#also keeping the weird energy going would have been nice but whatever

[sandgraab]

look I don’t really think you people whining about third party voters is going to help anything. even if you unrealistically gave kamala every third party vote she still loses handily. like sure maybe it’s a factor. maybe Gaza protest votes had an affect. maybe her being a woman. maybe her being black. but when you get into the meat of it I think two things are the biggest factors: the first is that dems have completely abandoned the base that bernie helped cultivate, and they have expectedly fled, some (latinos) for the other side and some just didn’t seem to vote.

the second, and what I think is the main thing, is that the economy sucks and Americans are selfish. sorry. you can pull out your little graph and condescendingly explain to joey bob on the street that WELL AXSHUALLY IF U LOOK HERE… but if you ask the average person they will tell you that everything is too expensive. and kamala, if nothing else, assured voters that she would continue whatever it is joe biden has been doing. to the informed that could mean genocide, or trying to cancel student loans. but to the average American that means “mah groceries are still gonna be 400 bux a week.” so idk. maybe an actual leftwing platform instead Joe Biden 2 would have gotten us somewhere. maybe not. i really don’t know. but I do know a large portion of the electorate are selfish and all THEY know is that 4 years ago everything was cheaper.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[steddielations]

nsfw text, bdsm, sub eddie

Eddie’s always the more dominant one running the show with his hookups. It’s nice but it’s been so long since someone put him down, cleared his mind of everything except pleasing and being pleased.

He doesn’t know why he complains about it to Steve, who’s as golden vanilla as they come, who only offers a snort as he passes the joint back, “Eddie Munson can’t find someone who wants to slap him around? I can’t believe it.”

Eddie takes a disgruntled puff as Steve suggests he looks through their old high school yearbook, call up some of those guys that would gladly take a swing at him.

Eddie tries to tell him it’s not just about getting slapped around, it’s the whole mentality of it. The weed must be getting to his head, he can’t find the right words, but Eddie being Eddie, nerdy about anything that piques his interest, from dnd to submission, he’s got it all written down in his journal.

He’s not even all that high, doesn’t know why he willingly hands it over to Steve beside him on the couch, or why his neck prickles with heat even though few things truly embarrass him, or why it feels kinda good.

Steve almost teases him again but Eddie already looks strangely timid about showing him. It’s Eddie, so writing a guide for his weird sex is a very Eddie thing, and maybe Steve’s a little endeared by it, whatever. So he doesn’t joke, he blinks the glaze from his eyes and scans the page.

He doesn’t know a ton about this stuff, nothing beyond a couple girls asking him to spank them a little or rest a hand on their throat, it gave him a rush too but he tried not to think too hard about why. He expects to see things like that in Eddie’s journal and yeah there’s some, but also, Eddie’s written out why he wants what he wants.

His mind is loud. That riot of energy that surrounds Eddie, it’s hectic inside too, buzzing next to Steve even now. Almost a magnetic pull, sometimes Steve gives in, touches Eddie’s shoulder or his knee, just to feel his static, how it flutters and then calms under his hand. To be settled, Eddie’s journal says, to let his mind float, to feel nothing but intensely good, to trust someone else to think for him.

Steve’s seen Eddie parading around, the way he basks in any kind of attention and clearly enjoys having his way, but Steve can see the thrill of having that taken away from him. To be put down, the journal says, made to feel small with words, some mean and some sweet, with hands, both rough and soft. Eddie wants to be held down and fucked, overwhelmed to tears and praised for taking it, to be told he’s a good boy despite himself.

Steve’s face heats, doesn’t know why he’s thinking about what it’s like to make Eddie Munson feel small, to turn all his big fancy words to mush in that loud mouth that drives Steve crazy sometimes, to be the one this absolute hell of a boy wants to be good for.

Eddie suddenly reaches out, “Okay I think that’s—”

“Wait, I wasn’t done,” Steve holds onto the journal, but doesn’t keep reading, seeing how Eddie looks more flustered than Steve’s ever seen him.

“Harrington, this is getting kinda humiliating, man.”

Steve smirks before he can stop himself. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, sinking back against the couch. His face flushes slightly red in a way that puts a strange flutter in Steve’s stomach, seeing how he affected Eddie like that. His hand lands on Eddie’s thigh before he realizes he’s reaching out, feeling how he tenses then relaxes under the touch, looking as silently shocked as Steve feels.

“Not judging, Eddie, I swear. Just let me finish reading, okay?”

Eddie scoffs a nervous laugh, fidgeting and covering his mouth as he nods.

Steve goes back to the journal and his hand tightens just a bit when he sees what’s there. Eddie mutters something, biting down on his knuckles but he doesn’t pull away. It all makes Steve‘s palm heat up against his thigh, reading the next thing Eddie wants.

To be spanked, just hard enough, it’s more about the shame of the sting, the rush that comes from being a little helpless, the release that comes when his body accepts it all as pleasure. Steve pictures it, Eddie Munson, who treats life like a stage only he was meant to walk on, bent over and taking each hit. The way he’d writhe and bask in the humiliation, finally getting treated like the little star of the freakshow he loves to be.

The flutter in Steve’s stomach twists tight and hot because in his weed-hazy mind, it’s his lap that Eddie is lying across, it’s his palm stinging and making Eddie whimper, it’s him that Eddie’s looking up at with watery eyes begging to be ruined.

Steve swallows thickly when he comes to the next thing. The handcuffs. He’s always been transfixed by Eddie’s hands, how nice they look in all his bulky silver rings and chain bracelets.

He wonders if Eddie would look even better in handcuffs.

His eyes wander over to Eddie’s hands again, where he still happens to have two fingers bitten between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes widened at Steve. It’s a sight Steve doesn’t have time to really revel in how it makes him feel because Eddie darts forward, snatching the journal.

“Alright okay, I think you get it, the freak is into freaky shit, big surprise.”

Steve drags a hand through his hair, plays it cool even though he’s hot all over for some reason. “Yeah, you’re pretty freaky, but it doesn’t seem like much you’re asking for. I mean, nothing I couldn’t see myself doing.”

And Steve didn’t mean it like that, did he? Eddie seems to think so, he starts floundering to put the journal away, nervously laughing and muttering again. Steve watches him, trying to figure out why he likes seeing Eddie so flustered, then Eddie suddenly stops.

His eyes flick down to Steve’s lap and—

Oh.

“Steve… why do you have a boner right now?”

[chocoqtelle]

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝﹕𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 ♡

you may be called to multiple piles, that's perfectly fine ! remember that not every message may resonate. take what resonates and leave the rest. tarot is not completely certain and things may change. do not use tarot as a replacement for professional advice. divider credit to @sister-lucifer

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵ ﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄

okayyyy 🤭 seems like someone's self focused right now. you're dodging these desperate mfs and focusing on your finances. you oughta give yourself more credit for that at least. choosing attention from yourself over attention from others is rough. and it's clearly paying off because you are GLOWING. if you've been getting more attention that's why. you're looking better than ever right now. you don't need anyone to take care of you... but if you want that then there's plenty of options. you don't even have to put effort in. it's all self concept. as long as you acknowledge how perfect you are and what you deserve, you'll get exactly that. you've been working hard, clearing out old patterns, all that. so why would you be shocked that things are going well/going to go well? you deserve that! you worked your ass off to get to this point and you act like you didn't sometimes. whatever help you may have got wasn't near as much as you put into yourself. reap your rewards with no shame. this is your well deserved prize.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎

"i don't know if i want her or her" energy. you got options for just about everything. you're in that empress mode (regardless of gender dw.) you're pouring into your creative talents and you're doing great. keep expressing yourself, don't worry about what's weird! it's fun! that's what matters. you could have some annoying exes/haters and honestly just take it as an ego boost. they're obsessed with you for a reason. but isn't everyone? you don't have to worry about anyone. grabbing for scraps of stardust when you're the star is the life they chose. you, however, have an unlimited source and you should enjoy it. if you're thinking of going bigger with your creative talents/career. you definitely should. you have the talent whether you wanna admit it or not. "what if I fail?" then you can try again or move on. your life won't be over. what if you win? believe in yourself more. believe you'll make it regardless of what happens. if you're worried about money, let it go. god/the universe/spirit guides/ancestors/whatever applies will take care of it. just trust things will work and opportunities will reach you soon. you could have that perfect duality too is what I'm hearing. geek girl vibes (it's on Netflix still, I think.)

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

the body is BODYINGGGGG. if you don't know that, you must be blind. and don't start talking about some "but hip dips 😖 but tummy but-" nobody in real life cares about that. if it's your body, it's nice and loveable by default. you're like the "airport girl" phenomenon where people see the prettiest person ever at a random place then never see them again and they're just haunted by their beauty. you're probably resting right now but make sure you're not rotting. it's good to still take care of yourself. I don't know if you're insecure or not, but if you are I will personally come through the screen and yell at you (affectionately.) because you are so gorgeous. pinterest level pretty. moodboard pretty. poetry pretty. you could have people writing like "her bosoms jiggled gracefully in the wind like hanging grapes." 😭 being pretty is one thing but being kindhearted on top is just extra. sweet and pretty??? fine you win 😒 save some beauty for the rest of us. you could also be an Aphrodite devotee or benefit from reaching out to her :)

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

[cinnamonest]

Thinking about terrible terrible boys who use Darling’s social anxiety against themselves

Kaveh who keeps you home because the world is just far too mean, just look at his roommate if you need any reminder. It’s putting himself out there that resulted in his debt, it’s the outside that caused you hurt don’t ever forget. It’s fine, he’ll lavish you enough to fill all you need, you really don’t need any other contact than himself!… and the forced proximity of Alhaitham grrr.

Ayato who keeps bringing you in important social events just to see you cling to him. He doesn’t teach you any etiquette, so you never know what’s socially unacceptable. You stand so close to him, trembling, your voice barely louder than a whisper. It serves as a reminder, see how bad the world is? All of them are vile people. If you run away, who’s to say you won’t end up with someone worse than him? (It’s terrible, how you keep waking these sadistic urges in him. He’s a good man with lots of self restraint but still a man.)

Wriothesley who got you locked up in his office. You complain about boredom, about his behaviour, but he only swat your worries away. He’s not worried about you ever running off, this is an underground prison. Criminals are the only residents, and god knows how many would have enough self control to keep their hands off if he’s not with you. Besides you’ve been here for so long, you have no place on the surface anymore. What would you do, go cry to Neuvillette? Pfff yeah, right. Try saying hello to Clorinde without trembling first.

Yes yes I am FOR this idea, also consider: Kaeya is the top tier candidate for it. He’s already in the top tier of Manipulative Bastardry, but it gets so much worse if he finds a weakness to exploit — and he’s great at sensing those.

He doesn’t mind that you’re introverted. However, he doesn’t just use the situations as opportunities to give you affirmation as a means of comforting you and coaxing you into bonding with him, no, he stoops so much lower than that. Outright taking advantage of it for his own benefit, ensuring he can use every tactic at his disposal to get whatever he wants... except "whatever he wants" actually just tends to be one consistent thing.

In the early stages, where he can pretend he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to feign ignorance to how much it would exhaust you, he makes sure to plan long public outings, watching as your energy quickly drains until you can’t bear another second in the public atmosphere and all but beg him to return home.

This gives him the opportunity to act disappointed (when in reality, he’s overjoyed it’s playing out exactly as planned) — aw, and here he had so many more things he wanted to show you before the night was over, but no worries, it’s fine… no no, it’s fine, really… and now that you’re all nice and feeling guilty, well, that will just make it much easier to coax you into giving him something to compensate for the disappointment you’ve caused once you’re behind closed doors. Maybe you’ll even volunteer it yourself.

But even later on, once he can no longer put on an act of not knowing how easily drained you are, he can still use it against you. Don’t worry, he knows you’re shy and easily tired out, you two can just stay at home tonight… besides, there’s plenty of fun things you can do alone at home, right…? Surely you’ll be able to think of something.

He, however, stoops even lower still, because he’s also willing to exploit your paranoias and insecurities, even if it means hurting you a bit. Part of the reason why you’re so socially withdrawn, he learns, is that you’re afraid of how others perceive you — I’m just annoying them, they all secretly hate me, you say, everyone thinks I’m weird…

And he… doesn’t rush to correct you or anything. Just shrugs.

Ah, who cares what they think? You already have someone who appreciates you as you are, you know.

Not denying it. If anything, it’s a subtle confirmation… he may even throw in a blatant —

Well, sure, they might feel that way, but I don’t. That’s good enough, isn't it? What do you need their attention for...?

— to really drive the point home, and throw in a bit of accusation and guilt for good measure. He likes hearing you immediately panic and stumble over your words as you reassure him that you don't need anyone else... it's adorable, and the ego boost is euphoric.

Honestly, you’re too gullible for your own good, so precious, so cute in how you fall for it so perfectly, effortless on his part. You don’t even hide your reaction in your expression, so transparent and vulnerable, the way your eyes widen with shock and you hang your head and your eyes water, giving him the perfectly opportunity to comfort you and hold you close and assure you it’s okay, they don’t matter, screw them anyway, and so on.

You’re so sweet, so pure. So much so that you almost, almost actually make him feel bad about it. How impressive.

[blacklegsanjiii]

•°♤°• Taking a break from ASL x Sanji. Now it's time for Zosan 😀. In this AU, set in the Canon, what would happen if Zoro swords has spirits? I know that you told me you read Kishi Kaisei by coffeeblues but I wanted YOUR opinion and hcs on this.

Okay, I've sat on this SINCE APRIL trying to figure out what I wanted to do and just banging my head into the desk at work because imagine Sanji meeting Zoro and taking care of Wado on the way to Cocoyashi with extreme love and care for this fucking mossheaded dumbass he met like two hours ago. He feels connected to the sword in some weird way and every once in a while, he feels like someone is watching him when no one, not even Luffy, is. Sometimes he'll catch something in the corner of his eye usually if he turns to look. Sure, Zoro talks to the sword, but he's kind of weird, nothing new, the whole crew is. Then in Loguetown Zoro gets Kitetsu and Yubashiri, talking them too when he cleans and cares for them. It feels like there's more people watching the cook after that and Sanji feels like he's going insane.

Until after Thriller Bark when he brings Zoro back to the crew with a new sword, Yubashiri's hilt gone, and just Zoro's blood soaking both of them. After he cleans himself up and takes care of feeding people he sits alone and cleans the swords and there's suddenly a woman in front of him as he works on Wado. She's not fully there and looking at Sanji curiously and Sanji stumbles out a surprised greeting and apologizes because he's covered in oil on his hands but he can get her something to eat but she smiles and puts a hand on his cheek before disappearing. Sanji has to sit there for a minute trying to figure out what the fuck that was before finishing with Wado and working on Kitetsu he sternly tells to settle the fuck down, Zoro's alive, because the energy coming off the sword is not fun for the cook. Sanji's not dumb, he's been a pirate long enough to know swords can carry carry the souls of the past far into the future, he served Mihawk all the time. If there's not something to make his blades cursed or whatever then Sanji is fucking crazy. Kitetsu, despite being a little shit, does respect Sanji enough to not hurt him when he cleans it. Sanji is always so nice, gentle and powerful which shocks Kitetsu and Shusui but Wado likes Sanji and their master respects him, a good match.

Zoro is confused when he comes to because his swords are singing Sanji, the idiot cook, their praises for caring for them in his absence. Wado especially enjoyed their time together outside of sparring which Kitetsu agrees with and Shusui says the man was nice, knew how to clean a sword well and holds them well. Zoro doesn't believe a word they say until like a year into his stay on Kuriagana when Mihawk points out his swords seem...lacking. As if their longing for something. Perona asks if it's the cook Zoro constantly talks about and Zoro looks at his swords and feels them grinning like fucking assholes at him. Mihawk simply hums something to himself about telling Zeff, ignoring the questioning from Perona and Zoro who is also having a lot of feelings.

When the crew comes back together and Zoro and Sanji finally get to spar again Zoro can feel his swords basically sing with how pleased they are to see the cook. He's not jealous just confused and Sanji keeps glancing at his swords too so maybe it's a possibility that his swords like the cook, they're dumb for it. He's annoying and prissy, sure he matches Zoro still, but only just barely! Zoro will surpass him soon and it'll be all over for the cook. It's still weird the cook is looking at them though because it's not like he can see or hear them like Zoro can. That'd be ridiculous, preposterous, unheard of. Zoro doesn't fucking believe it when they whine when they get separated again after Dressrosa. Even Law looks amused.

"Are they misbehaving?" Law asks with a grin like the cleaver Sanji uses to butcher seakings.

"Just keep saying dumb shit." Zoro mutters.

"Do they miss Blackleg-ya? Considering your history it would make sense." Law asks.

"How would you know?" Zoro growls.

"It's not exactly easy to dismiss how often you two spend together, swords are an extension of their master's after all." Law shrugs as he adjusts Kikoku. Zoro grumbles to himself as Wado whispers to him that Zoro misses him too and he should have heard how worried the cook has been for him. Zoro tells them to shut the fuck up in his head making them laugh. He listens to them mourn again when he finds out Sanji left the crew on Zou. When Luffy says he's going to bring the cook back Zoro feels a tension leave he didn't know he was carrying. On Wano though the cook keeps avoiding him or they're too busy to talk or Zoro's training with Enma after trading Shusui for it, he thanked Shusui of course but Enma is a demon in a sword and Shusui belongs in Wano, in their home. Then Zoro promises to kill Sanji and Wado is screaming that they don't want to, that he can't make them! Enma says they'll do it willingly and their voice is filled with glee as Kitetsu screams in fury and anguish.

It's not until after the raid, after the parties have calmed down and Zoro and his swords are calmed down from having to possibly kill the cook and crawling out of hell, still he doesn't ask Sanji about it. He and the cook are sitting together and Hiyori is still trying to fret over Zoro and Wado and Kitetsu aren't exactly pleased with the woman. Sanji keeps stealing glances at them and Zoro is growing agitated with the looks from the cook and the voices of the swords calling for Sanji instead of the princess. Once she leaves Sanji doesn't stop the glances and Zoro is growing more and more annoyed.

"Spit it out, Cook." Zoro growls at him.

"Why do I hear them?" Sanji asks suddenly, slightly panicked.

"Why did you ask me to kill you?" Zoro asks back. "None of us are happy with you, I don't know why they want you or why you can hear them!" Sanji is staring at him with a crazed look that knocks some knots loose that have been tied in Zoro's gut since Zou. Sanji steps forward and Wado is basically screaming for the cook to hold her and Zoro gives a jerky nod to the cook who does take the most precious sword from him and holds it. Sanji sighs and apologizes to them all for what happened it's just between his birth family and his past he wasn't entirely sure he would come out of the fight like he was before and he needed the reassurance that Zoro would do what was needed. Kitetsu and Enma seem sorrowful they don't get to take the cook down and Sanji mutters they sound just like Zoro who punches him in the shoulder lightly and grumbles as Wado tells Sanji how worried they were for him and how much they care for him and yeah. Sanji is bright red.

Zoro moves to grab Wado but Sanji pulls the sword away and grabs Zoro's robes and pulls him up just barely to kiss him.

"At least Wado tells me how you feel." Sanji mumbles looking away as Zoro blushes.

"Traitor." Zoro grumbles as he pulls Sanji down on top of him and kisses him again.

[duchi-nesten]

Five names...and Steve.

It's Ecto-Implosion time!!!! This year I actually did writing nO WAY!

I got to work with the amazing @toadstool32! Their art is absolutely wonderful! Go check it out!!

Tiny's Art!

---

Summary:

Danny's parents weren't very fond of the ghostly pet living in his console... or 5 times Danny's virtual pet got on his parents' nerves, and 1 time it didn't.

Wordcount: 6744 || AO3

---

1.

A lot of things in the Fenton household were out of place. 

At this point it was just a given that the Fenton parents would leave some ectoplasmic samples on the kitchen counter or end up testing their newest invention on some poor piece of furniture. Danny was very used to random burn marks on the walls, trying not to trip over ripped carpet or dodging whatever food in their fridge came to life this time. (Though usually it was only the ecto-hot-dogs, who’d pretty much taken over their fridge, and tended to dominate any other sentient meal.) 

It’s also hard to forget that one time his parents somehow managed to make everything in the living room invisible. That was a fun afternoon.

The point was, weird stuff always happened in the Fenton household. That’s why Danny wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he stepped into the living room to find his old handheld console glowing green and floating right above the coffee table. 

The coffee table, which was covered in a bunch of papers and spilled ectoplasmic samples. That gave him all the information he needed. His parents must have been working on an invention while watching the tv again and his poor console had fallen victim to this week’s case of ectoplasmic infusion.

Danny took a few careful steps towards his floating game. The icy cold breath escaping his throat fogged up his vision for a second, before he caught sight of a smiling little… thing coming from the screen of his console.

He tilted his head slightly to the right in confusion and was amazed when the console attempted to imitate him by tilting the screen the exact same way.

It was cute in a way. Danny couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Suddenly he felt the ghostly presence leave the console to do a little round around him. The spirit’s green light was warm against his skin, before it snuck back into the game.

Danny laughed a little.

“Well, you seem nice,” he said, not expecting the ghost to answer. To his surprise the game landed gently in his hands as he got a soft chirp in response. The black pixels on the screen moved up and down in the shape of a little blob with two antennae.

“Man, you kinda remind me of an old tamagotchi. But like… actually alive.” Danny laughed again. Just for the bit, he pressed some buttons on the console to check his theory and there it was. He could actually feed and take care of the ghostly pet thing!

He gave it some virtual food, grinning as the little creature consumed the pixels on the screen. Its satisfaction could be felt with the growing energy surrounding the console.

“Maybe I should keep you,” Danny said, and the ghost came out of the game again to happily fly one loop around the boy.

That definitely seemed like an agreement.

Hopefully, this wouldn’t blow up in Danny’s face. He always wanted a puppy and this… this was close enough. As long as his parents didn’t find out about this, it should all be fine. Which was totally easy. His parents were extremely unaware when it came to things like this.

Of course, that was the moment his parents decided to come into the living room unannounced.

If Jack Fenton’s deafening yell of “GHOST!” could count as unannounced. 

“WHERE’S THE SPOOK?!” the man bellowed while bursting into the room, an ecto-gun ready to blast. He was followed by Danny’s mom, a beeping ghost detector and her own ecto-gun in each hand. 

Both of his parents paused at the sight of Danny. He was about to hide the possessed console behind his back, but before he could, the little spirit came out of it to… hiss at his parents. 

Danny noted how the ghost seemed to try shielding him from the guns before it got sucked back into the game after a few seconds. It couldn’t keep a physical form for too long. Interesting. 

He didn’t get to ponder on it more as he felt the game being ripped out of his hands. 

“Don’t worry Danny! We got this ghost!” his mother screamed, throwing the console to the ground.

“No ghost will slip into my house and try to attack my son!” his father added. Both of his parents pointed their weapons at the poor little ghost, ready to shoot it.

In a quick dash, Danny pushed between the two and jumped in front of them to shield the console with his body. “NO, WAIT!”

Full of confusion and not wanting to hurt their child, his parents lowered their guns slightly. 

“Danno, get out of the way. We need to get rid of this ghost.” 

“But! But! It’s in my game!” he tried. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll get it out of your game without destroying it,” his mother chimed in, putting a hand on his shoulder. She tried to gently move him out of the way, but he persisted.

“But it’s not IN my game!” Danny almost screamed, before trying to collect himself a bit and continuing in a quieter voice. “I think you made my game sentient, like the ecto-dogs.”

That made his parents lower their guns fully. 

“Hm. That’s interesting,” his mom said. It was clear she was calculating something in her head. Turning to his dad, they shared a similar look of fascination. “I mean the hot dogs were a biological matter. How is it possible to make a game sentient?”

“We should pick it apart and study it!” his dad answered, voice full of excitement.

“What?” Danny asked, dumbfounded. He couldn’t let them do this. Whatever the creature was, it seemed to be friendly and most important of all, sentient. The sudden thought about his parents dissecting a sentient being caused a shiver to go down his spine. “You didn’t do it to the ecto-dogs! You didn’t even get rid of them; they’re still living in our fridge!”

“They have proved themselves, Danno,” his dad said proudly. “They’re now a part of this family.”

“Unfortunately,” his mom muttered. If it was up to her, those ecto-dogs wouldn’t be here either. “This is more intricate though. I didn’t know ectoplasm could fuse with technology in such a way. If we can figure out how it happened, maybe we can use it to our advantage.”

“Make fancy guns!” his dad excitedly added.

“You can’t do that!” Danny yelled again. In a quick spin, he picked up the console from the floor, carefully showing it off. “Look at it. It’s like a little pet, you can’t hurt it!”

His mother was clearly about to argue, but that’s exactly when Jazz decided to enter the room. 

“What’s going on here?” she asked in confusion, eyes trailing from their parents, to Danny, then to the console now safely tucked in her brother's arms.

“Jazz, could you please explain to your brother that he can’t keep this ghostly thing as a pet?” their mom asked tiredly, covering her face with the palm of her hand. 

“What?” Jazz asked, even more confused now.

“Mom and Dad left their experiments on the coffee table again, and some of it was infused into my console, so now it’s possessed by a virtual pet thing.” Danny explained, showing the console off to Jazz who came closer as he spoke. The little ghost on the screen blinked at his sister before hissing at her. 

“Charming,” Jazz said unamused. She put her hands on her hips as she turned to address their parents. “It looks to me like whatever happened here is your fault. If you didn’t want this pet thing to exist you shouldn’t have left your highly toxic experiments laying around the family room.”

“But Jazzy-pants,” their dad started, however he was cut off by his sister. 

“No buts,” she said sternly. “Danny already got attached to this thing. If you take it away now, he’s gonna be so sad and that will definitely reflect badly on his relationship with you two.”

“So what? Are we supposed to let him keep this thing?” their mother asked. 

“Yes,” Jazz simply answered, giving their parents a look that clearly stated there was no more room for arguments. Their sour expressions didn’t disappear, but they sagged their shoulders in surrender. 

“Alright. But if it gives us even one reason to believe it’s evil, we are getting rid of it,” their mom stated sternly. She was definitely not happy about the entire situation.

“Compared to the ecto-dogs, this thing is gonna be a saint,” Danny muttered under his breath.

Jazz only rolled her eyes with a small smile before addressing him. “So, what are you gonna name it?” she asked.

“Oh, uh. I don’t know?” he shrugged in response. “Steve or something?”

“Steve?” Jazz questioned. 

“Steve?” their mother echoed.

“Come on, son. At least call it something cool. Like ecto-Steve.”

Everyone looked at his dad for a second with varying expressions of confusion.

“It’s just a placeholder name, I don’t know!” Danny defended. “I’ll come up with a better one eventually!”

Steve came out of the console and chirped happily at him.

“Awh, it is kind of cute. Why don’t you call it Chirp or something like that?” Jazz said, moving one finger in the direction of the ghost to touch him. She was immediately stopped, when ‘Steve’ turned to her and hissed angrily, making the girl move away quickly and putting her hands up. “Okay, okay, that’s a no I guess.” 

“Hah, he clearly only likes me and the names I give him,” Danny smirked watching Steve go back to his console with another chirp.

“Probably only because he can feel you’re one of his kind,” Jazz said unamused. Danny quickly elbowed her and looked pointedly to their parents, who were still standing right there.

“What do you mean one of his kind?” his mom questioned. “Danny’s not a gh-”

“Gamer,” Danny quickly cut in, prompting everyone to look at him in confusion. “I am a Gamer. The pet is a Game. We’re like… so alike,” he continued spilling nonsense in hopes that it would sound believable enough. 

His parents looked incredibly confused, but eventually started nodding their heads in thought. 

“I guess,” his mom said. She still didn’t look fully convinced, but decided to drop it.

Both Danny and Jazz let out a breath in relief. Steve only chirped from inside the console again. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna go now!” Danny said, quickly booking it out of the room with Steve in hand. As he scaled the stairs he could hear his dad whine about ‘still wanting to dissect that ghost’.

2.

So Danny knew that as long as he kept the pet out of trouble, it would be fine.

Of course, Steve had different plans.

Danny didn’t have a choice, but to bring Steve with him anywhere he went. Even though his parents begrudgingly agreed to let the ghost stay, he didn’t really trust them to not try something if he left Steve at home unattended and the poor thing couldn’t really defend itself. 

The only attack move Steve seemed to know was hissing. And he hissed at everyone and everything he considered a threat to Danny.

Danny was at the school showing off Steve to Sam and Tucker, who both loved the little guy, but hated the name Steve. Sam insisted that the pet’s name should be more androgynous as they didn’t know its gender, while Tucker kept suggesting some very bad “action-film-from-the-80s” kinda names.

That’s exactly when Danny’s ghost sense went off. He tried to leave Steve with his friends, but the pet kept hissing at them, so Danny had no choice, but to take the console with him.

Luckily for him, it only turned out to be the Box Ghost’s weekly storage room raiding time. 

His ghostly enemy was incredibly proud of himself when it turned out Steve was absolutely terrified of his presence. At least for the first 10 seconds before Boxy opened his mouth and started going on and on about bringing boxed up doom upon everyone.

The fight was going by fast as usual, with only a few hiccups due to Danny having to carry not only the Fenton thermos, but also Steve’s console in his jumpsuit pocket. It definitely made the fighting more uncomfortable, yet the Box Ghost was not enough of a threat to make it an actual issue.

Finally, after a few minutes, Danny managed to suck the ghost into the thermos. Cupping the cylinder, he sighed, still a bit annoyed from all the incessant yelling he had just listened to. He was about to leave the storage room, when one of the walls exploded and in came his parents. His father already giving him a second dose of incessant yelling.

“FREEZE GHOSTS!” his dad shouted, shooting out an anti-ecto net that missed its mark by a good 10 feet if not more.

Danny was about to ignore his parents and leave when Steve decided to attack. The little ghost came out of its console and let out a loud hiss in the direction of the two adults. Danny barely got the time to react, covering his pet friend from his parents’ view. 

If they ever saw Steve with Phantom, it would definitely be enough to call him evil and get rid of him.

Luckily Steve seemed to feel Danny’s distress and went back into the console. He stayed quietly in there, which left the two Fentons staring at the ghost boy in silence for a few seconds.

“Did you just… hiss at us?” his mom asked, confused. 

It would’ve been incredibly funny if Danny wasn’t so stressed in the moment. The witty teenage ghost boy just seemingly hissed at the ghost hunters. Hilarious.

In an attempt to save his reputation, he uttered a simple “No,” before hastily turning invisible and booking it out of there.

3. 

“OH, COME ON,” Danny whined as he put down the card he pulled out of Steve’s hand. Not a literal hand of course, since Steve was incorporeal and couldn’t hold anything belonging to the material world. 

It took him a while, but he managed to prop up Steve’s cards against some rocks they found in the park in a way that let the ghost see all of its options without Danny knowing what they were.

The only thing Steve had to do was flash a number on the console’s screen and Danny would pull out corresponding card counting from left to right. And this time it just so happened that the corresponding card was a draw +4.

“One day your luck will run out,” Danny threatened as he reached his gloved hand to draw new cards from the deck that was decorated with his father’s face. He often wondered how legal it was for his parents to make a custom FentonWorks Uno card deck.

His face suddenly split into an evil grin when he saw not one, not two, but THREE skip turn cards. (All of them showing Jack Fenton with his hand stretched forward in a halting motion on different colored backgrounds.)

“Looks like that day is coming soon.”

Five minutes and a powerful outplay by Steve later, Danny was grumbling to himself as he shuffled the deck. The word “LOSER” flashing at him from the console. 

“It’s not fair, I almost had that one,” he complained, starting to deal the cards out again. 

He didn’t get far, when their peaceful time was interrupted by a blast hitting the tree beside the bench they were sitting on. Danny turned to the tree to see one of the branches started burning in the place where it was hit.

“A wide shot,” he muttered. “That could only mean-”

“I’VE GOT YOU NOW, GHOST KID!” 

“Of course.”

There was suddenly a huge ecto-blaster pointed right at his face. His father’s angry face staring at him from the other side. 

“GIVE BACK MY FENTONWORKS BRANDED UNO CARDS, YOU GHOST PUNK! DO YOU KNOW HOW VALUABLE THEY ARE?! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THEM?!” his dad threatened, pointing to the deck of cards, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Steve laying on the bench beside them.

“What the-? MY SON’S PET GHOST! I KNEW YOU WERE EVIL! YOU STOLE THE CARDS!” his dad yelled, moving the gun to point it at Steve.

“Woah, woah. No, he didn’t!” Danny interjected, waving his hands up in an attempt to get the barrel of the gun directed back at him. Which worked out perfectly, when his dad turned to him.

“ARE YOU SAYING YOU BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE?! AGAIN?!”

“...No?”

Steve chose that moment to come out of the console to hiss at the elder Fenton. His dad only raised his weapon higher, now facing the little ghost again. Finger ready on the trigger.

Danny tried pushing Steve out of the way, surprised when it actually worked. Apparently his pet had no trouble coming in contact with other ghosts. Interesting.

He ignored the thought for now, as he leaned into his father’s shooting field.

“Look, da-I mean… Jack. We were just uhhh…” Danny looked around for a way out of this sticky situation. Seeing no polite solution, he quickly grabbed Steve’s console without any other words and ran away, tripping on the bench’s backside while trying to hop over it. He landed on his face, but quickly gathered himself and continued running. 

He could hear his dad cursing and shooting after them. Every shot missing miserably.

4. 

It was later that day after Danny got back home that both of his parents interrogated him in the kitchen. 

Steve’s console laid on the table in the middle of the room. Its inhabitant was currently out hissing at his dad, who was trying his best to strangle him, but Steve kept phasing through all the attempts as the ghost was incorporeal.

“Danny, your …pet is clearly up to something. Your father saw him casually hanging out with Phantom,” his mom stated, hands on her hips as she looked down at Danny. 

“And he stole our FentonWorks branded uno cards!” his dad added, giving up on strangling Steve. 

It took a while to calm down his parents and come up with barely passable excuses on why exactly Steve had the cards and was hanging out with his parents biggest enemy. 

The elder Fentons finally gave up seeing as they could not convince their son to hand over the ghost. They were still not happy with him at all and were definitely suspicious of the whole thing, so Danny knew he just had to be more careful about what he was gonna be doing with Steve from now on. 

The little ghost was still showing his displeasure by hissing at Danny’s parents. The boy sighed, petting Steve in hopes of calming him down enough to make him disappear into the console again, so he could take it to his room and far away from his parents.

He realized what a big mistake that was only once he saw his parents’ curious gazes follow the point where his hand was touching the ghost. The incorporeal ghost that could not be touched by fully material organisms. 

Which Danny was not.

Because he had ectoplasm in his bloodstream.

Shit.

“How are you touching that thing?” his mom asked, her face a mix of surprise, concern and fascination.

Danny looked from one parent to the other. “Uh. He likes me?” he asked stupidly. 

Before he could get an answer, he picked up Steve’s console running out of the kitchen. He tripped on one of the chairs in the process, falling face flat on the ground, before quickly gathering himself back up again and booking it out of there.

5.

After that, Danny managed to keep Steve out of trouble for a few days. Unfortunately, the peace couldn’t last any longer as Technus finally got a wind of the new technology based ghost in town.

And just like Danny’s parents, he found him incredibly fascinating.

The fascination quickly turned into mischief, as Technus realized just how attached Danny was to the little creature. He managed to snatch the console, while the boy was trying to fight off various appliances from the electronics store Technus just raided.  

One of said appliances was a microwave that now held poor Steve hostage. Which Technus threatened to turn on if Danny didn’t let him do his evil taking over the world deeds in peace.

“Let him go, Technus!” bargaining was all Danny had left. He couldn’t risk his friend perishing in a microwave explosion. “Steve didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Steve?” Technus questioned, his voice sounding very disgusted. “Is that the creature’s name? What an absolute lack of creativity.”

“It’s a placeholder name! I’ll come up with a better one eventually!”

“How about microwave food? Get it? ‘Cuz I’m gonna microwave it,” the ghost asked, smirking evilly. Danny’s eyes widened in terror as Technus reached out to the flying prison, which held his friend.

Before anything could happen, Technus was suddenly shot with a blast from the back. It broke his concentration enough to make the ecto energy surrounding the microwave dissipate. It started falling to the ground. Danny quickly took his chance and dived to save Steve. 

Just as he was about to reach the falling microwave, the energy around it returned and moved the appliance right from under Danny’s nose. 

“NO!” he screamed, turning his trajectory to follow the escaping microwave. 

Another blast flew right past his ear and that’s when he finally noted that his parents had made it to the battlefield. Their shots were pointed at both him and Technus. He needed to stop them before they accidentally brought any harm to Steve.

“No, don’t shoot him!” he yelled to the Fentons. “He has a hostage!”

“You’ll be our hostage once I’m done with you ghost kid!” his dad yelled back, aiming his gun and shooting at Danny (absolutely missing in the process). 

“Hun, hold on,” his mom, always the more rational one, put a hand on Jack’s arm to make him lower the gun, before addressing Danny. “What hostage?” she demanded in a strong voice.

Danny grimaced a little as he heard Technus laugh in the background, already choosing to rain chaos upon some other electronics store or whatever. “...Steve,” he said to his parents.

“Wha- Steve?” his mother questioned, clearly irritated. “Our son’s ghost pet Steve?”

“Yes.”

“So now that evil ghost is hanging out with other evil ghosts too!” his dad yelled, raising his gun and running off after Technus. “That’s enough, that little ghost scum is gonna regret his existence!”

“Wait no!” Danny screamed after his father. He was about to follow him, but his mother’s voice stopped him.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked accusingly, cocking her gun and getting ready to aim at Danny again. 

“Well! Why don’t you care? Your son would be heartbroken if anything happened to his pet, right?” he shot back, eyes nervously trailing in the direction of Technus and his dad.

“Danny will get over it. It’s just a ghost.”

“UGH! Steve hasn’t done anything to make you believe he’s evil!” Danny was ready to rip his hair out in frustration. “It’s your own fault he’s even existing in the first place! Maybe you should take some responsibility instead of accidentally creating ecto abominations left and right!” he yelled before turning away and flying to stop his dad from making everything worse.

Maybe he did say a bit too much, but the irritation he felt took over him. Why couldn’t his parents just stop being so negative towards anything ghost related? Steve may have been a little bit hissy towards them, but that was literally the most threatening thing he could do. Other than that he’s been nothing, but cute and silly.

Danny shook his head, focusing on getting Steve back from the clutches of the actually evil ghost. Luckily it didn’t take long before he managed to retrieve his friend as Technus was being distracted by his father’s incessant screaming. 

The ghost was quickly sucked into the thermos after that. Danny, still riding on worry, adrenaline and slight irritation, totally missed a pair of violet eyes curiously observing him while he coddled with Steve, glad the pet was finally safe in his arms.

+1

Maddie was not happy about the ghostly creature that’s been living under her own roof for a few weeks now. She’s had enough of the ecto-dogs taking over their fridge, so she definitely didn’t need another intruder.

She was especially not happy about it being so close to her son though.

This ‘Steve’ was clearly only trouble. He kept aggressively hissing at everyone except her son, and continued getting into shenanigans. Yet for some reason Danny found him fun and endearing. It honestly bothered her how much Danny seemed to love this thing. 

Even worse, how that little thing seemed to bond with her son.

But as much as she hated this ghostly nuisance, it fascinated her. If it was up to her, the little creature would be closed off in their lab and examined for any way that could help them improve their weaponry and inventions.

Sadly it seemed like Danny would never let that happen.

She sighed as she went up the stairs, readjusting her grip on the basket full of dirty hazmat suits and lab coats from their basement. They usually just kept a spare laundry basket down in the lab to save a trip upstairs if anything got stained with ectoplasm, which happened often. 

Unfortunately that also meant the basket usually laid forgotten down there until it was so full nothing else would fit in it. It wasn’t fully packed yet, but it has been a while since the last wash. It was finally the time to get these clothes clean.

She reached the bathroom, putting the basket down on the floor in front of the washing machine. She started loading up the laundry starting off with the piece of clothing that made her decide to do the lab laundry in the first place.

Her blue jumpsuit was fully stained in ecto-goo. She and Jack had come back from a ghost battle only half an hour prior, the battle taking place only one block down from their house. She got hit by the goo when her husband, as usual, missed his mark while trying to shoot the ghost kid, who was fighting another ghost again.

She grimaced at the thought, squeezing the jumpsuit and stuffing it into the washing machine, suddenly feeling annoyed.

That was another thing that’s been weird recently. The ghost kid’s affiliation with Danny’s stupid pet.

With so many ghost attacks around the town, they quickly noticed that Steve wasn’t very fond of other ghosts. The only ghost he seemed to like for whatever reason was Phantom. Which definitely was a mutual thing, since the ghost kid was awfully protective of the little ghost.

Maddie still remembered his outburst from a while back. It seemed so…genuine. She didn’t understand why he cared so much and it bothered her. Something was definitely going on there, but it felt as if she was missing a big puzzle piece.

She let out another sigh. Her basket was now empty, but there was still some space left in the washing machine. She decided to go ask Danny if he’s got anything else to put in it, since Steve tended to …leak on things sometimes.

While still kind of stuck in her own thoughts, she made her way to Danny’s room. As she approached, she heard her son snickering through the door.

“Steve, come on. Homework can wait. What are you, my mom?”

Looked like her son was slacking on his homework by playing with the annoying thing. Without thinking to knock, she opened the door ready to catch him in the act and to scold him for it.

“He’s not, but I…am…” she stilled at the sight in front of her.

There, on her son’s bed, laid no one other than Phantom himself. Though laid wasn’t the right word. He hovered right above it. Steve’s console held in both of his hands as he stared right back at her, green eyes wide in shock.

Steve took a round around him, before going back into the console.

It was all they needed to snap out of their stupor.

Phantom, in panic, fell atop the bed, before raising himself on all fours and yelling “I CAN EXPLAIN!”

And god if the look on his face didn’t look familiar. It was exactly the kind of look Danny would give her when she caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. She probably wouldn’t have noted the similarity if it wasn’t for the familiar background of Danny’s bedroom and the assumption she already had of finding him in here instead. 

A quick look around the room told her he was not present, so the person she heard had to be the ghost in front of her. But that was Danny’s voice for sure.

Have their voices always been so similar?

An unsettling theory was forming in her head, but she tried her best to push the thought aside.

Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and gave Phantom a condescending look. “Well then, explain.”

That seemed to take him by surprise. Maddie assumed he probably expected her to pull out an ecto-blaster and start shooting. To be fair, she probably would, but thanks to the mishap with her jumpsuit getting dirty, she didn’t have any weapon on her. (And the idea of shooting him now left a bitter taste in her mouth.)

Observing her carefully, he slowly stood up from the bed, putting his console down by the pillows. He tried to stutter something out, but it was cut off by a yelp when his legs tangled in the sheets and he fell off the bed.

Maddie cringed a little at his fall. She quickly realized it wasn’t the first time she saw something like this happen. Danny often did the exact same thing, whenever she came in to wake him up after his alarm didn’t seem to do its job.

Phantom quickly got up to his feet. “Well, uh. You see, I was just-” he paused, looking around the room. His eyes landed on Steve’s little face coming from the screen of his home. “Babysitting! Your, uh, your son had to go out, so I’m just… looking out for this little guy.”

And oh how she wanted to believe him, but the way he nervously smiled at her from across the room, rubbing his arm and shuffling his feet on the ground. It was probably the first time she got to properly look at him. No adrenaline from an ongoing battle or distortion of blurry video recordings. 

Without thinking she took a few steps forward. Seeing her slowly advance, he took two steps back, but his legs quickly bumped into the nightstand. With no more space to back out he watched her come closer with fearful eyes, as he laughed nervously. “I know you’re probably mad, so let me just… leave-”

His talking ceased when she finally approached him. Without a word she gently reached out to swipe the bangs out of his eyes before her hand landed on his cheek. 

She could feel him growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, as she gave him a long look-over.  He even tried to talk again, but she just shushed him and continued scanning his features and everything. 

She inhaled sharply when she finally saw it.

Before he could react, she pulled him into a hug, wrapping one arm around him while the other gently stroked his hair. “Oh, my baby…”

The boy immediately stiffened in her arms. “Wh-What?” He let out another nervous laugh as he tried to wiggle out of her embrace. “Uh. What are you talking about-hAH. Wha-” he stilled as he got a look at her face, probably noticing the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“Danny.” Even though the name left her lips as a whisper, it still held a lot of intensity. The tears streamed down her face as she asked, her voice quiet and uncertain “What happened?”

It made absolutely no sense to her. Danny couldn’t be a ghost, Phantom’s been around for almost two years now and Danny’s has been here all this time. But even though she didn't know how or why, she knew it was her son standing in front of her.

A mother always recognises her child.

(Even though it took her an embarrassingly long time to do that.)

Was it some sort of disguising technique? Can some ghosts still pass as humans? It would definitely explain all the times their inventions seemed to go off around him or how he seemed to be the only human able to actually touch his ghostly pet.

It was because he wasn’t human. He was a ghost. Which meant he must’ve died and neither her or Jack even noticed. The thought brought her tears back full force. She almost choked on a sob as all the possibilities of her child’s death flashed in her head.

She already felt horrible for not noticing all this before now, but what if his death was also somehow her fault?

Instead of providing her with the answers she craved so badly, he just stared at her with an unreadable expression. It took him a while, but his gaze finally moved to the ground, before his entire face broke and he looked up to her again. 

“I’m not dead I swear!” he said, voice full of desperation. As if this was the most important thing and he needed her to believe him.

So he was in denial. Maybe that’s what gave him the ability to pass as a human and not turn into an obsessive evil ghost. Holding onto the thought of still being alive, helped him keep his humanity.

Well, she wasn’t going to shatter that and risk him becoming malevolent.

“O-Of course not, honey,” she said, voice at the edge of breaking. She stroked his cheek gently again, feeling how icy cold he was and almost letting out another sob.

“No, I know what you’re thinking,” he said, gently pulling back from her hand, which hurt her only a little bit before she focused back on what he was saying. “You’re creating an entire theory about me being in denial or something!”

Well, he got her spot on.

Before she could respond, he continued in a softer voice.

“I’m still human too, I swear. Or more like… half human?” he offered, shrugging a bit at her. “Half-human, half-ghost?”

What.

She decided to voice her confusion.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really get it myself, but look!” As he said this a light blue ring appeared at his waist. Maddie took a step back as it split in two and traveled up and down his body.

And there was her Danny, black hair, blue eyes and everything. She already knew it was him, but having it confirmed like this, seeing just how much he always resembled Phantom and she didn’t notice was insane.

“See! Human. I’ve got a heartbeat and everything to prove it!” 

She slowly leaned back in and placed her hand back on his cheek. It was warmer now, maybe still slightly colder than a normal temperature, but definitely not icy cold as it was just a minute prior.

He definitely felt two of her fingers slide down under his jaw to check for the mentioned heartbeat, but he didn’t say anything about it.

She sighed in relief when she found it.

“But… how is this possible?” she asked. It would be incredibly fascinating if she wasn’t so worried for her child. 

“I don’t know. I kinda uh…” he looked away and shrugged. Maddie caught his gaze locking onto the console still laying on his bed. “I think it’s kinda like Steve? I got infused with ectoplasm or something.”

Well that… that was certainly a better option than him dying. But the comparison brought back the memory of his outburst during the technology ghost fight. 

Suddenly she realized he might’ve not been talking only about Steve and the ecto-dogs as she initially assumed. 

“Oh, Danny.” she covered her mouth as guilt washed over her. “It’s our fault isn’t it?”

He immediately perked up. “No! No. It’s my own fault, you didn’t do anything. I was just being stupid…” he sat down on his bed looking down at his shoes. 

Maddie followed suit, putting a hand on his back and rubbing it softy. She needed to ask, she needed to know how it exactly happened. No matter how terrified she was of the answer. Before she could gather the courage though, he already opened his mouth and spoke so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m sorry.”

His sad tone broke her heart. She wrapped her arms around him again and pulled him into her side. “No, Danny. I’m so sorry we never noticed and then we went ahead and shot at you and said so many horrible things. Oh baby, I love you so much, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said back, reciprocating the hug. They stayed like this for a while, Maddie gently stroking his hair while mumbling out apologies. Danny kept mostly quiet, but he seemed content in her embrace.

They would’ve stayed like this longer if it wasn’t for the little ghostly presence appearing behind them. Maddie felt a shiver when Steve phrased through her arm in an attempt to get Danny’s attention. 

She moved her hand away and turned to the creature. Surprisingly he didn’t hiss at her this time, even when Danny raised up from their hug to look at the little ghost. 

“Yes, yes. You want attention, I hear you,” her son snickered and reached out to the console as Steve hid back inside it again. 

Maddie watched as her son checked the needs of the creature on the screen before giving it some virtual food. Steve gladly consumed the little pixels and did something akin to a little happy dance.

She couldn’t help, but smile.

“I must admit,” she said, catching the attention of both her son and the ghost. “He is kind of cute when he’s not hissing at me all the time.”

Danny chuckled in response. “Yeah, Steve’s really nice, you just gotta get to know him better.”

“I should give him a chance then,” she smiled back. 

Steve came out of the console and neared her face, almost as if studying her. After a second of staring he let out a chirp and did a little round around both her and Danny, which made her giggle a little.

“Guess you really aren’t as bad as we thought, Steve,” she said, before pausing a little. “Even though your name is a little silly.”

“It’s a placeholder!” Danny whined, dropping back on his bed. The console was now laying on his stomach as Steve made his way back in.

“Honey, it’s been a placeholder for weeks now. When are you gonna finally come up with a real name?”

“I don’t have any ideas! And everyone’s only criticizing, but their ideas aren’t any better! Like dad’s! Ecto-Steve? For real?”

“Hmm, that was a bit funny,” Maddie said, trying to hold back the laughter. “But maybe he was onto something there?”

“He definitely was not.”

“I mean, if you drop the Steve part and just call him Ecto. It would be fitting.” She looked to her son, catching his gaze. “He did come from ectoplasm after all.”

Danny raised up on his elbows while he contemplated that. “You know what? That’s not bad. I kinda like it,” he smiled and addressed the little ghost. “Ecto, huh? What do you think about that?”

The ghost gave a little chirp as it came out of the console to make a few happy zigzags in the air.

Maddie chuckled a bit. “Well, looks like he likes it.”

“Guess he does.” Danny slumped back onto the bed, a very content smile on his face. 

There was a beat of silence before he opened his mouth again.

“I’m too used to Steve, I’m still gonna call him that.”

“I know, honey.”

[dullgecko]

Okay I’m really going to try and keep this one actually concise this time. Here goes. Bad Kids, skirts, and gender.

Riz hates skirts. Originally he thought it was a trans thing - while he doesn’t have much, if any, dysphoria about his body, it always hits him hard when people misgender him and skirts are generally viewed as more feminine. And yes, while that was a part of it, he still hated skirts even when he tried one with just his friends around and they never misgendered him (apart from that one time they accidentally deadnamed him because they didn’t understand goblin grammar, but after that they never did it again). He eventually figured out that it was mostly a sensory thing because he also hated Fabian’s pirate shirts because the sleeves were too floaty, and while stolen oversized hoodies were great, if they were too long all of the added fabric did sometimes send him into a meltdown.

Gorgug loves skirts, especially long skirts with big secret pockets that can hold loads of little trinkets. If a skirt doesn’t have pockets, Gorgug will get out their sewing machine and make it have pockets. He is very ambivalent towards gender and takes a pretty open approach to pronouns. He, she, they, xe, whatever you want really as long as it isn’t rude. When Gorgug says any pronouns, most people just use he/they, but xe really does mean any pronouns and it makes her really happy when the bad kids change up the pronouns.

Adaine has a complicated relationship with skirts. She figured out that she was trans pretty early on, and coming out to her parents had not been her choice. It had been a long fight with her parents to make them accept her new name and to let her wear skirts at all. However once she was around people who were much more accepting, she was able to think more about if she actually liked skirts which did end up in a 2am panic attack wondering if she’d been faking being trans the whole time. She hadn’t, she just liked wearing jeans sometimes. It was all fine.

After getting over the whole raised on toxic masculinity thing, Fabian starts having Gender Thoughts (tm). He hates it. He thought he had it all figured out, but now he (she?) is trying on skirts with Mazey and it does feel nice. But liking skirts doesn’t automatically mean he’s a girl because clothes don’t have a gender and guys can wear skirts. But equally, according to Riz and Adaine, cis people don’t normally feel a weird amount of relief and happiness when accidentally hit by a gender swapping spell that lasts 24 hours. But whatever. Skirts are fun. Pronouns and gender are honestly still a bit of a mystery, but Fabian eventually decides that he and she are both fine, occasionally leaning more one way or the other. Where Gorgug’s gender can be described as “no thanks :)” Fabian’s is more “yes :)”.

Fig loves skirts. Big genderfluid energy, but most commonly uses they/them but loves a sprinkling of he and she too. Fig’s gender is basically just “whatever is funniest for the bit”. Fig also loves doing drag for their concerts, flawlessly mixing hyper-masc and hyper-femme. Fig was actually one of the last to come out, partly because it didn’t feel super relevant, but there was also definitely some worry about how Ayda would react. (Ayda was fine with it and after doing some extra research of her own, started using she/they)

Kristen has a pretty simple relationship with skirts. She had been forced to wear dresses and skirts for church, and as soon as she was out of that she stopped wearing skirts completely and didn’t look back. I can never decide if it’s funnier for Kristen to be the only cis one or to be the very last one to figure out that they’re nonbinary (everyone else thought Kristen already knew and just hadn’t come out)

Bonus: Gorgug makes Boggy a little skirt and it is the cutest thing ever.

the thought of every single one of them being some sort of trans amuses the shit out of me. They really do travel in packs.

[yunmeng-jiang]

ok it's time for my Official Jiang Cheng Ship Opinions Post. buckle in this is gonna take a bit

Xicheng: I like it in 1 extremely specific circumstance (bonding over very similar experiences post-canon) but I've only seen that done well like. twice. NEEDS to have good characterization (also rare unfortunately) and take into account what they can and can't do as their own sect leaders with regards to courtship/marriage.

Chengqing: perfect in every way. that's it that's all I need to say.

Sangcheng: ehhhhh? Cute in Cloud Recesses summer camp era, not feasible post-canon due to irreconcilable differences in worldview and how much danger it's acceptable to put Jin Ling in.

Zhancheng: honestly I prefer this to be platonic. Hatefucking is not my jam and LWJ is Wei-Ying-sexual in canon anyway. Give Jiang Cheng a friend who is as weirdly obsessed with Wei Wuxian as he is but in a slightly different way. I want to see them coming to terms with that.

Ningcheng: again, someone just as weirdly obsessed with Wei Wuxian, but a little to the left. I don't think either one of them is ever going to look at the other and not see "the guy WWX likes better than me." Maybe someday they'll form a relationship that isn't based entirely around Wei Wuxian, but it seems kind of unlikely.

Chengyao: I'm actually coming around to this a bit recently? Again, it really needs to keep good characterization at the forefront and consider their positions as individual sect leaders, and remember that their "divorced couple energy" is part of the Guanyin Temple shitshow and not the way they would usually behave, especially for Jin Ling's sake. I want to see more fics where Meng Yao grows up with the Jiang sect so that Jiang Cheng is attached to him from the very beginning.

Mingcheng: meh. I don't really think about this ship that much because it honestly doesn't compel me at all. sorry to the mingcheng enjoyers it there I simply do not get it

Chengxuan: same as above, I don't really get this one. Their dynamic is just not that interesting to me.

Chengyi: that is a child. hard no on this one.

Miancheng: kinda cute? I like it when Jiang Cheng recruits her into the Jiang after she gives up on the Jin, it's a fun idea, but I think I like them better as friends.

Ruocheng: no. just no.

Zhucheng (chengliu? Wen Zhuliu and JC): also no.

Chengsu: I could get behind the idea of JGY desperately contacting Jiang Cheng and being like "help I just found out my fiancee is my sister can you please pretend you've been in love with her all this time and get married to her instead??? I'll negotiate to get you more Jin Ling rights if you do." she fits JC's list of desirable qualities in a wife. unfortunately she gets like 6 seconds of screen time and then dies so we really don't know very much about her, which makes it a bit hard to form a strong opinion on the ship

Other Chengsu? Sucheng/Mincheng/Chengshan/whatever this is: I actually think it's interesting that Su She and Jiang Cheng share the trait of "treat them nicely within this narrow window of time in their life in order to get them to become loyal to you forever, otherwise fuck you." It's possible that if Su She had grown up with the Jiang the two of them would have found some common ground and maybe become friends. I'm more interested in non-romantic interactions here

Cheng...yang? what do you call the Xue Yang/Jiang Cheng ship? Xuecheng? idk. again, not really my jam.

Chengjiao. Lingcheng? Jiang Cheng/Wang Lingjiao. Do people even ship this? I could see it as character development for her I guess. At this point I'm just fishing for possible pairings.

and finally, saved for last...

Xiancheng: this isn't romantic or sexual or platonic, it's all three and also a secret fourth thing that's more intense than all of them put together. As a ship, I don't prefer it, because it's too easy to flatten it out into either a boring cutesy fluffy cliche or a boring jealous/possessive boyfriend type thing. I need to see them being weird about each other in a way that no one can possibly identify, especially themselves. They'll die for each other. They'll live for each other. They'll destroy themselves and be happy about it as long as they believe that the other is going to be okay. You really can't make it as simple as "yeah these two want to fuck."

[steddieas-shegoes]

ok so hear me out: i think steve would be a huge fan of oingo boingo. maybe robin introduced him or maybe eddie who knows point is steve is like really obsessed with them, and if anyone (but robin) asks he always just says he likes the music, thinks it’s fun or whatever but in reality? in reality he thinks danny elfman is hot. and like only robin knows and she just keeps having to bite her tongue from mentioning that steve so clearly has a type (weird bizarre punk musicians that give off big nerd vibes) anyway maybe robin finally points it out and steve denies it hard and just keeps saying that they don’t look that much alike and robin can kinda agree in some ways (mostly different hair) but in some ways steve is also just wrong (big eyes, same build, same energy) but either way it did the damage because now steve can’t like stop thinking about it and maybe eddie convinces corroded to cover one of their heavier songs (maybe grey matter or insects) to impress steve (because he’s so gone for that man) and steve kinda just like has no choice but to date eddie

Okay I won't lie, I was today years old when I realized Oingo Boingo was Danny Elfman's band. I was also today years old when I realized that despite knowing OF them, I apparently didn't know any of their songs well enough to do this. So I am just a major disappointment all around today, but I did something! Hopefully this something is good enough to pass the test! - Mickala ❤️

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

It wasn’t the first time Robin caught Steve dancing to them. She’d waited for the song to change last time before walking fully into the room, but this time, she couldn’t wait.

“Oingo Boingo, Steve? Really?”

Steve jumped and quickly shut off the boombox playing a tape that he owned.

“Robin! When did you get here?”

She smirked at him being flustered, and was that…embarrassment?

“Oh, relax. I already knew you listened to some of their music,” she said as she stood next to him, reaching down to grab a cookie from the cooling tray he was placing them on. “I may not understand it completely, but I have my suspicions.”

“It’s just fun! Easy to dance to, ya know?” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself of this as much as Robin.

“Uh huh. Definitely nothing to do with how similar a certain dingus looks to Danny Elfman. That can’t be a reason.”

She smirked as Steve flushed bright red and turned away from her to pretend like he was busy.

“It’s not a reason. They don’t even look that similar,” he insisted.

“Suuuuure. These are good, by the way,” she pointed at the cookies with her mouth full of the last bite of the one she’d already stolen.

“Thanks. Mrs. Henderson’s recipe. Dustin wanted some and she’s been busy with work so I thought I’d make them for Hellfire tonight,” he shrugged.

“Always taking care of your kids, huh?”

“Did you come by just to annoy me?”

Robin rolled her eyes, jumping up to sit on the counter and watch Steve put the next batch of cookie dough into the oven.

“No, that was just a bonus.”

“So? Why’re you here?”

“Vickie and I have a date tonight. I need to borrow a sweater,” Robin sighed.

“You have sweaters.”

“But none as nice as yours! C’mon, Steve! I promise I will wash it and bring it back to you by this weekend. It’s not like you’re using it for a date.”

“Ouch,” Steve said, throwing his hand to his chest dramatically. “Fine. But not the yellow one. I am wearing it for Hellfire.”

Robin raised her brows, but didn’t comment, jumping off the counter and kissing his cheek before running upstairs.

—---------------------------------------

“Sorry to be so early!” Eddie yelled into Steve’s house as he opened the front door.

The music was loud, so he realized Steve probably didn’t hear him.

If he didn’t want a nail bat to the head, he needed to be careful and not scare him.

He set his bag down by the couch for now, walking towards the stairs to go to where the music was coming from.

He stood in the doorway of Steve’s room, smiling to himself as he watched Steve dance around his room while he got ready.

He was shirtless, and his belt wasn’t done, his hair was still a little wet from a shower, and Eddie was going to start drooling.

He snapped himself out of it when he realized what Steve was listening to.

“Didn’t really take you for an Oingo Boingo fan, Stevie,” Eddie said just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Steve almost tripped over his own feet, barely catching himself on the corner of the dresser.

“Eddie! You’re early!” Steve tried to look casual, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Yeah, sorry. Just wanted to be all set up and make sure you didn’t need help with something,” he said, genuinely apologetic for scaring him.

“Oh,” Steve seemed to relax and walked over to the stereo playing the music, turning it off instead of turning it down. “If you wanna go set up, I’ll be down in a few.”

“You good? I really didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie said, coming into the room a bit, big eyes looking up at Steve from under his lashes.

“I’m good, yeah,” Steve said, small pink tint dusting his cheeks as he looked down at the sweater on his bed.

“Good. Like that sweater on you, by the way,” Eddie winked before turning and leaving the room.

He pretended to ignore Steve’s groan and the immediate sound of someone falling onto their bed.

—---------------------------------

Hellfire went longer than usual that night, but Steve didn’t really mind.

It’s not like he had any other plans, and he liked having the house full.

That’s why he had the kids over for movie nights once a week, why he invited Robin to stay with him when they had closing shifts together, why he even offered his home as the new meeting place for Hellfire Club in the first place.

Everyone stayed to help clean up a bit, but Eddie was very protective of his things, so they all slowly scattered after bringing trash and empty plates to the kitchen for Steve to handle.

Eventually, Steve walked to the dining room to check on Eddie’s progress, and froze when he saw him looking at the new poster he’d gotten.

“So you’re not just a casual fan then?” Eddie smirked, like he was teasing.

It wasn’t the first time he teased Steve about his music taste, but it was definitely the first time Steve didn’t blame him for it.

“I mean, they’re just different. I like different sometimes,” Steve shrugged.

Eddie put the poster back in the corner where Steve had hidden it among a few other items he’d picked up while shopping earlier that week.

“You do?” he asked, more serious than this conversation probably needed to be.

“Yeah. Robin told me I need more things that make me happy for me, and they’re one of them.”

Eddie nodded, couldn’t help but feel a little proud that Steve was actually listening to advice and actually accepting that he deserved to enjoy things just for him.

“Good. Then enjoy them. I’m not judging, just surprised,” Eddie clarified.

“Okay,” Steve said with a small smile.

“Okay,” Eddie smiled back.

—------------------------------------------

The stage was bright, brighter than usual.

Or maybe Steve just was getting the start of a migraine.

Or maybe Robin was right and Eddie just lit up his world in different ways.

It was hard to say, but it was certainly easy to watch Eddie be a star on stage.

He was always flashy, always bigger than life, but on stage, it was more.

“Hey, you good?” Robin nudged him from her spot in the corner of the booth. She was hiding from the bartender who tried flirting with her for the last two trips to the bar.

“Yep,” he replied with a smile.

“Alright! Next up is a new one for us. It’s a cover of a song by a band that may be a joke to a lot of you, but it’s kind of a favorite of someone really important to me. Hope you don’t mind that I made it metal, Stevie,” Eddie smirked towards the corner where he was sitting.

Steve’s stomach flipped as he heard the intro guitar.

“Wow, Eddie loves you so bad,” Robin teased.

“Shut up, Robin,” Steve said, waving his hand at her, unable to look away from where Eddie was singing his favorite song.

He was mesmerized, and despite the more metal sounds Corroded Coffin performed it with, he loved it.

“That was Grey Matter by Oingo Boingo, performed by your favorite local shitheads, Corroded Coffin. Goodnight!”

The stage lights went off, and the crowd cheered.

It wasn’t a big crowd, it never was, but it grew every week they performed, and tonight was definitely the biggest crowd they’d had yet.

He could see the shadows of the band moving to break down their equipment and instruments, but surprisingly, Eddie’s shadow was missing.

“That sure seemed like an act of love,” Robin teased, kicking his foot under the table.

“He was just being nice. He wants me to keep liking what I like,” Steve tried to sound convincing, but even he could recognize that it was more than just a friendly thing to do.

“I do.”

Steve turned quickly, Eddie’s fond smile looking back at him from much closer than he was expecting.

“Eds!” Steve jumped up and threw his arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Can’t believe you covered my favorite song! It was great.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and relaxing against him. “It was good?”

He could just barely see Robin rolling her eyes in her seat, sipping on some fruity drink that the bartender probably only made her because he wanted to fuck her.

Steve pulled back a little, but kept his arms around Eddie’s neck.

He’d only had one beer, but he suddenly felt drunk off of the smell of Eddie’s cologne and sweat so close to him.

The room blurred away, and Steve realized there was no reason for him to not take a chance.

Eddie covered his favorite song by a band he didn’t even like, made him feel seen and understood with something he hid from everyone except Robin, was leaving his band to clean up without him to come over and see how he did.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” Steve breathed out, ignoring Robin’s groan of ‘finally.’

“Because of the song?” Eddie gulped.

“Because of you.”

Steve had kissed a lot of people in his lifetime, probably more than the average 20 year old, even.

Not a single one of them could compare to the way his lips fit against Eddie’s, to the way Eddie’s hands squeezed his hips before deepening the kiss, to the way his tongue licked along his bottom lip hungrily, testing how much Steve wanted to try to get away with in public.

Hawkins may not be very safe for them, but this bar was. The owner didn’t tolerate any kind of bullying or harassment, and anyone who dared try to fight would be permanently banned.

Steve couldn’t help the little whimper he let out when Eddie’s thigh rubbed just right against the front of his jeans, where he couldn’t hide the fact that he was half-hard.

“Might wanna take this to the bathroom,” Robin told them.

Eddie pulled away, leaving them both breathless, panting in the space between their lips.

“Home?” Steve asked.

“Dingus! You’re my ride!” Robin exclaimed.

“Ride home with Jeff, he’s got my van,” Eddie said without turning around.

“Ride home in your van with people I barely know? Are you insane?” Robin sounded mad, but Steve kind of didn’t care.

“I trust them,” Steve said, still looking at the way Eddie’s eyes were shining in the low light of the bar.

“Great. When I get left on the side of the road for dead, you can tell my parents that you trusted them. That’ll go well.”

“Robbie, I promise you’ll be fine,” he said, pulling away to look at her with an annoyed face. “Please.”

She sighed and stomped her foot.

“Fine. But only because you’ve wanted this so long and if I have to hear one more thing about how Eddie’s curls bounce when he gets excited during Hellfire, I will stab myself with the nearest dull object,” she said before walking away.

“You talk about my curls bouncing?” Eddie teased.

“She’s dramatic. I may have mentioned it in passing one time.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie gave him a quick peck on the lips. “So, wanna explain the Oingo Boingo thing or did I just do something really dramatic over a band that you don’t actually like that much?”

“No, I do love them,” Steve laughed. “Robin said it’s because Danny reminds me of you, which is stupid because he doesn't and I wouldn’t even like a band just because of that when you’re in a band already.”

Eddie’s brows raised as he tried to explain.

“And also, he doesn’t even look like you that much. I guess maybe the eyes a little, and he’s pretty energetic or whatever, and like really talented, but. But that’s it!”

“That’s it?”

“Yes!”

“Oh my god, I love you so much,” Eddie laughed.

Steve froze.

“What?”

Eddie paled when he realized what he said, his eyes wide as his heart started racing in his chest.

“I. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Steve tried not to let the pain show on his face, the hope immediately exiting his body in a rush.

“Oh. Right.”

Steve let his arms drop to his sides, bit his lip to hold back the impending tears.

“No, not like that! Wait. Okay. It’s not because it isn’t true, okay? I do love you. I just didn’t mean to say it like that. Not when we just kissed for the first time,” Eddie tried to explain. “I just don’t wanna scare you off. I’ve never loved anyone before and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Steve gave his cheek a kiss, smiling as he realized that Eddie may actually have him beat on being a bit clingy.

“I won’t be scared off. I love you,” he whispered against his ear.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.”

Steve kissed his neck and pulled away to look at him.

“I’m saying it because I do. And maybe I’m hoping you’ll cover more Oingo Boingo songs,” he joked.

“My love for you knows no bounds, my king,” Eddie bowed, kissing the back of his hand. “I shall cover whatever you wish!”

Steve giggled, probably would have been embarrassed about his reaction if Eddie didn’t obviously enjoy it, smiling up at him.

“So you’ll do Careless Whisper next?”

“My love knows one bound,” Eddie grimaced.

[bagopucks]

M. Marner - The Best Recovery

✄————————————

Mitch Marner x Reader

Requested ✨

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning(s): I don’t think it’s a warning, but the reader has ADHD and Autism. Reader is overwhelmed, and nonverbal as a result.

I left this one vague in certain areas for all types to interpret and see through their own eyes! If that makes sense. I tried to make it personal to the request, but also loose enough for others with these two disorders to see themselves in as well!

—————————————

ADHD and Autism is like cold and hot. Sweet and sour. Excited and bored. Energetic and tired.

Having those two disorders, is something that can cause great deals of mental exhaustion.

I never knew for sure what it was, which disorder was taking the lead or which was bothering me on a particular day. I hated it. I especially hated it, on the days I had to go into work, and my brain was practically arguing with itself. One half wanted to take a new road and see new sights, but the other part of me wanted to keep things the same knowing it was efficient. My mind argued over playing music or basking in silence. Changing my sheets or keeping the same ones, trying new clothes and remaining secure in knowing the old ones worked.

I faced many challenges with those two disorders. Some worse than others. Like moving away from home and into my first apartment. Meeting people at work for the first time, and having to meet new ones when people were hired. Opening up in social atmospheres when people didn’t understand why I chose not to. And meeting my boyfriend.

Mitch was something else, and with him, my mind could never make a decision.

When we met, impulse control decided to fly out the window. He paid for my coffee at a diner, and I had gone to thank him, only to end up at a table with him for an hour. He was sweet. He was really sweet. He had beautiful eyes, and a light soul. He had a few flaws. A little too much energy for my taste, and maybe a little too fidgety.

Aside from those factors, he had gotten my phone number.

On our first date, I struggled between choosing a blue or white dress to wear. The symbolisms of both colors had me uncertain. In the end, I chose red, because it brought out my complexion nicely.

It was a simple dinner, but I found myself interviewing Mitch like he was trying to get a job. There were many pros, and a handful of cons. It stressed me out that certain words I used, he did not understand. I also hated the way he would clench his hands into fists every so often. I learned later, it was a nervous habit of his. I also learned, that he’d done it so much on that date, because I intimidated him immensely.

Mitch told me of his dog, which I was iffy on, and in love with at the same time. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, displacing the brown locks with each pass of his hand. He told me of his career and his friends. Then we had gone out for dessert. Something as simple as ice cream, but I struggled to make a decision. When I’d asked him, “can I get two?” He looked at me with a smile and a questioning expression, but nodded nonetheless.

I had to explain to him, that I wanted to try something new, but needed a backup plan if it backfired. So the second flavor was my go-to. My favorite one. It was on that date that I realized I didn’t have a backup plan if whatever Mitch was to me went south.

That frightened me away from him for a while. He tried to reach out, so much so that I hated how sporadic his texts could be. I hated that he couldn’t just choose one time of day to be a bother. It was only when my coworker spotted the messages, and helped talk me into it, that I decided to go on another date with him.

Mitch might have been a little lacking in common sense, but he wasn’t a complete lost cause. He often commented things like, “you’re weird,” or “that’s different,” when it came to my behaviors. Those words were always spoken with giggles and smiles, so I never took them to heart. But I knew he was right, and I knew he knew I was different. But for once, he made me feel like ‘different’ didn’t have to be a bad thing.

Mitch and I had odd ways of getting to know each other. I asked him endless strict questions, ones that often branched off whatever the answer was to a previous question. And Mitch often listened. He didn’t have to ask as many questions as I did, because he learned I always explained things in depth or I did things with no reason at all. He liked to call me, “unpredictably predictable.”

It took me some time to warm up to the idea of dating, but once we got together, I saw it through.

Mitch was a guy who liked to live life in the fast lane, but I learned that he often changed those lanes for me. He was willing to slow down and wait when I needed him to.

I attended a few of his hockey games. Depending on which disorder was more prominent those nights, I’d be down by the glass, or in a personal suite. I met his team on a few occasions, but I sometimes struggled to hold conversations with them.

Too many people would want to hold too many conversations, and I’d be in the midst of talking to one, only to derail myself and get lost on a sidetrack, and I’d completely forget what was going on.

I usually found Mitch in those situations, and one instance had been the first time where he realized I tended to just.. not speak, when I was overwhelmed. There was something so safe and secure about not engaging, that I had a habit of sinking into those nonverbal tendencies when there was a lot going on around me, or in my head.

When we moved in together, we experienced a lot of that. The actual moving in process had gone surprisingly smoothly. Despite all the change being such a stressor, I had so much excitement inside, that I managed to remain talkative enough to help Mitch get my things where I wanted them. It was the time after I was officially in, that tended to be difficult. I had to get used to a place that wasn’t my own, and didn’t feel like my own for the longest time. I avoided the throw pillows on the couch because the texture was horrid. I didn’t like the fact that I could see dog hair on things at times, and I certainly hated the way he had his towels organized.

There were days Mitch would come home from games and practices, only to find me on my love seat in the corner, a pair of headphones in staring off into space while I had one of his athletic sweatshirts on. One of which I always enjoyed pulling my knees up into, and hugging them while the arm sleeves hung loosely and unoccupied by my sides.

The first few times it happened, Mitch would think nothing of it, pop the earbuds out of my ears, and start talking about his day. Sometimes it aggravated me, and once it even stressed me out enough to snap at him.

Over time, he learned that it was easier to gesture for me to scoot over so he could squeeze his body in beside me. I would be the first to initiate contact if I wanted it. If not, we would sit in silence until I shared an earbud with him, or until I wanted to talk.

It quickly became a routine between us. Something Mitch also learned that I enjoyed. Routines. On the days he came home and I was talkative and excited, we could live and love smoothly. On other days, we learned how to make things work.

Mitch had an off day after winning the game his team played the night before. It was always a weird occurrence when I had to leave him in the mornings, but I’d done fairly well at adjusting to his horribly unorganized hockey schedule. I never would have expected exposure to so much change, to be so helpful for me. But it truly was.

I had bid my lover goodbye that morning with a smile and a hand through his hair as I kissed his cheek. He flashed his pretty teeth at me, and promised to text on my lunch break, unless I wanted to reach out sooner.

As it turned out, I never reached out before then. And I didn’t answer his messages when he reached out during my lunch hour.

People had been laid off at my workplace. Something that sadly happened in many places sometimes. Losing coworkers and gaining a new workload wasn’t necessarily something I was thrilled about. It meant I’d have to rearrange my whole schedule and the way I handled my work. It meant I’d have to redistribute my work hours so I could fit all of my additional projects in a normal day and successfully finish it.

In short, it meant everything had to change.

Only this time, there was nothing to be excited about.

I played with my hair all day, I lost focus, I blankly stared, I ignored people and any kind advances of small talk. I even ignored Mitch.

I stayed at work well past the time I was scheduled to clock out. I didn’t expect extra pay, I just wanted to efficiently reconstruct my schedule. I only clocked out to go home, after I had that sorted. Which was four hours after five. The end of my usual work day.

I’d only texted Mitch once when he asked if I was okay around six. I told him, ‘I’m fine.’

My stare was blank but my mind was running rampant all the way out of the office and back to our shared home. I ignored anybody and everybody, in the lobby, in the elevator, in the hall. Inevitably, I even ignored Zeus when I stepped through the front door of our modern home.

The poor lab was so excited to see me, but I couldn’t have been bothered to pet him. I kicked my shoes off and lined them up against the edge of the shoe mat by the door. I made sure to lock it before I stepped away.

“Babe?” Mitch’s footsteps fell on selectively deaf ears. I didn’t want to be in his presence. I just wanted to be alone. I slipped down the hall and into the kitchen to escape him, and I thought it had worked when I heard his movement stop.

“Babe?” He repeated. My shoulders fell as he peeked into the kitchen. My intense stare was a telltale sign of my inner turmoil. He looked unfazed. He also looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. His hair was a hot mess, and his eyes had that dazed sort of look that a child has when they’re woken up from the nap of a lifetime. His sleep schedule was absolute shit anyway. That’s what happens when you drink too many energy drinks through the day.

“Hey. Did they have you on overtime tonight?” He smiled at me. I couldn’t answer. I physically couldn’t force myself to open my mouth. I hated that I did this to him.

“Okay.. I can do this too.” Mitch adapted quickly to the silence. “I figured it was one of those nights.” He voiced as he walked across the kitchen, opening my snack cabinet. “You always text me back, it’s pointless to have a planned hour to text if you’re not going to text.” He wasn’t insulting me, he was restating sentences I said once. Reasons I gave for why I always responded to him. He was backing up his theory on why I’d had a bad day.

Mitch pulled out a bag of chips and pushed the cabinet shut before he made his way over to the fridge. He pulled out one of my favorite cold drinks, and went about the kitchen grabbing a few other options to snack on. He knew me so well, I almost thought it unfair.

“Will you come lay in bed with me?” His question was asked with a set of puppy eyes I had to roll my own eyes at. But I gave in nonetheless.

Mitch led me back to our room, and I was surprised to find the dark area lit up with the orange glow from our bedside lamp. My weighted blanket was already laid out on my side, and one of my favorite books was on the nightstand.

“I know you don’t want to talk, and that’s fine,” Mitch made his way around the bed to set the snacks on my nightstand, as well as the drink he grabbed. “But was it a really bad night, or just.. just a little overwhelming?”

He remained tentative, only pursing his lips and letting out a sigh when I stared him down.

“Not even gonna give me a nod?” He pried with a hopeful smile. I decided I was done with the eye contact too, my gaze met the floor. “Alright. Why don’t you just come lay down then.” He pulled back the weighted blanket, and I met him on my side of the bed. I reached for Mitch’s hand as I climbed into bed, and he held mine, keeping me steady as I got in. I was quick to break the contact after I decided I no longer needed it.

Mitch slipped his way back around to his own side of the bed, and climbed in next to me. He leaned over the edge of the bed, and his actions caught my attention momentarily.

“Zeus wants up.” Mitch looked back to me for approval. I gave a curt nod.

Soon enough, I heard him tapping his thigh, and the whole bed shake when the big dog hopped up. Zeus tried to quickly step over Mitch to get to me, but my lover was swift in tucking a finger beneath the dog’s collar to stop him.

I never minded Zeus cuddles on bad days. Well sometimes I did. But I never enjoyed him in my face. Mitch only let the dog go once Zeus settled. I slowly shifted to lay down, and the lab found his place by my feet, his head rested on top of my ankles.

“Good boy.” Mitch praised before he slipped his phone from his pocket. He checked the time, then set the device on his own nightstand.

I rolled onto my side and grabbed my book, opening to the page I had marked. I felt my weighted blanket shift, only to realize Mitch was pulling it up over my body. So caring. So gentle. I’d watched him hit guys and cross check them. I’d watched him let teammates’ bodies crash into him for pregame rituals. Mitch was such a rambunctious guy, that I sometimes liked to playfully question if he had an alter ego at home.

I don’t know how long I laid there, reading and flipping through pages. What I did know, was that my lover had not once left my side. Nor did he make any noise. He had the tv on, playing old episodes of Friends, but the sound was muted and the captions were on.

I slowly rested my book on the bedside table, turning on my back to peek at the tv before I looked up at Mitch. I sighed. Before I wanted to be left alone. Now, I wanted him.

I shimmied to his side and carefully rested my head in his lap. Mitch looked down at me, a smile slow to form on his lips. His hands found my hair, gently carding through and scratching at my scalp.

My eyes focused on the tv, one of my hands tucked up close to my chest while the other rested on Mitch’s leg.

“Can I lay down with you?” His soft voice earned a nod from me. I lifted my head and moved away while he pulled his shirt off and slipped beneath the weighted blanket with me. Our bodies faced one another, and he was hesitant at first to reach for me. So I instead, reached for him.

I tucked myself into Mitch’s chest, and he wrapped an arm around me. I felt his chest heave with a sigh, and I rested one of my hands there to feel his heartbeat. He pressed kisses to my head and temple, gently ran his hand up and down my back.

Sometimes life could be overwhelming, but one thing I never minded being overwhelmed by was Mitch. He wasn’t like a hurricane, or some devastating storm. No, he was the ocean, coming in waves. Some harsher than others, but if one knew how to face those waves, and surf them, they could stay afloat.

I had Mitch figured out like an intricate word problem. I knew every variable and obstacle, and every possible solution. I got used to his predictable behaviors, and learned to cope with the unpredictable ones. I was always thankful that Mitch was such an open book when it came to anything. His communication helped me and our relationship.

“I know you had a really bad day.. and just- just let me know if you don’t want me to talk..” he paused, and gave me enough time to protest. I didn’t. The sound of his voice was soothing.

“You’re doing so good, you know that? Every day you’re conquering something new, and I am so proud of you. I know it seems big, but right now it’s just a bump in the road. Whatever you’re going through.” His words of encouragement fell from his lips in faint whispers. I buried my head further into Mitch’s chest. His embrace tightened around me.

“And I’m always here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.” Mitch carded his hand through my hair once again. “I love the sound of your voice.” I could hear the coaxing tone- the smirk on his lips, the way he tried subtly to get me to open up.

It almost worked.

“I love your laugh too.” He pressed a kiss to my head once more. His hand left my hair, and I soon felt it tickle my side. I gasped and reached down to swat his hand away.

“No.”

When I looked up toward him, I could tell that singular word lit him up like a Christmas tree.

So Mitch brought his hand back to my side, and I wasn’t swift enough to push him away before he earned a quiet giggle from my lips. An involuntary giggle. But it did distract me from my own brooding. I couldn’t decide if I was mad at him for disrespecting my boundary, or mad that he knew me well enough to test those limits because sometimes it worked.

“Yeah.. that laugh right there.” Mitch winced when I grabbed his hand, perhaps a bit harsher than I meant to. I pushed his hand away and turned back over, simply to escape his contagious happiness.

He didn’t let me go very easily. He was quick to shimmy his body up against my own, his arm wrapping around my hip again. I tensed in anticipation.

“I’m done.. I’m done. I promise.” I nodded very slowly, and eventually melted into his embrace.

Sometimes I had trouble communicating it, but Mitch was easily my favorite person to be with. My favorite person, period.

I basked in our silence and the occasional sound of Mitch’s soft giggles. I assumed he was laughing at the tv, but my lack of knowing for sure, had me turning in his arms and onto my back. I just had to know what it was. Sure enough, I found his eyes glued to the screen. I rested my hands by his own on my stomach, and gently hooked my fingers beneath the rubber wristband he wore. I ran my thumbs against it and felt the smoothness on one side, likewise the divots of words on the outside.

My eyes settled on the tv, and when Mitch caught on, he reached for the remote to unmute it, but still kept the volume quiet enough to not bother me. Zeus seemed to have enough of all the moving and shifting, as he hopped onto the floor and curled up in his own bed near the corner of the room. The dog bed poor Zeus had to be evicted to when I moved in.

I heard Mitch yawn, and it only took moments before my body returned the gesture. He smiled at me.

“I love you.” Mitch pressed one last kiss to the corner of my lips, then pulled away. I didn’t have to respond. We’d been through this enough times for him to know I felt the same.

I always knew he could tell, because there was a sincere look of fondness that followed the hopefulness after he spoke. He was never disappointed on nights when I didn’t say it back. Instead he was simply happy to know I heard him. To know I felt loved.

Nevertheless, I liked to try. I felt he always deserved that after being so patient and loving.

I leaned forward and pressed a hand to his chest. I opened my mouth to say the words, but my breath fell short.

“It’s okay.” Mitch met me halfway, his gaze dropped to my lips as his nose bumped mine. He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, one that was soft and smooth. One that had me melting into his embrace as he rolled onto his back and slipped an arm beneath me. I curled into his side and rested my head on his chest. Seconds, minutes, a few episodes of Friends passed, before my breathing slowed and my consciousness escaped me. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep, was the faint sound of Chandler’s sarcastic laughter, and Mitch whispering another,

“I love you.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[margarethx]

I was genuinely surprised with the responses I've got on the first part of [THIS story]. It was such a random burst of motivation to write that I didn't even think it through and just posted whatever came out of my head. But I'm very glad that you liked it, since it's the first story I've showed to other people in like 4 years.

The working title will be "Assassinate them with Kindness", and I'll use that as a tag for later parts when I add them. It's also [available on Ao3] if you'd prefer to read it over there.

Enjoy <3

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The weird man does not go to Sam's group on Monday.

Which is not as big of a relief as Sam thought it would be.

Because if the man is not here... where is he? And why did he even ask if he could join the group? Was he just taunting Sam? Teasing him with the knowledge or Sam's schedule and whereabouts, but not revealing how and for what purpose did he get that information?

Sam briefly glances at his wrist, covered neatly by a long-sleeved shirt and a warm blazer. The day is way too hot for this type of clothing, but he refused to look at the bruises on his skin for more than two seconds after noticing them for the first time. He still feels the pain, but it's easier to make it fade into the background, if he pretends it isn't there at all.

In spite of his nervousness and constant worry, Sam leads his group like a true professional. Calm, collected, funny when needed. A shining example of an ex-soldier who has left most of their PTSD far behind by working hard to healthily rejoin society. Definitely not a person, who started carrying a gun in public again after singular weird encounter, and who constantly has to fight with himself to not look over his shoulder and check if there isn't anyone watching him from the shadowed backroom.

But the man was not there. The meeting went well. And all the people leaving the room with their polite "good bye's" and casual "see ya!'s" have no idea about the turmoil in his head.

"See you Thursday," Sam smiles pleasantly and grabs Tyler's hand with both palms, shaking it lightly, as a young vet stops by. "It's nice to see you again. It's been a while," he adds, hoping that his eyes convey genuine warmth.

Tyler is young - too young to deal with this sort of trauma. A typical example of a teenager pulled into a military machine by life circumstances, not because of any principled believes. He went to have a better chance at higher education afterwards. And he lost half of his right leg for it.

He is secretly Sam's favourite in the group, with his sense of humour and positive attitude. Though Sam is sure there is a lot of fears and sadness hidden behind all the jokes, because he acted the exact same way when he first sought out help after coming home. It was easy to see the reflection of younger Sam in Tyler's behaviour.

And it was also great to have someone in the group who could keep everyone's mood relatively light when topics were getting heavy, without making others feel as if their confessions were not treated seriously. It was, of course, Sam's job to control the atmosphere as best as he could , but on days like this - when he himself didn't feel stellar - it was a relief to not shoulder all the emotional weight of the meeting on his own.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wilson?" Tyler asks, also shaking Sam's hands a little.

"It's Sam, we've talked about this," Sam smiles, deflecting by playing their classic game of arguing over formality levels of their relation. It's a bit worrying. To know that he can put on a mask and his vets might notice his distress anyway. But no one else said anything, so maybe he fooled the rest of them successfully?

"Apologies. Is everything alright, Mr. Sam Wilson?"

Tyler sends him a bright grin and Sam sighs. He doesn't have much energy left to argue or pretend. He did not sleep very well last week, to put it lightly.

"I'm alright," he finally replies without much conviction. "It's personal stuff, you don't need to worry about this. It should be resolved by the next meeting," he adds, hoping that this little lie will make his situation look like a solvable problem with the end in sight. Maybe if he believes in it hard enough it would even come true?

For now, it seems that Tyler buys the explanation and drops the topic. As they exchange goodbyes, he still glances at Sam with a slight frown, but he doesn't push. It'd be unusual if he did. As much as Sam loves working with these people and helping them, they're not that close. His vets don't get involved in his personal life.

...They don't know where he lives, for example...

Sam shakes his head to stop himself from thinking and gathers the papers on his desk with a bit more energy than the task requires. He needs to get out of here. The conference room he uses is relatively big, but the walls seem to get closer and closer, the ceiling pressing down on him.

He exits the building, taking long steps, and avoiding everyone's eyes. Fortunately, most people he passes don't know him, so he's not stopped for any conversations about his last weekend and all the fun his co-workers had while he sat on his guestroom floor surrounded by unhealthy snacks, and wondering if it's reasonable to invest his meager savings in an upgraded security system.

It's embarrassing, when he thinks back to those three days. It shouldn't be that big of a deal.

But something about that man... About his eyes. About the bruises he left.

Sam really tried to not look at them too closely to avoid spiraling again, but he's pretty sure his skin almost broke in some places, as if pinched too hard. The only reason he didn't notice it right away was probably the sheer rush of adrenaline that flooded him in that moment and dulled the pain.

Once he's outside, Sam leans on a nearby wall, out of everyone's sight, unsure of what to do next. Even though he spent the last weekend hidden in his home, the place did not feel safe. All he could focus on were unusual noises or the headlights of random cars passing by, casting uneven shadows on his walls. At some point he was sure one specific shadow looked like a person, but when he carefully peered outside, his garden was empty, with the exception of a small bat the flew in circles under the nearest lamppost, catching moths in peace.

Normally, he'd stay, watching the little guy and reminiscing about the time he too could fly at such speed, but it didn't feel safe, so he moved as far away from the window as possible.

All Sam wants right now is to get back to his bed and hide under the covers, go to sleep, and wake up to realize that the whole thing was just a dream.

His bag slips from his shoulder when he slumps against the wall and the strap catches on his wrist. He hisses in pain, reminded once more - as if he forgot, somehow - that his paranoia is actually justified and that his home is not some safe haven he'd like it to be. Because someone strong enough to nearly break his bones with a strong grip knows where he lives and could come back at any second.

If the guy was a real vet, why didn't he come to the meeting?

And again... if he's not here... Where is he?!

Sam readjusts his bag and straightens up. He cannot come home right now, but he needs to sleep somewhere. He could ask one of his new friends to take their couch for the night... but it's not Delacroix and his friendships here are not on the "sleepover" level yet. And if the man decides to look for him, Sam would drag the danger to someone else's home.

He's not that selfish.

Maybe he could find someone on a dating app and stay the night?

He shudders at the idea. It reeks of desperation even to his clouded brain. He would not do that to some random innocent person. And he would not do that to himself. He has enough dignity left.

The mere fact that he came up with a solution like that sobers him up a little bit. It sounds almost ridiculous and he's sure he would laugh about it one day... if he lives long enough to tell the story about his lowest point post-Afganistan.

What he needs to do is to go to a public space. A place with cameras, a nice crowd with enough eyes, to catch if something's wrong - but not crowded enough that a person would fade into the sea of faces and moving bodies.

With that in mind, Sam takes another deep breath to calm himself and marches towards the nearest bar he knows. The place is probably half-empty at this hour, but an evening wave of patrons should start trickling in pretty soon.

The inside of the establishment is a bit too dark for Sam's liking, but as he sits at the bar he feels some of the tension leave his body at last. Behind the bartender there is a freshly cleaned mirror, showing most of the tables, so Sam can keep an eye on the room while eating.

He's not in the mood for drinking - mostly to stay vigilant, not because he couldn't use a nice glass of whiskey right now - but the place offers some typical fast food options, so he picks them from the menu instead. He'll have to really push himself during the next training session to pay for the sugar and fat intake of the last four days, but he feels like he's earned the right to be indulgent for at least a while.

As he eats, Sam observes other patrons suspiciously, looking over his shoulder from time to time. At some point he's sure he feels someone's eyes on his back, but no one new entered the building in the last twenty minutes and the people on nearby tables seem preoccupied with their own thoughts and conversations, so he's sure it's just the paranoia.

It's starting to get dark outside and the bar fills with shadows before someone turns on a few extra laps. There are more people sitting around Sam now, some staring in silence into their drinks, others talking casually, or flirting with the bartender, as per usual.

The guy behind the bar seems cute. Probably a bit younger than Sam's typical partner, but still in his bracket. He accepts the compliments with a calm smile not cutting them off right away, but not doing much to encourage the attention. Sam gets a little lost for a second, observing the man's hands as he prepares the drinks, almost hypnotized by the movents.

Suddenly, one of the patrons - one that's been sitting by the bar before Sam even came in - drops her wallet in a clumsy attempt to pay the bill. She smiles awkwardly at the bartender, who simply grabs the wallet for her from the floor, clearly used to similar shenanigans.

As the guy leans forward, a curtain of thin braids covers his face for a brief second and he glances somewhere in Sam's general direction from between them before standing up.

Sam freezes.

The man looks basically nothing alike the guy who stood at his doorstep last week, but something about that look causes the memories to flood Sam once again. He feels dizzy and the comfortable atmosphere of the bar becomes overwhelming and stuffy in a blink of an eye.

He nearly jumps out of his chair and makes a beeline to the bathroom. He's not sure why. He just needs to... Wash his face maybe. Look into the mirror and have a stern talk with his brain. Something. Anything! To finally calm down.

As he walks towards the bathrooms, he notices some man sitting in a booth he previously didn't see. He's dressed pretty formally, phone in hands, and an annoyed grimace on his face. He looks more like a person currently working than someone who just went for drinks to wind down after work.

His eyes meet Sam's which sends a cold shiver down his spine. For whatever reason, this man - looking like a banker or low-lever politician, which is a common sight in DC - scares Sam just as much as the creepy stranger haunting his thoughts.

He breaks the eye contact and darts towards the bathrooms even faster, nearly colliding with someone who exits the door.

There are three other people in the bathroom, two of which wash their hands and fix their hair in front of the mirror. Neither of them look particularly suspicious, but Sam keeps an eye on them anyway, walking towards the stalls and locking himself in one of them.

He sits there for less then two second before he realizes that he's made himself more vulnerable by isolating himself from the crowd, but he's really not sure what to do next. The brief moment of fear after seeing the bartender with hair hanging over his face seems silly in retrospect. He could've just ignored the panic, push the discomfort down, and go back to the main room. But the man in suit sitting in a secluded booth?

That was actually worrying. Because he didn't just look generally annoyed or angry. He seemed to be specifically mad at Sam. Which would be concerning with any other influential White guy, but in this particular instance Sam feels like there's more to it.

He hears another person enter the bathroom, interrupting his thoughts. Two of the people washing their hands leave. Someone else comes in. Sam keeps track of everyone inside and at some point he's pretty sure he's the only person still sitting here, so he quietly exits the stall.

Just as he expected, the bathroom is empty. It's a bit weird, all things considered. It's a Monday afternoon, sure, but this place is not alive just on the weekends and in the night, when students party. There should be a constant rotation of people going in and out at any point.

But the room is silent as Sam stands there, wondering what to do next.

He's pretty sure he hears some water running on the other side of the wall and muffled laughs, seemingly coming from a group of women washing their hands and talking in an adjacent room.

Sam's familiar with all the overdone jokes about girls visiting the bathroom way more often than guys or about them going there in hordes. And, stereotypical or not, there is some truth to those... but Sam's pretty sure it should not be this disproportional.

The man's bathroom has been empty for over five minutes. Which is way too long, considering the size of the crowd.

A motion activated light loudly going off in one of the stalls makes it even more clear that Sam's suspiciously alone in here.

He washes his hands just to do something when, finally, the door to the main part of the bar opens. A wave of sound - clinking glasses, loud conversations, a ringtone - fill the empty space until the door closes again, cutting the noise off.

Sam exhales with relief and moves to dry his hands.

Then he notices him.

The man from his porch, now standing behind him, staring straight at Sam in the mirror.

He looks even bigger now, taller, and more broad at the shoulders, his hair still covering the face like a greasy veil. His eyes pin Sam in place like a wild animal who's fight or flight instincts fired so many contradicting impulses in its brain that it ended up just freezing.

In any other situation Sam would feel vindicated. He was right! He was not safe, he was observed, and someone is going after him - for whatever reason.

He can take that useless sense of satisfaction and bring it straight to his grave.

The man doesn't move. He just looks at Sam or through him, maybe. As if he's mentally not here. Maybe his soul has also left his body, like Sam assumes his own did right now?

It's just like that day at his home. Awkward, tense silence and creepy staring. Sam feels the hairs on his arm stand up like a coordinated unit. His heart beats so fast and loud that it must echo on the bathroom's walls. If Sam's ears were not filled with ringing, he'd probably be more sure about that.

The man blinks, just once.

And something in Sam just... breaks.

When he'll think about it later he'll have no idea why he did it. But he simply turns off the water and turns towards the guy in one smooth motion.

"Oh, I know you" he says, tone casual.

The man frowns this time, still looking directly at Sam. One of his hands is hidden inside or his unzipped jacket and it twitches a little. Whatever he's holding there probably isn't a bouquet or a dove, he'll produce out of nowhere and present to Sam like a magician.

"Fancy meeting you here," he adds, like it's a normal conversation. Like they're friends from work or as if the man was his favourite cashier at a local store. "In the bar, I mean. Not in the bathroom," he jokes.

The man's face does a weird thing. It's difficult to tell what kind of emotion he wanted to convey, but he seems confused. Does he even recognize Sam? Maybe he's really not as mentally present this time?

The water drips from Sam's hands to the tiled floor - tiny rivulets running down his fingers. It's quiet again, just as before, until one of the other motion activated lights goes off in the stalls. Then the next one right after it. Click. Click.

The guy flinches twice, his hand moving under the jacket's lapels.

"Can I help you with something?" Sam asks finally. At this point it feels like his mouth is operating on its own, entirely independent on his brain. He's also there, but not really.

Maybe he's already died and hasn't realized?

"You didn't go to my meeting today." Why does he keep talking?! "Do you plan to join this Thursday?"

By some miracle, this question seems to work. The guy's eyes dart around nervously and he shivers as the last of the lights in the stalls section goes off. The room is dimly lit by now only by the small lights over the sinks. And Sam cannot ignore that they're still, somehow, alone in here.

"I'm sorry I didn't come today," the man says and he sounds sincere, though monotone. "There were too many people in there."

"Well, it's a group meeting," Sam smiles. "The people are kind of a given."

He feels like he's body is operating on a pure survival mode. It reminds him of his time in the military, in a way; of the time, where he had to put one hundred percent of his focus on staying alive and keeping other's from dying, too, but couldn't actually think about it. Because there were bullets flying by, and his hands were sticky with someone's blood, and there was a wound to stitch, and a person screaming. If he registered all of that in full, he'd just collapse on the ground, overwhelmed and paralyzed by fear. So it was easier to just switch his brain off and let the instincts and years of training take the wheel.

"If you're worried about confessing in front of others, it's okay." He keeps talking and the man's stare becomes even more intense. His eyes seem very blue, even in the poor lighting, which Sam didn't truly notice before. They look cold, but not because of the colour. More like there's not enough life in them. "There's no pressure to tell your story right away. Some people in my group love talking. Other's just sit and listen. If no one's up to talk, I take over and give a little speech," Sam grins.

And he somehow knows that if he looked into the mirror to his left, his smile would look genuine.

"I don't like talking," the man says eventually.

"I figured," is Sam's reply. "Like I said, I won't push you to say shit."

It's probably not the most professional way of phrasing it, but he's not at work and, frankly, he's about to be murdered, so it's not like they'll reprimand him for inappropriate language.

"Also," he continues, "I can give you a number to one of my colleagues who does one on one therapy sessions. That way you could..."

"No."

"...avoid groups," he finishes awkwardly. " Fair enough."

"Do you do it? The therapy? One on one, no people?"

Sam doesn't. And he'd probably lie about it, even if he did.

"Not these days. I already have a ton of work with groups. If you want to see me, specifically, you know where to find me."

Clearly.

"I do," the man confirms like it's not the creepiest thing Sam's heard in his entire life.

"Well, I have to go now," Sam tries, hoping that if he sneaks out of the bathroom fast enough this whole nightmare will finally end. If the guy's here to kill him, he's doing a pretty bad job right now, so maybe Sam could just... walk away from the situation. Surely, he won't get stabbed in the back in the middle of a bar? Right?

The guy's face contorts in a painful way and he finally removes his hand from under the jacket. Sam tenses, but the gloved palm is empty. At the same time, the guy sways a little on his feet and grabs the wet counter with both hands.

Before Sam has time to process what's happening, he's already next to the guy, holding his elbow carefully and looking straight into his eyes. The pupils are dilated and then suddenly small like a poppy seed, changing in a matter of milliseconds. Sam's never seen anything like it.

"Are you alright?" he asks unnecessarily, trying to keep the man from falling face-first into the sink.

They look at each other and the man seems panicked, more than anything. The unwashed strands of brown hair hang over his eyes, but this time Sam's too worried about him to let himself spiral again at the now familiar sight.

The counter makes a strained noise and a small crack appears on the surface. Sam imagines his own bones turning into dust under such grip and his wrist pulses with pain he felt in the background for the last few days.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, sounding more urgent this time. He doesn't even care at this point if the man's here to kill him. Sam's a paramedic first, and if someone's fighting for their life nearby, he'll always drop everything to make things better. Even if his body might end up in trashcan behind the bar for the effort.

The man blinks, licks his lips, and takes a ragged breath. There's a weird grey cast to his face now and he didn't even look that healthy to begin with.

"I have to go," he whispers finally and stands up. His forehead shines with sweat and his pupils are wide again. "Thank you," he adds quieter and walks away unnaturally fast.

He's there. And then he's not. The door closes so quietly behind him, that Sam doesn't even register the sound.

Sam sits down, not caring about the wet and disgusting floor and stares at the opposite wall in silence. In the women's bathroom someone laughs out loud and a sharp sound of the shattering glass reaches him from the bar.

It almost feels like he's lost his hearing for a while and it suddenly returns to him. As if he's been under water and came break to the surface once more.

He also tastes blood on his tongue and realizes he must have bitten it at some point without realizing. The unpleasant sting of a cut is what finally helps him to come back to himself. He cannot stay in this place a second longer.

He washes his hands again so they stop feeling as clammy and touches his face with them too. The cold water helps a lot, but his own eyes look wild in the mirror.

As he exits the bathrooms, he looks over the crowd that gathered inside since he fled the bar. Just as before, most people don't even look in his direction and he realizes that the man in a suit who stared at him earlier is gone as well.

Then, he turns around to close the door and suddenly he's faced with a bright yellow sign that warns: "Under Maintenance" in bold, black letters. An official looking printout below adds: "DO NOT ENTER".

None of those signs have been there before.

All Sam can do at this point is grip his bag, lower his head, and exit the bar as fast as possible. If he is getting strangled or stabbed today, he at least wants for it to happen in his home.

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Shoutout to tumblr for glitching a making me feel like I've lost over 700 words of a draft <3 That mini heart-attack was very necessary.

Btw, funny thing about this chapter is that I've basically spent the entire time thinking that I'm doing too much. Like... I keep pushing Sam deeper and deeper into this spiral, but nothing really happened to him. It's not a big deal, calm down, man.

But then I have to remind myself that if some suspicious looking man knocked on my door, told me that he got my address from a person I don't know, asked me where I worked, and grabbed my arm so hard it nearly broke... I would simply perish on the spot from the stress xD Or I'd spent the rest of my life paranoid, even if nothing more happened.

So I think Sam should be allowed to have a 4-day almost panic attack, as a treat.

[hypnolurker]

Sally Spirals

“So Ryan, what’s this thing that you absolutely had to show me, so urgently? It better not be some silly prank again…” Sally asked as she entered his house.

She had rushed over after receiving an urgent but suspiciously vague text from him. ‘There’s maybe a 10% chance that its actually something serious and not a dumb joke or something, but I suppose I should go just incase it is the real deal.’ she reasoned.

“Quick, its in the other room!” he urged her, visibly panicked.

Sally dashed through the hallway and into the living room where she had been ushered by the frantic Ryan. As she entered, she was expecting to see someone injured or maybe even some fragment of an alien spacecraft, the way he was acting. Instead the room appeared totally normal. It was only when she turned to face the television that she noticed something odd.

Spirals. The screen was covered in them. In various vivid shades of pink and purple. Swirling around in a strange, interconnecting pattern. It was impossible to tell where each spiral ended and the next began. A great big, churning mess infested the screen as Sally gazed at it in confusion.

“S-Spirals…?” she muttered dimly.

“Yes, aren’t they nice to stare at?” he said, now totally calm.

“Is this…a prank?” Sally asked, frustration building in her voice.

“No way. You really had to see this, Sally.” he said, sounding sincere.

Still, he had dropped his false urgency. He had clearly been acting to get her here. If he said that the urgent thing he needed her to see was some stupid spiral video she would never have come. That was obvious. She clenched her fists, still staring at the screen.

“What the hell? This is stupid! I’m not going to watch some weird spirals for you. Why would I even do that? What for?” she yelled.

“Its okay to be stupid sometimes. You don’t need a reason to relax and enjoy the pretty spirals do you? Besides, you protest and yet you haven’t turned away yet…or blinked for that matter…”

“Its…okay to be stupid? Relax…enjoy the spirals…yeah…don’t need to turn away just yet…” Sally stammered, before her face relaxed into a soft smile and her shoulders slumped.

“See…I was right. The spirals are important. Just stay for a while and stare.” he instructed her.

There was something creepy about his tone of voice, but Sally couldn’t draw her focus away from the screen to see his devious grin. She felt like she needed to escape before something even stranger happened, yet her body felt sluggish, almost locked in place. All her mental energy was fixated on the screen, she knew if she could concentrate a little she could move…but…concentrating on anything else seemed so difficult. She was watching the spirals now.

“I…no I should…I have to…um…spirals…just stare…have to stare…at the spirals.” Sally mumbled.

Somehow it was becoming difficult to keep track of the conversation. She was too focused on tracing the spirals for whatever reason. Her gaze following every swirling trail, sliding along spirals like she was being pulled ever deeper by some gravitational force. Like she was being sucked further and further into the ever flowing spiral pool right in front of her.

Ryan rested his hand on her shoulder. Gently he pushed her backwards and she stumbled for a moment before falling back into the sofa behind her. All the while, her eyes remained transfixed by the spirals. Even as she fell backwards she could do nothing but accept it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt herself sink into the plump cushions and relaxed even more. Now she could lie back and enjoy the spirals even easier. This was good.

She didn’t even notice as Ryan was fiddling with her top. There was a brief moment where she couldn’t see spirals, just a flash of white across her face, but before she could regain her sense the spirals were directly in her vision once more. She also felt slightly cooler. Then she felt a familiar sensation of relief and freedom in her chest. Sally wasn’t really sure why, she was still too lost in spirals.

It was only when she felt a finger swirl around her exposed pink nipple and the sensation sent a shiver up her spine that she realised something was wrong. Her jaw hung open and her lip quivered slightly as the pleasure drew a soft moan from her. Ryan seemed to grunt his approval at this and shifted slightly in place, but she couldn’t see what he was doing.

“Wha-what are you doing…to…my…b-b-breasts?” she gasped, still feeling the finger swirl around her nipple in slow, deliberate circles.

“Its alright Sally. Just another spiral.” he comforted the entranced girl.

“Just another spiral…” Sally repeated, satisfied. She liked spirals. This one felt especially pleasurable.

Sally’s eyelids fluttered and her eyes grew dull as she sank deeper into the spiral once more. She was now breathing so slowly and deeply, she appeared almost to be sleeping with her eyes open. Her thoughts were similarly sluggish. Forming sentences took so long that she forgot what she was thinking about by the third or fourth word. Plus, the word spiral seemed to sneak into every thought. So thinking anything coherent really wasn’t plausible for poor Sally at this point.

Ryan raised her left hand to her own breast and guided her index finger in a slow circle around her nipple, just as he had done until now. Instantly, Sally mimicked the motion perfectly, now running her finger around her nipple in that same, pleasant spiral. She moaned softly from time to time as she continued to stare at the spiral. A droplet of drool formed at the corner of her slack lips as she groaned needily.

“Spirals…feels nice…” she said quietly.

Next, Ryan’s hand snaked its way down to her crotch. Sally was too lost in the spirals to notice it unbutton her jeans and tug them down past her waist. She didn’t even notice it pushing her thin cotton panties aside. What she did notice, though, was a new spiral. A surprising and very pleasant spiral this time. Even better than the one on her chest. This spiral was happening between her legs and each complete motion sent jolts of bliss through her alongside an intense heat.

In no time, Ryan felt her pussy drooling around his fingers as he swirled them around her pink lips and tender clit in sync with her own hand on her breast. He watched her groans become deeper and more gutteral for a while, as she began to buck her hips unconsciously against his hand. Soon even this mindless motion turned into a rhythmic rotation of her hips, more of a spiral than a brainless humping movement. Sally was getting so accustomed to the spirals now.

“Good girl. Feels so good to spiral deeper and deeper huh?” he praised her.

Sally’s cunt throbbed and she smiled a dopey smile as she moaned out a dreamy “yeaaaaaahhhhhh…”

Next, Ryan moved her right hand to her crotch. Just as he had done before, he guided her into mimicking his spiral. Soon she was running her own fingers along her pussy in that same motion.

“Good girl.” he praised again.

Sally felt like she saw the spirals sparkle a little. So pretty. Her pussy and mouth were both drooling hard now and the heat was incredible. So many spirals. So very hot and lovely and fun. She was so happy now.

Ryan pushed his slick fingers into her mouth now. Sally tasted something weird, she was too dazed to understand that she her own juices were now costing her tongue as Ryan’s fingers slid further into her gaping mouth.

“Suck it, honey.” he instructed warmly.

Slowly, she wrapped her lips around them and began to suck. Just as he told her. She didn’t even process it, just followed his lead mindlessly now. As her lips formed a seal around the base of his fingers, she began to swirl her tongue around them. Another spiral! Sally was so pleased to have found another spiral, even the salty taste seemed quite pleasant now. Everything was more fun with spirals consuming her mind.

Feeling his little hypnotized plaything’s expert tongue play on his fingers, Ryan was rock hard. He could see that Sally was close to orgasm too, probably had been for a while, the way her cunt was dripping. So he slowly pulled his fingers out as he leaned into her ear and whispered.

“Good girl. I want you to do the same thing. Spiral just like that, with what I put in your mouth next.”

Sally’s head moved up and down slowly, as if nodding. “Spiral…again…yeah…” she mumbled between sensual moans.

Then she felt her head being turned slightly. Away from the spirals. She tried to keep her gaze on the screen but couldn’t help being forced to look away. When her head was turned she was met with a hard, throbbing cock pressed boldly against her lips. It was so hot on her lips! And the smell made her dizzy. Maybe she was already dizzy…

“Just like before remember, the spiral.” Ryan reminded her.

“Spiral…” she parroted, eyes wide as she gazed at the veiny rod in her face. Without another thought, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, slowly swallowing the fleshy monster whole. Once it was firmly buried in her throat and she was struggling to go any further, Sally’s tongue went back to that same spiral motion.

She could hear Ryan grunting as she continued the spiral. Her hands were still rubbing her nipple and pussy in those wonderful spirals. She was moaning into his cock like a stupid little slut, which only seemed to make it throb and twitch harder. The more it twitched, the hotter it felt. And the hotter she felt.

Even though she wasn’t looking at the screen, with her eyes closed she could still see all the spirals. If anything, they were even more vivid now. Each time his cock spasmed in her mouth they seemed to dance and glimmer. It was so beautiful. She needed to make him spasm even harder. She redoubled her efforts to make the perfect spiral with her tongue around his cock as her breathing became so ragged and her whole body itself was writhing.

Something was coming. Something big. All the spirals lead her here. She could feel it…it was…it was…

Her eyes burst open as Ryan exploded into her mouth. Hot cum pouring down her throat in a continuous flood. As if triggered by that, her own crotch exploded with heat. Her spirals became sloppy and frantic as her pussy clenched and spasmed uncontrollably and her eyes fluttered. She was cumming. Cumming and drowning in Ryan’s cum at the same time.

But the spirals. The spirals filled her vision the whole time. They had imprinted themselves directly on her retina in that moment. Her whole world was flooded with beautiful spirals and she could only gaze at them in awe as she came and swallowed in a wonderful cycle. A spiral of orgasm. It was bliss. Sally was lost in the spirals, and that was just fine.

“Uhhh…fuck. I came so much!” Ryan was a little shocked himself at just how well this had turned out.

He pulled his still hard cock out of her mouth with a pop, leaving a trail of saliva and cum down her chin as he tapped it on her still extended tongue a few times. Sally only responded with a mindless moan. She was staring forward blankly even now, though her expression was no longer the sleepy dull gaze from earlier. No, it was a distinctly eager emptiness. Like everything but pleasure had been drained from her brain. She seemed so peaceful and so slutty at the same time. Brainless and drooling cum as he rubbed his cock across her face. He felt like he was marking his property at this point, slathering her dopey face with his slick cock.

“Good girl. See, told you that you needed to see those spirals!”

Sally had only one word to say to that. The only word that seemed to stick in her newly reformatted brain.

“Spirals!” she gargled, still shivering and sweating like a needy slut.

“The good thing about spirals is…they never end.” Ryan commented, feeling the urge to start round 2. He loved spirals.

They both did.

[majaloveschris]

I do think he looked happy talking about his wedding and what little mention of 🐟 he did, especially with the go Portugal but putting aside how sincere or not that was, is pretty obvious it was something he had to mention and the rushed to move on from it and I think its because he knows how people feel about it and he cares, he cares that people will judge him from it (from now on I will asume its 100% real, the ring is there, he confirmed the wedding, called her his wife) wich to me is baffling because if you just married the love of your life and are happier than ever why would you care? He is not coming back to insta or twitter so he will not see the reactions, she can limit comments. Hollywood literaly doesnt care he is married to that kind of person, if he were a good actor nothing but that would matter so why would you care if people dont like your rs? The answer I think its because he is trying to bring back the fanbase he actively killed and so to me it looks like he would rather keep his wife as hidden as possible so he can keep his "A" list status and man that just tells a lot about him... Hence why he also spoke 30 seconds about arguably the most important day of his life till now and 10 about his dog, cause is the latter that sells. Had she been someone nice, someone to not be ashamed of (because thats the impression HE gives) he could have capitulated in the devoting husband look, but no he knows and doesnt care enough that he married her but cares enough to hide her.. Like make it make sense. Also I might said he looked happier that what he have seen him during this whole shit show but that doesnt mean he looks good.. He looks rough, the consequences of what he have done this past 2 years are catching to him fast.

I mean, he obviously cares what people think about him; all celebrities do. They live off their fans, since the only people who watch presumably every single project of theirs are their fans. He obviously wants to save what's left, but good luck for that. There are people who will never come back, but until his name is connected to people like Alba and her friends, he's going to lose fans.

If he is actually in love and happy with her (which I don't see, but okay), he doesn't need to divorce her because of other people; however, he needs to understand that not a lot of people can't support this, and mostly not because of the age gap but because of Alba's and her friends' behavior. He can do whatever he wants; there are people who are done with him, and that's it.

I definitely understand that his reputation is important for him and that whatever he says, he probably wants to stay in the industry, but the way he treated and talked about her, especially if she is the love of his life, is really interesting. I guess he had no problem appearing with Jenny, who was still married, by the way. If you love somebody so much that you want to marry them, then be proud of them. I'm not saying they should be out every single day kissing and hugging or whatever, but whenever we see them (in real time, not in a staged photo), he seems so distant. Dropping her hands in NYC, not letting her walk the red carpet, not holding her hands, saying weird things about her, like she is really into other people's energy. If this was love at first sight, and they knew they were in for the long ride, then he probably knew he's going to marry her, so he knew people were going to see her a lot of times, and they had to get used to it. So I don't really understand this whole hiding and breadcrumbing bullshit.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Enhypen (Thoughts on title tracks) Energy Reading

So, the first thing I asked is their thoughts on their music at the moment. I got the 8 of Pentacles, not the greatest card to get. I mean there is a lot of hard-work and details that go into their music. It is kind of like the music is part of work, but not feeling much of a connection as a whole right now, to their music. But they definitely put in the effort to make the right type of music. I am hearing, it is all about the details, so yeah. I also added some other songs of theirs's as well, along with the TT's, like the Dark Moon songs.

Given-taken (Transformation)-Yeah, this makes sense, all things had changed for them, it was their debut, a new start for them, but it was a bit chaotic for them, but they were happy to finally be able to perform. Things could have been a bit messy with the song, or just a lot of changes to it. I mean this was covid time, so yeah, things were all over the place when they debuted with this song. I am honestly not getting too much of the song, but the situation around it with this one. Not sure they feel anything for the song tbh.

Drunk-Dazed (Release)-This song felt cathartic for them. They may have felt they can release themselves with this one. They didn't feel too limited with this one. It is like the dance moves for this, felt freeing for them, weird message, but I go with how I feel and what I get. I am just seeing the dancing, like they may really like the choreography of this one. Not sure I am getting much about the music, but the they like the performance aspect of this.

Tamed-Dashed (Ace of Fire)-Yeah, not a fan of this song, sorry, I think I listened to this once or twice in full, but they seem to like it. It sparked some creativity and passion in them, surprised by this tbh. It was a fun song to do. It was a nice opportunity. It seems they enjoyed this one for the time. Not sure they enjoy it much now. Because ace of fire just gives me, this was fun, but then the energy dies down quickly.

Blesses-Cursed (10 of Air)-Why am I getting all these cards of freedom though? It is like there is a sense of freedom they get when they release music and get to perform them. This song may have been a struggle for them to put together. There seemed to be a lot of negative thoughts attached to this one. This one was an ending of a cycle for them.

Future Perfect (Pass the Mic) (Page of Swords)-This was not the card I would expect for this song at all, like what is this!? Hmm, it seems they may have been uncertain about this one, a little uncomfortable with this one. It could have been mentally challenging for them. Also, a lack of preparation for this one. I feel they were too in their heads and analytical with this one.

Bite Me (The Hermit)-Ya'll why do they get the hermit for this!? Like why, what is this boy? *sighs* This is my fave! Their energy is so weird with their music. I would think this one would get a good card tbh. Maybe this song helped them learn about themselves individually. Maybe it gave them some sort of identity, but that seems weird to me. Not sure why isolation keeps coming in my mind, but not sure what that can mean, yeah, don't get this.

Sweet Venom (3 of Pentacles)-I feel this one should have been for Bite Me, but whatever, my bias is showing. They may have liked who they worked with here. They felt it was a nice collaborative effort with this song. They feel they were able to use their skills and talents with this one. It seems they liked the effort put into this one.

XO (King of Swords)-How this group has barely any Wands or Cups here though. I am surprised by this one too, like this is a lovey dovey romantic song, why I am getting the KOS energy here? I love these boys, but this energy makes no sense. Is the KOS that dude, can't even remember his name? The singer they worked with. I mean, the group could have learned a lot from him, and they have respect for him, and his music. They may have liked the lyrics to the song. Whoever this is, they had a lot of say in the direction of this song, the boys had little input tbh. A lot of sword energy pertaining this group and their music tbh.

One in a Billion (3 of Wands)-Oh yay wands!, but this is a slow moving, kind of stagnant wands to get. They may see this song growing. They can see the potential of this song. They can see themselves performing this at concerts. I am just like getting, they are looking ahead. I don't see them really paying attention to this song, just on to the next. This song may have been a slow process for them as well, also did they travel, or work with someone long distance for this one? I know I should know as a fan, but I don't focus on every detail of my faves. I am a fan from afar lol

Criminal Love (The Star)-I feel they may like this one. From the image of this card, it is like they pour themselves into this song. Is this the song that is really hard for them to do? I should know this as a fan, but I don't observe my faves like that really? Also, I can't think when channeling. I am just getting them sweating a lot, like they pour their sweat and tears into this song. The song is pretty exhausting for them. It is like they pour their all into this song. Once again, this is more about the performance, than the song. I'll be real, there is a disconnect between them and their songs musically, but not performance wise. Which makes sense, since I am pretty sure the members would prefer to do songs that fit their style, because their songs ain't it for them.

Fatal Trouble (5 of Swords)-Once again, another Sword card, this group is very analytical, logical, and matter of fact with their music. There may have been many mistakes with this one, they may have had to redo this one a lot, there could have been disagreements when it came to this song. I sense there was drama and fighting with this one, if it was the members or the company, but this is about the members, so yeah. Differences in opinion, they don't have a lot of say, so, maybe some members made mistakes, and that annoyed some members, maybe that started fights, once again, I am getting more about performance. Because I am kind of seeing them in the rehearsal room, so it is more about the performance here.

Alright, well that was a trip lol Yeah, not much passion or emotions when it comes to their music, but that makes sense, since they don't contribute to their TT's lyrically or compose. But still love them and the hard work they do to put on a good performance. It seems they're more focused on that. Anyway, these are fun. I am thinking of doing BTS next!

[reeama-the-mage]

Hey hey does anyone wanna see my headcanons about how the dead boy detectives crew and the Find Us Alive crew would interact? *vibrating at the speed of light*

Too bad ur getting them anyways!!!!!! U clicked on this read more uve become a willing participant can't leave now, only the main crews or else this post would really get too long

Generally I think Lancaster and Love might b the only ones actually able to see the ghost boys? But I'm saying they all can bcuz being in site 107 couhts as enough supernatural experience

OK ok first of all my favs!!!!!!!!! I think Charles Rowland and Nari Love would b besties bcuz pls❤️❤️❤️❤️ uhhhhhh in actuality I think there'd b alot of conflict there bcuz Charles would b trying to exude nice and polite energy and Love would Not Trust It she gets loud and shout and Charles would not react well methinks I don't think they'd start like physically fighting a. because Charles has a decent amount of restraint and b. because Love doesn't have any iron (shed try to punch him tho, love her) and eventually theyd figure it out and eventually I think they'd b making real bad jokes 2gether and talking about how weird (affectionate) their partners r

Harley is adopting Edwin as soon as he finds out about this boy and his languages, Edwin resigned himself to this fate w/ his even ancient Aramaic is easy w/ a bit of study line, Harley is explaining mandarin conjugation to him and Edwin will deal w/ it politely while having no idea what he's talking about bcuz this boy deals mostly in languages 4 magic and mandarin is not one of them!!!! (or maybe it is let Edwin and Harley b nerds 2gether 2k24)

Niko is #1 Kleinves shipper ik this in my heart she is getting 2 the bottom of whatever happened there and trying to make these ladies communicate!!!!!!! (She'd also b a harlanc shipper but this ain't about them) After she figures out that she can't force them 2 communicate she and Klein r watching anime/reading manga 2gether, Klein has been in the site 2 long!!!! She needs more to read and probably Nikos stuff isn't to her usual taste but she will read it

Poor girl Crystal is over here in the corner trying to make conversation w/ Raddagher and thoroughly failing, eventually they end up comparing experiences of being a surveillance officer (knowing everything about everyone) to being a psychic (knowing everything about everyone) they're akward but get along well enough

Lancaster and Charles would b friends :D Charles would like Lancasters ugly jorts and they would both b trying 2 b very smiley literally they're both trying to keep spirits up and pushing their own problems as far back as possible they're so similar and they're NOT calling eachother out on the hypocrisy (Lancaster is taking some time for himself and Charles is not a therapist he's just emotional support)

Edwin would find Raddagher endearing like he finds Niko endearing, but to a lesser extent, I think he'd like to chill out in the surveillance room (I think Crystal and Niko would like it too, at some point Love starts banning ppl 4 Raddagher cause it's getting too crowded 4 her) Raddagher might talk about sailing and Edwin might talk about sea monsters and they'd both nod and be like cool. and then move on

Crystal and Harley r swapping so many stories ik it Harley is like the stories guy Harley would tall about some weird bullshit that happened on site five years ago and Crystal would pull up a chair like tell me more until she has all the gossip, and then Crystal will complain to Harley about how annoying Charles and Edwin are and about the time she tried to go to hell and it didn't even work but hey she got her memories back atleast but like her memories suck and Harley would nod along while internally freaking tf out

Niko and Lancaster r teaming up, what r they teaming up 4? No one knows (Lancaster is telling Niko about Raddlove and Niko thinks they're very sweet) I think Lancaster and Niko as a team could b scary and chaotic and they deserve to be

Charles and Raddagher r not saying a word the entire time they interact Charles will try, Raddagher will react grumpy and then Charles will do his own stuff in her presence for like an hour before fucking off, they both think the other are okay (Raddagher's thought on Charles "He's fine", Charles' thought on Raddagher "she's aces") I feel like there's a mutual understanding of Don't mess w/ my ppl I don't mess w/ ur ppl while the groups interact

Charles and Harley r complaining 2gether, Charles complains about not being able to eat spaghetti while Harley understands this as The Worst Thing that can happen to a person and Harley complains about botany while Charles swears they're evil and tries to hold back a laugh

Edwin and Klein in eachothers presence would b a little bit unbearable❤️ I think Edwin would b interested in what research does and Klein would b interested in magic rocks and theyre badgering eachother 4 information at very high speeds

Lancaster and Edwin r having v deep emotional conversations about repressing who u r and how it hurts u in the long run and how they'd go thru everything bad in their life again as long as it brought them back to this point w/ these ppl, or Lancaster is trying to give that ghost red bull (who doesn't want to see a ghost on red bull? and tbh this ghost could use it)

Niko and Love would b so cool, I think Niko would LOVE Dumptruck (Edwin would find Dumptruck fascinating, Charles would b a bit put off by him, Crystal wouldn't care) and I think she'd help Love remember words when she's having a hard time

Niko and Raddagher would respectfully not interact that much, I don't think they'd dislike eachother theyre just both way too blunt to develop deep emotional connections I think

Charles and Klein keep accidentally stumbling into emotional conversations they don't MEAN to but one second theyre chatting shit about "kids these days" and talking about the 80s and the next Klein is talking about how her impulsiveness endangers ppl whenever she's put in charge and Charles is talking about how he's scared he's just like his dad and holy shit it's 1 am and one of them needs sleep