just a ride home, you told yourself in your head.

“Fine.” You had admitted defeat. “Give me a second.”

He turned his back to you and started to walk away from your car. When you knew for sure he couldn’t see you, you positioned the rearview mirror so you could see yourself in it. Before you could stop yourself, you attempted to fix your hair as nicely as possible and then took a moment to stop what you were doing. You scoffed at yourself and shook your head.

“What is wrong with me?” You asked yourself aloud. “He doesn’t care. Neither do you.”

However, after you grabbed your things, you did sneak one more look in the mirror before getting out of your car and locking it. You were glad when you took another look to see Aaron not looking in your direction. 

 You made your way over to Aaron’s signature parking spot, the same one he parked in every morning, and met him there, his hands typing something out on his phone until he noticed your presence.

Without missing a beat, he opened the passenger door for you. You wanted to tell your heart to stop when that familiar flutter came back like it used to all those months ago. You opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could say anything.

“No need for a remark. I’m just opening the door for you.”

“I was going to say thanks.”

A ghost of a smile danced across his face as he shut the door. It was so quick if you weren’t paying attention then you wouldn’t have seen it.

Your eyes adjusted to the interior of Aaron’s car, déjà vu hitting you from the first time you were ever in his car. But you forced those thoughts back down with a grimace and a reminder of how that ended the first time.

With one hand gripping the wheel and the other holding onto the back of your seat as his torso turned, eyes watching behind as he backed out, you thought you were going to throw up. Not because you were sick, but because Aaron was so damn attractive in doing the simplest things like backing up a car.

“You can turn on the radio if you want,” Aaron told you. “Your cord is still in here.”

You bit your lip, eyes locking onto the green cord still plugged in. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere. I had to buy a new one for my car.”

Back when you were frequently with Aaron, and he was typically the designated driver when you went places, you often complained about the lack of music in his car. He only listened to whatever was on the radio. He had no CDs nor did he have an AUX cord, claiming something about never being in his personal car long enough to deal with music in it.

After that day, you put your AUX cord in his car the next time you were in it and controlled the music, often giving him a performance to your favorite songs in the car as he drove. Aaron never complained like a lot of guys would. Instead, he would watch you belt a heartbreak ballad with an amused smile.

But that was months ago. And things were much different now.

“I would’ve given it back to you, but it’s slipped my mind. Feel free to take it with you.”

The happy memories that the AUX cord brought back were pushed to the back of your head again at his words. He told you to take it because there was no point in it anymore. You two were done.

You didn’t plug the cord into your phone. You didn’t play a song. You sat in the terrible silence, wishing it wasn’t silent like before, but it was silent, and Aaron was acting like nothing was wrong. 

Another awkward moment passed as he kept driving, the route to where you lived engraved as he had driven there many times. Aaron didn’t have to ask you where you lived because he knew. He knew from all the late nights he dropped you back off. The thought of all the previous times you’d been on this exact same drive under different circumstances made your head hurt.

“Why did you put me on probation?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“You know why I put you on probation. You comprised the safety of yourself, the team, and-”

“I compromised the safety of myself, the team, and the victim, yes, I know, but you put me on a two week probation when I can name off countless times that others on the team have done worse and didn’t get put on a two-week probation,” you argued back. “I know I messed up, but at the end of the day, it feels like you’re punishing me for something.”

He nodded, his eyes staying trained on the road. “I am punishing you for something, and that something is compromising-”

“I swear if you say compromise one more time-”

“Compromising your safety and the safety of others.”

You didn't say anything. Your arms were crossed as you looked out the window and into the dark as objects moved past you, reaching closer to your destination.

Aaron spoke your name, but you didn’t want to look at him.

“What?”

“Look at me,” he said as the car came to a stop at a redlight.

You reluctantly looked over, not prepared to see him already looking at you. You swallowed, trying to keep your gaze on him.

“I’d rather you be angry with me than even thinking about the possibility of you getting hurt.”

You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to because he kept going.

“When I saw you run into that warehouse, it was one of the only times in my life that I have been so scared that I couldn’t think straight. I put you on probation because you did something reckless. All of us outside thought we lost you when we heard the gunshots. I know you and a few others thought probation was too harsh, but it’s important for you to know that if you’re going to storm a hostage situation, you have to communicate with us. The team cannot lose you,” Aaron told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t lose you. Understood?”

You were pretty sure that at this point your voice was gone. You simply nodded.

The light turned green, and Aaron started driving again, his eyes finally breaking contact. “Finish out your probation next week and then put it behind you.”

There were no more words spoken. It was silent. You didn’t know how to respond to anything he had just said to you.

Except you did have one question. You weren’t even sure if you wanted the answer to it.

“If you can’t lose me,” you started, fiddling with the sleeve of your top, “then why did you end things?”

“It was for the best,” Aaron said, breaking your heart all over again. “I’m your boss-”

“You being my boss didn’t seem to be a problem when your mouth was on mine every time you dropped me off from dinner.”

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. You sat smugly in your seat waiting for him to say something.

“You want the truth?”

“I’ve only been asking you for the truth for four months now,” you shot back.

“I fell in love with you.”

Aaron said it so casually that you had to do a double take, your mouth slightly opening. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you did not in a million years think that would be it. Your heart was pounding, and there was a moment where you thought that you had imagined him saying that he fell in love with you, but he really did say it.

He continued. “I thought it was best to end what was going on between us because things would’ve only escalated, and I didn’t want people to think negatively about you. You’re a strong woman in a male-dominated field. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. You should be taken seriously and unfortunately, going out with your boss doesn’t look good on paper. I hurt you, and I’m truly sorry for that.”

You hadn’t even realized it when Aaron had finally pulled up to the huge parking lot of your apartment building, which was surprisingly vacant for a Thursday night. The words he’d said were dancing around in your head. You hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Even after everything, all you really wanted was him.

“Aaron,” you said as you turned to him when he put the car in park, “I mean this with all due respect, but that’s not just your decision to make. I should get a say. I wish you had told me because for the last four months I’ve been going crazy with overthinking. That’s why it hurt so much when you put me on probation. I thought you were punishing me for something between us. Please don’t shut me out because I’m in love with you, and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what people say about me.”

“But people will talk about you-”

“So?”

“And there’s also Strauss-”

“Who we can deal with. I’m not afraid of Erin Strauss,” you cut him off again.

He raised his eyes before you spoke again. “Okay, maybe I’m slightly afraid of her, but that doesn’t change anything. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. If people want to talk about me for being in love, then let them. I just want to be with you, so please stop trying to protect me. I can handle anything.”

“Okay,” Aaron said after a minute. “Okay. If you want to do this, there is a lot to discuss work-wise.”

“That’s fine. I have a lot of time to discuss things. I’m on probation.” 

Every other time you had brought up your probation, it had been with anger, but this time, there was only a grin on your face. Even though you were still mad about that damn probation, which was another conversation for another time, you figured you might as well make a joke out of it.

Aaron couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yes, you are for five more days. You still have one more module on safety in the field to complete.”

“Screw you,” you said half-jokingly.

“You wish,” he shot right back.

“You’re damn right I do.”

It was as if there was a shift in the air. You’d spent four months without him and in that moment you had decided you never really wanted to go another second without him. There was still a lot to talk about between the two of you, but for now, all you really wanted to do was kiss him.

Even when the two of you were “seeing” each other, or whatever it was, there wasn’t much physical affection. Aaron always kissed you before dropping you off at night, but it was always short, sweet, and simple. Tonight, you didn’t want short, sweet, and simple as your goodbye kiss.

“You should be getting in. It’s late,” he told you, but neither of you made an effort to move. In fact, it felt like you had only gotten closer. You could feel Aaron’s breath fan your face.

You leaned even closer, your face only inches from his. “You gonna tell me goodnight?”

Aaron never replied, only moving to close the small gap between the two of you, his lips pressing against yours in a way that almost felt desperate.

You were the one to take it a step further as your mouth opened wider and one of your hands slid up to rest on his shoulder. Aaron gladly took the hint. His tongue was in your mouth and before you could process it, one hand had moved to cup your face while the other rested on your thigh.

He pulled back for a moment, but only to mess with something under his seat. You gave him a confused look, still breathing heavily. “What are you doing?”

Aaron’s seat had scooted back further to open more room between him and the steering wheel, and you realized what he was doing now. He simply shrugged. “The console is in the way.”

With that, you laughed and maneuvered yourself across the center console that Aaron seemed to hate at the moment. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist in an attempt to help you move over and onto him – literally.

You took in your current situation for a moment. You were straddling Aaron Hotchner in his car in a parking lot. If you had told yourself earlier in the morning that this is where you would be, you would not have believed it.

His lips were back on yours before you could think about anything else, hands still gripping your waist while yours moved to his hair. You were pressed against him, your chest to his, and left no room between the two of you.

“This okay?” He mumbled as his warm hands snaked underneath your shirt, now resting on your bare hips. He pressed a kiss to your jaw while you nodded, a deep breath leaving your mouth. He smiled against your jaw before reattaching his lips again, but this time to your neck.

You couldn’t think of the last time you felt like this. Your body felt like it was literally on fire, and Aaron’s mouth wasn’t doing anything to extinguish that fire – only making it worse.

As much as you loved the hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, you cupped his face, guiding him back up to your lips. Your hands slid to tangle in his hair, earning you a throaty sound from him, which only encouraged you further as you smiled against his lips before going back to kissing him.

Aaron pulled back only a few seconds later, both of you breathing heavily in a hot and flustered state. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we probably shouldn’t get too carried away in here.”

“What? Car sex isn’t on your bucket list?” You joked.

He laughed as you leaned into the hand cupping your face. “You deserve better than a car the first time.”

“So what I’m hearing is car sex after the first time?”

Aaron gave you one of his rare grins, and it lit up your entire world. “You are impossible.”

“I’m just kidding,” you said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I really should be getting in the bed. My boss is making me come in at eight-thirty tomorrow for a meeting.”

“Oh really? He sounds very smart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and with the help of Aaron, you moved back over to the passenger seat. “I will see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it.”

You gave him one last kiss before gathering your bag and opening the car door. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight,” he told you.

You shut the door and with a smile on your face, waved to him one last time before making your way towards the entrance of your apartment building.

However, before you could get very far, you heard Aaron’s voice calling your name. You turned around to see him with his window down.

“Did I forget something?” You called to him and watched confusedly as he shook his head.

“Your hair looked fine earlier. You didn’t have to fix it just for me.”

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @runninriot! You're lingerie fic idea is so GOOD!!

To be honest there hasn't been a lot of wormy ideas crawling through my covid brain fog, but this is what I've got.

~~~

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Mike saw a bully paying in blood for his past mistakes. A former king paying penance for every kid he ever stepped on, every girl he ever left behind. Steve's been trying to prove for months he's a better person than he used to be, that he actually deserves someone like Nancy. Well, Mike thinks this is a good start.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Dustin saw the coolest guy he knows stand up for a group of nerds. A rich kid with a nice car who was still willing to help him when he asked for it. Steve's never talked to him before, but when Dustin needed it, the guy dropped everything he was doing to keep him safe.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Max saw someone like her brother, but so, so unlike him in all the ways that mattered. A random high school guy took one look at her, just some random girl, and decided there was no difference between her and the boys, that he'd take her in under his protection the same as them. That in less than a day, Steve was more of a brother to her than Billy ever was.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Lucas saw a jock use his strength for good. He saw a boy who was no brains all brawn, captain of the swim team and basketball team, use those muscles to protect him and his friends. Someone who was strong enough to take on monsters and bullies without hesitation. Steve's the only Fighter the Party has, and maybe that's something Lucas can help with.

~~~

I can't stop thinking about how this scene should've been a more pivotal moment for Steve's character arc in relation to the Party.

Alright here's the tags! No pressure!

@lingeringmirth @cuips-not-cute @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @devondespresso @pearynice

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 17

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: you finally get a chance to paint Larissa (smut ensues).

words: ~ 3.1k | ao3 link in title

A/N: once again thank you to @afeatherformills for all of the planning and beta-ing, and to my gf as well. i drive both of them crazy and am eternally grateful that they haven't yet told me to stick this fic where the sun don't shine :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That Saturday you were deep in thought as you navigated the halls of Nevermore, making your way to Larissa’s office. So deep in thought that you hardly noticed Enid walking past you.

“Hey!”

Your head snapped up and you looked around for the source of the voice. Finding it, your face softened and you stepped towards the blonde. “Enid. You okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, her face falling a bit. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for convincing Weems not to expel us.”

You laughed. “I didn’t have to convince her of anything. Is she really that stern?”

Enid’s lips curled up into a smile. “Sometimes. She can be really cool, but sometimes she’s a bit scary.”

“I’m sure it’s just because she cares,” you replied - truth be told you’d seen Larissa’s ‘scary’ side in action when dealing Wednesday, and you could certainly understand Enid’s point. But as long as Larissa’s anger wasn’t directed at you, you thought your girlfriend was kind of hot when she was angry - a fact you decided to keep to yourself.

“Maybe.” Enid shrugged. “Say hi to Weems for me.”

“Sure,” you replied, feeling yourself blush. As you were about to say goodbye, you were struck with an idea. “Wait.”

You reached into your bag, with Enid watching you curiously as you pulled out your sketchbook and flipped to a random page, scribbling your number on it and tearing it out.

“Here. If you guys are in trouble again, you should have someone to call.” She took the paper with a shy smile. “I’m never going back out there again. But… thanks.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she entered your number and shot you a text. “Now you have mine, too.”

“Thanks. Stay safe, Enid,” you teased gently, earning yourself a giggle from the young girl.

~~~

“Come in,” called Larissa’s smooth voice as you knocked on her office door minutes later.

You did as you were told, closing and locking the door behind you. The sound of the lock clicking was not lost on Larissa, who looked up from her laptop with a smirk plastered on her face.

“Hello, darling,” she purred, her fingers pausing in their frantic typing as she waited for you to cross the room, drop the large canvas bag you were holding, and give her a kiss. “Pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips as she pulled you onto her lap. Deepening the kiss, she flicked her tongue against yours, drawing a breathy moan from your throat which she swallowed eagerly. Her hands came to rest on your thighs, rubbing circles overtop your trousers as her breathing became more shallow. 

You chuckled into the kiss, pulling back reluctantly - Larissa let out a little whine, pouting slightly as she stilled her hands in their movements.

“Rissa…” you whined playfully, wrapping her arms around her neck. “I wanted to paint you while we still have some natural sunlight.”

“Mmm, I know, I know.” Larissa sighed, resting her forehead against yours and sliding her hands up to your waist. “Just tell me what you want from me, I’m all yours today.”

“Thank you.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to her cheek and whispering in her ear - you didn’t miss the shiver that ran down her spine as your warm breath hit the side of her neck. “I actually had an idea for what I wanted to do, may I ask you to accompany me to your bedroom?”

Larissa threw her head back as she laughed, squeezing your waist. When her laughter died down and she locked eyes with you once more, you were met with amusement and desire in equal measure. “Lead the way,” she replied with a smirk as you slid off her lap and held a hand out for her to take, grabbing your bag with the other hand.

She placed her palm in your own and stood, following you to her quarters and straight into her bedroom. “And what will you have me do in here?”

“Well I noticed that the light that comes in here in the early afternoon would be perfect for painting you.” You placed the bag you were carrying at the foot of the bed and looked around the room, your eyes falling to Larissa’s vanity. “Can I move this?”

Larissa chuckled, eyeing you curiously. “That’s fine…” She helped you clear it and drag it to the end of the bed, then sat down at the edge of the bed, kicking her heels off and watching you set up your tabletop easel, a canvas, and your paints. “And how will you have me pose? Would you like me naked in my bed?” she asked playfully.

“You know I would never object to having you naked in your bed,” you teased back, watching Larissa blush, her lips curling up into a shy smile as her gaze dropped to her lap. Once you were satisfied with your set-up, you stepped in front of Larissa, placing a finger underneath her chin and lifting it until her gaze met yours. “I was thinking we could get rid of some of these clothes though…” 

You gave Larissa’s collar a playful tug, receiving an eye-roll and a fake-annoyed huff in return. With a soft smirk playing on her lips, she undid the belt of her dress, then the top buttons, then tugged it over her head, dropping it onto the floor. 

“This too.” You snapped the strap of her bra - she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and tossing it onto the dress.

“And let me help you with these.” You hooked your fingers under the waistband of her underwear, never breaking eye contact as you dragged them down her legs. You could see her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them as she spread her legs open for you. When you dropped the underwear to the floor and stood again, you found yourself standing in between her thighs. Larissa’s hands came to rest on your hips, her eyelashes fluttering as her gaze flicked down your body. 

“You know it’s more than a little unfair that you’re still fully clothed, darling,” she husked, watching you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? I can change that.” You stripped yourself of your own clothing under Larissa’s hungry gaze, tossing the garments onto the growing pile. “This better?”

“A little.” Larissa bit her lip. “I know something else that could help.” You raised an eyebrow as Larissa stood from the bed, towering over you as she straightened to her full height. Grabbing hold of your waist, she spun you around and pushed you back onto the bed before crawling on top of you and looking down at you. “Much better,” she purred.

Smirking, you reached down to grab the backs of her thighs. “If you want to be on top so bad you only have to ask,” you teased. “You know what I’ve been wanting to try?”

“Hmm?”

“Having you sit on my face.” You gave the backs of her thighs an insistent tug. “Interested?”

Larissa let out a little groan, leaning down to capture your lips in a lustful kiss.

“Is that a yes?”

You couldn’t help but grin as Larissa rolled her eyes, shifting so that her bare pussy was hovering over your face, her plush thighs bracketing your head. “Yes, that is a yes, darling.” Her entrance glistened with her arousal, the scent of which was already beginning to drive you mad. You wrapped your arms around her thighs, pressing soft kisses to her skin that caused her to let out little whimpers. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” you breathed - she began to lower herself onto your waiting tongue, which immediately traced a path up her slit. “Fuck, you taste amazing.”

Larissa’s hips found a good rhythm, rolling against your face and matching the pace of your tongue as it circled her throbbing clit. Loud, breathy moans fell from her lips as she cupped her own breasts and rubbed her palms roughly over her nipples. From this angle it was hard to see her face as she tilted her head back, losing herself in pleasure, so you focused on the sounds of her moans and the lewd noises of your tongue against her wet cunt, on the feeling of her smooth thighs under your hands, on the sight of her tits bouncing slightly with every buck of her hips. 

“Mmm you look so good touching yourself like that,” you moaned against her pussy, allowing your tongue to explore her folds before slipping it into her entrance. Her walls clenched around you and her hips stuttered slightly in their movements as she stammered out a breathy reply.

“Y-you feel so good…”

“Look at me,” you commanded, waiting until Larissa’s eyes - dark and hooded - were on you before thrusting your tongue into her hole, as deep as you could. You could see her cheeks flush and her breathing falter for a moment as she adjusted to having your tongue inside of her. You groaned as you watched her watch you, as she rolled her own nipples between her fingers while you fucked her. 

As she bucked her hips against your face you ran your tongue back up her slit, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking feverishly. Larissa’s movements became more and more erratic, her moans growing in volume as you found just the right pressure to bring her over the edge.

“I’m s-so cl- mmh- close, I can’t - shit-” Larissa’s voice was hoarse as her thighs began to tremble around your head - you could tell she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up much longer. You moaned against her clit, tightening your hold on her thighs in encouragement. Larissa fell forward, catching herself on the headboard and crying out in pleasure as she came, her juices coating your tongue and dripping down your chin.

You continued to lap at her pussy, cleaning her up and simultaneously savoring the taste of her. As you felt her thighs shift slightly beside your head, you helped her swing one leg back over your body so that she could lie beside you, breathing heavily.

You pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her eagerly, swallowing her moans as she sucked her arousal off your tongue. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of her lipstick smeared up to her nose. 

“Wait here.” Pushing yourself off the bed, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, getting a makeup wipe and a damp washcloth in the process. Catching sight of Larissa’s bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, you slipped it on, taking a moment to revel in its softness before stopping by the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water.

Returning to the bed, you found Larissa watching you with an amused grin on her face, her eyes dropping to the makeup wipe. “You’re still planning on painting me, aren’t you?” she said with a chuckle. 

“Yep - now drink some water and then hold still.” Larissa did as she was told, humor dancing in her eyes as you cleaned her up - first her thighs and cunt, then the bottom half of her face. “Can I redo your lipstick?” 

Larissa blushed and nodded. “It’s in the drawer of the vanity.”

You took your time to reapply her lipstick, careful to get the edges just right. Larissa was a perfect model for you, holding perfectly still and watching you with hooded eyes. You unpinned her hair, arranging her curls over her shoulders until they hung just right, before moving onto the rest of your “scene” - adjusting the sheets until they were draped over Larissa’s body, revealing the tops of her breasts and clinging to her curves. The early afternoon sun filtered in through the window just how you had envisioned, giving you enough natural light to be able to work properly.

She was an absolute vision, the sun illuminating her blonde curls like a halo, kissing the tip of her nose and giving her a healthy glow. Mascara-coated lashes fluttered a bit against her cheeks when the sun got too bright for her eyes, almost pale blue in this light. You laughed and told her to move her head back a bit, an instruction which she happily complied with.

Sitting down at your easel, you wasted no time in beginning to paint - it was a portrait you’d envisioned painting time and time again, and you were thrilled to finally get the chance. There was something about the shapeshifter in this light, with a post-sex glow about her, that made the moment so special to you.

“You could’ve been a model, you know?” you teased, your heart melting at the pink hue that immediately rose in Larissa’s cheeks. Her lips stretched up into a wide smile that made her laugh lines more prominent and caused her eyes to crinkle at the outer corners - all of the little lines that gave away her age only made her more beautiful to you, stealing the breath right from your lungs.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry, and she shifted underneath the sheets, cocking her head to the side - something that you immediately reprimanded her for, shooing her back into position.

“I’m serious though. Did you always want to become a principal?” You eyed Larissa as her expression turned thoughtful. 

“Not always. What I did want, even in school, was to become a teacher. I’ve always loved working with children, even as a teenager I tutored younger students. But what these kids really need, as outcasts, is someone to advocate for them, and I can do so much more in my role as principal than as a teacher.”

Larissa’s passion for her job never failed to bring a smile to your face, and you glanced over at her between strokes of your paintbrush. “Do you miss teaching?”

“Sometimes…” Larissa’s smile turned pensive, a little sad. “I felt more connected to my students when I taught them directly every day.”

“You really seem to care for them, you know? Like they’re your own.”

“I do… When you get to watch them grow every day over years, they start to feel like family. I’ve always wanted my own…” she trailed off, her expression wistful. A long silence hung in the air and suddenly, Larissa’s cheeks turned red, her gaze dropping to her hands as she began to fidget. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She seemed unable to meet your gaze and you cocked your head to the side - the nervous energy radiating off of her was almost palpable. You set the brush down to give her your full attention.

“Why not?”

Larissa’s blush only deepend, and she sighed. “I’m getting too old for that, anyway. I turn 50 next year, that part of my life has long passed.”

“You could still have that,” you argued - with me, you wanted to add, but you didn’t.

Larissa scoffed, waving a hand in front of her face to distract from her (unwarranted) embarrassment. “You’re young - you’ll learn that you can’t have everything you want in life, and that’s alright. My students are enough for me.”

As much as you wanted to argue with her, you remained silent, mulling over her words in your head. The thought of Larissa settling, giving up on her dreams and desires due to something as stupid as age, broke your heart. You wanted kids, too - maybe not right this second, while you were still in college, but you could see yourself in a few years, chasing a blue-eyed, platinum-blonde-haired toddler around the home you’d share with Larissa. 

“I don’t think you should give up your desires so easily,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Larissa. 

Larissa’s eyes darted to meet yours for only a moment before looking away again. She seemed deep in thought, her brow furrowed a bit. Shaking her head gently, she rolled her shoulders back and let out a deep breath, plastering a smile onto her face - it was neither a genuine smile nor a fake one, but rather something in between.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” you whispered gently.

“You didn’t upset me, my love, that I can assure you,” she whispered back with equal tenderness.

Standing from your seat you rounded the vanity and stepped up to the bed, leaning over Larissa to cup her cheek and kiss her. When you pulled away, her smile was considerably more relaxed, the lines between her eyebrows nearly gone.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and painting. Occasionally you’d catch Larissa giving you a once-over, but she waved it off every time. Not wanting to push her again, you ignored it and allowed her to steer the conversation.

Larissa mentioned Mayor Walker’s funeral the following day and you told her you’d be there, as Robin’s family had been quite close to the mayor and his family. When you asked if Larissa would mind you saying hi to her if they saw each other, she chuckled.

“Darling, I think the secret is out - if Enid knows about us, everyone at this school does.”

You blushed a little at that, but Larissa reassured you that it was alright, she’d love to see you - that small fact made your heart flutter, and you ducked your head behind the canvas to stop Larissa from seeing how red you’d gotten as you added a few final touches to the painting.

“There.” You smiled proudly as you looked between the painting and Larissa. “All done - well, not done done. I need to add some details, and I’ll need to finish parts of the background. But your part is done, you don’t need to sit here while I do that.”

Larissa sat up to stretch, the sheets falling off her body to reveal her rosy nipples and the swell of her stomach. She smiled softly as she caught you staring at her. “Put that paintbrush down and come here,” she cooed. 

You did as you were told, getting up and going to crawl towards her on the bed. She gave your legs a tug, signaling for you to straddle her. Her fingers came to the tie of your robe, giving it a gentle tug and then pushing the robe off your shoulders. She leaned in to kiss you, her bare chest pressing against your own in a way that made your whole body shiver.

Smirking against your lips, she wound her fingers into your hair, her nails scratching lightly against your scalp. “How about you let me show you how much I appreciate you working so hard for me this afternoon, hm?” Her words drew a moan from your throat and you allowed her to push you onto your back and have her way with you, kissing her way down your body and eating you out as if you were her last meal until the both of you were absolutely spent.

x

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Okay I was reading this fic on Tumblr mobile and I accidentally closed the app so the in-app browser closed as well and I can't find the fic again!

-

From what I remember: Derek works in an office, it was his families company and then they died and technically he doesn't own the company but hes like a beneficiary or something so he says technically he owns it? Derek lives with Issac. Issac begins to notice that Derek keeps going to this coffee shop. As I'm typing I think it's called Cups?

Stiles works at a coffee shop with Erica and other random people I think one of them is named Jane? He works the night shift typically but then one of his classes gets switched and he has to work mornings now and he's so tired in the mornings. But of course they are totally enamored by each other, hard pining of course. That's as far as I got :(

Hi @thewolfstash! Anon says it's this one.

Give Me Back My Bones (maybe then we'll talk) by kariye

(1/1 I 32,664 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek meets Stiles on a Wednesday. He comes in for his usual cup of coffee and somehow walks out with hot chocolate, cinnamon on the top, and no idea what just happened there.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Reason with the Mad Mage & Diplomacy with Elves

Note: everything from here on is retroactive/reread, because I stayed up until about 6am on Wednesday night reading until the end because that was the only way to ensure that the characters would be okay.

.

Hey look, now our protagonists are the food, instead of running around holding cooking implements! I'm sure that's fine!! (Look at that lion's eyes!!!)

.

I really like how...everyone? In the pasty gets at least 1 fight where they're totally on their own, for whatever reason: Laios with the living armor and again now with all the dragons, Chilchuck with the mimic, Izutsumi with the succubi, Marcille with the rabbits... I note that the reasons for it are escalating:

Laios fought the armor-captain alone as a strategic choice, while the rest of the party distracted the rest of the armor in the other room

Chilchuck fought the mimic alone because the rest of the party was asleep down the hall

Izutsumi fought the succubi alone because the rest of the party was already down, though not yet dead

Marcille fought the rabbits alone because most of the party was dead and Izutsumi had fled

Laios fights the dragons AND the Mad Mage directing them alone because the entire rest of the party is dead

Solid writing, that. And Senshi...has a monster that is His To Fight, that is where we got some special Senshi character exploration, but the whole point of it was that Senshi, who had been alone for so long, now had people reaching out to hold him, and to make food for him.

.

I just like when they say things outright. "Meals are an act of optimism." "Only the dead don't eat." Fuck yeah!

.

EYES EYES EYES EYES EYES. Thinking a lot here about that post about how Thistle is a great example of an antagonist who is really truly too far gone to "talk it out" with. His intentions ARE good, and Laios sees that so Laios tries... and Thistle is also trying, it's just...the demon has been playing on him for too long with too much skill.

.

He's so! Earnest! And young! It's implied that he dies in the end, and I do think that's a narratively solid and restful ending for him, but man I want this kid to live and maybe covertly tag along with Mithrun on exploring the risen kingdom and defending it from random monsters, and re-learning how to have healthy desires. I think it'd be good for both of them, and also, potentially very funny.

.

me, 2 posts ago:

me, now: Ah, yes, that makes sense... Not our heroes but Someone sure is.

.

Fucking love multiple consecutive dungeon lords going, "my last wish is to fuck that guy up."

.

They're just...happy...

.

Love love love Chilchuck taking charge when Laios isn't there, especially in the context of "imminent tense 'diplomatic' meeting." He formed a union! He's good at this shit, and he'd be even better at it if he didn't have the handicap of being disrespected as a halffoot, and it's wonderful to see him with a team that has learned to respect him beyond that prejudice!

Also, Senshi's tiny eye wrinkle of determination <3

.

Never mind my previous comment. Chilchuck is never allowed to do diplomatic relations with the elves ever again.

.

Kabru, internally: oh my god we're all going to die

.

I'm just noting Ms. fresh-faced aristocratic scion and the handful of extremely competent, notch-eared criminals she's in charge of... The structure of this lead group of Canaries is very interesting, because Mithtrun is nominally in charge, and he genuinely does command in combat and other matters focused on immediate dungeon lord-hunting. But he's ONLY focussed on that, so Pattindol is clearly accustomed to taking the lead in situations with more social nuance... And the criminal members make decisions on their own such as to take advantage of Mithrun's typical disappearance to go snoop around this house... But they are accustomed, and I'm sure required, to have permission/orders from a guard to use their black magic specialties, see: the enchantment of Laios, Chilchuck & Senshi here, or in their opening mushroom fight when everyone was shouting out how they could kill the mega-mushroom.

...I'm gonna pay attention to how Pattindol and Flamela [I hope I'm getting these names right] interact later. The Canaries are such an interesting paramilitary unit.

.

This is just a screencap of Kabru's life for the rest of his life. Good luck, Mr. Future Royal Advisor!

.

Every good adventure story, and arguably every good story, period, reaches a point where to explain it makes you sound COMPLETELY insane - sometimes even with the context of the rest of the story up to that point. This...is very much that point.

I love that point so much.

.

It's unreasonably stressful that Kabru's hands are obviously magically, invisibly handcuffed this entire scene. It's a metaphor for how he's handcuffed by the general threat the Canaries represent, of course, making him unable to warn Laios of the dangers of both the Canaries and of the demon. Being able to weird a sword would do nothing to help if it's going well or if it all goes wrong. But it's still stressful! And Laios doesn't know about the dangers just like he doesn't put together that Kabru is invisibly handcuffed!

.

God I love Marcille. And her problem-solving methods.

.

FINALLY, SOME GOOD FUCKING SILENT COMMUNICATION.

.

So! A court magician's daughter clearly outranks an aristocratic scion sent into the Canaries to prove her family's loyalty to the crown. That makes sense.

Unfortunately, Mithrun's single brain cell, while focussed entirely on destroying the demon, is still capable of Insight checks, and the criminals are basically unfazed by the court hierarchy games that Marchille is trying to play.

.

Why does EVERY elf assume that Marcille's great wish would be to be a full elf! I want to drop Elrond on these people and watch him verbally eviscerate them.

Joke's on you, motherfucker! Her greatest wish would (she thinks) serve all people, and has secondary effects that she could still enjoy!

Marcille: [hears Izutsumi lurking, ready to kick Mithrun in the face]

Marcille: Alright, time to tell a bishie to step the fuck off.

[coochiequeens]

Rest In Peace Debrina Kawam

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/12/31/nyregion/coney-island-subway-burning-victim-identified.html

Debrina Kawam of Toms River, N.J., was burned alive on Dec. 22 in a videotaped killing that shocked New York.

By Chelsia Rose MarciusAndy Newman and Shayla Colon

Published Dec. 31, 2024 Updated Jan. 1, 2025

Investigators have learned the name of a woman who was burned alive — and beyond recognition — aboard a Brooklyn train last week.

The police identified the woman as Debrina Kawam of Toms River, N.J. She was the victim of an apparently random attack captured in videos that showed her bracing herself against the doorway of an F train in Coney Island, her body engulfed by flames. Sebastian Zapeta-Calil, 33, has been accused of setting fire to Ms. Kawam with a lighter and was charged with first-degree murder and arson.

Ms. Kawam’s identity was confirmed on Monday through fingerprint analysis, said Julie Bolcer, a spokeswoman for the city medical examiner’s office. Ms. Kawam was 57, though police officials initially had said she was 61.

Mayor Eric Adams said at a news conference at City Hall on Tuesday that she briefly stayed in the city’s homeless shelter system. “No matter where she lived, that should not have happened,” Mr. Adams said.

Just watching that tape — I couldn’t even watch it all the way through,” he added.

Investigators had used every means possible to identify the woman, the Brooklyn district attorney, Eric Gonzalez, said at a news conference last week. They took her fingerprints and collected DNA evidence. They gathered surveillance footage from the subways, hoping to find a clear image of the woman’s face before the fire.

The fragmentary traces Ms. Kawam left behind in yearbooks and public records sketch a troubled life.

She appeared to have graduated from Passaic Valley Regional High School in Little Falls, N.J., four decades ago. Her yearbook entry from 1985 — illustrated with a photo of her with long, feathered hair — mentioned memories of freshman and sophomore cheerleading and trips to the shore. It listed her ambition as airline stewardess and said that her “secret ambition” was “to party forever.” In a senior poll, she was one of three girls voted “most punk” and one of three girls voted “million-dollar smile.”

A 1985 yearbook photo shows Debrina Kawam, the victim of an apparently random attack on the New York subway.

Credit...US School Yearbook

According to Ms. Kawam’s Facebook profile, she studied business and marketing at Montclair State University; a spokesman for the school said Wednesday that he could not immediately confirm her attendance. From 2000 to 2002, when she was in her 30s, Ms. Kawam was a customer service representative for the New Jersey-based pharmaceutical giant Merck, a company spokeswoman said.

But municipal court records going back 20 years include dozens of minor cases against a Debrina Kawam in cities and towns along the Jersey Shore, in Jersey City and in the suburbs of New York. Most were citations for public drinking, trespassing or disorderly conduct, including the most recent, in July, for public drinking in Atlantic City.

Homelessness in America

Jump in Homelessness: Homelessness soared to the highest level on record in 2024, driven by high rents, stagnant wages and a surge in migrants seeking asylum, the federal government reported.

A Search for Meaning: Religion is often overlooked as a factor in the lives of the needy, but those who gather at a Bible study for the homeless in Virginia say it helps sustain them.

Berkeley’s Toughened Stance: The progressive stronghold in California plans to target large homeless encampments, relying on a Supreme Court decision handed down by a conservative majority.

In a 2008 bankruptcy filing, she wrote that she had not been working “due to illness.” After her father, William Kawam, died in 2009, she posted on a tribute page that he was the best father a daughter could have had, and that “I will always regret that it took me later in life to figure that out.”

Roxann Krammer, a Toms River resident, said that her late husband, George Krammer, had been Ms. Kawam’s romantic partner from about 2011 to 2014 and that they had lived together. The relationship, her husband had told her, had been chaotic.

The police gave an address for Ms. Kawam in Toms River, a small, gray one-story home that had been owned by the victim’s mother in a sprawling retirement community. A neighbor said that until the house was sold in 2024, she would see an older woman and someone Ms. Kawam’s age coming and going.

The older woman seemed to be taking care of the younger woman, who appeared disabled, and would lead her by the hand, said the neighbor, Valerie Waskiewicz.

“I had the impression that the older woman had her hands full taking care of the younger woman,” she said.

The current owner of the home, Olga Corpion, said she had never met Ms. Kawam or her mother, but that in May, shortly after she moved in, a stranger came to her door.

“She said ‘I’m Debrina, I want to see my mother,’” Ms. Corpion recalled. Ms. Corpion said it seemed odd that someone would not know that her mother had moved and Ms. Corpion said that Ms. Kawam seemed troubled. She said she offered to call Ms. Kawam with information about her mother, but Ms. Kawam told her she had no phone and quickly left.

Ms. Kawam was in New York City as early as April 28, when the police issued her a summons in Midtown Manhattan for drinking on a public sidewalk, according to city records. She was scheduled to appear in June, but did not show up. Her social service records show that she stayed at a women’s shelter in the Bronx from Nov. 30 to Dec. 2.

On Dec. 22, around 7:30 a.m., Ms. Kawam was sitting motionless on a subway train, apparently asleep, when Mr. Zapeta-Calil walked up, took out a lighter and set her on fire, according to prosecutors and the police. He then stepped out of the train and sat on a bench on the subway platform, staring as the smoke and flames overwhelmed Ms. Kawam, the police said.

Then, video of the incident shows a man who appears to be Mr. Zapeta-Calil rising and approaching Ms. Kawam. Instead of trying to douse the blaze, he waves a shirt at her, appearing to fan the flames. At least one police officer can be seen walking by her as people on the platform scream.

Officers who came to the scene did not appear to focus on Mr. Zapeta-Calil sitting on the bench as they tended to Ms. Kawam. But their body cameras had captured him and the clothes he wore: a gray, hooded sweatshirt; a wool hat; tan boots; and paint-splattered pants.

The Police Department released the photos publicly and soon after, three teenagers called 911. They said they had recognized Mr. Zapeta-Calil from the photos and that he was aboard another train in Brooklyn. The police ordered the train stopped and arrested him.

The authorities do not believe Ms. Kawam and Mr. Zapeta-Calil knew each other. She was already on the train when he boarded it in Queens, and they both rode to the end of the line in Coney Island, the official added, according to a law enforcement official who spoke on condition of anonymity. People often sleep on subway trains in cold weather; the outside temperature on the morning Ms. Kawam was killed was 16 degrees.

Mr. Zapeta-Calil is an undocumented immigrant from Guatemala who was deported in 2018 only to illegally return to the United States, according to federal immigration officials.

The suspect had been living for the past couple of months at a shelter in Brooklyn for men with drug and alcohol problems, according to the police and residents of the shelter. A grand jury indicted him last week on first-degree murder, second-degree murder and arson charges.

After Mr. Zapeta-Calil’s arrest, federal officials issued two immigration detainers, according to Jeffrey Carter, a spokesman for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Detainers are requests to the police and the city Department of Correction that they notify the federal agency before Mr. Zapeta-Calil’s court case is done and is released from jail.

City sanctuary laws prevent city agencies from sharing immigration information about defendants with federal officials, including when they will be released from police custody or from jail. However, the laws let the agencies tell ICE about noncitizens who have been convicted of any of 177 serious offenses, including rape and felony assault.

Susan C. Beachy contributed research. Shayla Colon reported from Toms River, N.J.

Chelsia Rose Marcius is a criminal justice reporter for The Times, covering the New York Police Department. More about Chelsia Rose Marcius

Andy Newman writes about New Yorkers facing difficult situations, including homelessness, poverty and mental illness. He has been a journalist for more than three decades. More about Andy Newman

Shayla Colon is a reporter covering New York City and a member of the 2024-25 Times Fellowship class, a program for journalists early in their careers. More about Shayla Colon

[thepromisesatsundown]

BELIEF | WENCLAIR

Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Description: When Enid's struggles with the aftermath of that night, all she needs is for someone to believe in her. Luckily, if there's one person Wednesday Addams could believe in, it's Enid Sinclair.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Crying, Soft Wednesday Addams (for Enid only), A bit of Canon-Divergence, Healing, References to PTSD

WC: 2.6k

A/N: Uh hi so this is the first oneshot I'm posting and bare with me, it is far from perfect haha I pumped it out really late at night but wanted to get something out there at least. I'm truly just going through as many random prompts I can find and writing oneshots based on them- if anyone sees this and has requests please send them my way. Anyway, enjoy!

Nevermore Academy bustled with a manufactured merriment that Wednesday Addams found entirely too fraudulent. Garlands in a shade of green that nature had never intended dripped from every railing, fairy lights winked with seizure-inducing frequency, and an enormous pine tree hulked in the corner of the common room like a many-armed monster playing dress-up.

The new principal, a man whose name Wednesday had forgotten as soon as she’d heard it, had decreed that festivities would continue until the very eve of winter break. Something about “breathing life back into Nevermore.” Wednesday thought the only thing Nevermore needed breathing into was sense.

Amidst the aggressive cheer, a lone figure caught Wednesday’s eyes. Enid Sinclair, lifelessly sorted through a box of baubles. When a strand of lights tumbled from the mantelpiece with a shatter of glass, Enid flinched, her entire body constricting inward.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. Enid’s enthusiasm for all things bright and jolly was constant, a northern star in Wednesday’s sky of black. To see her so dimmed, so diminished, sparked an unfamiliar ache in Wednesday’s chest. She could still see the gouges in the wall from that night, could still hear Enid’s howls of pain echoing through the woods.

Belief. Such a simple word for such a complex thing. Enid had believed in the fundamental goodness of people, in the magic of the holidays, in the power of a well-timed hug. And in one blood-soaked night, those beliefs had been shaken to their core.

Wednesday watched as Enid attempted to hang a glass reindeer on the tree, her hands trembling. The reindeer slipped, tumbling end over end before shattering on the floor. Enid stared at the glittery shards, eyes wide.

Without a conscious thought, Wednesday found herself moving toward the werewolf. She didn’t know what she would say, what she could possibly offer in the face of such quiet devastation. But she knew, with a certainty that surprised her, that she had to try.

Because in a world where monsters lurked in friendly faces, where the line between good and evil blurred like ink in the rain, belief was a fragile thing. And Wednesday realized, with a jolt that felt suspiciously like the ghost of a feeling, that Enid’s belief was something worth protecting.

Wednesday was already halfway across the room when the crack of a party popper rang through the air. It sounded like a gunshot, like the snap of bone, like a mirror shattering. Enid, who had been reaching for another ornament, froze. Her hand hung suspended, nails curled into claws.

For a moment, the world stopped. Enid shuddered. A full-body shiver that seemed to start at her toes and work its way up, leaving her shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, each one a serrated knife to Wednesday’s ears.

The common room fell silent too. Conversations died mid-word, laughter cut off like a guillotined head. Every eye turned to Enid, who stood in the center of it all.

Wednesday saw the exact moment the attention became too much. Saw the way Enid’s eyes darted wildly, searching for an escape. Saw the tremble in her lip, the heave of her chest. And then, like a startled deer, Enid bolted.

She moved with a speed that rivaled her wolf form. A speed born of desperation and fear. She was out the door before anyone could so much as draw a breath, leaving only a streak of blonde hair and the lingering scent of cinnamon in her wake.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pause to consider the implications of what she was about to do. She simply moved, her feet carrying her after Enid as if they had a mind of their own. Behind her, the common room erupted into a hive of buzzing speculation, but Wednesday paid it no mind. Her focus had narrowed to a single point, a single purpose. 

Find Enid. Help Enid. Protect Enid.

As she ran, Wednesday’s mind spun, gears turning in unfamiliar patterns. Enid was sunshine personified, a beacon of unwavering optimism in a sea of teenage angst. To see her so shattered, so utterly undone… it stirred something in Wednesday. Something fierce and primal, something that snarled at the thought of Enid in pain.

Memories flashed through her mind. Enid, face matted with blood, running towards her despite the pain. Enid, her voice hoarse from exertion, insisting she was fine even as her body was torn in pieces. Enid, always Enid, putting on a brave front for the world while she crumbled inside.

Not this time, Wednesday vowed. This time, she would be the strong one. This time, she would be the believer.

She just had to find Enid first.

Her pace never slowed as she continued through the halls. She checked all the usual spots—their shared room, the greenhouse, the hidden alcove behind the staircase where Enid sometimes went to think. But each place was empty. Devoid of the warmth and light that seemed to follow the wolf wherever she went.

Frustration mounted in Wednesday’s chest. Where could she be? Where would Enid go when the world became too much, when the memories nipped at her heels like hungry wolves? And then, it hit her. A flash of insight that stole her breath. The library. Of course. Where else would someone go to hide from their own story?

Wednesday changed course, her strides lengthening, her pace quickening. The library was an oft-overlooked part of Nevermore, a labyrinth of shelves. It was the perfect place to get lost, to disappear into the stacks and let the world fade away.

The minute she burst through the door, Wednesday’s voice was a knife cutting through the gloom. “Enid?”

Silence. Then, a sniffle. A hitched breath. A muffled sob.

Wednesday followed the sound, weaving through the aisles. She turned a corner and there Enid sat, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her arms. She was shaking, fine tremors running through her frame like electrical currents.

“Enid.” Wednesday’s voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, nothing more than a mere wisp in the silence.

Enid’s head snapped up, her eyes swollen and glassy. “Wednesday? What are you doing here?”

Wednesday crouched down, bringing herself to Enid’s level. “I could ask you the same question.”

A watery laugh bubbled up from Enid’s throat, but it sounded more like a sob. “Hiding, I guess. Pathetic, right?”

“No.” The word was out before Wednesday could stop it. “Not pathetic. Never pathetic.”

Enid blinked. It was rare for Wednesday to be so vehement, so unequivocal. Usually, her words were measured, carefully weighed and parceled out like precious gems. But now, at this moment, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing.

“I just…” Enid’s voice faltered, her gaze dropping to her hands. They were clenched in her lap, fingers intertwined so tightly the knuckles had turned white. “I can’t stop thinking about that night. About the hyde. About… about Tyler.”

His name hung in the air for a beat. It was a name that carried the scent of betrayal, of shattered trust and broken promises. A name that tasted like ashes on the tongue.

Enid swallowed. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Not as he was at the end, as he was before. When he was just Tyler. When he was… when I thought he was someone you could trust.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, fracturing like a pane of glass under too much pressure. Wednesday felt something twist inside her. A sharp, unfamiliar ache. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite name, but it burned like poison.

“I trusted him,” Enid whispered. A confession. A secret shame pulled from the depths of her soul. “I trusted him, and he… he…”

She couldn’t finish it. The sentence lodged in her throat, choking her, strangling her. Enid’s shoulders began to shake, more tremors that quickly escalated into full-body shudders.

“I can still feel it,” she gasped out. “The hyde. Its claws on my skin, its teeth. I can still hear the sound it made when it… when Tyler…”

Another shudder ripped through her, so violent it seemed to shake the very air. It was as if the memory itself was a physical thing, a malevolent presence that sunk its own claws into Enid’s very being.

Wednesday felt a surge of something hot and fierce burn in her chest. That same protective instinct, stronger this time. She wanted to reach out, to gather Enid into her arms and hold her until the shaking stopped. She wanted to hunt down every last one of Enid’s demons and banish them to the darkest pits of hell.

But she didn’t know how. Comfort, empathy, these were foreign lands to Wednesday. Uncharted territories with no map to guide her. All she had was the compass of her own heart, spinning wildly.

So, she did the only thing she could think of. She reached out, slowly, tentatively, and placed her hand on Enid’s knee. It was a small gesture, a tiny point of contact. Buti t was a start.

“Enid,” she said, ever so softly. “You’re safe now. I swear it. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Enid’s eyes finally met Wednesday’s. There was a vulnerability there, a look she’d never seen on the girl’s face before. A look that spoke of sleepless nights and unspoken fears.

“I want to believe that,” Enid whispered, voice trembling. “I want to believe it so badly. But every time I close my eyes…”

She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish. Wednesday could see it in the shadows under her eyes, in the pallor of her skin. The nightmares, the memories, they were eating away at Enid, stealing her sleep and her peace.

Wednesday’s heart clenched. She felt lost. These sorts of emotional situations were Enid’s strengths, not hers. But for Enid, she would try. She would reach into the depths of her own soul and find a way to be the rock Enid needed.

“Tell me about them,” she said, and it wasn’t a demand, but an invitation. “The nightmares. Perhaps… Perhaps talking about them will help.”

Enid hesitated, her lower lip caught between her teeth. For a moment, Wednesday thought she might refuse, might pull away and retreat back into herself. But then, with a shaky sigh, Enid began to speak.

“It’s always the same,” she said, lowering her gaze back down. “I’m rushing back into the woods, trying to find you. But the hyde… Tyler… he’s there. He’s coming for you, and I can’t transform. I can’t move. I can’t run. I can’t do anything but watch as he… as it…”

A sob wrenched itself from Enid’s throat, and Wednesday’s hand tightened on the werewolf’s knee.

“Sometimes I wake up nearly screaming,” Enid continued, the words tumbling out now, as if a dam had burst inside her. “Sometimes I don’t sleep at all. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, afraid to close my eyes.”

Wednesday’s heart ached harder. She knew what it was like to be haunted by the past, to have ghosts that refused to be laid to rest. But she’d always faced her demons alone, armed with nothing but her own stubbornness and wit.

Yet Enid… Enid was different. She was sunlight and laughter, warm hugs and bright smiles. She wasn’t meant for the shadows, for the cold embrace of fear.

“I’m sorry,” Wednesday said abruptly, though it felt inadequate, too small to encompass the depth of what she was feeling. “I’m sorry you must bear this burden. But you are not alone, Enid. I am here. Right here.”

Enid drew her eyes back up to Wednesday. “I know,” she sighed. “I know you are. And I… I don’t know what I’d do without you, Wednesday.”

The words hit Wednesday like a physical blow. She’d never been anyone’s anchor, anyone’s safe harbor in a storm. She’d never been needed like this, never been trusted with something so precious, so fragile.

It terrified her. It exhilarated her. It made her want to be better, to be stronger, to be everything Enid needed her to be.

Without thinking, Wednesday opened her arms. And for a moment, Enid hesitated, eyes wide and uncertain. But, with a sob that sounded like a release, Enid lunged forward. Crashing into Wednesday’s embrace, the wolf buried her face into the crook of her raven’s neck.

The Addams closed her arms around Enid, pulling her close. She could feel the girl shaking, could feel the hot splash of tears against her skin. But she didn’t pull away. She didn’t let go. She held her close, held her tight, as if she could physically hold Enid together, could keep all her broken pieces from flying away.

And slowly, Wednesday’s arms tightened around Enid. It was a strange sensation, holding someone like this. Wednesday was used to keeping people at a distance, both physically and emotionally. Touch, for her, had always been associated with pain or discomfort.

But holding Enid… it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel intrusive or uncomfortable. It felt… right. Like a piece of puzzle slotting into place, like a chord resolving after al ong, tense progression.

She could feel the rapid beat of Enid’s heart, the way her chest heaved with each shuddering sob. It was overwhelming, this closeness. It was scary and beautiful all at once. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, staring down into an unknown abyss.

But not once did she pull away. Not once did she let go. Instead, she lifted one hand and began to rub slow, smoothing circles on Enid’s back.

“Shh,” she murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

The words felt strange coming out of her mouth. Unfamiliar. Clumsy. Wednesday wasn’t used to offering comfort, nor being gentle. Her tone was nothing short of sharp and cutting. But now… now she needed to be soft. Now she needed to be the balm to Enid’s wounds.

Enid’s sobs began to gradually quieten, her shaking beginning to still. She seemed to melt into Wednesday’s embrace. It was as if all the tension, all the fear and pain, was draining out of her, leaving her empty and exhausted.

Wednesday held her through it. She didn’t speak, didn’t offer any more platitudes or reassurances. She simply held on. Even as time began to stretch and warp and seconds bled into minutes.

But finally, after what could have been a lifetime or a heartbeat, Enid stirred. She lifted her head from Wednesday’s shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. But there was something else in her gaze now, a flicker of something that looked like hope.

“Thank you,” her voice was hoarse and raw as she whispered. “For… for everything. For being here. For not… not letting me be alone.”

Wednesday’s heart swelled. It was a feeling she couldn’t categorize nor even identify, but made her feel light, made her feel as if she could take on the world and win.

“You are far from alone,” she said firmly. “You shall never be alone, Enid. Not for as long as I am alive and breathing.”

Enid’s lips trembled, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. But these tears were different. These were tears of relief, of gratitude, of something that might have been love.

“I know,” she said, and there was a new strength in her voice. A new steadiness. “I know that now.”

And it was in that very moment, with Enid in her arms and the scent of old books in her nose, Wednesday realized something. Something vast and horrifyingly wonderful, something that felt quite like the first flicker of belief.

Enid, she knew, wasn’t just something to protect. She was something to fight for. Something to believe in.

And Wednesday… Well, Wednesday was ready to believe.

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

the one where Kon's soulmark isn't fake

feral Kon and liger pups

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this

you're a real Katch, girl

Tim + clonecest

snippet from “the one where Kon's soulmark isn't fake”:

Anyway, then Steel catches them, so that's pretty helpful. 

"Thanks, man," Superboy manages past the painful kryptonite-induced weakness and nausea, and Steel sets them both down all nice and neat on the sidewalk. 

"Any time, kid," he says as he breaks the bolted-in kryptonite off Lois Lane's chest with an armored hand, then tears off into the sky with it, presumably to deal with a certain delusional idiot. Superboy figures he'll leave him to it and just make sure the pretty lady is okay, given the active involvement of kryptonite in the whole situation. 

He looks at Lois Lane and opens his mouth to ask if she's alright, and she shrugs out of the broken straps that are all that's left of the bomb harness now that Steel's gotten at it. 

The front of her blouse is torn right over her heart, and Superboy can see the bright blue swirl of her soulmark through the damage. 

It really pops, he thinks distantly. 

"You're staring, kid," Lois Lane says dubiously, putting a hand over her exposed mark, and Superboy jolts in mortification. 

"Sorry!" he blurts, looking away quick. Well–now he knows who's on the other end of Superman's soulmark, he guesses. And it's not like it's a surprise who it is. A lot of people have suspected that Lois Lane and Superman are soulmates, after all, especially since he died and everyone found out he definitely had one. 

Though the confirmation of that fact does kinda make Superboy wonder what's going on with Clark Kent, now. He thought he and Lois Lane were engaged or something. Or like–maybe they're married by now? He doesn't actually know. He doesn't, like, make a habit of keeping up on the relationship status of random Daily Planet reporters. 

Although he guesses Lois Lane doesn't count as "random", considering. 

"Sorry," he mutters again. "I won't, like–tell. Obviously. I mean it's not–like, obviously you'd be Superman's soulmate but I won't actually–" 

"It's not Superman," Lois Lane says shortly, still covering her chest kind of . . . protectively, maybe? And Superboy . . . frowns. 

"What?" he says.