#but as long as we are making decent steps forward

[wirewitchviolet]

So I was already sitting down to ramble about something, and turns out this post and this big reply under it tie in pretty well, so, here we go.

There are enough bespoke issues trans people justifiably feel very passionate about, and enough different experiences different trans people have that it is damn easy to end up in a huge fight because one person tried to make a nice simple statement for a clueless cis audience, but viewed through another person's lens it reads like some kind of attack. And it certainly never helps that bigots are actively out there constantly trying to co-op messages and sew infighting that any statement no matter how clear and good WILL get weaponized.

Before I get into the above, the go-to example I was planning to use was "you don't have to transition to be trans." There's a ton of ways you can read that which are great and worth echoing. For instance, "hey, if you've worked out that people got your gender wrong, you are trans and can come hang out in the trans clubhouse and ask for advice and all that without proving it through medical intervention."

Or, "hey don't be a weird gatekeeping creep who only recognizes people's gender if they don't jump through a particular medical hoop like taking a particular medication or get a particular surgery, which might not be something they even want due to risks, side effects, or not seeing it as a problem to begin with, and/or might not be something they CAN do anything about, because the typical medical treatment would not work on them for any number of reasons/is prohibitively expensive/too socially dangerous to go forward with in their current situation/is only even done by like a couple dozen specialists in the world who are booked out years in advance and many of whom actively discriminate against all sorts of potential patients."

You can see how it's nice to have a short catchy phrase. BUT it's absolutely a reality that awful bigots these days are going with the wildly bad faith and not even remotely true reading of "it's OK to deny transition-related care to trans people, because they don't actually NEED it!"

And you know, regardless of where you're encountering this phrase, you should always bear in mind those points about being totally valid and welcome in the community without a signed doctor's note, and how it's completely valid to be, oh, a woman who's hung like a horse and proud of it and such women shouldn't be treated like they need to go see someone about that, give people the benefit of the doubt that they're using it in such a sense if there's any chance they are, and at the same time be on the lookout for bad faith creeps misusing it and taking whatever steps are necessary to prevent them from to or about any trans person again unless/until they somehow manage to stop being a hateful piece of garbage and somehow become a decent human being.

Phew. All THAT out of the, way, I take a fair deal of issue with seeing the comment above me saying "the 'not transgender' people in the poster are clearly intersex" because holy hell is that a bad faith reading. All the concerns regarding intersex kids following that jumping off point are super valid and worth mention, of course. Doctors are constantly looking at baby's junk, going "huh, that doesn't look right, lemme do a quick surgery I'm not even necessarily trained in to get this looking more like whichever configuration I personally prefer the aesthetics of here, that probably won't cause any long term memory problems or trauma and there's almost a 50/50 shot I'm guessing right about what this kid'll want things looking like down here in a couple decades!" And that is just incredibly messed up. As is the practice of just throwing, say, testosterone boosters at someone perceived to be a teenage boy who doesn't seem "manly enough" to someone, which is a general queer kid concern, sure.

But none of that is going on in this poster. What's going on is kids getting hit with puberty-related symptoms they do not want (specifically boobs beards and voice changes), clearly stating this, and asking for medical help to make them not happen. If we wanna play Occam's Razor with the kids plainly labelled as "not transgender," boys growing breasts is called gynecomastia and a quick Google search confirms that... it is completely useless as a search engine because it's giving me 20 conflicting reputable-looking sources ranging from 1% to 70% of teenage boys. Facial hair on cis women is also really freaking common, to a point where it being relatively rare if you're white specifically makes it feel more like a racism thing than anything.

The real thing to remember though is that the obvious reason this poster exists is to get people who are completely uneducated on any of this and have been steadily exposed to propaganda from transphobes for their entire lives to the point where they have a hard time imagining trans people as actual human beings to consider the concept of HRT from a clear perspective by taking us out of the equation for a moment and just making them try to empathise with kids dealing with some of the same stuff, and it has to make that point in less time than it takes someone to finish walking past this telephone pole or wherever else someone might place this. And... OK if I'm really honest it's probably still too wordy and reliant on people having SOME idea of what being trans even means, but it's pretty good within those restrictions! Don't overthink it! Really don't project stuff that absolutely is not actually on there onto it! Focus more on actual bigots and doing something about what they're doing than nitpicking people who are doing good effective activism work you'd phrase differently!

This is the first time i’ve seen a pro-trans poster in a long time and i hope whoever put it up is having a good day, it made me feel a little less alone.

Hamilton, New Zealand

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 39: Heavy Clouds

Chapter Word Count: 5,247

TW

(Spoilers but PLEASE) Decently graphic descriptions of TORTURE (not limited to: knives involved, electrocution, strangling, claustrophobia) Bringing up Mouse's trauma. Chapter…12 is brought up, I'm sorry Mingyu Mouse fights back a little

Author's Note:

I am....sorry not sorry for this. Nothing bad ever happens in BSH. I'm going to hide now :D Thanks to @pinkskiddo for being my beta reader and hating me every step of the way!

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Pacing, that was what Jeonghan has been going for the last three. Fucking. Hours. 

He started in the office upstairs after the meeting with the group, aimlessly walking around past whoever was left. A majority of their allies had gone out to search while he and Seokmin were ordered to stay behind. Quickly he got bored of the same four walls and made his way downstairs, walking around the outer wall of the warehouse floor. His nail beds were picked and bitten from his anxiety, every single worse case scenario running through his head in his worry. 

I need to get out of here. He told himself, moving to nip and pull at the skin of his lips. 

It was probably easy to slip out unnoticed from the warehouse. The one major thing he had to worry about was running into any of SVT, specifically Seungcheol. Standing near the foot of the stairs, face twisted in thought, Jeonghan had two ideas running in his head. 

One, as he thought earlier, he could walk out the doors and one could stop him. Definitely one of the perks of being a boss within SVT. 

Two, he gets someone upstairs to go with him. Siyeon was still up there with Wonwoo and Yeosang, hoping to find a glimpse of Mouse anywhere within the city. Sona…Yeah he didn’t know where she was. Once she showed up and got orders, he hadn’t seen her. There was also the fact that Seokmin was sulking upstairs, quietly boiling in guilt and anger. 

Scanning the nearly empty warehouse floor, Jeonghan made up his mind and hurried up the stairs. He popped his head into the office and called for Seokmin to talk in private for a moment. The other looked confused yet still left the office. 

Closing the door firmly behind Seokmin, Jeonghan grabbed his arm and dragged him down the stairs. “Hurry up, we need to get to the store room.” 

“What-”

“Do you want to go find Mouse or not?” Glaring over his shoulder to Seokmin, he released the other’s arm while he nodded. “Then grab a gun and let's get out of here before anyone realizes we are gone. Leave your phone here so no one can track us. 

Making their way into the store room, Jeonghan tossed his phone on a random table and went for the gun wall. He grabbed a double holster that went over his shoulder, securing it tightly then loaded two light weight handguns into their slots. Seokmin did similarly, grabbing three extra gun magazines of bullets and handing some over to Jeonghan.

“We can head out the back and grab your car.” Jeonghan adjusted his jacket, one that was actually left at the warehouse, long with thick material to stay warm, making sure his weapons were hidden. 

Placing his phone on the table, Seokmin nodded, grabbing a knife and a flashlight as well. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Peeking out of the room, Jeonghan made his way to the back door with Seokmin. He still couldn’t find Sona as he walked quickly but no one upstairs could see them from the area they walked. He sighed a shallow breath when they made it out without anyone spotting them. He didn’t know why he was so worried though. He was a leader of the group, but…Seungcheol’s words were more law in actuality. Everyone still answered to him. 

They successfully got within a few hundred feet of Seokmin’s car, eager to get on the road, but Sona came into view, stepping out from behind the vehicle. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she stepped forward, leaning herself against the driver’s side door. 

“Mind telling me where you’re going?” She tilted her head, drumming her fingers on her arms. 

“Out,” Was all Jeonghan answered, sliding his hands into his pockets. “If you will excuse us, Sona, we have someone to find.” 

“Thought King said to stay put.” She didn’t look impressed at all. 

“Sona, do not patronize me right now-” 

“Kinda hard to leave when Tempest forgot his keys.” She raised said set of keys up, clicking her tongue. “I’m driving. Boss man ordered me to stay back as well.” 

“No-” 

“Do you want to run into King? I know which district he took with some of the guys.” 

Sona unlocked the doors, sliding into the driver’s seat with ease. Jeonghan took the passenger side and Seokmin grumbled that he was in the backseat of his own car. 

“By the way, you guys aren’t as slick as you think.” 

“Yeah yeah, shut up. Now help me find Mouse and I’ll raise your salary.” 

“On it, boss.”

You were unsure of how long you had been standing in the dark. 

Nightmare , as you had come to learn your torturer’s name, was true to his word, not wanting to waste any time. 

After the cut to your cheek, his actions only started to ramp up. You went from sitting in the old metal chair to standing with your bound hands above your head, connected to a hook keeping you upright. Your feet barely touched the floor on your tiptoes and the rope continued to dig harshly into your wrists until they started to bleed. Joker had one of their underlings get another bucket of water and threw it on you again. 

The shivering that you couldn’t control had used so much of your energy to stay warm but it did nothing to help. Dickhead, as you called Nightmare going forward, got an electric powered generator and jumper cables with wet sponges clamped to them. With you standing, he slashed your shirt off with the pocket knife from earlier, the blade catching on your skin and leaving a cut to your stomach. You groaned in pain, jaw clenched tightly to the point you thought your teeth might chip. 

“You’ve got quite the history here.” Joker started, sitting down in the chair you were in previously. He crossed his legs and leaned back, obnoxiously if you might add, and raised a brow at the information in hand.

You didn’t give him an answer, breathing deeply through your nose and watching him past your eyelashes. He flipped through some papers, an annoying hum floating its way across the room from him. Dickhead stepped closer, cable tongs in hand with what you assumed was rubber gloves covering up to his forearms. 

“It wasn’t easy to find some of this information,” He started, stopping on one particular page. “Y/N L/N. Your records have a lot of redactions too.” 

The scoff you let out was followed by a huff, trying to adjust your wrists to relieve some pressure but your footing was hard to find, making it hard to find any comfort or relief. 

“And somehow you went from a normal person with a tragic past to getting all tangled up in SVT, didn’t you? How did you manage to do that?” Joker narrowed his eyes when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.” 

Dickhead jabbed the wet sponge against your base side, holding it there. The muscles in that area tensed up and the painful vibration of electricity shot through your system. You let out a cry of pain that had your breath catching in your throat, unable to move away from it to escape the pain.

“Will you answer me?” He asked over your shouts, apathetic to the situation. “Anything?” 

“Fuck off!” You yelled, thrashing until Joker gave a signal for his companion to stop. An angered roar left you, quickly taking in air to fill your burning lungs. 

Shaking his head, Joker clicked his tongue like a disappointed parent, a long sigh leaving him. “Oh, Mouse, so far we have been so kind to you, haven’t we, Nightmare?” 

“Very.” Once more, the sponge was pressed into your side with the second joining the other side.

The entirety of your body tensed up. You screamed loudly, muscles twitching and seizing. The moment the cables were removed, you fell limp, unable to hold yourself up. The pain in your wrists felt welcoming compared to the numbness and weakness that washed through you. There was a faint tingling where you were shocked, the unstable racing of your heart beating out of your chest and up into your throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as your head hung down. Dizziness swirled your vision, the floor and walls felt like it was moving in a million different directions. The ache in your side stung when you managed to shift but you didn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing you weep. 

They exchanged a few hushed words before you were left alone, the lights flicking off. Left in complete darkness, you allowed yourself a moment of reprieve, hoping to be prepared for whatever they inflicted upon you next. 

All you heard from the last however long was the mind numbing dripping of water from that leaky pipe. Your throat was dry and every breath felt like sandpaper, scratchy and irritated. The room was freezing, on top of being doused twice previously in water and your energy was rock bottom. 

“You’ll be okay, Mouse.” You whispered into the blank space. “You have to be okay. They won’t kill you. They can’t. It isn’t their endgame.” 

Your eyelids felt heavy, threatening to close as the exhaustion took over. You had little to no feeling in your arms from them being raised for so long, pins and needles stinging the nerves in your upper limbs. The headache transitioned long ago into a migraine, and the pain at your waist continued to tingle and sting in the chilled air. 

While you should have been worried for yourself, you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying about everyone else. 

Was Seokmin okay after finding out you had been taken? How were Jeonghan and Joshua holding up? Had any of them got any rest? Were they eating at all? How were the rest of the groups holding up? Were they close to finding you? 

You craved the safety of being around them. Their presence was what held you together when everything went wrong and right now you were alone, holding onto hope. There were cracks in the foundation of your stability. Mentally you could hold it together longer, but you were concerned of how long that hold out would be. Physically…that troubled you more, already feeling sluggish. If they came in and unhooked you, there would be no stopping you from crumbling to the floor.

Letting your eyes shut, you took in slow breaths, grounding yourself to the reality of the situation weighing down on you. 

“Have you thought about what your future would have been if you hadn’t met us?” Joshua ran his hand up and down your spine, laying on the couch in your apartment, a calm weekday night. 

You laughed, nodding your head. “At first, yeah, but not for a little bit now. I had this decent life plan the moment I left college, like one of those dreams that manifest from watching too many rom-com movies.” 

Joshua joined in your laughter, resting his cheek over the top of your head. “Tell me about it, please?” 

“When I first moved into my old apartment, I told myself three things.” You thought back, unable to stop the giggle from bubbling out. “First, I wanted to steadily climb the ladder at work to live a comfortable life where I didn’t need to worry too much about money.” 

“Got it, so you kinda have that with us.” Wrapping both arms around you, Joshua placed a kiss on your forehead. “Minus the work ladder thing, of course. Sounds boring.”

“Second…my plan was to find myself a significant other after I had the stability I craved. I remember wanting the stupid suburb house with the stupid little white fence.” You rested your chin on his chest, seeing him try not to laugh. It did sound a little dumb. “Number three…” 

Noticing your hesitation, Joshua raised a brow, pouting a little. “Number three?” 

Pushing yourself up, you straddled his hips, smiling to yourself as you shook your head. “I wanted to get married one day… Give myself a life I didn’t know I wanted until I was mostly free of my past. I…wanted a family too so I could be the parent mine weren’t to me.” 

Joshua stared up at you, wide eyed but a glimmer of fondness shining. He gazed over your face, placing his hands gently on your hips before that loving, familiar smile spread on his lips. He scoffed but his grin continued to grow wider until he couldn’t any further. 

“What?” 

“Now that you are here with us, what do you think now?” 

Reaching out, you pushed some hair back from his face and cupped his cheeks. “Well, I kinda have one and I pretty much have the second one, times two.” 

“And number three?” Leaning up on his elbows, he tilted his head to the side. 

“Hm…” You smirked, biting your lip to hold in your snicker. “You’ll have to fight Jeonghan for that one…Maybe even Seungcheol.” 

“Ew, gag.” Joshua fake gagged and you fell forward onto him, wheezing out a laugh.

“Need to spend less time with Seungkwan and Mingyu, babe.” 

—

“Y/N?” Your head snapped up to the sound of Jongho’s voice from behind you. Just as you had much earlier in the night, you watched as he crawled out the window to join you on the roof, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and another one in hand. “It’s freezing out here, dude.” 

“If it’s so cold, you didn’t have to join me. You know I don’t mind sitting out here.” You took the blanket he offered either way, letting him settle close to your side. “Can’t sleep?” 

“Not really. I tried for a while but I kept tossing and turning.” He tucked his knees in towards his chest, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. There was a dark bruise already blooming on his cheek. You grabbed his chin and turned his face towards you to see it better. “I didn’t wash the dishes right so he hit me.” 

You didn’t hesitate to throw your arm over his shoulder and pulled him close. He, though typically adverse to affection, leaned his head on your shoulder. You could feel his posture slump and a sigh puffed out in the cold air. 

“I’m sorry, hun.” You rested your cheek against the top of his head, “I’m gonna get us out of here, promise.” 

“How do you think you’ll do that?” 

“Your pick; bottle rocket, sugar in the gas tank, vegetable oil in the engine, or calling child services.” You were glad to hear his giggle, a big grin on his face. “Or I could do all over them at once and really fuck them over.” 

“Bottle rocket in the exhaust pipe?” He suggested and you laughed quietly, not wanting to wake your foster parents. 

“I can definitely start there. It will take some time to get it since I got to be sneaky.” Ruffling his hair, you sighed, leaning your head back to stare up at the sky. “We’ll be okay, Jongho.” 

“What if they separate us?”  He sounded worried. “What then?” 

“Then…” You tried to think of the best thing to say at the moment. “Then you face the world with your head held high and remember that you are a smart kid. You make sure you keep your grades up so you get into a good college to be successful in the future.” 

“Do you think I’ll ever see you again?” Jongho lifted his head from your shoulder, wide eyes staring back with worry. 

“Yeah, you will definitely see me in the future.” Internally you weren’t so confident but you pinched his cheeks, seeing him cringe and swat your hands away. “I’ll make sure we see each other in the future. And I sure as hell hope fate helps with that.” 

“I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.” 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Jongho.” 

They had been out searching for hours . 

Joshua’s skin was crawling with well hidden anxiety but Seungcheol was fuming every step of the way. While he attempted to keep a level head, Cheol wasn’t hesitating to tear things apart as time went on. The leader would enter a space with authority and at the drop of a hat would have him and their men that they brought along trashing a space before moving on when Mouse wasn’t found. 

“It’s been hours, how has no one found any signs of her?!” For the first time, Seungcheol vocalized his anger, standing in the most recent drug den they raided. 

Joshua ran a hand through his already tousled and knotted hair, sighing for the hundredth time within the last two hours. Leaning himself against a half broken table after checking its stability, he placed his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths. Cheol’s anger was palpable and it was starting to get to Joshua and pull at his last string of resolve.

“We have hundreds searching the city, we’ve been searching. It would be a good idea if we branch out from the city and look at surrounding areas.” Joshua heaved out the suggestion, throwing a hand up in thought. “I don’t know where else we can look around here, Cheol.” 

Seungcheol pulled his phone out and made a call to Wonwoo, asking him to contact half their help to expand their search further out. Joshua watched as his friend paced, pulling at his hair, shaking with unraveled concern and frustration. 

“What do you mean Seokmin and Jeonghan are gone?” He stopped his pacing, confused as his eyebrows furrowed together. “Where-? Huh? With? Okay…Fuckers…Just, tell them not to be fucking idiots and that Sona is in charge of them- Yeah, just keep me updated on anything you guys find and I’ll keep you updated here.” 

As he hung up, Joshua scoffed, shaking his head. “What did you expect them to do? Listen in a situation like this?” 

“No but- I don’t know- At least they have one person with them…” Seungcheol grumbled, still fuming down at his phone. “We are going on hour seven and nothing. How does someone simply disappear without a trace?” 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Joshua let his eyes well with tears, jaw clenched uncomfortably tight. He dropped his head, raising a hand to rub and message at the back of his neck. His shoulder, neck, and back were tense, moving wasn’t the best idea but he was running on waning adrenaline, maybe a coffee from the morning, and anxiety. The necklace Mouse had given him for Christmas rested heavy around his neck as he felt the metal against his hand. Joshua let himself trace the chain and brought it to his lips, gently kissing the pendent. 

They were going to find Mouse, he had been chanting it every building they entered into and tore top to bottom. No figurative stone was going to go unturned but he worried for the state she’d be in once they got her home. While he knew Mouse was strong and could withstand a decent amount, what were the people that took her submitting to her to? Was she holding onto hope like they were trying to? It was getting difficult to keep his head on straight. 

Cheol rested himself against the broken desk beside Joshua, shoulders slumping. “I’m starting to think like Han, Shua.” 

“Yah,” Joshua’s head shot up, barely holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “Don’t you start with that shit either. Come on, man.” 

“I-” Cheol paused, raising his hands to his face and sniffling, which caught Joshua off guard. “Fuck, man. I can’t fall apart right now.” 

“Do not-” Joshua shuttered, unable to keep his voice stable. He let the tears he was holding in slip down his cheeks. 

Seungcheol threw an arm over Joshua’s shoulder and tugged him into his side. Though quiet, they cried in relative silence, letting the stress of the situation take hold of their emotions. The grip on Joshua’s shoulders was tight as Cheol muttered something he couldn’t make out, maybe a prayer, grounding the two of them to reality. Neither of them heard the footsteps approach but a voice caught their attention. 

“ King, Hades ?” There was hesitation in their crew member’s voice, a nervous shift to his gaze. “We- Uh…The entire place is fully clear, even the underground sections. Whenever you are, we are all ready to move out again.” 

Almost instantly, Joshua straightened up, wiping his face and stood. “We’ll meet you out at the cars, clear out.” 

Once he stepped out and walked away, Cheol sighed.

“I don’t think she is strong enough like the rest of us, she probably can’t withstand anything they might do to her.” Seungcheol ran both hands over his face, collecting his emotions as he stood, shaking his head. 

“Hey, man, don’t underestimate my girlfriend.” Joshua’s attempt at a joke was met with a roll of the leader’s eyes. He brought the pendant on his lips again, saying a silent prayer for her safety. “She will be okay. Mouse is a fighter. I’m sure she is giving whoever took her a run for their money.”

“I hope you are right on this one.”

“All you have to do is answer the question, Y/N…” 

“And like I keep saying,” You spit out a decent amount of blood, thrashing despite your arms still being hung above your head, “Sit on a cactus, suck a dick, and choke on it.” 

Beside you, Dickhead clicked his tongue, ready to aim another punch to your side. It would make for the tenth punch or kick he had landed as far as you counted. Both sides of your abdomen and the left side of your face hurt like hell. You didn’t even want to imagine how you looked…Hell, you were having difficulty keeping your left eye open from the hits to your face. Joker stopped him though, standing up and strolling over towards you slowly, shaking his head. 

“You know,” He took a knife from the other man’s belt and unsheathed it. “You are holding on much longer than any of us expected. Here I thought you'd break a long time ago, but here we are… Is it the trauma from finding your parents dead from an OD?” 

You swallowed thickly and tried not to say anything to his inquiry, needing to breathe through your mouth from how bad your face and nose felt. With the knife in hand, biting down on the inside of your cheek, unsure of his reactions in comparison to his counterpart seeing as he only asked questions so far. 

“Or…was it when you snuck into that building and saw SVT?” 

You stopped breathing, snapping your mouth shut. 

How fucking long had they been watching you? 

“You saw, what? Two people get shot?” He started to circle your hanging form like you were prey, toying with the knife. “Or…was it when Mingyu was shot?” 

That…yeah, that struck a cord inside that had you snarling at him. “Keep his name out of your mouth, pig!” 

“Oh~” He chuckled lowly, tilting his head to the side. “Protective, aren’t we?” 

Joker leaned close, using the knife to brush your hair back. “Would you like to know a secret?” 

When you gave no reaction, he brought his lips close to your ear. “We gave the order to shoot first.” 

If you were an old cartoon character, steam would be blowing out your ears comically. 

You pulled your head away from him before quickly slamming the side of your head into his face. There was the telltale, unmistakable cracking sound and he yelled out at the unexpected pain. Your head spun from the nonstop migraine you’ve had pounding since you first woke up, yet the pain was welcoming compared to their treatment. Your cheek and eye area were pulsing, definitely swollen, along with the pain in your side from the electrocution. Dickhead was having fun using you as a punching bag when you didn’t answer Joker . 

“You…are going to regret that.” Joker got into your field of vision properly, eyes full of rage. 

His nose was broken if the cracking of bone wasn’t enough, slightly tilted to the side, crooked. Blood trailed down from his nostrils and into his mouth, making him spit off to the side. 

Harshly, his hands jutted out and wrapped around your neck, sneezing and cutting off your air flow. You gasped for air, struggling against your confines and swinging your legs out to get him away but it was useless. His grip tightened and the longer he strangled you, the more your vision started to get hazy around the edges. The moment your eyes started to roll back, on the verge of passing out, and your thrashing became sluggish, Joker released his hold. 

The rush of air that filled your lungs was enough to make you go limp. Your head was light in the worst way and your extremities were shaky. Blood rushing through your ears hindered you from hearing their conversation, not that there was a care to give other than breathing. You did notice one of them move before the chain holding the hook up was loosened and your body crumbled unceremoniously to the floor. 

Your bound wrists were grabbed as someone dragged you across the ground, the half broken ceiling lights fading in and out of your clouded vision. There was barely any energy left to struggle, too lethargic and woozy to figure out what they were doing with you. Whoever was dragging you dropped your arms and another pair of hands were tying your legs together.

You tried to focus your eyes on one of the men in the room, their words murky and distant but quickly stopped to save your strength. The light above that stared down at you was blocked by Kihyun’s big fucking head and his ugly ass smirk. He said something you couldn’t hear so you didn’t provide a response, only for a swift kick to land against the side of your abdomen and the pain had you curling in on yourself. From the feeling alone, you had a good handful of broken ribs, at least you were feeling something at this point. 

A few sets of hands grabbed you next, hauling you up from the cold ground and carrying you somewhere. You were dead weight in their arms but they didn’t seem to struggle, being tossed in a crate or box. Furrowing your brows together, you let your good eye flit around, confusion flooding your mind. 

“Wait-” The moment everything clicked, you cleared your throat, rough and frail from Joker’s strangling. Two unknown men went to close the top and you attempted to set up, shaking your head quickly. 

“Wait no-” Someone’s hand forcibly pushed you down and the box was closed and locked shut. You beat your hands against the top, darkness shrouding you. “Let me out!” 

The words had no force behind them, weak screams only bouncing off the walls of your confines. Continuously, you beat your restrained hands and feet against the top and sides as the panic rose in your chest. There wasn’t a way to calm yourself, breathing coming out in short, sobbing gasps. At some point you couldn’t make out any of the words you desperately tried to babble out. You hopelessly dropped your limbs, praying your eyes adjusted to the limited light soon. 

You couldn’t shift comfortably – or at all –, knees bent up with no way to straighten out. The only soothing thing was the cool metal against your barely clothed back, which gave you an answer of what kind of box you were in. The anxiety of being locked in used up the rest of your energy, your throat and sides hurt horrible, and your waning brain power struggled to take in the situation Monsta X placed you in. 

As your eyes adjusted, you noticed the decent sized air holes from what you could tell, but they were near your feet so you couldn’t look out and investigate around. Any attempt to focus on hearing anything came up short, your ears hadn’t stopped ringing. Raising your wrists enough to see them, you determined there was no chance to get free, not even your legs with how small the space was. 

Leaning your head back with a soft thunk, you took the pain radiating through your body as a sign that you weren’t dead . You’d grasp tightly on that fact to keep you going until you were home, however long that could be. You weren’t sure how much more your body could take. Nightmare didn’t pull a single punch or kick, he was uncaring with slashing, and the eclectic shocks had your heart all over the place. Now, in the metal box, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what they were going to hurt you with next. 

You didn’t realize you passed out until a loud, rattling bang jolted you awake. The entire box shook violently and you shrieked in terror at the suddenness of it. Your body shook, tensing up in anticipation of another hit to come. 

The knowing feeling of a looming panic attack built up quickly, fully triggered when hit after hit beat down against the metal. Whatever items they were beating your confines with was making a deafening, metal on metal sound. It reverberated off the walls, never letting up, and you struggled to breath through your (justified) hysteria. No amount of screaming or pleading was going to stop their task of your torture and their entertainment. 

You knew it probably wasn’t long yet it felt like it went on for hours. With your back fully against the bottom, you felt every single vibration like it shocked your system. It hurt even if it wasn’t hitting you directly. You could make out the edges of the box denting from certain hits, making the already small space smaller the longer it went on. 

With your hands bound, you weren’t even about to cover your ears to block out some of the sound. 

“Make it stop!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, hearing your voice echoing in your ears, kicking at the sides the best you could. 

It didn’t stop, tears were streaming down your face as you wailed helplessly. Trembling was the only thing you could do besides pray for relief. 

You could feel yourself beginning to slip into a dissociative state, maybe from self preservation. The banging was starting to sound far off in the distance, out of body the longer it went on. The last time you really had a dissociative episode was in the shower after Mingyu was shot. You could remember the metallic smell of blood, similar to the inside of the box that surrounded you. There was that nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach like you were falling out of the sky. The air around you was stuffy, your breathing was shallow the more you disconnected from reality. 

If the hits stopped, you weren’t able to tell. The repeated sound replayed in your head in time with the beating of your heart. Any pain you felt was pins and needles, or washing over with numbness, mind and body attempted to regulate their functions to protect you, if your body could protect you.

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

Tag List:

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye @gaslysainz @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @vanteel @clownprincehoeshi @kpopandbookschild @honeybunchcrunch @black-swan-blog27 @peachie-wonu @kpopsimpsblog @choppedballoondetective

[petit-papillion]

It’s not his happy 2022 face.

But my delulu theory is that he had THE TALK with Silvia. Where she tells him he has to stop smiling or sulking like crazy because it gives everything away. We’ve seen the pics.

Our boy is just playing it down ready for his oscar.

Delulu time over

That RB is still insane 🥺

Oh yeah, I definitely think Silvia had a talk with him, and he is no doubt aware of all the tifosi watching his social media like a hawk for a telling emoji as well.

That said, we already anticipated last year that 2024 would still be a dominant year for RBR, potentially 2025 as well. I think we are all hoping that through some miracle it would not be the case, but in reality Red Bull has already been miles ahead in development for the past couple of years.

I just hope the SF-24 is doing what they wanted from it: less unpredictable, better with tyres, and obviously also faster than the SF-23. Charles wants some wins and more podiums - he is definitely not expecting this season to be a fight for WDC. And unless the car can be a championship contender (like F1-75 in early 2022), I don't think we will see Charles busting out big smiles and heart face emojis.

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 14)

 Masterpost

“Do you want to go back to the manor, or do you want to go somewhere else?” Jason asked Danny after a few quiet minutes driving. 

“Can we go out of Gotham? Somewhere quiet,” Jason hummed and nodded before switching the com on. “Hey Bruce, will you kill me if I take Danny camping for tonight?” He asked, he knew Danny loved the stars, being away from Gotham’s pollution for a night and getting to properly see the stars would probably help. 

There was a pause and then Bruce’s soft response. “No, I know you’ll take care of him, Jaylad. Will you stop by the manor so Alfred can make sure you have everything you need?”

“Ya I’ll do that, will you call him to make sure he has stuff ready for us? Probably a car too since I don’t think I can fit a tent and provisions on the back of my bike,” Jason chuckled. 

“Don’t you worry Master Jason, we have a motorcycle trailer I shall pack for you,” Alfred said over the coms.

Jason had forgotten that Alfred was on the coms as Agent A. “Thanks A,” Jason said and then turned off the radio again. “Does that sound good Danny? We’ll probably have to wait a bit for Alfred to pack up some food for us and stuff but getting out of Gotham overnight, being able to see the sky…?”

“Ya, ya Jason that sounds perfect. Thank you,” Danny said, squeezing Jason gently and snuggled against his back.

They pulled up outside the manor and Jason kicked down his bike stand so they could both get off. “Do you want to go in and pack some clothes or stay out here?” Jason asked as he got off and leaned against his bike still.

“I don’t want to go in,” Danny said quickly. Jason knew the feeling, where being surrounded by walls felt like a trap. 

“Alright, do you mind Alfie grabbing some clothes for you then?” He asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” Danny assured. “I’m looking forward to getting away from people. I’m glad not to have to be a hero anymore honestly, but I haven’t used my ghost form in a couple weeks and I want to Fly,” He said. “Nothing clears my head like flying as fast as I can.”

“Ya I can imagine. Bruce should introduce you to some of the supers, it would be good for you to spar with someone you can go all out with,” Jason said crossing his arms, not missing the way Danny’s eyes lingered on his biceps, smirking a little at Danny’s moment of distraction.

“Ya, it would probably be good for me to get some training with my powers too. Mom taught both me and Jazz martial arts when we were kids, before things got bad, but that was a while ago and before I got my powers.” Danny said a little vaguely. 

Jason nodded and was about to respond when he heard a soft motor, looking up to see Alfred driving a cart over to them, towing a small trailer towards them that no doubt had everything they needed for their camping trip. Maybe even enough from a weekend away in case Danny needed more time. 

“I’m sure you have a relatively secure location in mind, Master Jason?” Alfred asked once he came to a halt.

“Ya I do, Gonna get as far away from civilization as I can within a day’s drive,” He told Alfred who gave a thin smile and nodded.

“Very good, be safe you too,” Alfred said, stepping back again.

“We will, thank you Alfred,” Danny said with a little smile, going to stand by the bike, letting Jason get on first again before sitting down behind him again and hugged him.

“Ya, don’t worry about us,” Jason assured as he put his helmet back on and kicked off, speeding back out of the manor drive before anyone else got home. They were probably dawdling to give Jason and Danny time to get out again, he appreciated it, he didn’t think Dick in particular would be able to stop himself from questioning Danny. Even though he would only have the best intentions and all that but now wasn’t the time.

It was a decently long drive to the nearest national park, where Jason went off-roading and in the back. He would make a donation later, he just didn’t want anyone to be able to track that this was where they were. Taking Danny this far away from Gotham and the other Bats was already a bit of a risk with Vlad still at large but Jason had the specter-deflector and blaster Danny gave him with them and he hadn’t told anyone where they were going, they’d be fine. He was good at off-roading and judging from the giggling from Danny he was enjoying the off-road motorbike ride. 

When they were far enough away from the road no one was likely to see them there was a bright flash behind Jason and the weight of his bike shifted. He almost panicked Danny had fallen off before he caught movement to his side and glanced over to see Danny, now with white hair and green eyes, grinning at him impishly and racing along at his side flying fast.

“Race you!” Danny said, his voice had an odd echoing chime to it in this form but it was still recognizably his. There was plausible deniability about his identity though, sure as hell more than there was for superman but maybe they should still find him a mask.

“You’re on! But no just going through the trees! If I have to dodge, so do you!” Jason laughed.

“You got it!” Danny cheered.

Jason knew he was going to lose, but it was good to see Danny smiling, pinging between trees like a fucking ping-pong ball with pent up energy from not having used his powers at all for more then a week. Working out all the nerves and jitters as Jason raced along behind him trying to keep up.

Jason thought it was probably an hour of flying/driving before they came to a bank of a lake, he had to turn his bike sideways and skid to not slip into the water as Danny laughed at him. 

“This seems like a good place to set up camp huh?” Danny said, his feet finally touching the ground again. Another bright flash made Jason blink and Danny was his black haired, blue eyes self again. “Do you think Alfred packed us swim suits?” 

-------

They unpacked everything Alfred had sent them, set up the tent far enough back from the lake they couldn’t be seen across it, and laughed about the amount of food he’d sent them. It was enough to feed an entire team for a week! Still it was good food, and Danny was particularly excited about a chicken soup he’d sent in a metal container that could be heated up over a fire. 

Once they were unpacked Jason went to grab firewood, leaving Danny alone in the camp to take his binder off and change his shirt since that one still had jelly on it from the ultrasound. By the time he came back Danny had changed into a hoodie so his chest was barely visible, only when Danny absently rubbed it. When Danny caught Jason staring he gave the other man a shy smile and darted over to steal a kiss, taking half the wood to help Jason carry it to the fire-pit. 

Jason set about making a fire while Danny went back to the lake, wading in the shallows since they didn’t have their swimsuits. It was too cool out for an ordinary human to swim anyway, though Danny would probably be fine.

Jason glanced over now and then, watching Danny’s figure as he strolled along the shore, pants rolled up and ankles swishing through the green water without a sound. He piled kindling and lit it easily, stoking the fire and adding bigger logs, sitting back and waiting for some coals to develop while he set up their little camping grill. Once he could pull out some coals he did, put the grill over them and set the food on that to heat. 

When the food started to smell good Danny came wandering back over and sat down cross legged next to Jason, leaning against his shoulder. “Alfred’s the best cook in the family,” Jason said as he stirred the food, the soup which was just for Danny, and a chili and rice. “But I’m a pretty damn good cook too, if I do say so myself, you should come over to my place for dinner some time. I’d like to cook for you,” He admitted, it was always a way he showed affection.

“I’d like that,” Danny said, his eyes fixed on the fire and a small smile on his lips. His presence at Jason’s side was comforting and cool. He still seemed like he was a little bit out of it, bouncing back and forth between energy and lethargy, denial and grief probably. Jason had resolved not to say anything until after food, things tended to seem less dire with a stomach full of good food.

Once the food was steaming he used his gloves to pull the grill off the fire, nudging Danny to shuffle away so he could put it down between them. With the spoons he’d used to stir still in them. 

“Do you want to share?” Danny asked, trying to hide his reluctance, which was sweet.

“If you want to, but if not the soup is all yours,” Jason assured.

“Thanks. I guess I am eating for three now,” Danny chuckled a little bitterly before he grabbed the spoon and started to eat, blowing carefully on each bite so it wouldn’t be too hot. 

They ate in silence, Danny quickly finished off all the soup, which would have been enough for two people but Danny ate a lot. He’d need to eat more before bed no doubt. Alfred had still packed them why too much food but maybe there was a method to his madness anyway. Jason finished most of the Chili and then pushed the rest towards Danny who gave him a sheepish smile but finished that off too. 

Jason moved the grill out from between them and Danny scooted closer to Jason again. When he lifted his arm Danny ducked under it so Jason could drape his arm over Danny’s shoulders, keeping the shorter man tucked against his side. “So, do you feel up to talking now?” Jason asked softly and Danny sighed, turning his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment. 

“Ya,” He muttered resignedly when he came out of hiding. “It’s not really the babies this time. I mean ya I was still sort of in denial about actually being pregnant and seeing it made it real so that was a lot, but I had already mostly processed it. I want the babies, we’ll set up a nursery at the manor, I’ll have support, hell Bruce would probably even hire a nanny if we need. I’ll be able to finish school, it’s just…” He trailed off for a moment.

“You know, when I was born my dad was a little disappointed, they loved me but they’d wanted a daughter and a son. When I was assigned female at birth and they didn’t want any more kids, he was a little disappointed. When I came out as trans they were So Excited. My dad kept talking about how he knew I’d taken after him! I was going to be a ‘big man’ after all. He couldn’t seem to understand that even though I was a man it hadn’t changed my biology. They were so supportive, my mom Screamed at a teacher who made me cry misgendering me, got them fired. 

“They weren’t always bad parents, there were always good days. Ya they’d retreat into their lab for days at a time and we’d have to fend for ourselves, they left guns and chemicals all over the place. I Know they weren’t good parents, but they still loved us, and I loved them. And despite everything half of me really wants them to know their grandkids, wanted my mom to be there holding his hands and have my dad come bursting through the wall because he’s so excited to be a grandpa,” Danny sniffled a little. 

“I’ll be a better parent then they were by miles, but it’s sort of scary to know that love isn’t always enough. People who love you… still hurt you. It’s not fair that the good parts are all tangled up in the bad parts, and the bad parts are to bad to let anywhere near me or the babies, especially with the whole, half ghost thing.” 

“Ya, it’s not,” Jason sighed, biting his lip for a moment before clearing his throat. “Before Bruce took me in, before I was an orphan, my mom was an addict. Dad was in prison, it was just the two of us. On her good days she taught me to cook, she sang me lullabies, taught me Spanish.” He trailed off and sighed. “On her bad days she was too high to move, or unconscious. She’s be that way for days until the drugs ran out, I’d make sure she ate, try and keep the place clean, hell I had to help her go to the washroom. And I did it, because I was holding on to that last good day, and hoping for the next one. Even when the good days came less and less often near the end.

“Kids love their parents, even when they don’t deserve it. When the parent loves them too a kid can forgive just about any failing and dismiss all the hurt the parents cause because ‘people who love you wouldn’t hurt you’. Truth is the people who love you can often hurt you the worst, because you let them into your head, and rationalize everything they do. So if they hurt you, that must be what love feels like.”

“What do you think love feels like?” Danny asked, voice soft and vulnerable. 

“Well, for me I guess I learned what love really felt like when I moved in with Bruce,” though he was loathed to admit it. “When he’d carry me up to bed even though he knew I was only pretending to be asleep, he’d go slow so he could hold me a bit longer because he knew that’s what I really wanted. When he stayed home from patrol with me because I was sick and I wanted comfort, or remembered where my favourite gargoyle was so he could come find me when I was upset. And Alfred, teaching me to cook his family recipes and making me tea when I woke up in the middle of the night with nightmares, never seeming put out he was losing sleep.

“Love is… warm, and forgiving, willing to give you what you need without resenting it. Of course Bruce wasn’t perfect, stubborn, moralistic, self important bastard.” Danny let out an amused snort as Jason continued. “But… I know he did his best, and he never abandoned me. Even when I was dying I knew he was on his way, it sucked that he didn’t get there in time, but I never believed he abandoned me because I knew he never would.”

“I guess that’s Jazz for me. She’s only two years older than me, but she was always there, she showed me how to do just about everything. I thought it was annoying that she was always after me about doing my homework and stuff, but it means she really cared. Not just when she remembered to, or didn’t have anything better to do. 

“I guess I’m a little scared of that too. Now that I have a safe home, and she’s 18, she’s going to go to university and make new friends. She knows I’m safe now, so what if she doesn’t… care as much anymore?” Danny asked.

“That’s not going to happen,” Jason said immediately. “She might be around a bit less, but she won’t care any less. That’s what siblings are like. I should know, I have enough of them,” he joked and Danny gave a wet laugh. 

“Ya, she deserves to have her own life anyway,” Danny said, but he seemed calmer. They sat in a comfortable silence, watching the sunset across the lake, it was beautiful.

“Sooo, how do you think you want to decorate the nursery?” Jason asked and saw Danny smile.

“I’ll tell you in a minute, now that it’s dark there’s one more thing I have to do to feel better,” He said sardonically, ducking out from under Jason’s arm and standing. “Cover your ears,” he directed as he walked over to the lake.

Jason was confused, but he did as Danny asked as the other transformed into his ghost form. At the edge of the lake he took a deep breath and Wailed, the water exploded up around him forced back by the sound. Jason clamped his hands over his ears more firmly as the sound ricocheted around his skull, it was such a pure rage, fear, and sorrow he could Feel it bubbling in him as well, like it was more feeling than sound. Jason didn’t know how long it was before Danny stopped, collapsing to his knees and changing back into human form, breathing hard. 

Hesitantly Jason uncovered his ears and after a moment Danny took a deep breath and came back over to him, collapsing next to him by the fire. “Okay for the nursery I was thinking of a celestial theme.” 

They talked for a long time about what Danny wanted for the nursery at the manor. When Jason worked up the courage to suggest if they were still going strong in a few months they should set up a second nursery in his apartment. So Danny could come visit with the babies more easily once they were born, they moved on to plans for that hypothetical. They decided on a forest theme for that one, Jason was looking forward to it. He loved kids, and ya he and Danny were new but he had a really good feeling about this.

Next

[kingofbodyrolls]

End of the World (m) | myg | teaser

→ Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise?  → Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: science fiction, apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers, forced proximity (because love that shit) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: still writing (approx 10-20k) it’s a one-shot! → Author’s note: hiya. I’m currently writing this apocalyptic story with Yoongi, because… well. I’m fucking scared. So this is me working through and with my fear for something that I’m afraid is actually going to happen. We don’t need to talk about it, because a lot of bad shit is happening all over the world 😭 This is purely a story, though made up by my fears, yeah. Anyway, it’s okay if you’re not into it! The vibe for it is like The Last of Us and maybe a bit Fallout, I think if you enjoy that type of stuff, you’ll enjoy this one too. But it’s really heavy, but there’s a decent amount of fluff to balance it out, because, it’s still a fanfiction and it wouldn’t be that without some good old fluff and smut 🥰

You know you must move, but before you leave, there’s a promise to fulfill for Yuri.

You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there. 

It’s your only chance.

You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.

You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.

Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.

Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step. 

Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat. 

No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.

You’ve lost track of time—is it still September? 

The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.

When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.

The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.

You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.

→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜

Also please let me know if you’re interested, excited about it— otherwise I’m probably just gonna post it on my ao3 only, lol. I’m scared 🫣

Read the second teaser + book cover [here]!

It's been posted!!!!

[aciddrattboyy]

monster mash

scare!actor bachira appeared in a vision and i had to let it be known or after being stood up on a date, one scare actor meguru spots you and decides to try to fill the spot

bachira x f!reader 🕸 fluff 🕸 wc: 1.7k cw: nothing i dont think, nothing is too descriptive i think i literally use the word gore once, nvm i lied one mention of blood (its fake) a/n: this is me lil story for the poll i made but it prob wont be my only halloween fic cuz i love halloween

🕸

the cold fall breeze did nothing to help your already trembling body. as soon as you stepped out of your house you regretted wearing the tight black dress your date picked out for you. and when you got a message from said date saying he wasnt going anymore when you were already half way to the festival, you regretted it even more. 

you thought about turning back, going home and calling your friends. maybe try to see if there were any parties you all could go to. you wouldve felt bad asking your friends to buy tickets last minute. but you spent a good amount on your ticket and you weren’t about to waste it. 

here you were now, standing in line for a haunted house all by your lonesome. were you a huge fan of haunted houses? no not exactly. but were you about to get every pennys worth of what you paid for? yes of course. you kind of felt stupid about it, feeling a bit stubborn doing this all out of spite. but you weren’t exactly made of money and you had been excited to come here. so you’d persevere. 

meguru strolled out of the ‘crew only’ door, hands in the pockets oh his sweatpants while goosebumps trailed up his arms up until well his t-shirt sleeves ended. observing the ridiculously long line, he silently prayed for his coworkers and hoped their night went… decent.

rummaging through his pockets, meguru grabbed for his earbuds. but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. arms crossed tightly over your chest as you fidgeted with the hem of your short dress. a smile twitched on the corner of his mouth as he smoothly changed his course, abandoning his walk towards the employee parking lot and making a bee line towards you. he seamlessly slid under the velvet rope, grinning as he stood behind you. 

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here by yourself?” 

your eye twitched, twisting around and fully prepared to tell the creep off. but your words faltered when you actually saw megurus face. his smile didnt seem to match what sounded like cat calling. so you relaxed a bit, hoping that continuing this conversation wouldnt end badly.

“being stood up on a date,” you watched as his eyes widened, his smile faltering for just a moment. 

“no shit really?” he barked out a laugh out of surprised. his eyes scanned over you, watching in amusement as you bounced on the balls of your shoes. “damn that sucks.” you scoffed, nodding your head with a less than enthused smile. 

“thanks,” 

“but-” meguru said quickly, taking a step forward when he saw you begin to turn away. “uh if you want i can help you through it, i know the place well,” he said, gesturing to the haunted house youve been waiting to get into for what felt like eons. your eyebrow cocked as you faced him fully, being amused by his attempt to salvage the conversation. 

“are you some kind of adrenaline junkie?” you asked lightly, wondering just how many times he’d gone through it. little did you know it was more than you couldve ever guessed. 

“yes- but im one of the actors here so it would be pretty inconvenient if i didnt know my way around- whats your name? im meguru,” meguru didnt usually tell people about his job. not finding it important enough to talk about most times. was the job fun? most of the time. but it was just an exciting side gig while he made his way through college. but seeing the way your eyes lit up at his words, he felt good about it. 

“you dont look… scary,” you teased, studying megurus features as you moved up the line with him in tow. if you were given a line up of people to guess who were scare actors you probably would’ve picked him last upon first glance. “and its y/n” you added on with a bubbly grin. 

“well yeah i dont have an ax through my chest right now,” he shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving yours with a goofy smile on his face. you laughed, a sweet smile settling on your face. you felt like your night was starting to look up just a bit. “but nice to meet you y/n,”

the two of you talked a lot about nothing going through the line. it was surprisingly easy to just chat with him and you hadnt even noticed you were moving with the line until you were basically at the entrance. you looked at meguru with wide eyes when an ear piercing scream could be heard of from inside. 

“dont worry pretty girl i’ll protect you,” he said with a wink, mirroring the smile on your face. as you guys moved towards the entrance, your heart was too busy beating in your ears for you to notice or hear meguru talking to one of his coworkers that were monitoring the line. you were only brought back to reality when meguru linked his arm with yours, rolling his neck. 

meguru usually didnt actually walk through the haunted houses he worked at. the thought of seeing a coworker in the makeup he’s seen been put on them before would probably ruin the mood. but now that he had you, clingly to his side oh so adorably, he was starting to think maybe it would be fun. 

as soon as you walked in you were immediately veiled in eery, cold darkness. adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to adjust your vision. you swerved your head, trying to look out for any possible jumpscares. meguru watched as you grew a bit frantic, not wanting to say too much and spoil the fun. there was a faint smile on his lips when he saw you notice the well lit door down the hall. 

while you were relieved, and started making your way to the door, meguru knew that it wasnt the exit. he knew someone was behind that door, patiently waiting for someone like you to open it to jump out and scream. he found your interest in the door amusing considering he was there just a couple hours ago. 

“you might not wanna open that door,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. he felt bad for ruining the illusion, but you already looked like you were on the brink of collapse and the last thing he wanted was for you to faint. 

you shivered, his warm breath grazing your skin a stark contrast to the cold room you were in. holding on to his arm with both hands now, you let him lead the way, suddenly realizing you were not a fan of haunted houses. 

you got through the majority of the house with almost no incidents. having put your faith into meguru, you screwed your eyes shut. only getting scared by the ambience or someone else’s screams. 

meguru glanced down at you plenty of times as he walked you through. you just looked so cute leaning your head on his with your eyes closed. you had put all your trust in him to get you through and he was going to honor that. 

what meguru didnt know then, was that a bunch of the crew members had been plotting as the two of you walked through, staking out the exit for an impromptu jumpscare. they normally wouldnt do this, they have a job to do after all. but you guys were the last of your grouping so they would have to wait for you to leave before letting more people in anyway. it was sort of a gift to meguru, giving him a scare in a haunted house.

“we’re almost there,” meguru muttered close to your head, his smile growing as he made his way to the exit. your eyes had opened just a bit, relief washing through your body when you could clearly see outside of the haunted house. with a little pep in your step, you sped walked for the exit. 

but that was cut short when a body fell from the roof, almost landing on top of you but staying suspended in the air. you yelped, stumbling backwards into megurus chest. unfortunately for you, he was of no help. his eyes furrowed, his own heart rate starting to pick up. but just as he was about to make sense of it all, two actors jumped in front of you. the special effects were gorey and you thought you were going to vomit. with wide eyes you turned to meguru who was now laughing nervously. 

another body fell, this time hitting the ground with a thud right behind you. you both spun around towards the sound and you could feel a scream bubbling in your throat when you saw a dark liquid seep out from under it. 

under normal circumstances, meguru would laugh that stunt off, knowing exactly how it was done and having pulled it off himself. but having already been caught off guard, it did nothing to calm him down. 

quickly grabbing your wrist, he pulled you through the hallway, blood pumping through his veins as all of the sound effects and screams followed them out. your eyes were tightly shut, not daring to open until you knew you were out of there. 

the oh so slightly warmer autumn air hit you like a truck when you finally got out. your eyes were almost bugging out of your head as you looked at meguru who had the exact same expression. the both of you were breathing heavily, standing there in stunned silence.

“you said you knew-”

“i know i did-”

“so how-,” you took in megurus disheveled state, his genuine look of shock in his face made you giggle. with the adrenaline still flowing through you, you both became a laughing mess, rethinking that just happened in the past 3 minutes. and when you looked into his eyes once more, you werent able to stop yourself from pulling him into a kiss. meguru was quick to reciprocate, holding wrapping his arms around you as your soft lips pressed into his. 

the kiss only lasted mere seconds before you both stepped back in shock. you felt your face start to heat up as his smile only grew wider. 

“woah at least treat me to a caramel apple first,” you laughed softly and meguru could have sworn he felt his heart do a backflip into a split when he looked at you. you took your hand in his, squeezing it once before dragging him deeper into the festival. “i lied actually im more of a funnel cake typa guy,”

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3

[chaosfish2775]

Everyone, voting is not the end of your contribution in this campaign. Anyone looking at the nonsense I’m posting was probably already going to vote. But there are people in your life who aren’t going to vote, and it’s your duty to your country to convince them otherwise. Get people registered to vote, get people informed on their options, and get people out to the polls on November 5th. Donald Trump has his base, and they’re more vicious than ever. You think those racist, fascist, MAGA idiots are going to sit at home twiddling their thumbs? No! They’re going to vote. So make sure that everyone in your life who doesn’t want to see this country go to absolute shit, again, is registered to vote, and will.

It’s not hopeless, it’s not over. Donald Trump won’t win if the sane, decent people of America actually go out and vote this year. His strategy in this election, as it has been in every election, is to energize his base. But the thing is, they’re already energized. And with Biden dropping out and Harris stepping in, the only real credible attack he had is gone. Now he’s not facing someone who’s 82 years old, now he’s facing someone who’s almost 2 decades younger than him. He attacks her laugh, because there’s nothing else. He lies, and says she’s further left than Bernie Sanders, because he’s grasping at straws. He’s pulling away from the debates, because he’s a life long felon, and she’s a prosecutor. Because she’s fought, and beaten, people who are exactly like him.

If we go out and vote, if we utilize our more important right as members of this country, Harris will win. So go out there, get people registered, get people to the polls when it matters. Spread the word, reach out to anyone you can, make sure your friends and family know how crucial this election is. Biden was right when he said this election will determine the next few decades, maybe even the rest of this century. For the US, for the world. Do you really want that future to be set up by Donald Trump?

We will not go back. We must roll up our sleeves. We will move forward. And on January 20th, 2025, Kamala Harris will be sworn in as the first woman President of the United States. Vote blue, vote Harris. 🇺🇸🥥🔵

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 51

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: 50 chapters?!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You cross your arms, trying to comfort yourself as you wait. The front door opens and the only harbinger of your visitors are their footsteps. The grim pall of the house swallows them up as they shuffle over the doormat.

You don’t look over as their figures appear as shadowy blurs in the edge of your vision. You’re too humiliated to face your guests. Not truly yours, but Loki’s. Like everything else; this house, the very couch you sit on, the clothes you wear. Isn’t that what he’d only just berated you for? Taking it all so ungratefully.

“Darling,” Frigga’s the first to speak as she approaches, almost sheepishly, “my, I’d say it’s lovely to see you both but you look dreadful.”

You wince as she nears and shrink down, bending your legs as you long to curl into a ball. You hug your knees and curl your shoulders. She hovers over you, turning to speak to the others.

“You must open the curtains, it’s awfully gloomy in here,” she demands.

Loki mutters but at a grunt from his father, he acquisces. You stare at the black pants as he tears open the drapes, the rod ringing with his efforts. Another figure looms close. Odin shifts and places his hand on the armrest behind your shoulders.

“I see all is in a state of fine order,” Odin proclaims dryly, “you have this poor thing hanging from the troughs–”

“Father,” Loki sneers as he faces the room again. He steps forward, trying to tidy his wild curls, made even more defiant by his neglect. You notice his attire; his shirt is untucked and clashes with his tan trousers. “I will not be lectured.”

“Oh, dear, look at her face,” Frigga lowers herself to sit on the edge of the sofa and touches your arm kindly, “her dressings need changing.”

You avert your eyes and bite down on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten your nose and the peeling bandages. All that wasn’t as dire as the walls.

“Mm, and that isn’t my fault, mother. It isn’t I who would injure her thus. Rather your golden child,” Loki spits. “If you’ve come to argue the point further, I haven’t the time to hear it.”

“Son,” Odin girds, “do not rile yourself with presumptions. We’ve come to make sure you are well, as any decent parents might.”

“Hm, because you’ve always been so eager to visit, father,” he scoffs.

“Eh, Loki,” Frigga squeezes your arm before she stands again, “we thought to share some news to you. In person as it were. You wouldn’t answer the phone but we do believe you deserve to have it straight from us.”

“Oh, what is it now? Are we celebrating the solstice?” Loki folds his arms and lifts his chin, “you can check us off as not attending, thank you.”

“Now, don’t be an ass,” Odin growls, “if you would hear us, you might not have the urge.”

“Why should I listen to you, eh? Did you listen to me? Did you hear me when I walked in bruised to the gills? Did you hear me over that lout’s lies?” Loki snarls, “you made no move to stop me going but here you are, pouting and begging forgiveness. 

“Well, let me make it clear, you and that cretin you call your eldest son, will not entangle yourselves in another of my marriages. It will not happen. I told you that morning and I meant it. He is no brother of mine and if you continue to pander to his misdeeds, then you will count yourself two children, not three.”

You tweak a brow and tilt your head as his rant swirls over you. Marriage? Surely, he only misspoke.

“Would you listen?” Odin’s voice booms, echoing around the room as he steps around the couch and punches his palm. “We do count only two children; you and Hela.”

“Right,” Loki says unconvinced, “certainly, you will do your best not to let me share a table with him again. We can pretend nothing happened. That he did not accost my wife. Just as before, it is under the carpet as we stomp it into submission.”

“Wife?” Frigga murmurs in confusion and glances at you. You feel her gaze but don’t meet it. You’re just as confused.

“I mean it,” Odin insists and turns to look at you, “I am ashamed that my son would hurt you, dear. Brute as he is, I cast him out. He is banned from the house and wiped from my ledgers. Should you wish it, I would gladly testify to his guilt.”

You don’t reply. Which son does he mean? The one who chased you through the night or the one locking you in the dark?

“Thor is not welcome in this family anymore. If you hadn’t run away…” Odin faces Loki again.

“Oh, forgive me for my skepticism, father,” Loki grimaces, “you’ve not exactly earned a lot of trust from me–”

“Nor you me,” Odin counters.

“You never gave me a chance,” Loki hisses, “very well then, thank you, oh, great father, for practising an ounce of good judgment.”

“Boy,” Odin wags his finger at his son as he steps closer.

“Boy?” Loki exclaims, “get out. Now.”

“Loki,” Frigga screeches, “enough. We’ve come all the way here to apologise to you and… her, and you are being insensible. Would you hear us?”

Loki rolls his eyes. He keeps one arm across his chest and bends the other to flutter his fingers dismissively, “you kept him in my life. You begged me to look past his slights for years and refused to see them until someone got hurt.”

“Yes, we were neglectful. Willfully blind,” Frigga says sadly, peeking back at you, “seeing you that morning, and now, the bruises, and her… we… we are very sorry and we can understand that it might be too late for all this but we only want to be heard.”

Loki is quiet, roiling as he breathes loudly. He swallows and sniffs, “yes, you should look at her and see what he did to her.” His lip twitches, “and if I had not been there, imagine what he would have done–”

You close your eyes as you feel a weight over you, feel the suffocating heat, hear Thor’s sinister tone, ‘little maid’.

“Stop!” You throw your hands up as your eyes snap open, “please stop, I don’t want to think about it.”

“Oh, dear,” Frigga spins and once more rests herself on the couch’s edge, “you don’t have to. Please, you’re safe. He won’t bother you again. I’ll be sure of it.”

You knot your fingers together and twist until your knuckles hurt. You can’t look at her, at any of them. You shake your head and shrug.

“As you can see, she is not ready for company,” Loki asserts.

“What I see is she’s being shrouded away in this crypt,” Frigga rebuffs, “she requires sunshine. She needs healing, not paranoia.”

“You don’t know what we’ve been through,” Loki accuses, “how can you know what she needs?”

“I have eyes,” Frigga snips, “darling,” she speaks to you, “would you like some tea in the garden? Just you, I wouldn’t want to infringe.”

You gulp and rub your neck. You nod, “yes.”

“See?” Frigga pets your knee kindly before she stands again, “I won’t tread upon your toes, son, you get her the tea and see her to the garden.” She sidles aside to stand with her husband, “and then you will explain to me this whole marriage business.”

You glance over at Loki, the same question nipping at your ears. Was he confused? Why did he say all that? Marriage, wife? No, prisoner and warden, that’s what it truly is.

✨

Slowly the doom recedes. The warmth of the sun beams down as you keep your finger hooked in the handle of the tea cup. You let the steaming brew go cold as your eyes devour the scenery. The greens, the violets, the indigos, and pinks. Colours all around.

You suck in deep breaths of the spring air, tasting the last dregs of dew and the floating pollen. You hear the council of sparrows hiding in the bushes and watch the pair of doves bobbing across the grass. Bees buzz between the blooming stems and insects flit back and forth through the air. The seasonal renewal is underway as a whole new world awakens.

Beneath the serenity, there is fear. This won’t last. This is just a brief respite from your desolation. A flicker of light in the dark.

So you bask in it as much as you can, for as long as you can. You can’t help but peek over at the french doors and wonder about what’s happening behind them. What is being said? Are Frigga and Odin still there? Is Loki still angry?

You cup your chin and take a sip. This is all you ever wanted. You only wish he would have listened to you. Why must someone else talk sense into him? Why can’t he just hear you?

Your vision hazes as you drift into the peaceful hue. The spring swallows you up and mutes your worries. You cling to that moment, knowing the end will come sooner than later.

The doors open and pierce the spring soliloquy. You look over as Loki steps out. His shirt is tucked in and he’s tried to comb his hair. Still, he looks out of sorts. His eyes are circled darkly and his cheek tics as his jaw clenches.

He watches you as he nears the table, standing across from you as he extends his long fingers to the iron surface. He takes a breath and looks around. He retracts his hand to rest on the back of the chair.

“May I?” He asks.

His request surprises you. That he would even want permission. After all, this is his home, all of this is allotted to you at his whim.

“Sure,” you sit back and let go of the teacup.

He drags the chair out and lowers himself. He bends his arms over the table and his head swivels again, as if searching for something. He clears his throat and turns straight. He stares at you as you peer down at the table.

“It’s beautiful out,” he comments, “the tulips are coming in.”

You nod, “yeah, they’re pretty.”

He exhales and shifts in the chair. He taps his fingertips then weaves his fingers through each other. He stills his fidgeting.

“How is your tea?”

You look down at the cup, mostly untouched. You raise your eyes to meet him and purse your lips.

“It’s fine,” you answer, “what’s going on?”

He circles his thumbs around each other and pushes his shoulders up before forcing the tension out, “I thought I would… come enjoy the garden with you, pet.”

“Oh,” you utter.

“Oh,” he echoes staunchly. “Unless, I am disturbing you?”

You shake your head, “I thought you wanted me to go inside…”

He frowns and lowers his chin, “I…” he begins then unclasps his hands and sits straight. He rests his elbows on the armrests and his cheek strains, “I want you to be safe.”

You nod and look at your lap as you think, “your parents said Thor is gone.”

“Yes, so he has been cast out. For how long, I can’t be certain,” he sighs, “but he is not my only worry.”

“What else—”

“If I’d not discovered your escape, you would’ve fallen and hurt yourself worse.”

“Loki, I… I’m sorry but I couldn’t–”

“And you do not eat when I bring you food. You hardly sleep.”

“What about you?” You toss back as you raise your head.

His lips thin, “yes, what about me. I am just as guilty in all this, I see that now.”

You’re quiet as you consider his admission. It’s a rare moment. Not exactly victory, but a consolation. As much as you can hope for.

“I appreciate all you have done but I… don’t want to be a burden anymore,” you say, “if that’s how you feel about me, I think we’d both be better off if I left.”

He goes rigid and his throat tightens, “pet…”

“Or maybe I could just be the maid again. We could go back to that. That would be okay.”

He huffs and hangs his head. He brings his fingertips together as he seems to argue with himself. Slowly, he lifts his head, “no, that simply won’t do.”

Your face falls, “please don’t lock me up again.”

Your eyes gloss as you pout, begging him wordlessly. He winces as his mouth slants, one way then the other. He mulls on your plea.

He tilts his head one way then the other, stretching out his neck. He slips his elbows off the armrest and grips the chair, pushing himself to his feet. He rolls his shoulders straight and rounds the table. He stops beside you and lowers himself down to a knee. You watch him, confused.

He takes your hand and draws it over the side of the chair. He holds it in his, stroking it as he peers up at you.

“You cannot be a burden or the maid, and you certainly may not leave,” he says, “you are going to be my wife.”

You blink. You’re not sure you heard him right. He squeezes your hand and you look down at his grip.

“Loki?” You babble.

“I haven’t picked a ring, I’m sorry,” he pulls your hand to him, leaning in to kiss it, petting it, “but perhaps you might help in that.” He puts his other knee down and moves even closer, “we will have a lot of planning to do, won’t we, darling?”

He angles to lean his head against your arm, keeping his hand on yours. You’re paralysed. He’s proposing to you but there isn’t any room for your rejection. Like all other things, it’s a command. You have to keep yourself from answering, ‘yes, Mr. Laufeyson.’

You look down at his dark tresses and let out the breath racked beneath your ribs, “I’ve never been to a wedding.” The statement is hollow and numb. You don’t know what else to say.

He chuckles and lifts his head to grin up at you, “well, how exciting that you’re first will be your own.”

[sweetarethediscords]

The Maiden of The Barren Rime

Winter Wind blows through the valley, pushes us into our homes.

Pleading she knocks at our windows, scorned she continues to roam.

Chapter 1: The Brambled Beauty

Mina quieted at the sound of unfamiliar voices on the wind.

“Are you sure this is the right cabin?” It was a feminine voice, on the younger side, with a slight Tinian accent, most likely from the North Coast judging from the way they dragged the “er” in “sure.”

“Of course this is the right cabin! It’s the only cabin in this damned forest!” A masculine voice spat back. Staunchly Lanholdian, Mina could almost feel the thick tension in their tongue behind her own teeth. The gravel of age and annoyance ground up from the back of their throat.

Mina picked up her pace, leaping up into the treetops, crossing miles in minutes towards the voices with no more sound than the rustle of wind through pine needles.

She stilled. The branch beneath her feet barely creaked.

They were outside her cabin. A young woman with thick glasses and even thicker curly hair checked the compass in her hand as the short, sturdy man beside her impatiently tapped his foot and picked at the split ends of his long, braided beard.

Mina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword as she watched them through the canopy. The man’s leather armor bore a crest depicting a mountain top and three diamonds, with glinting, well-polished stripes on his pauldron pronouncing his rank. Seven; a general of lauded stature. Why he traveled with the young woman was unclear.

She was clearly not a noble. The slight roll forward of her shoulders, the patterned bandanna holding her hair out of her eyes too weathered or wrinkled for even a disguised royal to wear, and a decent soldier would never keep their guard down as much as hers was in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps she had hired the knight as security on her journey.

A journey Mina would take no part in.

She shifted to sit easily and silently, making sure not to catch the beaver skins hanging from her pack beneath her. A few more minutes and they would leave, then she could prep the skins and start to smoke the meat in her satchel as planned.

“Well,” the woman stuffed her compass into her jacket pocket. “At least it’s a nice day out to wait. Sun’s still warm enough to cut the edge off the autumn chill.”

Annoyingly, she made her way to the porch of Mina’s cabin and took a seat on its rough wooden steps. Mina ground her teeth slightly. Maybe a splinter or two would poke her through her patchwork skirt and urge her away.

The man huffed and kicked at a tuft of crabgrass. “You think this chill has an edge? Just wait until you’re on the Peaks.” The tuft came loose, sending dirt and now homeless pill bugs scattering. “If we ever get to the fucking Peaks.”

Dammit, Mina thought. They were here for an expedition.

“Ya know, we could always go with another alpinist,” the woman offered. “Beto Lamar’s homestead is about a day’s ride west from here.”

“A day’s ride but three weeks past our deadline,” the man said. “This girl can bring us back to Lanholde in under a month.” He stomped over and stood on the steps, too proud to sit, but not proud enough to not lean on the railing for support. “She will get us there in a month.”

“Even if she’s already off on an expedition?”

“She’s not,” the man gestured over his shoulder. “The windows are open. And this cabin is too well maintained for its owner to just head off for two months with the windows left open.”

Mina thudded her head against the tree trunk. Of course. An observant and stubborn knight.

She inhaled deeply, held it, then exhaled, taking her frustration down a little, unclenching her jaw just a touch. She'd piss them off enough that they’d rather stand Lamar’s extra three weeks in the cold than put up with her, and if that didn’t work, ask for a ridiculous amount of gold to scare them off.

Three more weeks in the cold. Three more weeks to die. The unwilling thought made her teeth ache.

She climbed down from the pine she had perched in and moved soundlessly towards the drying rack staked beside her cabin. She removed one of the rungs filled with beaver skins from her pack. A loud and forceful snap echoed through the woods as she dropped it into place.

The trespassing pair jumped. The knight drew his sword as the woman bladed her feet into a wide stance, arms lifted, ready to perform some sort of cast.

So they were a magic wielder and a knight.

“Get off the porch,” Mina stated bluntly as she hung another rack.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the knight’s jaw fall agape while the woman’s disposition relaxed. She straightened up out of her fighting stance, and Mina caught the faint sound of a cork squeaking back into a bottle on the wind.

“My apologies, miss. We’re looking for the alpinist that lives here,” she said. “Would that be you?”

“No,” Mina lied. “I’m a hunter. The alpinist lives to the west.”

The woman arched an eyebrow and looked to the knight. He flared his nostrils, puffed out his chest, and stomped over towards her.

“I am Sir Murmir Gargic, general-rank knight of the Lanholde Royal Army, proud servant to King Fritz Reinhardt.”

“Never heard of him,” she lied again.

The knight sputtered, whatever bullshit speech he had prepared dying on his tongue. “You never—”

“Sir Gargic,” the woman whispered behind him, calling his attention and allowing him a moment to regain his composure.

Annoying.

“Well, he’s heard of you, and has specifically recommended that we seek you out to lead us up the Fallow Peaks. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, so if you don’t mind talking terms so we can start the expedition today—”

“If that’s the case, then I guess your king expects you both to die,” Mina droned, mono-toned and matter-of-factly. “I’m a hunter, not an alpinist.”

The knight’s breathing shallowed as her jab at his ruler crawled under his skin. He inhaled deeply, a tirade building, when the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How much would it cost for you to be an alpinist?” she asked.

Mina drifted her dull gaze over towards the woman, finding her with a smirk on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.

“Seven thousand gilt one way,” she answered. “The real alpinist to the west charges half that.”

“I’m sure.” The woman shrugged. “But the alpinist we’re looking for fits your description exactly. Female alpinist. Rough around the edges. Lives alone in a cabin deep in the Sandere Woods, five hundred paces off of the last bend in Woodgullet Road, heading northeast.” She rattled off the details as if she were reading them off a sheet of paper.

Mina blinked slowly, then repeated. “Seven thousand gilt one way.”

“Deal.”

Gods fucking dammit. An unfortunately familiar tug pulled at her spine.

Sir Gargic fished out a scroll from one of the pouches on his belt, while the woman brandished a quill and a bottle of ink. He scrawled something down on it, then turned the parchment in her direction: a contract of duty.

His thick, stubby finger pointed at the 7,000g written next to the terms of payment. “Seven-thousand gilt to be delivered direct from the Capitol’s treasury upon our safe arrival.” His finger traveled down the page to a long signature line. “All you need to do is sign here.”

She did, reluctantly. Her arm dragged by that damned tug.

“Mina,” the woman read her name aloud, standing on the tips of her toes to watch as she wrote it. “I’m Wera Alrust.”

Mina snapped the quill once she finished, dropped it to the ground, and headed into her cabin.

“Where are you going?” Sir Gargic barked behind her. “You’re under contract to—”

“Packing,” Mina answered. “Can’t climb a ten-thousand-foot cliff face with just a bow, a sword, and a can-do attitude.” She paused in the doorway. “Just two going up?”

“Five,” Wera answered. “Six if you count yourself.”

“I don’t.”

Last-minute trips up the Fallow Peaks were nothing new to Mina, as much as she loathed them. They were always inconvenient and pressing, which meant the travelers were stressed and distracted — which meant the death count was usually higher than the average one or two losses. Expeditions such as this were few and far between, at least. Most travelers knew to prepare well in advance for the perilous journey, contracting her months ahead of time instead of minutes.

She closed all the windows and locked the shutters, made sure her books and sheet music were lifted off the ground in case the fall rains caused the lake to flood, and tucked the more expensive of her instruments away as she filled the pack she kept by the door.

“Flint, whytewing leathers, tarp, rations, climbing axes…” she muttered to herself as she rifled through it — taking stock to make sure she had everything she needed — then picked up a fiddle and bow leaning against a hard wooden chair. She loosened up the strings a bit and unstrung the bow to keep the horse hairs from snapping, then shoved it in with the rest of her gear.

“Where are the other three?” she asked as she stepped back outside and locked the door.

“Back on the road, waiting with the wagon,” Wera replied.

“You can’t take a wagon up a mountain.”

“We don’t plan to.” She was, frustratingly, smiling at Mina when she turned around. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

Sir Gargic headed off, impatience and frustration bringing out the ill-manner child in him. With such thin skin, it wouldn’t be long before he broke their contract, or he died. Rabbet’s Pass most likely, which would be convenient. She could leave his corpse in the caves there, and they wouldn’t have too far of a walk back to Sandere afterwards.

After only a few wrong turns through the thick wood, the seldom-used road emerged. A simple covered wagon pulled off to the side let the four horses that drove it graze lazily, while two more members of their party hung around it: an old woman with her hair up in a tight bun, sitting on the ground making daisy chains out of dandelions, and a young man with a sharp haircut and a well-coiffed mustache scrawling in a notebook as he sat in the driver’s seat.

Sir Gargic’s spine straightened and chest puffed out as he put on a bit of bravado. “We’ve returned!” he cried, waving grandly.

The old woman and mustached man looked up from their work. The woman abandoned her dandelions and stood to meet them, while the young man looked them over and flipped to another page in his book; quill taking off in a fury.

“Ah! Are you the young lady who will be guiding us?” The old woman smiled sweetly. “My name’s Tanir and the boy on the cart is Enoch.” She turned over her shoulder and hollered, “Wave hello, Enoch!”

Enoch raised his hand partially, too engrossed in whatever he was writing to look away.

“Mina.” Mina met Tanir’s gaze, and the old woman’s brow furrowed. She was looking for the appropriate response, a sign of expression to source Mina’s first impression of her. Mina watched her bottom lip shift subtly, a minuscule pucker as her teeth bit behind it uneased to find nothing.  

Annoy the knight. Unnerve the old woman. Now she just had to find the others’ weaknesses.

“You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road. They’ll slow us down and will be hunted by the beasts of the Harrow.”

“Oh, uh—” Tanir swallowed. “That sounds like something you should discuss with Master Windenhofer. I’ll go get him for you.” She flashed another smile, this one fueled by nerves, and hurried off into the back of the wagon.

Enoch snapped his notebook shut and leaned over the side of the driver’s seat. He rested his chin on his hand dramatically, abandoning the fierce focus he held when writing to gaze at Mina with puppy dog eyes. “Did you know you are extremely beautiful for an alpinist?”

Sir Gargic sputtered with embarrassment. Wera shot Enoch a disgusted look.

Mina stared at him blankly.

“I know,” she said after a moment.

Enoch choked on his spit at her response. Wera burst out into a fit of laughter, drawing Mina’s attention.

Laughter wasn’t a response she was used to receiving.

“Don’t forget to write that one down,” Wera wheezed through her giggles. “‘My attempts at flirtation failed tremendously as usual.’ A good archivist doesn’t leave out any details!”

“Enough of that, Enoch!” Sir Gargic snipped, hitting him on the arm. “She comes highly recommended by The Crown of Lanholde, and you will address her with the respect that such a recommendation warrants!”

“S-sorry, M-mina,” Enoch stammered, still caught off guard by her curtness as he leaned back away from her, rubbing his injured arm.

“I hear we have a new face joining our motley crew!” a warm, deep voice cheered from inside the wagon. The cart bounced as a tall, lean man, with a wide smile and a thick shag haircut, stepped out of it, Tanir following behind.

“Hello, I am Sebastian Windenhofer. It is wonderful to meet you!” the man extended his hand out in greeting.

A soft breeze blew between them as Mina considered his outstretched hand. His fingers were long, as to be expected of someone of his height, and his palms were oddly covered with an even layer of callous.

She did not shake it.

“Mina,” she said to the hand, in the same bland manner that she had introduced herself to everyone else.

Sebastian seemed unbothered by his spurned handshake, and instead clasped his hands together and nodded his head softly, “Mina.” There was a slight hum to the ‘M’ as he said it. “Tanir mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something regarding the horses?”

Mina’s distant stare met his attentive gaze. Sebastian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“The woods are too thick for a wagon to fit through, and the mountains are too steep,” she answered. “The Harrowed Woods that border Sandere and the Peaks are filled with hungry monsters who will be lured by the thought of a four-course horse meal, too.”

“I see.” Sebastian brought his hand up and tapped his fingertips lightly against his lips as he thought. “Would it be better for the horses if we left the wagon and let them loose now as opposed to when we get closer?”

Mina paused, and tilted her head to the side, caught off guard by his question.

“Have I spoken out of turn?” his voice wavered.

“No, it’s just that I’ve never had someone ask to let the horses out early,” she replied, much more candidly than she intended. She straightened her head, collecting herself. “There’d be less chance of them being attacked. Not many monsters here in these woods.”

“That settles it, then.” Sebastian addressed his crew, “Gather your belongings, we will be continuing on foot from here. Wera and Sir Gargic, unhitch the horses and send them back down the road, please.”

“Ugh, my penmanship gets so poor when we’re walking,” Enoch groaned as he slid down from the driver’s seat.

“Guess you’ll have to save your sonnets for when we’re in Lanholde,” Wera remarked as she started unbuckling one of the horse’s bridles. “We’ve got nothing but walking ahead of us now.”

Sebastian returned his attention to Mina. “It should only take us a few minutes to get packed up. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out a tea kettle and mug. Twirling the mug around his finger by its handle, he juggled the kettle with one hand and caught it by its base. Steam rose from its spout.

Not just a magic user. He was a wizard, capable enough to demonstrate his talents so casually.

Or cocky enough to make a big show over the few skills he did have.

“No,” Mina replied, tapping the canteen attached to her belt. “I have a canteen.”

She could have just left it at ‘no’.

“Of course.” He threw the tea set into the air as if he were throwing away a piece of paper over his shoulder and with a snap of his fingers they vanished.

Definitely a show-off.

“I have a few things to pack myself if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, smiling again, still wide as it shifted to a slightly different shape, then headed back into the covered wagon.

Mina watched him walk away.

If he wasn’t just a show-off, then maybe they’d make it a mile past Rabbet’s Pass.

🜁

“So, Mina, would you care to tell us a little about yourself?” Sebastian asked as they walked up the rest of the road. Considering how chatty they were while getting their shit together, Mina didn’t have any hope of a quiet walk to the Harrow’s beginning. “I’m sure there’s much more to you than living in these woods and leading expeditions through the Fallow Peaks.”

“That’s all there is to know,” she replied.

Sebastian chuckled, a rumble out from his chest that buzzed in Mina’s ears. “I’m sure that’s not true. What about ‘how you got started leading expeditions’? Doesn’t seem like a job someone just falls into.”

“It’s not.”

“Then how’d it happen for you?”

“Someone had to do it. So I did it.”

“And what did that entail?”

“Doing it.”

“Sebastian,” Tanir interjected, “perhaps it’d be best if we shared a little bit about ourselves first.” She smiled at Mina. Mina kept her gaze forward, praying that the treeline would take mercy on her and move closer on its own. “I’m the company medic, been working with Sebastian since he had a particularly rough encounter collecting basilisk venom a few summers back. Poor thing hobbled to my home half turned to stone, and insisted I travel with him on his adventures ever since.”

“You faced off against a basilisk?” Enoch piped up from the back of the pack. “When we rest for the evening, you’ll have to sit down with me and give me the full story. You too, Tanir. It should definitely be added to my records.”

“Are you volunteering to go next then, Enoch?” Sebastian asked.

“I— uh—” Enoch jogged up in front of them and turned to walk backwards as he spoke, “Well I met—”

“Don’t walk like that,” Mina interrupted. “If you fall and break something, we’ll have to leave you behind, or I’ll have to kill you.”

His steps slowed as his eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“It’s quicker than the duskwolves tearing into your flesh and snapping your neck.” It was brutal imagery, but not entirely false.

“She’s kidding, Enoch,” Sebastian said.

Enoch’s voice hollowed. “H-how can you tell?”

“Because if you did break something, Tanir would gladly patch you up,” he reasoned.

“Though I’d give you a scolding while I did it for not listening to the expert,” Tanir added, drawing out the title expert to appease Mina’s non-existent good side. “So turn around and continue your story.”

“Right.” Enoch turned around quickly at her instruction, gathered his composure with a shudder of his shoulders, and turned his head slightly to the side to speak, “I met Sebastian on a truly fate-defining day. Wandering the Coast of Carvons, I was lost, looking for inspiration to strike.”

Wera groaned.

“And it did! As I sat on the beach, begging the great and powerful ocean to lend me some of its majesty, a geyser of sand erupted from underneath of me, sending me skyrocketing through the air. Whilst I fell from the heavens, I looked down at the ground below me. What once was a beach was now a golden temple! And upon the roof of this temple stood the great Sebastian Windenhofer, my new muse! Since that day, I have traveled alongside him, cataloging his adventures to tell the world of his greatness.”

“You know that the rest of us were on top of that temple too, right?” Wera chided before addressing Mina. “Please take his tales with a grain of salt. For an archivist, he seems to have a selective memory. I’m the cartographer. Sebastian was the first person to hire me out of school, and I’ve been traveling with him ever since.”

She looked back at Enoch and snickered, “See? Short, sweet, and to the point. Your turn, Sir Gargic.”

“Indeed.” Somehow, the knight puffed his swollen chest even bigger. “Unlike the rest of my compatriots, I am not under the employ of Master Windenhofer, but rather a liaison of The Crown of Lanholde. They’ve tasked the two of us with uncovering and collecting a few precious artifacts that The Crown has a vested interest in. We are on the last leg of this journey now.”

Everyone’s attention landed on Mina, heavy with expectation, a burdensome weight. They had offered their stories without her agreement. There was no need for her to respond. Responding would only embolden them to keep prying.

Sebastian broke the thick silence and turned to Tanir, “Did you really have to tell the basilisk story, Tani?”

“It’s one of my first and favorite memories of you,” she replied.

“You should’ve waited for winter,” Mina commented, against her better judgment. “Basilisks get sluggish and less alert in the cold. You can sneak up behind them and slice off their heads in one strike if your blade is sharp enough. Just make sure to cut about a foot below their jaw so that you don’t pierce the venom gland.”

Her unexpected advice, matter-of-fact and brutal, garnered shocked and confused expressions from everyone but the wizard. Maybe it was the right call, then. The more alien she seemed, the better off they all would be.

“Aha! You’re a hunter too!” Sebastian — frustratingly — cheered. “I knew there was more to you!”

 If Mina could meaningfully scowl, she would have. The sight of his smile stabbed at the corner of her eye as she kept her gaze forward. Wizards were known to be fascinated by curiously temperamental creatures, of course it would be harder to break him.

“Now, do you have any other comments, questions, concerns for our happy little troop? Perhaps some tips on how to deal with those duskwolves you—”

“You’re all loud,” she stated. “It’ll draw things to us, and cause trouble on the Peaks.”

“Why’s that?” Tanir asked.

“Avalanches.”

“Wait,” Enoch said. “There’s going to be snow on these mountains?”

“What did you think we bought all those cold weather clothes for?” Wera scoffed.

“Lanholde has a cooler climate. I just thought winter wear was the fashion there.”

Wera sent a pleading look Sebastian’s way. “Did you really have to hire him, ‘Bastian? We could have just left him stranded on that beach.”

“True,” Sebastian shrugged, “but we need entertainment on this journey, and watching the two of you bicker could rival some of the best traveling shows.”

As those around Mina talked, and laughed, and teased each other, the surrounding trees grew in number. Their trunks twisted, more gnarled and oddly shaped, their canopy so thick it shifted the shade of the lower leaves lighter from the lack of sunlight. The group came to a halt as the road ended at a wall of forest: the start of the Harrowed Wood.

“Right. Which of you can fight?” Mina asked as she headed to the front of the pack.

All of them raised their hands.

Wera and Sir Gargic she understood but the others… “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we couldn’t hold our own, lass,” Sir Gargic said. “Trust me, I was wary myself when I first met them, but even Enoch is worthwhile in a scrap.”

“Hey!” Enoch whined.

“Cartographer, you’re with me at the front,” she instructed before they wasted more time chatting. “Medic and Archivist in the center. Wizard and Knight in the back. Listen more than you talk. Keep an eye out for anything moving that shouldn’t be. If you see something, say something. And if something does attack us, no matter what happens, stay behind me.”

Mina didn’t wait for them to finish pairing off before weaving her way through the trees. She didn’t even acknowledge Wera as she hustled to fall in place beside her.

“So,” Wera drawled after a few minutes of silence between them, “why’d you pick me for the front?”

“You’re a mapmaker,” Mina replied. She didn’t look at Wera as she spoke, her stare focused on surveying the forest in front of them. “If you make a map of the Harrow and the Peaks and take down the trail I use, I may never have to lead people through here again.”

If she had to suffer through another expedition, at least she could make this one of use.

“You seem a little young to retire,” Wera remarked. “And you need income to upkeep that cabin of yours, right? Though with seven thousand gilt an expedition, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself something a little sturdier to live in.”

She could feel the pressure of Wera studying her face, looking for something she’d never find.

“There are other ways to make money that don’t involve being bothered.” She changed the subject, “People think that there are just wolves, bears, various small-time magical beasts here. The Harrow is untouched. Nature and magic are uncontrolled and unforgiving.”

“Probably because of the runoff from the Peaks or some past geological event. I’ll make a note to have Enoch look into it.” Wera took out a small notepad and jotted something down. “If that’s the case then I’d bet there are many ways to cross over into parts of Elphyne here too, probably a bunch of fae circles, areas where the veil is thin. Would you be able to point them out when we pass them?”

“Just write down the trail taken and there’s no need to worry about any of that.”

She heard Wera’s pen skip on the page and a heavy exhale out of her nose.

There it was. She hated being talked down to.

Wera abandoned the topic and turned to basic questions about the flora and landmarks, easy enough that Mina could answer with little thought as she tuned one ear to the forest as best she could through the whispers of those walking a little too far behind her.

“Would you look at that,” Sir Gargic remarked, voice slightly muffled and strained. He talked out of the corner of his mouth in a bad attempt to be quiet. “She’s actually talking to Wera.”

“People do often talk to each other,” Sebastian said coolly, not feeding the knight’s judgment.

“Yes, but she’s so—”

“Are we talking about the Brambled Beauty?” Enoch whispered.

“The what?” Sebastian deadpanned.

“You don’t like it, sir? I’m trying to figure out the perfect way to describe such a terrifying and alluring creature.”

“Alluring?” Sir Gargic guffawed, “She’s so cold!”

“Yes! She’s cold!” Tanir added, voice peaking with a burst of realization.

Mina ground her teeth to keep from chewing them out. It was better that they didn’t know how well she could hear, and she had bore much harsher digs than their rude observations anyways.

“Just because she’s different than us doesn’t make her less of a person,” Sebastian chided. “And Tanir it’s unlike you to make assumptions about someone you’ve just met.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just—”

A low gurgle deep within the ground, quiet and out of place in the harmony of forest sounds, environmental interrogation, and gossiping whispers, stilled Mina’s stride. She barred her arm across Wera’s chest, stopping the preoccupied cartographer, and held her other hand up to halt those behind them.

Their footfalls and chitchat ceased abruptly. Mina turned her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips to signal them to stay silent and wait.

She drew forth the sword that rested on her hip and crept forward, listening, eyes fixated on the forest floor. The gurgle reached her ears once more, louder and more guttural; hungry. Mina stopped, bladed her feet, and whistled a line of bird song.

“A meadowlark?” Sebastian whispered.

For a fleeting moment, she noted how keen his ear was, then a massive maw erupted out of the earth, lunging at her. Wind at her heels, Mina leaped at it, rocketing towards the toothy mouth at incredible speed, and drove her blade down through its top lip. The beast let out a terrible, gargling roar, shaking off the actual dirt and plants from its mimicking hide to reveal an ornery terramawg.

With the momentum of her jump and the leverage of her impaled sword, Mina vaulted over the bulbous amphibian’s earthen hide. She snapped her hips around, pivoting midair to face the beast’s back, and drew forth her bow in the same fluid motion.

The air stilled as Mina ran her fingers from the grip of her bow to its string. The water in the air collected, crystallized under the brush of her fingertips, forming an arrow of pure ice. She aimed for the creature’s third, slitted eye, a weak point that rested on the nape of its neck, and fired. A roaring gust of wind shook the trees, following in her arrow’s wake as it soared through the air, embedding itself deep into the terramawg’s brain.

Mina kept her focus on the beast as she descended, landing on a nearby tree bough without a glance back. The terramawg seized, the frost from her arrow glaciating its mind, and collapsed into a blubbery heap, returning to the mass of earth and withering foliage it disguised itself as.

Mina secured her bow on her back and slid down the tree’s trunk.

“Keep moving,” she said to the group as she retrieved her sword from the terramawg’s corpse.

It was as if they too had been immobilized by her ice. Sir Gargic’s hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. Tanir had pulled out a handaxe from somewhere. Three thin daggers were laced between Enoch’s fingers like claws. A swirl of inky liquid hovered over Wera’s palm, while her other hand rested on her chest. Sebastian’s hands were coated in flame.

All of their mouths hung agape.

A dull pang pushed against Mina’s chest at the sight.

“Great Gods. Save some for the rest of us next time, will ya?” Sir Gargic shuddered.

“It was quicker if I handled it,” she stated. “Now come on. There’s more ground to cover before nightfall.” Mina turned on her heels and walked away, stepping across the terramawg’s body and taking care to drive her heels in a little harder as she did so.

“Hey, wait up!” Wera ran after her, manipulating the ink back in its vial and pulling out her notebook once again.“How were you able to tell where it was?”

Tanir pulled a stupefied Enoch along, “Come on. You should be jumping with joy. Action like that is sure to make your book even more exciting.”

“Well,” Sir Gargic remarked to Sebastian with a heavy exhale, “I guess we know why she’s so cold now.”

Sebastian hummed in acknowledgment, nothing more. Nothing until moments later, when under his breath a murmured thought slipped out.

“The wind even changed direction.”

The reverence in his tone, unheard by everyone else, bristled against the back of Mina’s neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of The Maiden of the Barren Rime! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read it.

To show my appreciation, here's a 50% off discount code you can use when ordering The Maiden of the Barren Rime E-Book off of my website: MBRTUMBLR50

The code expires on May 31st at 11:59pm so make sure to use it or share it with a friend by then!

[deatheaterv]

Could you do an imagine in which reader is some popular kid in Hogwarts, maybe she stands up to the marauders and later Snape snaps at her that he doesn’t need help and she calls him silly boy and happy ending with them as a couple?

SILLY BOY

hi sender! that’s soo cute and i love the it. i hope this meets your expectations!

pairing : severus snape x reader

genre : fluff

warning : -

summary : as in the request

you’ve always noticed snape. most people don’t pay much attention to him, especially the marauders, who make it their mission to torment him every chance they get. today, though, it’s particularly bad. they’re cornering him in the hallway, mocking his clothes, his hair, and making cruel comments that you can’t ignore. they’re relentless, and it’s almost like they’re having fun with it.

you watch from a distance, anger bubbling inside you. you’ve always hated how the marauders treated snape, and today, something in you snaps. you’ve had enough.

“oi!” you call out, marching over to the group, your voice firm. “leave him alone.”

james, looking amused at first, glances at you with a raised eyebrow. “what’s this? got a soft spot for snivellus now?”

“shut up, james,” you snap. “he’s not the one who deserves to be made fun of.”

“oh, really?” sirius says with a sly grin, his eyes narrowing. “and why’s that?”

“because he hasn’t done anything to deserve this. you’re bullying him for no reason,” you argue, standing your ground. “if anyone’s got something to prove here, it’s you four.”

snape’s eyes flicker to you for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything. he looks surprised, but there’s something in his expression you can’t quite place. you’ve never seen him look so… vulnerable.

remus steps forward, looking uncomfortable, as always when the marauders go too far. “maybe we should just go,” he says quietly, tugging on sirius’s sleeve.

after a few tense seconds, the marauders reluctantly back off, though their scowls are still directed at you.

as the group disperses, you turn to snape, who’s still standing there, looking a bit shaken. you want to say something, but you’re not sure how to approach him. before you can speak, snape turns to leave, his usual scowl back in place.

“wait,” you call, stepping forward. “are you okay?”

he freezes, then slowly turns back to face you, his expression unreadable. “i don’t need your help,” he says, his tone harsh but lacking the usual venom. “i can handle them.”

“silly boy,” you reply with a teasing smile. “you don’t have to handle everything on your own. no one does.”

his eyes narrow, but you can see the faintest hint of something softer behind his glare. “i don’t need anyone’s pity,” he mutters, looking away.

“it’s not pity,” you insist, taking a step closer. “it’s just.. being a decent person. something they clearly don’t understand.”

he’s silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering back to you. “you think you know everything, don’t you?” he finally says, his voice a little quieter than before.

you shrug, feeling bold. “i think i just know you better than they do.”

snape looks away, his jaw tightening. there’s something about the way you stand there, so confident and unwavering, that makes him pause. for the first time in a long time, he feels like someone’s actually seeing him, not just as the quiet, brooding boy with a chip on his shoulder, but as a person. someone worth caring about.

“don’t make me owe you anything,” he says, but there’s no malice in his words, just a quiet vulnerability.

you smile, “you don’t owe me anything, silly boy."

over the next few weeks, you find that your encounters with snape become more frequent. it’s subtle at first, just small exchanges during class or passing glances in the hallways. but slowly, the tension between you two starts to shift.

there are moments where he seems less like the bitter boy he used to be and more like someone who might actually want to be around you. his usual scowl softens when you catch his eye, and the sarcastic comments he makes toward you hold a hint of teasing rather than malice.

the sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over the grounds of hogwarts. the air was warm, the sound of laughter and chatter from students drifting from the castle. but you and snape had found a quiet spot away from everyone else, sprawled out on the grass near the edge of the forbidden forest. the tension of exams and school life felt far away, the only thing between you and snape being the peaceful silence that had settled over the two of you.

you lay on your back, staring up at the sky, the clouds moving slowly above. snape was lying beside you, his arms folded across his chest.

the silence stretched between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that felt natural, like there were no words left to be said. still, you couldn’t help but turn your head to look at him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“you know, i never thought i’d be out here with you like this,” you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the breeze.

snape glanced at you, his dark eyes locking with yours. “and why’s that?” he asked, his tone still laced with that familiar sarcasm.

you chuckled. “because of everything… everything we’ve been through, and how we started.”

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze flickering to the sky as well. “it seems strange, doesn’t it?” he murmured. “the way things change.”

you nodded, your smile softening. “i guess some things just take time.”

snape exhaled slowly, then turned his head to look at you again. there was a vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. he shifted closer, his voice low but steady. “i’ve never been good with… people. with this,” he said, the words coming out almost like a confession.

you turned to face him, propping yourself up on your elbow. “you don’t have to be perfect, severus. you never did.”

he glanced down at the grass for a moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. “i don’t know if i can ever be what you deserve,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

you reached out, gently touching his hand, your heart softening at the rawness in his voice. “you already are,” you said, meaning it with everything you had.

snape seemed to pause at your words, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to understand the depth of your sincerity. then, without warning, he spoke again, his voice quieter than ever.

“i love you, y/n,” he said, the words heavy and genuine, more than just a fleeting confession.

your heart skipped a beat. for a moment, time seemed to freeze around you, the world feeling as though it had narrowed down to just the two of you, lying on the grass beneath the vast, open sky. you smiled, your eyes softening as you leaned in slightly.

“i love you too, severus,” you whispered back, your voice just as quiet, but filled with warmth.

there was no need for anything more. no grand gestures or dramatic proclamations. the moment felt perfect in its simplicity. you both just lay there for a while, the world moving around you, but in that space between you two, everything felt still, calm, and right.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Because You Stayed

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Your relationship with Jake is new. Very new. Like one-month-old new. Too new for you to be pregnant with his baby, and yet, that's exactly the situation you're facing.

*This fic can be read alone, but it is also a "What if?" scenario for Oh, Baby.*

Warnings/notes: pregnancy, fluff. idk, that's probably it.

Words: 1459

---

It hadn't been long. That was the terrifying bit.

Yes, you'd known him for what felt like ages, but that time spent knowing him was missing the one way you'd always wished to know him most. For a year, you'd dreamed of being with him, pining in silence, until everything changed and you got your wish. 

It had only been a month since you took the risk and kissed him, and you and Jake had certainly used the time wisely. After that one month, you finally, deeply, truly knew him—all of him, in and out, up and down. You knew what made him feel good. You knew how to make him whimper. You knew that every time he came in you, he buried his face in your neck, kissing your sensitive skin with a groan in his throat.

And then suddenly, you knew you were pregnant.

In just thirty days, Jake Seresin managed to knock you up. 

Well, actually, that wasn't so accurate. According to your doctor, it only took your pilot one shot—his first shot with you—to get it done. You'd been pregnant for weeks and hadn't known until you realized you were too often exhausted and had an unusual lack of cramping for the time of the month.

You went through the stages, of course. The denial and acceptance and all those in between as your doctor stared at you, trying to understand the thoughts running through your head. It was wildly overwhelming, certainly. But despite it all, there was one other thing you knew by the time you pulled out of the office's parking lot: 

You wanted your baby. Which meant your entire world was going to flip on its side from that moment on. And after days of thinking, of going back and forth, you decided you were going to do the very same to Jake's. 

—

His mouth was on yours before you could breathe in the piney scent of his cologne. A desperate, greedy taking from your lips as he pushed you up against the closest wall of his home. He enveloped you like a man too long deprived. And you would've let him take you; you and everything he needed to feel good again if only your need to tell him your news wasn't so prevalent in your mind. 

"Jake, wait." The words slipped through the sliver of space that broke your kiss. 

He paused but didn't step away. His closeness kept his mouth brushing against yours, breaths mingling.

"What for?" He whispered.

"Because," you began, eyes slowly grazing up the length of his face until they met the heated stare of his green irises. You swallowed. "We have to talk."

In an instant, he ripped himself from your arms, forcing too many steps between you. Every bit of his body altered to match his frown. Eyebrows dipped in the center. Shoulders slumped forward the slightest. Your muscled man somehow shrunk in size and stature within mere moments.

"I did something, didn't I? I couldn't think of what it was, but I knew there had to be a reason," he said. The pain radiating from his form seeped deep into your pores. "You've been avoiding me for three days."

With a sigh, you said, "I know."

There was a sudden shift, and you could see it in him that he expected you to deny it. That maybe you had a decent excuse for your behavior. Too busy. Too stressed. Too tired to spend time with him. It was clear anything would have sufficed to ease his budding anxiety. Anything but the truth you had for him to hear.

"You're here to tell me we're over," he decided. 

The shock of his words kept you silent. It was the last thing you ever imagined he would believe. After all, you had been the one to take the leap that closed the gap between friendship and something more. He slept in your bed as often as you did in his. Your hearts were equally bare before one another, a development only made from your unwillingness to be without him a second longer. Never---you would never end it with him. But you didn't have time to say so before he was grasping your hands tightly in his. 

"Please," he started. There was a catch in his voice. "Please don't end this."

You shook your head. "Jake, you don't understand."

"Then help me. Explain it to me, Honey. Whatever I did—"

"You didn't do anything," you interjected. Then, considering your words, said, "Well, you did, but so did I."

"You?" he questioned with eyes wide. "Honey, what could you have possibly—"

"Jake, I'm pregnant."

He blinked. And blinked again. Lips parted then closed. One of his hands released yours so it could muss his traditionally neat blond locks, then his eyes fell to your stomach. 

"Pregnant." He stated, no hint of a question behind it. "You're pregnant with…with my…?"

You nodded.

The long breath he expelled ended with a small smile that softly curved the delicate line of his mouth. Barely noticeable. Locking his gaze to yours and noticing your uncertainty, he said, "It's alright. We will figure this out, ok? I promise." Fingertips swept across your cheekbone. "I mean, I can—I can be a dad."

Your jaw slackened. "You want it?"

"Our baby?" he asked, a wobble to his tone. His brows rose as the rest of his features fell from heartbreak. "Don't you?"

You could've fallen apart then, right in front of him, to let out the many sobs you'd held in over the last few days. A bout of carefree weeping just from the pure acceptance Jake was showing you and the child you'd made together. 

"You don't." He once again concluded from your silence.

"No, Jake. I do. I swear I do," you said, rubbing the back of your hand over your nose as you sniffled. "I just didn't think you would. I–I wasn't sure."

"Of course I want our baby," he stressed, squeezing your hands again. 

This distress on his face made something in your chest alternate between gentle flutters and vice-like constricting. To have his unexpected support alone was enough to solidify the concealed love you felt for him. But you couldn't ignore how your questioning and insecurity clearly caused him further hurt.

"You say that so easily without even thinking it over."

"There isn't anything for me to think over, Honey," he said. "It's you."

Whether consciously done or not, Jake's fingers tightened the slightest around yours when you untwined them so you could wrap your arms around his neck. You had no intention of pulling away as he'd somehow thought. You just needed him closer,  more firmly against you. You needed the solidity of his form to hold you together.

Pulling him in, you asked, "Do you really think we can do this?"

Jake's hands curled around your waist. "We can do anything."

"Everyone will think we're insane."

"Well," he sighed, then tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugged. "Probably. But this is our family. No one else's." A smile caused lovely crinkles to form at the corners of his eyes before he rested his forehead on yours. "And we can absolutely do this."

"You won't change your mind, right?"

"Never, Honey," he promised. "The two of you are mine."

—

"Are you nervous?"

Your fingers wove through his hair as his ear was resting against your stomach. Listening for any minute sound. Feeling for even the slightest movement.

His attachment to that part of you had grown exponentially since you started showing, and more often than not, his hands, his cheek, his lips were worshiping your lower abdomen.

"Not nervous," he said, looking up at you. "Excited. I want to see our baby."

There was a prickling in the corners of your eyes at his genuine joy. But that was a constant. Tears were common from the moment you found out when you were pregnant. They managed to come more often when Jake proved how much he loved you. And well, when he finally uttered those three words, your cheeks seemed to be damp on the daily. Everything he gave you, all at once, was so wonderfully overwhelming, and you didn't bother holding back.

Jake didn't shame you for it, either; just simply held you and kissed you and thanked you for being his.

"Do you want the doctor to tell us what it's going to be tomorrow?" You asked. 

"They don't have to. I already know."

You chuckled at his smirk, and in your testing tone, said, "Is that so? And what is our child, Lieutenant Seresin?"

"Oh, a girl. Definitely a girl," he said, laying his head back down close to your stomach. "You'll see."

-

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[selfindulgenceisthekey]

𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚞 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚞 𝚗𝚘 𝙼𝚒: 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/N: I have never written for One Piece before. In all honesty, I just started watching the anime. I’ve watched the live action, and I loved it, and I have read a lot of fanfic. Then my brain made this. So here we go.

“We have guests.”

It wasn’t a sentence you were unused to hearing, but normally you were given more time to prepare. You nodded, remaining quiet as Kurozawa stared silently for a beat, before stepping out of your room. One of your handmaids came in after he left, carrying whatever garment he wished you to dress yourself in tonight.

It was golden, as it always was. Thin straps on your shoulders, tight fitting and long, a slit along your leg. You’d look like treasure— his treasure.

You heard a little hum as the maid left, Eimi’s golden eyes, bright and wide, staring up at you questioningly. You smiled at her, running a hand through her hair, playfully poking the tip of her nose.

“Will you be okay by yourself for tonight?”

She shrugged, and that was enough confirmation. She had her papers and pencils, the one raggedy bunny you had managed to convince Kurozawa to buy her. If you played your cards right you’d even be able to bring her back some dinner.

Though, neither of you got your hopes up for that. You changed quickly, the typical routine engrained in your memory. Golden dress, golden jewelry, hair out of your face, minimal makeup, his brand on your bicep always uncovered.

Eimi tapped your hand, pulling your attention to her. She studied your face for a moment, before smiling, signing pretty in her own little language.

“Thank you, my dear,” You leaned down, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” You headed towards the door, trying to keep a brave face as you turned to her, “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

She huffed, but nodded. She never argued with your directions, brushing her teeth twice a day, bathing without complaint, never staying up too late.

The guards outside said nothing as you stepped out, locking the door behind you, and leading you down the halls. They were covered with art, paintings of the Kurozawa family, pottery far too expensive to look as cheap as it did.

You wondered who the guests this evening would be.

Marines? No, he would have made you dress just a bit more decent.

It wasn’t a fellow warlord, there would have been more gossip whispered through the halls.

You knew better than to ask the guards, the pair taking their place in the dininghall as you entered. You were momentarily surprised to see the guests were already seated, plates full of food before them.

Kurozawa was seated at his usual space, the head of the table, your seat to his left open, the plate, as usual, empty.

“There she is,” He grinned, and years of being accustom to him were the only thing keeping you from recoiling in disgust.

You kept your face stoic, head lowered as you took your seat. He continued to the guests.

“My song bird, ladies and gentlemen,” He introduced you to the group, and you could feel their curious gazes upon you.

Your eyes remained forward, the air of elegance as you sat, back straight.

“She doesn’t look like a bird.”

The sentence had you blinking, fighting the urge to look at whoever said that. Kurozawa snorted, amused yet annoyed at the stupidity.

“It’s merely a pet-name, strawhat.”

Wait.

Strawhat?

You glanced over, heart stuttering in your chest as you made eye contact with one Monkey D. Luffy. He was eating, looking back at you rather curiously. What—

What were the strawhat pirates doing here?

Kurozawa continued to speak, and you broke the staring contest that was going on between you and the pirate captain.

“Now, I am very grateful that you all have chosen to come visit. To be quite frank, your reputation exceeds you all. A powerful crew such as yourself.”

Ah, okay. That makes sense. He wanted to work with them; which meant he wants them to work for him. He’d hired pirate crews before, having them do his bidding. Pillaging and stealing, being the ones to be in trouble with the marines while he sat back and watched his gold pile up.

“With that being said; I’d like to make a deal with you.”

You watched with morbid curiosity, and mild disgust, as the strawhat captain continued to pile food on his plate. His stomach seemed like a never ending pit.

“What’s that?” Crumbs littered his mouth, and you had to fight the physical recoil.

His other members didn’t, the red headed woman, cat burglar Nami, you believe, wrinkled her nose at him, watching as crumbs littered the table before him. She looked like she was seconds away from scolding him. The blonde man, black-leg Sanji, shared an equally annoyed looked. They seemed to have manners, refraining from scolding the man for the mess he’s been making.

“I wish to hire you all, create a contract between the strawhats and the Kurozawa-family. For the foreseeable future.”

He sat back in his seat, cocky and confident as he always was, “Money is no issue, truly. You name your price, and I’ll set you up with weapons, men, and maps, so long as you do as I request of you.”

There was silence, the pirate crew all looking between each other, silent conversations being bad.

“Hey— is there any more of this stuff?” The captain waved around one of the bones from the lamb legs.

You saw the way Kurozawa’s eye twitched, his question being ignored entirely. He cleared his throat, clearly fighting to keep his temper in check.

“Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and a few servants hurried forward, more plates of food being placed on the table, taking away empty trays.

At the rate he ate there would be no leftovers to bring Eimi. That thought alone was the most disappointing part of this evening so far.

“Are you not going to serve your lady?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Kurozawa’s attention turned to black-leg, eyes narrowing at the question thrown his way. The blonde man’s head tilted your way, “Your songbird, her plates still rather empty.”

The gazes of the crew turned to you, and the rapt attention made your face heat up. Kurozawa laughed, a forced sound.

“She eats in the comfort of her own suite, she prefers her privacy. Now, back to my offer—”

The blonde man stood from his seat, the chair scrapping against the floor. He walked behind the others, who shook their heads, moving close to you. Your plate was soon filled with different items: meat and veggies, sauteed potatoes and toasted bread. The scent alone had your mouth watering.

“A lady should always be served first, especially one as beautiful as you,” His words were directed towards you, and you for once, found yourself silent, because you were unable to response.

Kurozawa slammed his fist against the table, cutlery rattling, and you jumped in your seat, tearing your gaze away from the pirate.

“Now,” He was seething, black-leg returning to his seat, “My offer. I—”

“Nah.”

The silence following the response nearly had you choking on your spit. Kurozawa was frozen where he sat. “Nah?”

Luffy shrugged, “Nami told me what you do. I don’t wanna work for you. Plus, helping you isn’t gonna help any of us get to the grand-line.”

You could see the vein popping out of Kurozawa’s neck. He wasn’t used to being told no, not so bluntly of course. Face red, he sat back in his seat, trying to force an aura of nonchalance.

“I can offer you a new ship, something better. Far faster.”

“No. I like my ship. She’ll get us where we need to go.”

He huffed, gaze turning towards you, anger and demand clear in his gaze. You held your sigh in, glancing down to your plate. You turned towards him, trying to will that feeling back into your chest.

“You won’t consider helping Sir Kurozawa?”

Luffy looked towards you, as did the others. This was the first time you’d spoken, or even looked up really, since entering the room.

“If he really needed help then sure, but he doesn’t. The only reason we came was ‘cause the invite said there’d be dinner!”

You could feel Kurozawa’s heated gaze on you. It didn’t work. That was fine, you could do it, you had to.

You tried again, “You should consider helping him, it’s rather important to him.”

“Look lady,” The swordsman spoke, voice gruff and startling, “You already have our answer.”

You could feel the panic growing in your chest, but you clamped it down. Panicking wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“You should consider helping him.”

You could see the words take effect, pausing his motions, eyes glazing over as your powers worked— finally. Kurozawa hummed, a pleased sound from the back of his throat.

“Alright,” You heard the unsheathing of swords as his crew reacted.

Oh no— you were so focused on ensuring you got to the captain your focus ignored the others. Guards in the area all stood at attention, swords and guns drawn.

“Now now,” Kurozawa spoke up, and you sat back on your seat, trying to curl into yourself as best as you could, “Let’s not act too hasty.”

Luffy’s eyes were clear now, staring at you with curiosity.

“That was so cool— how did you do that?”

“Luffy!”

“I—” You clamped your mouth shut, so fast your teeth clacked painfully.

You heard your name be called— barked almost. An order. You knew what that meant.

You stood, the same guards as earlier moving to your side to escort you back to your room. The full plate of food remained on the table, untouched. You were taken quickly back to your room, hearing voices back in the dining hall as you left.

“Hey wait— how’d you do that?”

“Luffy we have bigger problems than that!”

“Strawhat, you’d do well to not continue to deny my offer.”

You did your best to block out the noise as you got back to your room, the door unlocked and you stumbled in. Eimi was curled up on the bed, not asleep, and looked over at you curiously.

You were back far earlier than you normally were.

You smiled at her, “I wanted to make sure I got back before you fell asleep,” You hated that these little white lies came to you so easily when speaking to her.

She pouted, not entirely believing you, but she sat up, watching as you changed into one of the few sets of pajamas you owned. You slipped into the bed, her small frame hurrying to curl up in your arms. You hummed, a low tune, a simple lullaby you had made up for her.

She huffed, leaning back to look at you. You okay?

“I’m fine, Kurozawa wanted to talk business with his guests. Boring stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, and you pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, distracting her. “Shush now, it’s time to sleep, okay?”

Despite your hope that she’d nod off, she stayed wide awake, as did you. It was hard to sleep, with all you could hear. Even muffled, you could hear that fight that had started.

There was yelling, orders being barked from Kurozawa, no doubt throwing his men forward to hide from the fight himself. You could hear guns going off, the sound of swords clashing against each other. You wanted to scream into one of your pillows— but you knew you had to remain calm for Eimi.

God, you knew how greedy Kurozawa was, how horrible of a person he could be. But to go and make enemies of the Strawhats? What was his next goal— challenge Dracula “Hawk Eye” Mihawk himself? Sure, Kurozawa collected swords, beautiful and strong, but the man had never even held one.

Where he may lack in strength and brains he made up for in numbers. The amount of people under his thumb; indebted, paid, bought, rivaled almost any group you had heard of.

You felt the hairs on your arms stiffen, and though you weren’t sure for what, you sat up, hurrying to pull Eimi into your arms. She made a panicked noise, no doubt eyes wide as she stared up at you, but your attention was on the bedroom door.

The fighting sound was quieter but still there, but that wasn’t what caught your attention.

The guards outside were moving, calling out commands. Loud, metallic sounds echoed in the hall before there was silence. The door handle jiggled, and you moved quickly.

There weren’t any windows, Kurozawa was worried you’d try and escape anyway you could, just as there were no items you could use as a weapon.

Not without proper planning, at least.

You deposited Eimi in a corner, her little arms reaching for you broke your heart but you pulled away, quietly telling her to stay put. You opened a dresser drawer, frantically sorting through the stupid items before you found what you needed. It was small, and in a real fight would provide nothing for you. But in a moment of panic or surprise it could at least buy you time. A piece of sharpened, broken pottery, tied tightly to the end of a makeup brush.

Both items you had scored through “clumsy acts”, and both had resulted in punishment, but they at the very least gave you chance to form your own, mini scalpel type weapon.

The moment your fingers wrapped around it, the door flew open. Quite literally. Annoyed or frustrated with the lock, the person took to breaking it off the hinges, and you reared back, eyes wide as it fell to the floor.

Through the debris you saw him step in, hat still in place. Monkey D. Luffy walked in, eyeing the room curiously, before his gaze turned to you.

You were trembling, you could see it, less feel it, holding the sharp end of your weapon out towards him. You had moved so Eimi was behind you.

“Hello!” He sounded so childishly cheerful, as if he didn’t just knock out the guards outside your room and break the door down, “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, I’m gonna become the king of the pirates. I never learned how you did that at dinner— it was so cool! Did you eat a devil fruit?”

Pt. 2

[piarelei]

Training hop

Here's an angsty one, with some platonic Javy & Jake time. Can also be read as a sequel to Bullseye.

The moment Jake’s feet hit the tarmac, he knew he was in for a Bad One. He carried the anticipation of it in his shoulders, trying to roll it off his back but not succeeding. 

The sight of Bradley had him unfamiliarly wanting to turn right around, back to the cockpit and the welcoming chasm of the skies. He tipped back his head instead, all bravado and no guilt. 

Bradley had the decency to wait for them to be left alone. He didn’t have to wait a very long time: other aviators were staring Jake down with no small amount of disgust on their face. He didn’t let it get to him. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

Jake shrugged, walking lazily to the locker rooms. “Completed the hop, didn’t I?” 

Bradley pulled at his shoulder, turning him so that they were face to face. “You nearly killed Oslo.” 

“No. I simply flew my best, as usual. It’s not my fault if she’s not fast enough.” 

Bradley gritted his teeth. “What the fuck, Hangman?”

Jake shrugged him off. “I don’t even see how that fucking concern you, Bradshaw.” 

“You don’t see?” Bradley looked over his shoulder. “We are dating, asshole.”

“Yeah. And?” 

“And? Well, I don’t know. I thought maybe you had fucking changed, for one.” 

Jake had to swallow the impulse to bare his teeth. “You think that because I get my dick sucked on the regular, I’m going to lower my standards?” 

Bradley frowned. “I just thought you were not such a fucking asshole anymore. I guess I was wrong.” 

“I guess you were.” 

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to be a decent human being.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” 

“Right. Well. I don’t…” Bradley swallowed. “I don’t think you should come over tonight.” 

Jake went cold all over, hot flames put out by ice. “What does that fucking mean?”

Bradley took a step back, crossing his arms, stubborn. “That means that I don’t want to fucking see you tonight.”

Jake inhaled, trying to appease the sudden bruise under his ribs. “Alright. Whatever.” 

He turned and went to the locker room quickly. He didn’t want Bradley to hold him back. He didn’t want to hear the silence if he didn’t. 

#

Javy opened the door with a defeated face. “Well, at least you coordinated properly for once. Nat just left for Bradshaw’s.”

Jake grunted and pushed in, beer pack in hand. Javy simply followed him to the living room. They settled on the couch, Javy got the TV on, a non-sense rom com with fake laughing tracks, and opened two beers. Jake sipped on his first one for a good ten minutes, not seeing or hearing anything from the TV. 

“Right,” Javy said, sort of exasperated. “Get it out of your head or we’ll never get it over with.” 

Jake thought about it, then, shook his head. He had no idea where to even start.

“Okay, you know what, I think I know you enough to get the crux of it. You were an asshole while flying and Bradshaw lives in a fantasy where you’re suddenly nice to everyone and couldn’t handle it.”

Jake shrugged. 

“Well, break up with him.”

Jake turned to Javy, daggers in his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yes, actually. I am kidding you. God. Are you ready to talk?” 

Jake scoffed. 

“Right. So I guess I was right about things?” 

Jake nodded, making a face. 

“Okay. He’ll calm down.”

“But what is the fucking point of it, Javy? I’m not going to change.” 

Javy snorted. At Jake’s uncomprehending eyes, he leaned forward. “You already have, man. It’s fucking awful to witness, but you’re so much chiller now. You use to lose it all the fucking time on your wingmen. You never forgave small mistakes. Now? Shit, I’ve seen you give second, third chances.”

Jake took a sip of his beer. It tasted more bitter than usual. “I’m going soft. That’s not a good thing.” 

“Yeah, shut up, you’re still the best. You don’t have to be an asshole about it. Come on, no point to dwell on it. Bradshaw had always been so fucking angry all the time. Give him time to decompress. You can talk about it then.” 

Javy was the voice of reason. He plied Jake with a beer, then a second, then a third, until the world around was just cotton-soft. Jake let himself slide on the couch sideways, face smashed into Javy’s shoulder. 

A few hours later, the door opened and Javy had a hushed conversation Jake didn’t bother to listen to. He should have because a few seconds later, Bradley appeared in his line of sight, looking contrite. 

“Can I take you home, Jake?” No Hangman. 

Jake unsteadily rose to his feet. Bradley reached out to help him. Jake bid a quick goodbye to Javy and Natasha, already too focused on Bradley. 

The Bronco rumbled under them when Bradley started it. Jake sighed, slumping against the window. 

“I was an asshole today,” Jake admitted. 

When Bradley didn’t answer immediately, Jake turned his head to watch him. The streetlights were washing him in shades of yellow. 

“Sometimes,” Bradley started with some apparent difficulty, “I’m scared that the wingman that you leave behind is what is going to kill you.” 

Jake reached out slowly, trying to assess if he was welcome. “I’ll never let that happen.” 

Bradley grasped for his hand. “You won’t have a choice in the matter. There’s strength in numbers, Jake. I wish you would realize that.” 

Jake squeezed Bradley’s hand. “I do. I… I’m the asshole I am during exercise hops because I need everyone to be their best when we face the real deal.” 

“I know.” 

“Well…”

“I know, Jake. But I’m scared that one day people will hate you too much to go back for you.” 

Jake inhaled, kept his lungs full with his anxiety, until he let it all out slowly. “I’ll be retired the moment I fall behind.” 

Bradley shook his head, sighed. “I guess we’ll never agree on that.” 

“We don’t have to. You just have to trust me.”

Bradley shook his head. “We can compromise tomorrow. I’m exhausted and I want to go to bed before we talk about it again.” 

Jake nodded. “Are you dropping me off at mine?” 

Bradley gave him a glance, almost hesitant. “I would like you to go back to mine if that’s alright with you.”

Jake stared at the road ahead, feeling quietly pleased. “Sure.” 

Later, with Bradley curled all around him too warm and heavy, Jake thought that he would be willing to wear his standards down to the floor if it meant that he could keep this. He didn’t say it aloud in the morning, but he was sure that Bradley could tell.

Barely reread the thing, so my bad if there's any mistake. Hope you enjoyed, show some love with a reblog ♥

[corpsekiller]

hi! could i request gintoki x reader where he is being protective of his s/o? it could be any kind of scenario!

𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

PAIRING. gintoki sakata x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. fluff, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes

SYNOPSIS. while you're out drinking at a bar with gintoki, a stranger hits on you and gintoki shows a side of him you've rarely seen before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. my dear anon, i'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this. your request was wonderful and i hope you find this fic in the near future, even if you had to wait so long <3

LENGTH. 2.069 words

MASTERLIST

If anyone asked how you ended up here, you couldn't even explain.

The bar is dimly lit, warm light reflects off bottles of sake lined up behind the wooden counter stained with dust and dirt. The steady murmur of hushed conversations fills the air, the familiar scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke curls around your head as you slump back in your seat and let your eyes wander over the customers lounging at the tables, chatting quietly or laughing hysterically, downing one drink after the other.

Admittedly, it's not the nicest pub you've ever seen, not exactly a place you'd choose on your own considering the number of sleazy men you've already spotted lurking in the shadows of the room, drunkenly flirting with every woman that walks past them and throwing insults after them upon rejection before they throw themselves on a new prey, attempting to get in their pants.

Though sitting next to your best friend makes this rundown bar feel almost cozy if you ignore the shady barkeeper who has been sending you dirty looks ever since you stepped through the front door.

"Y'know, it's weird," Gintoki mutters, nursing his cup filled to the brim with sake and offering you a lazy grin when he finally catches your attention again and you turn around to look at him with a questioning arch to your brow.

His yukata is slightly askew, the white fabric of his sleeve slipping off his shoulder and his hair is disheveled, more than usual, though he doesn't seem to care — judging by the flush of his cheeks and the soft curve of his lips pulled into a drowsy smile, he has already had enough to make him stumble over his own feet on the way back home. "You hang out with me all the time, but you still haven't learned to handle your liquor. Just admit that you're an amateur!"

How ironic.

"Someone has to stay sober enough to drag your sorry ass home, Gin." You roll your eyes at his comment and take a tentative sip of your drink before you shift closer, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you look at him with a mischievous grin. "I don't wanna explain to the kids why you spent the night sleeping on a lonely park bench like a homeless loser. Don't forget you have to be a good role model for them."

"Ah, those damn brats," he groans and shakes his head, lazily twirling his drink as if deep in thought, though you doubt there's much going on in his mind, at least tonight. "They're the reason why I have another set of bills piling up on my desk," he complains, though there's no bite to his words. "Maybe I should sell the damn dog if we keep running shorter on food—"

"Maybe you could get a decent job, ever thought about that?"

"Oi, don't speak to the infamous Yorozuya Gintoki like that, young lady!" He scoffs and leans forward, pointing an accusatory finger at you as if you just spat into his beloved chocolate parfait right before his very eyes. "Did you forget that we repaired your roof the other day, huh? Without us, you'd soon have some creep peek through the hole in your ceiling and watch you sleep!"

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself peeking into my room?" You smirk, barely able to stifle a laugh when he gasps loudly and clutches his chest in offense.

The banter between you two has always been lighthearted, a steady rhythm of playful teasing and sarcasm that makes the days, no matter how dark, a little better, a little easier to survive. Beneath it all though, the jokes and the insults you both throw around as if you couldn't bear the sound of each other breathing, lies a deep understanding and a certain kind of affection neither of you really dares to name.

Just as you're about to counter another one of Gintoki's jabs, a shadow falls over your table.

"Hey there, pretty thing," a voice drawls, pulling your attention to the source of those words dripping with false friendliness — a man, seemingly already in his late 40s towering over you with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes linger on you, wandering over the length of your figure with an almost predatory glint that makes your stomach twist and turn in all the wrong ways. "Why don't ya leave this loser and have a drink with a real man, hm? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Instinctively you lean back, trying to get as much distance as possible between you and the stranger, though it's no use. Before you can utter a response, he moves closer and places a hand on your wrist and grazes over your arm to grab your shoulder. Unease settles in the back of your throat, a heavy feeling that ties your tongue and renders you unable to bite back with a snarky reply that might scare him off.

Just as you're about to pull back, his fingers still hovering above your shoulder, the table shifts and the glasses still filled with sake clatter auspiciously.

Then, Gintoki is suddenly in front of you, his hand wrapped tightly around the man's wrist. His knuckles are turning white from the sheer strength of his tight grip, but you notice a subtle tremor running through his body, his muscles straining and tensing under the thin fabric of his shirt as he slowly twists the stranger's arm into an unnatural position that makes him inhale sharply. Gintoki isn't looking at you, though — his eyes are fixed on the drunken jerk, and for once, there is no trace of his usual lazy grin that you've grown so accustomed to.

No, there was nothing but pure anger etched into the sharp features of his face.

"Oi, didn't your mother ever teach you not to touch things that don't belong to you?" His voice is calm, almost eerily so, but there is an edge to it that makes the air thrum with a certain kind of tension. The room around you grows quiet, so deadly silent that you're certain you could hear a pin drop and yet, you can't seem to turn your head to check if the other people are watching, can't force yourself to let your gaze wander away for even a second.

"What are you doing? Let go of me, you idiot!" The unknown man blinks in surprise, the smirk he wore only a moment ago slowly fading as his drunken bravado wavers before he attempts to jerk his hand free, pulling one, two, three times, but it's no use. Gintoki only huffs out a humorless laugh and slowly leans in closer, the crimson of his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim lighting of the bar.

"You think I'm a joke, huh?" He murmurs, low and alarmingly calm. "Look, dude, I'm the kind of guy who smiles even when I'm ticked off. So if I'm not smiling right now... you've really crossed a line."

There's a moment of silence as Gintoki merely stares at the stranger until he begins to squirm nervously, seemingly contemplating what he should do with him, then he pulls the man forward by his wrists and tilts his head to whisper something into his ear, though you can't make out what he's saying.

Whatever it is, it must be utterly terrifying because only a split second later, the man's eyes widen in pure horror. The color drains from his face and his mouth falls open in wordless shock as he gapes at your best friend, frozen in place, unable to move an inch like a rabbit caught in the jaw of a wolf.

Then, at last, with a rough yank that sends the creep stumbling back into another occupied table, Gintoki lets go of him and turns towards you. In an instant, his expression softens, a comforting reassurance replacing the storm that has been raging in his gaze ever since the stranger had tried to put his hands on you. Slowly, but surely, the tension around you slowly eased despite the steady pounding of your heart and you let out a breath you didn't you'd been holding, forcing your body to relax.

"Hey," Gintoki murmurs as he nudges your shoulder, his tone lighter now, almost gentle if you listen closer. "You okay?"

You swallow, nodding, though your voice still sounds treacherously shaky when you dare to speak up. "Yeah, I’m fine. I just… Thank you."

Somehow, those words feel too small, too meaningless to express what you're truly feeling — because in this very moment, with his hand still lingering protectively on the table between you and the space where the stranger stood, you realize something about your best friend that you never thought about before.

Sure, Gintoki and you have known each other for so long you barely remember your first encounter, and sometimes you'd almost dare to say you know him better than anyone else, always having each other's back, no matter what life threw your way, but tonight, it feels different.

He isn't just standing up for you — he's shielding you as if the idea of someone hurting you is something he can't bear.

"You don’t have to thank me for something like that," he mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor. A faint blush creeps up his neck and flushes his pale cheeks, barely noticeable in the dim lighting of the bar, and his hand shoots up to scratch at the back of his neck, fingers twirling strands of silver hair in an attempt to hide what seems to be embarrassment. "I mean, I was just… doing what I always do. I can’t just sit there when some jerk thinks he can lay a hand on you."

God, you don't think you've ever seen him look so bashful.

"Gintoki," you reply softly, hesitantly reaching out to brush your fingertips over his scared knuckles before you give yourself a push and grab his entire hand, circling his skin with the pad of your thumb in reassuring motions. "Tell me, why do you always look out for me like this?"

He glances at your hand, then back up at you. Something flickers in his eyes and for a moment, a split second, you catch a glimpse of what lies behind his facade of carelessness and boredom, behind the mean jokes and snarky comments, behind the slaps on the back of your head when you've gotten yourself into trouble for nth time that week — adoration, perhaps even love, though you think that word might be too strong.

"Because," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours, "even an idiot like me knows a good thing when he’s got it."

Fuck. Your heart stumbles in your chest and warmth begins to pool in the pit of your stomach, crawling up your spine until you feel your face flush, tinting your cheeks in a soft shade of pink as you try to process his sudden display of unexpected affection. Just as you open your mouth to respond, he flashes you that infuriatingly lazy grin and reaches across the table to snatch his drink, lifting his glass with a careless tilt to eye its content.

"So," he announces as if nothing has changed at all, a delicate pinky finger outstretched to cram around his left nostril in search of a booger, "let’s forget about that creep and enjoy the rest of our night, yeah? You’re stuck with me for now, whether you like it or not."

Completely bamboozled by the sudden shift in his demeanor, you can only gape at him. One second he's fierce and protective, showing a side of him you only ever catch in rare, fleeting glimpses, and the next, he's back to being his usual insufferable self, cool and detached as if none of it matters.

But despite the confusion — despite everything — you can’t help the soft smile that tugs at your lips.

"Yeah," you whisper, feeling your chest swell with something almost painfully sweet. "I think I’m okay with that."

And as the night stretches on, with the bar growing quieter around you, it doesn't matter how rough or chaotic the world outside might be, because right here, in this tiny corner of Edo, you know one thing for certain - as long as Gintoki is beside you, you’ll always be safe.

[q-gorgeous]

Sew Me Up and Keep Me Whole

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 7603

Thanks to seeing how various injuries are treated as a member of the football team, Dash actually has a decent background in first aid and anatomy. He gets adopted into Team Phantom when circumstances keep leading him to be the one patching up Phantom after fights.

ohohohhoho

Dash was walking home after a football game. He was exhausted and was looking forward to going to bed tonight. Plus there was a ghost attack at the end of the game so it ran extra long while they waited for it to be over. 

He turned into the park. It was dark in the park, but it made his trip home from the school faster. His dad would be even madder if he woke him up this late. He wanted to get back as soon as possible. 

He got to the wooded part of the trees when he heard something. It sounded like voices. 

“Tucker, you’re not doing it right.” Somebody whispered angrily. It sounded like Manson. 

“Do you want to try doing this?” He hissed back. “I’m the only one who’s taken a sewing class. You didn’t think you should be reduced to something so ‘stereotypically feminine.’”

“-’s not ev’n a fem’n’n thing.” Was that Fenton? “Sewing is a b-basic life skill…” 

“That’s not the point!” She hissed back at them. “My mom-” 

Dash stepped through the bushes and past the tree separating them and fell short. That wasn’t who he was expecting to be there.

Phantom sat in between Foley and Manson, not Fenton. As he stepped through the bushes their heads snapped up to look at him. Phantom’s head groggily lulled to the side as he looked at Dash.

“Ha. Jus’...what we need.”

Dash frowned. “What?” 

Phantom chuckled and closed his eyes.

“No! Don’t close your eyes!” Manson lightly slapped him. When he just groaned and leaned his head back against the tree behind him she slapped him harder.

“...Sam!” He pried his eyes open and glared at her. “Don’ hit m’..”

“You can’t fall asleep until Tucker is done with your stitches. If only he could just hurry it up.” Manson ground out.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Tucker breathed out, his hand shakily pulling another stitch through Phantom’s injury. “I don’t want to leave an ugly scar or make it worse by not doing it well.”

Dash stepped closer to where they were sat behind the bushes. Manson shot another look at him. He could finally see Phantom’s wound and it was pretty gnarly. Foley’s stitches were holding it closed but they definitely weren’t pretty. 

“Do you need help?” Dash asked apprehensively. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries during football practice. And I’m not squeamish like you, Foley.”

“Yeah? You know how to sew up wounds?” Manson spit out. “How is watching people get treated for wounds during practice the same as sewing up an injury?” 

Dash held up his hands. “It seems like Foley doesn’t know what he’s doing either. I know how to sew already. Isn’t that like halfway there?”

Foley looked at Manson. “If he can get it done faster than me, why not let him? We’re gonna run out of time.”

“How can we trust him?” Manson glanced at Dash, worrying her lip. 

“He is literally Phantom’s biggest fan except for maybe Paulina. Do you really think he’s gonna try to kill him?” 

A blush rose to Dash’s cheeks at Foley’s comment while Manson kept studying him. 

A few more moments went by before she looked back at Phantom. He smiled at her groggily.

She sighed. “Fine. Dash, get over here.”

His eyes widened, stunned that they actually accepted his help. He strode forward and knelt on the ground between Foley and Manson. Phantom looked up at him, the goofy smile still on his face. 

“Funny that y’ur the one h’lping me.” He chuckled.

“Why’s that?” Dash asked. Phantom just shook his head and chuckled again.

“Here.” Foley handed him a pair of gloves. “We don’t know if his ectoplasm can irritate or damage skin. We haven't felt risky enough to try it out yet.”

“How often do you guys do this?” Dash snapped his gloves on and took the needle from Foley. Phantom smiled wistfully.

“I get hurt a lot.” 

Dash hummed as he made his first stitch. “Well that’s not good.”

“Yeahh.. ghosts suck. And also bullies. They can hurt pretty bad sometimes too.”

Shame wriggled into Dash’s stomach as he made another stitch. What would Phantom think of him if he knew he was a bully himself?

Phantom hummed a wistful sigh as he watched Dash sew his wound closed. 

“Y’know, ‘ur pretty cute.”

Dash’s brain stopped for a moment and spent a second processing what Phantom said. He felt like he was short circuiting.

“What?” Dash asked. 

Tucker burst out laughing. “Man, you’re not gonna live this one down.” Sam shushed him. 

Dash continued sewing Phantom’s wound closed as he tried to get his bearings. He never would’ve thought his hero would think of him like that. 

“So.” He said, pulling the thread tight. “Are you guys friends?”

“We’r’ bes frie-” Sam covered his mouth.

“We help him with ghost fights. We don’t know him that well.” 

“Oh. It just seemed like you guys are pretty close. He must trust you two a lot.” 

Dash finished up his last stitch. “There we go. You’re all closed up.” 

Phantom smiled at him again as Dash pulled off his gloves and put them in a bag Tucker held up to him. “Tha’ was s’much faster than Tucker.” 

“Much cleaner stitches, too.” Sam said, leaning down to look at them. 

“‘Thank you for trying, Tucker. We’re so grateful for you, Tucker.’” He mumbled out as he put all their supplies back in his bag. 

“C’mon, Tuck!” Phantom lulled his head in Tucker’s direction. “You’ve stitched up so… so many stitches before now. I’d’d have bled out so many times over with-without you.”

“Thank you, D- Phantom.” 

Dash pushed himself up off the ground and stretched. “Do you guys need help getting him back… Wherever he needs to go?”

“We can take him back to my house.” Sam stood up. “My parents are those people who go to bed at eight o’clock and get up at some ungodly hour for their office jobs.”

“Can you stand, Phantom?” Tucker asked him.

Phantom shakily tried to stand up. He only made it up part way before he fell back to his knees. 

“Here.” 

Dash bent down and picked Phantom up bridal style. He adjusted his hold on him until he was holding him comfortably. 

“Okay.” Dash turned to look at Sam. “Lead the way.”

He followed behind Sam and Tucker as they walked through the trees. Phantom was much heavier than what Dash would expect from a ghost. He figured ghosts would be light as a feather since they could fly, but Phantom felt so much like a human it was uncanny. 

Phantom leaned his head back into the crook of Dash’s neck. He took a sharp breath in as he felt Phantom’s breath ghost against his neck. 

Dash looked down at Phantom and his eyes were closed, but after a few moments of Dash staring Phantom peeked an eye open. 

He jumped and looked back up at Sam and Tucker. They were whispering between themselves, shooting glances back at Dash. Phantom chuckled.

“Thank you for helping us.”

Dash looked back down at him. Phantom already seemed to be more coherent than when Dash first stumbled upon them. 

“Of course. You should probably thank your friends for letting me help you. They were pretty skeptical at first.” 

Phantom shrugged. “They’re just looking out for me. They’re protective.” 

“So you are friends?” Dash asked. Phantom looked at Sam and Tucker. 

“Yeah. They’re the best friends I could’ve asked for.” 

“Are you friends with the Fenton kid too?” Dash asked.

Phantom turned to look at Dash sharply. “The Fenton kid?”

“Yeah.” Dash nodded. “Danny. Hangs around with those two. Kind of a freak.”

Phantom frowned at him and turned away from him. “Oh. The ghost hunter’s son? No. Why would I be friends with him? His parents would tear me apart.” 

“Oh. Yeah that’s true. Those three just never go anywhere without each other so I thought maybe he was in on this too. He’s a dork anyways.” 

“We’re here.” Sam called behind them. 

Dash looked up to see Sam and Tucker stopped in front of a set of stairs leading to Sam’s front door. Phantom suddenly jumped out of Dash’s arms and winced once his feet hit the ground. It set Dash off balance and it took a moment for him to regain it. 

Phantom walked over to where Sam and Tucker were waiting. 

“Will you be okay?” Dash called to him.

“Yeah.” Phantom said without looking back at him. “I’ll be fine.” 

He walked away from Dash without looking back at him. The three of them walked inside the door and shut it behind them. 

He stood there and stared at the closed door. A pit formed in his stomach but he’s not sure what happened. 

He turned around and started the short trek home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash was walking in the hallways of Casper High. He was heading to his next class. He just wanted this day to be over with.

Up ahead of him he saw Fenton and his friends. He smirked and started walking faster to catch up with them. 

“Hey, Fentoadally lame! Where do you think you’re going!” 

He saw Fenton’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. He looked over his shoulder at Dash, an angry grimace on his face. 

“Anywhere away from you.” 

The hallways were starting to clear out as it got closer to the bell. He caught up to them and grabbed Danny by the shoulder, turning him around and slamming him into the lockers to their left. He glared up at Dash.

“What do you want, Dash?”

Dash sneered down at him. “I want to get my afternoon wailing in before I lose my chance and you disappear for the rest of the day like you did yesterday.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “And why does your wailing have to be on me?”

“Because you’re my favorite nerd to wail on.” Dash said as he pulled his arm back, ready to hit Danny. 

“Excuse me!” 

Something hit Dash in the back of the head. He hissed and when he turned around he saw Sam holding her boot in her hand, glaring at him. 

“What the hell, Manson?” He rubbed the spot she had hit. “What’s that boot made of?” 

“Steel toe.” Tucker said from where he stood, far away from the action. 

“How’s it feel, Dash? Huh? Do you like getting hit? Do you want to know what it’s like to get beat up for no reason every single day?” Sam spat at him.

He took a step away from her. He already knew what that was like. He didn’t need to know what it would be like, just from a different person. 

“Sam-” Danny tried stepping out from behind Dash to get to her but there wasn’t enough room for him to move. 

“Why should we let you keep helping us with Phantom if we can’t trust you to leave our friend alone?”

“What?” Dash asked, incredulous. “How are either of these things related?” 

Sam walked up to him and poked him in the chest. Distantly Dash could hear the late bell ringing. “Because how do we know you wouldn’t turn on Phantom? That if we relied on you, that you would actually be there to help him?”

“But Phantom is-”

“A person, just like Danny.” Sam said. “Just because Danny isn’t your ‘hero’ doesn’t mean he deserves to be a punching bag.”

Dash rolled his eyes. “Fenton just asks for it.”

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, you know what? We won’t need your help anymore, Dash. We were doing just fine without you. We’ll manage.” 

“I didn’t want to have to associate with you nerds anymore than I have to anyways.” Dash tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the idea of not being able to help Phantom anymore.

“You know, I’ve heard that Phantom doesn’t like bullies.” Fenton said from behind him.

Dash turned and frowned at him. “What do you know?” He shoved Fenton into the lockers one more time and walked away from them. He could hear Sam furiously whispering with Danny about something but Dash tried to tune it out.

Where did Manson get off threatening to beat him? That’d just make her a hypocrite, wouldn’t it? Doing the very thing she hates? 

Whatever. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t make it so Phantom couldn’t talk to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, I’ll see you later, Kwan!” Dash said as he walked out of the Nasty Burger. Kwan turned around where he was walking the opposite way down the sidewalk.

“Yeah! See you tomorrow, buddy!” Kwan shouted back at him. 

Dash smiled as he started his walk home. Kwan was always pretty good at cheering him up. He’d had a pretty bad week. Every time he’d gone to Phantom to try to talk to him he’d up and disappear or fly away before Dash could even get a word in. Sam and Tucker must’ve said something to him about what happened with Fenton. 

He sighed. He’d probably never get to talk to Phantom again at this rate. 

He heard some rustling coming from the alley he was coming up on. He paused just before it. Nothing good ever came from inside alleyways. 

“Tucker, where are you- Danny, he-” 

He could hear Manson’s panicked voice coming from inside the alley. He crept forward. 

Dash looked into the alley to see Sam desperately talking on the phone. Phantom sat on the ground in front of her. She was holding a rag to his stomach. 

“No, no I already have the supplies. I can’t-”

A tear streamed down her face. “Tucker, I need you. I can’t do this without you.” 

Phantom’s eyes slowly opened. He tilted his head towards the end of the alley that Dash was standing in. He locked eyes with him, taking a deep breath.

“Sam..”

She looked up at him. When she saw where he was looking, she followed his gaze until her eyes landed on Dash. Her eyes widened. After a few moments of staring, she put her phone back up to her ear. 

“No, Dash- Dash is here. He just walked up. He- He could probably help us again. Just one more time.” 

Dash jumped. How serious was it this time that she couldn’t wait for Tucker?

“Dash, get over here!” 

He jumped again at her call, but ran to them inside the alley.

“Can you stitch him up again?” She pleaded. “I know what I said, but I-”

“It’s fine.” Dash said. “I’m not that petty that I’ll refuse to save his life just because you don’t like me.” 

She pulled a first aid kit out of her backpack and handed it to him. “You’re mean to me and my friends. I don’t want to be around you if you’re going to bully us.” 

“Tch.” Dash scoffed. He pulled on a pair of gloves. “As if you aren’t just as mean to us. You go around antagonizing Paulina and forcing things that you want to do on other people.”

She rolled her eyes. “You literally beat people up and stuff them into their lockers. That is not the same thing.”

“Yeah, well-”

“As much as I love watching Sam tell it to you, can you guys hurry it up?”

Dash and Sam looked at Phantom. He had one eye squinted open and he was looking between them. 

“Sorry.” Dash said. He threaded the needle and got started stitching up Phantom’s wound.

They were silent while Dash worked. His stitches were quick and soon Dash was done. He sighed.

“I actually used to be friends with them when we were younger. Before they met you.” 

“What?” Sam turned to stare at him. “Why are you so mean to them then?” 

“My parents didn’t like Fenton’s parents. Or all the nonsense they were spouting about ghosts. I’d come home and tell them all about it and they thought the Fenton’s were ‘corrupting my mind’ or something like that.”

Phantom turned his head to look at Dash. 

“My parents told me I couldn’t be his friend anymore. And I told Danny that, but he didn’t get it. And he and Tucker were a package deal at that point. They were more inseparable than me and Danny had ever been. So I just… told them that I didn’t want to be their friend anymore. That they weren’t cool enough. I think I hit one of them. They didn’t go out of their way to talk to me after that.” 

They sat in silence for a moment after that. 

“Parents, amiright?” Sam said quietly, as she looked at Phantom. “My parents are like that. They try to get me to stop being friends with Danny all the time but I argue too much with them for it to ever stick. Or I don’t tell them when I’m hanging out with Danny.”

“At least you have that luxury.” Dash looked at the ground. “If I don’t listen to my parents… Well, they like to use their fists more than their words.” 

Sam covered her mouth.

Dash let out a short laugh.

“And now ghosts are real and they keep asking me all sorts of questions like they expect me to remember the things they told me were bad and wanted me to forget.”

Dash was startled when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up and saw that Phantom was still staring at him. 

“It’s not your fault.”

Dash shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He shifted so that instead of kneeling on his knees, he was sitting on the ground. He ran his hands through his hair roughly. 

“It is my fault!” Dash ground out. “I didn’t have to treat them the way I did! I could’ve broken the cycle but now I’m just like my parents.” 

“You don’t have to be.” Sam said. “There’s always time to change. Hell, admitting to how shitty you’ve been is a pretty good start.”

Dash sighed. Phantom looked like he was about to say something but he was interrupted by Tucker sprinting into the alley, out of breath.

“I’m here! I’m here. Did you guys get it figured out?”

Sam nodded and gestured at Dash. “He helped us out again. He really came in clutch there.”

Dash nodded and stood up. “I guess I should get going now. I don’t want to-”

“Wait!” Sam held her hands up in a stop motion. She stood up to look at him. “Do you want to join team Phantom?”

“What?” Tucker looked at her, shocked. “Why are you asking Dash to join the team? I thought you-”

“Clearly having another person around will be beneficial.” Sam interrupted Tucker without looking at him. “You’ve already helped us twice. You could even teach us to sew and stitch up wounds better.” 

Dash looked between the three of them. He wasn’t a part of whatever they had going. Would they really be okay with him joining their team? Did they really want him to be a part of it? Or was it just a pity offer? 

“Why would you want me to join your team?” Dash said quietly. 

“You care more than I thought you did.” Sam said.

Dash laughed. That didn’t seem like a very concrete reason.

“Break the cycle.”

Dash looked back up at where Phantom still sat on the ground. He was staring at Dash. 

“Break the cycle.” He said again. “Prove that you can be better. If not for us, just do it for yourself.”

Dash looked away. He nodded. That sounded like a good reason. Work to break the cycle his parents put him in. He nodded again.

“Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll join Team Phantom.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash stood outside Tucker’s door awkwardly. Tucker said now would be a good time to come over so they could practice sewing. He hasn’t knocked yet though. He hadn’t been back here since they were all still friends. 

He lifted his hand up and paused for a moment. Finally, he brought his fist down on the door and knocked twice. 

“I’ve got it!” Tucker shouted from inside the house. He heard some shuffling and then a muffled, “Mom!” 

Then the door opened, but instead of Tucker it was his mom. His eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. She looked behind her where Tucker was standing and then looked back at Dash. Tucker shrugged behind her. 

“Why, Dash, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. How have you been?” She asked him. 

He nodded. “Good, good. Things have been fine. How have you been?” 

“Things have been good here.” She looked between Tucker and Dash again. “What brings you over after so long?”

“I, uh..” Dash stammered. They didn’t come up with an excuse. He really couldn’t tell her they were practicing sewing so they could sew up wounds. 

“Class project!” Sam’s voice came from down the steps behind him. He turned to see  her hurrying up the stairs. “We’re going to be working on our sewing today for class. Dash is going to practice with us.”

“Ohh.” Tucker’s mom nodded. “Well that sounds fun. Do you guys have any projects in the making?”

“We’re not quite there yet, mom.” Tucker said as he stepped forward. “We’re still learning so we’ll probably just be sewing squares of fabric together.” 

She nodded again. “Let me know if you kids have any questions. I know a thing or two about sewing myself.” She smiled at them.

“Thanks, mom. We will.” Tucker waved them into the house and then closed the door behind them once they were both inside. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

He followed behind both Tucker and Sam as they made their way up the stairs. He hadn’t been here in a very long time but little had changed over the years. Except for maybe new photos that had been hung up on the wall. 

They reached the top of the stairs and then Tucker pulled down the attic door and unfolded the ladder. They climbed up there and Dash had the fleeting thought that if they wanted to make him disappear, an attic would be a pretty good place to make that happen.

“Boo.”

Dash jumped as a voice spoke close into his ear and then laughter erupted from an invisible mouth.

“Oh that was good. I haven’t been able to get Sam or Tucker that good in a long time.”

Phantom dropped his invisibility and appeared in front of Dash. Dash chuckled nervously. 

“Phantom, don’t be too mean to him. We’re trying to make amends, remember?” Sam called to them while she and Tucker dug through some box.

“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom waved her comment off. He looked back at Dash. “I gotta have fun with this whole ghost thing somehow though, right?”

Dash nodded. “I can’t say I would be so chivalrous if I had your powers. I’d probably be sneaking into the girl’s locker room or something.”

“Eh. It was exciting the first couple times but now the novelty has worn off.”

Dash’s eyes widened. Phantom went to spy in the girl’s locker room? 

“Anyways.” Phantom drawled out. “What will I be doing today?”

Dash stared at him. “You’ll also be learning to sew.”

Phantom frowned. “Why?”

“If Sam or Tucker, or even me, ever get hurt during one of your ghost fights it might be useful for you to know. Or if you ever have an occasion where you’re alone and need to do it yourself, if you’re able to of course.” 

“Are you gonna be like, our teacher?” Sam asked Dash. 

Dash shrugged. “I can explain the basics but this is mostly just practice time.”

They got to work practicing their sewing. Sam and Tucker were working together on the other side of the attic while Dash worked with Phantom. They had cut up squares of fabric that they were sewing together. Phantom looked up at Dash as he pulled a thread through his two pieces he had in his hands. 

“Why’d you learn to sew?” Danny asked. “It’s not something most guys pick up.” 

Dash shrugged. “My parents liked to wreck a lot of my things growing up. They destroyed a lot of stuffed animals, but when they ripped apart the last teddy bear I got from my grandma before she passed away I decided I was going to take it into my own hands and fix it.”

“Oh.” Phantom’s shoulders dropped and he looked at Dash sadly. “I’m sorry they did that.” 

“They’re not good people.” Dash made a couple more stitches on his own squares in his hands. “It hurt when I realized that.” 

Phantom nodded. “Sometimes I worry that my parents are bad people. They want to hurt me but I know they’re not actually bad.”

“How are they not bad? You just said they want to hurt you.” Dash frowned at him. 

“It’s more complicated because of the whole ghost thing.” Phantom shook his head. “They don’t know who I am.”

Dash’s eyes widened. “What? How can they not know?”

Phantom’s sad expression turned into a smirk. “I’ve got to keep some of my secrets.” 

Dash rolled his eyes. “Okay, Inviso-bill.” 

“Hey!” Phantom pushed his shoulder. 

His skin tingled where Phantom had touched him through his jacket. They smiled at each other and Dash looked back down at the fabric in his hands. They worked for another couple moments before Phantom spoke again.

“What if we sewed them all together?”

“What?” Dash looked back up at him. 

“The squares.” Phantom held up his small pile he had gathered while they were working. “We could sew all the squares we make together and turn them into a blanket.”

“Ohh. That’d be cool.” He turned around in his seat. “Yo, Manson. Foley!” 

They turned around to face him. “What?”

“Phantom wants to turn our squares into blankets.”

“I like that idea.” Tucker said. 

“Does your mom have a sewing machine? It might be easier to sew all the rows together with the sewing machine once we get that far.”

Tucker nodded. “Let me go ask her for it.” 

He headed downstairs. Sam stood up and walked over to them. 

“How’s your practice going?” She asked. 

“Good.” Phantom held up his work so far. The stitches were getting neater and tighter as he showed Sam his progress. 

As Dash was showing Sam his own squares, Tucker made his way back up the ladder to the attic. He hefted the sewing machine up onto the floor and climbed up with some extra fabric and some kind of stuffing. He let out a breath. 

“My mom gave us some fabric and some quilt batting so we can finish turning it into a blanket.”

“How do we decide who gets to keep the blanket?” Dash asked.

Phantom looked at him. “I think you should get it. We can always make more if we’re going to keep practicing sewing. You should get the first one.”

“Yeah.” Sam said. “It can be a thank you for taking the time to teach us and practice with us.” 

“Let’s get this bad boy finished.” 

They spent the next couple hours practicing sewing the squares by hand and once they were all sewed together Dash took them to the sewing machine. They got all the rows assembled and the blanket put together with the stuffing inside. Dash stood up and held it up for everyone to look at.

Tucker clapped. “Great work everyone. Just, wow.” 

Sam rolled her eyes. 

Dash lowered it and smiled at them.

“Here.” 

Phantom floated forward and grabbed the other end of the blanket and helped Dash fold it. Their fingers met as they folded it together. Phantom passed his end to Dash and their fingers grazed as he pulled away. 

“Thanks.” They stared at each other for a few moments. Dash cleared his throat. “Well. I should get going. It’s getting kind of late.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Sam checked the time on her phone. My parents are gonna start calling me if I don’t get home soon.”

“Thanks for helping us out Dash.” Phantom called as Dash started making his way down the ladder. Dash smiled at him. 

“Thanks for giving me the chance.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash stepped out of the school. It was empty in the schoolyard. Dash had had to stay late to finish up a test with one of his teachers. 

“Hey.”

Dash jumped at the voice beside him. Phantom flickered into visibility. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” Dash pouted. 

Phantom shrugged and held his head in his hand as he floated next to Dash. “It’s funny. Like I said, I can’t get Sam and Tucker like that anymore.” 

“Where are they anyways?” Dash crossed the street in front of the school and started the walk home. 

“They’re busy.” Phantom groaned and flipped onto his back midair. “They had some very important stuff to do and they said I couldn’t come with them.”

“So tragic.” Dash smiled and shook his head at Phantom’s antics. 

Phantom laughed as he floated backwards on his back beside Dash, his arms crossed behind his head. Dash smiled as he watched him, a warm feeling growing in his chest. Phantom’s smile felt like the sun. 

“I think they’re trying to surprise me for my birthday. It’s coming up soon.”

Dash’s eyes widened. “You still celebrate your birthday?”

Phantom shot a look back at him. “Yeah? Don’t you still celebrate yours?” 

“Yeah, but you’re a ghost. Wouldn’t you celebrate your death day instead?”

Phantom scrunched up his nose and stared at a point from where they had come. “I try as hard as I can to not think about my death day. It was painful.”

“What was it like? Dying?”

Phantom turned to face Dash. He studied his face for a moment before he spoke. 

“I-”

A roar sounded from ahead of them on the street they were walking down. A ghost turned around the corner of a building and stared down at them. 

“Stay back.” Phantom said to him and flew away. He flew circles around the ghost's head and soon it was facing back the other way. It roared when Phantom shot an ectoblast between its eyes. 

It swung at him again and again, its slow paws trying and trying to hit Phantom. 

“You sure are slow!” Phantom smirked at the ghost and spun onto his back. “You fight like my sister.” 

The ghost roared again and Phantom flew back to avoid the swipe but he didn’t move fast enough.

The ghost scratched Phantom across the chest as he flew back. Dash could hear him hiss from where he stood on the ground. 

“That’s all you got, ghost?” Phantom held his fists back up.

As if taking that as a challenge, the ghost shrieked. It reared up for another hit. Phantom dodged the first one but wasn’t so lucky the second time. 

When the ghost’s claws connected with Phantom, Dash could hear the sound of his suit ripping. The ghost spun and sent him flying backwards down the street. 

“Phantom!” Dash shouted as he turned to look where Phantom had been thrown behind him. 

He laid there on the ground. He was hardly moving. The ghost started closing in, not paying any mind to Dash. 

“Hey!” Dash swung his arms in the air, trying to get the ghost’s attention. It finally looked down at him and paused. 

“Yeah! Leave him alone!” Dash shouted. He stuck a hand into his backpack and pulled out that lipstick laser that Tucker gave him. He aimed it at the ghost and took a shaky shot. 

It hit the ghost in the chest and it roared, charging at him. Dash took a step back but he yanked his backpack off, desperately digging out the thermos. He shakily pulled it out of his backpack just as the ghost was getting to him and he pressed the button. 

The ghost loomed over him before it got sucked into the thermos. Once it was gone, Dash closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Then his eyes snapped back open and he turned around.

Phantom. 

He ran down the street to where Phantom lay. Phantom’s eyes opened as Dash got closer. Thank god. 

“Hey. How bad is it?” Dash asked as he dropped down to his knees on the pavement. 

Phantom hissed as he sat up. “Not the worst I’ve ever had. I’m not sure any of these need stitches.”

“Are you sure?” Dash studied his suit where it was torn. “I could literally hear your suit get shredded from where I was standing.” 

“Yeah.” Phantom nodded. “I think a good chunk of things I need to have stitched up are because I kept fighting and tore them and made them worse.” He looked up at Dash. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me with that ghost.” 

“Whaat? It was nothing.” Dash smiled at him.

Phantom laughed. “I could see you shaking in your boots from here.” 

Dash crossed his arms and turned his nose up away from Phantom. “Fighting ghosts is a lot scarier without fancy ghost powers.” 

“Yeah, but really, thanks.”

Dash looked back at Phantom. He couldn’t help it. It was the first thing he could think to do. He wasn’t going to just let a ghost get him when he couldn’t fight. 

Dash was lost in thought for a moment before his mind wandered back to Phantom’s injury. 

“Do you at least want that bandaged even if you don’t need stitches?”

Phantom nodded. “Yeah. It’ll help stop the bleeding.”

Dash dug through his backpack where it sat next to him when he dropped it. He pulled out his first aid kit. 

“Gauze or giant band aid?” Dash asked. 

Phantom looked down at his chest where the scratches were. He thought for a moment. 

“Probably gauze. I think these are too long for a giant bandaid.”

Dash nodded. He pulled the gauze out and turned back to Phantom. He blushed.

“What?” Phantom asked. 

The thought of Dash asking Phantom to undress was frazzling Dash’s brain. He only had to unzip the top part of his jumpsuit but he’d never seen Phantom in anything besides that before. What would he look like underneath? 

“I need, uh, you to unzip the top part of your jumpsuit so I can wrap the gauze around your chest.”

Phantom looked back down at his chest. “Oh.” He unzipped the front of his jumpsuit and pulled his arms out. He looked back up at Dash.

Dash’s blush went all the way up to his ears and he tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. Phantom’s skin was so different from other ghosts. He was so much more human-like than them. 

Phantom held his hand out for Dash and he looked back up to his face. 

“I can do this if it’s too weird for you.”

“It’s not weird!” Dash blurted out. “I just, uh- I don’t-”

Phantom grabbed the gauze out of Dash’s hand and started wrapping it around his chest. “That’s okay. Sam was kind of awkward the first time she had to do this too.”

Dash nodded, but he was disappointed. This could’ve been an opportunity to get close to Phantom. To maybe graze a hand against his skin. Feel what a ghosts skin would-

“Dash?”

He jumped. “Yeah?”

“I’m all done. Here.” Phantom tossed the roll of gauze back to Dash. He fumbled to catch it and when he did he stowed it back in his first aid kit. 

Dash put everything back in his backpack and threw it back on his shoulder. He stood up and waited for Phantom to shove his arms back into his sleeves before he offered his hands to help Phantom up. 

Phantom looked at them for a moment before he reached up and grabbed onto Dash’s hands. Dash pulled Phantom to his feet and then they just stared at each other. Dash’s grip on Phantom’s hands tightened. He took a step closer to Phantom but then someone shouted at them. 

“Look! It’s Phantom!” 

Dash looked up around him and was shocked to see how many people had gathered around them. Where had they all come from? Were they all watching the ghost fight from their homes?

“Phantom, who is this boy? Why is he helping you?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Who would be crazy enough to date a dead person?”

The voices clamored around them and Dash felt like they were pressing in on him. Phantom glanced at him and let go of his hands and instead wrapped an arm around his side.

“Gotta go!” 

“Wait, wha-!” 

Dash yelped as he was pulled into the air with Phantom as he took off in flight. He’d never flown before. Not even in a plane. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arm around Phantom’s shoulder. The flight was quick and soon they were touching down on the ground. 

Dash peeked an eye open and saw that they were standing in front of his house. 

“That was fast.” Dash said, out of breath. 

“Yeah.” Phantom smiled at him. “My top speed we’ve clocked so far is a hundred and twelve miles per hour. I can get anywhere in town pretty darn fast.” 

“Dang. That’s cool. Kinda scary.”

Phantom smiled. “You get used to it after a while.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Phantom seemed to remember he was still holding onto Dash. He coughed and pulled his hand away and it drifted across Dash’s back, leaving a trail of butterfly inducing tingles.

“Well, I gotta go. I have things to do.”

Dash let out a nervous laugh. “How busy can a ghost possibly be?”

“Like I’ve said, I’ve got to keep some of my secrets.”

Phantom started floating up into the air.

“Aw, come on. We’re not close enough for that yet?” Dash shouted up at him.

He smiled down at Dash. “Not quite. Maybe one day.”

Phantom waved down at Dash and then he flew away. Dash’s heart fluttered and he waved back belatedly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash was laying in bed. He was ready to go to sleep after such a long day. He could almost fall asleep right now.

He started drifting off but was interrupted a moment later. 

Phantom flew through Dash’s bedroom wall and crashed onto his bed. Dash jumped up and stared at the boy that was suddenly next to him. 

“Phantom?” Dash exclaimed. 

He was curled up on his side next to Dash, holding his stomach. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Tucker is out of town and the far frozen was too far away for this one- ah!” He clenched his stomach again. 

“No, no. That’s what I’m here for. That’s why you guys agreed to let me join your team. So that there was someone else there to patch you up.”

Phantom shook his head. “This one’s worse. There’s a chance I’ll-”

A white ring appeared around his waist. Phantom tensed up and groaned before it disappeared again.

“What was that?” Dashed asked, staring.

Phantom shook his head. “You need to start stitching the wound up now. If we wait it’ll start bleeding faster. We can’t-” He tensed up again. Sparks flew around his middle. “We have to hurry.” 

At Phantom’s plea, he hurriedly got up and grabbed his first aid kit from under his bed. He kneeled down and Phantom turned to his side to face him.

“Can you uncurl for me? I need to take a look.” 

Phantom nodded and slowly pulled his arms away from his stomach. They were covered in ectoplasm. Dash gulped and studied the wound. It was deep. Ectoplasm was steadily oozing out of it. He pulled a pair of gloves on. 

“This is pretty deep, what if I can’t-”

“Sewing it shut will help.” Phantom grimaced. “Once the wound is shut my healing abilities will have an easier time mending it.” 

Dash nodded. “Okay.” 

He took a deep breath and got started. Phantom flinched with every touch of the needle. Dash was halfway done when the ring appeared around his waist again. Phantom struggled to push it away, but it disappeared after a few seconds. 

“Phantom.” Dash kept stitching the wound closed. “What’s happening?” 

“I can’t keep it back anymore.” Phantom ground out. “When I transform, I’m going to start bleeding much faster. You have to keep stitching me up, no matter what.”

“What? When you transform? What does that-”

The rings appeared around Phantom’s waist a final time. Dash tried to keep his focus on stitching Phantom’s wound, but then the rings split. They revealed a very familiar shirt underneath them. 

“I’m sorry.”

The rings finished traveling over the rest of Phantom’s body. Dash’s hands shook as the ectoplasm that was steadily coming out of the wound turned into blood. The pace increased and Dash got a glimpse at Phantom’s face as the rings went over his head and Danny Fenton was left in his place. 

Danny met his gaze for a moment and then his eyes fluttered closed.

“Danny?” Dash whispered.

He didn’t move and Dash went back to stitching up the wound. He was almost done and he was hoping this would be enough. That Danny wouldn’t…

He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. He had already seen the impossible. Danny wouldn’t die. He couldn’t. 

He made his last stitch and cut the thread. He grabbed a bag and disposed of everything inside it. He was about to put the first aid kit away when he thought about putting a bandage on top of Danny’s stitches. 

He pulled a bandage and some gauze out of the first aid kit and when he turned back around Danny’s eyes were already open, staring at Dash. 

“You’re awake already?” Dash whispered. “I wasn’t sure- I was afraid that-”

Danny shook his head. “My healing powers are already working. It just needed help getting started. It can’t heal if it’s still bleeding so much like that.” 

Dash let out a deep breath. “I’m glad to hear.” 

A pause stretched between them and Dash looked down at his hands and saw the gauze and bandage he was holding. He held them up.

“Do you want these on there too? Would it help?”

Danny nodded. “They’ll help make sure I don’t bleed into my clothes.” 

Dash nodded back at him. “Your shirt looks pretty bad too. Do you want one of mine?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure.”

He set the bandage and gauze down on the bed and headed to his dresser. He pulled out a shirt and turned back around to see Danny pulling his shirt off. 

Heat rose to Dash’s face and the comments Phantom made that first time Dash helped him came to mind. Tucker’s laugh echoed inside his head. 

Man, you’re not gonna live this one down. 

Sam and Tucker must know. That’s why they were being so weird that night. 

He sat down at the edge of his bed and looked at Danny. He peeled the back of the bandage off and put it over Danny’s stitches. He spread his hand out over it, pressing the edges down, making sure they were sticking to Danny’s skin properly. 

“Can you sit up?” Dash asked. Danny nodded and pushed himself up, wincing. 

Dash leaned closer to Danny and started winding the gauze around his torso. Once he was done, he looked up to see Danny’s face only a few inches from his own. 

They stared at each other for a few moments before they both spoke at once.

“I’m sorry.” 

Both of their eyes widened. Dash sat up.

“Why are you sorry? I was literally the one wailing on you for so long.”

Danny shook his head. “I lied to you. I never told you who I was. I could see the way you looked at me, but I didn’t think you’d look at me like that if you knew I was also Danny.” 

Dash flushed. “You could tell.” He breathed out. 

“Yeah I could.” Then he rolled his eyes. “And if I couldn’t, Tucker would’ve made sure I knew anyway.” 

“Tucker knows too?” Dash whispered. He didn’t think anyone could see his developing feelings for Phantom. He thought they just would have assumed it was because he was Phantom’s biggest fan. 

“Yeah. No offense, but it was pretty obvious. Especially if even I could tell.” 

Dash groaned and covered his face with his hands as he leaned back onto his bed. He felt Danny lean over to look down at him. Dash opened his eyes.

Danny met his eyes. His eyes traveled down his face to his lips. He slowly bent down and pressed his lips against Dash’s. Dash closed his eyes again and after a few seconds Danny pulled away.

“It helped that I was looking for it, though.”

Dash smiled up at him. “You did call me cute that one time.”

Now it was Danny’s turn to groan. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. I hardly even remember that.” 

Dash placed a hand on the back of Danny’s head and pulled him back down and kissed him again. 

“Did Tucker ever let you live it down?”

Danny laughed. “No. Of course not.”

“I bet it’ll be even worse now.” Dash said against Danny’s lips.

“Oh, you bet it will.”

Dash kissed Danny one more time and gently pulled him down to lay beside him.