#but they’re the ones that ghost you anyway lol

[chappell-roans]

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter seven excerpt. unedited. featuring: agnes’s attempt to understand a new and troubling situation through understanding a new and troubling person. light body horror. self-harm adjacent behaviour. general freaky magic stuff.

[transcript under the cut]

oh brother. these guys again.

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-). @vellichor-virgo @transmasc-wizard​ @houndmouthed @muddshadow @just-wublrful @corkywantstowrite @shrunkupthejams @andromedaexists @caninemotiff @lungs-and-gills @lychniscitrus @phantomnations @onomatopiya @deer-in-headlights-stare @arctic-oceans @redbloodprose @definitelynotclayface @cannivalisms @atthenian

“Show me then,” the words are out of her mouth before she has time to think. Animal instinct. Too distracted to remember to bite her tongue.

Pallas blinks at her once, slowly. “What?”

She can walk it back, that would be safest, the nothing already crouched expectantly in the back of her throat. Instead she uncrosses her legs and swings them over the edge of the bed to better face them. Having feet on the ground makes her feel more solid, more certain.

“I want you to show me. Vita. I want to see it.”

Pallas raises an eyebrow. “Show you?”

She scoots forward slightly and nods, made a bit braver by the fact that they don’t seem to be angry or condescending, just confused. Probably really confused because Agnes is awful at telling what people feel by their faces and even she can see it clear as day.

“You’ve already seen it,” Pallas says, setting down the pen and shrugging back into their jacket. “You know what it does.”

And that’s true isn’t it? In the Haithwood and in the library. Pallas winding every bit of her body around their fingers and holding her frozen to the ground, Pallas making Calliopes nose break and bleed in a burst of icy rage, Judge reaching under her skin to pull her injured flesh back into shape. Vita. Blood and flesh and living bone. Honestly she’s seen enough for a lifetime. There’s still that sick feeling in her gut whenever she thinks about any of it.

So maybe it has less to do with the magic and more to do with Pallas, who’s spent every hour of every day since she got here pushing her to reach for the dead in a way she never has before. Pallas has had everything to do with her ghosts and her gravespeaking but every time they’ve used their power she’s had absolutely nothing to do with it, a bystander at best and a victim at worst. It's not that she’s upset, or ungrateful, just that she wants to see them the same way they’ve seen her. That isn’t so much to ask? Right?

“Yeah.” Agnes moves to rest her chin in her hands. “But I haven’t seen you use it when you’re not…”

Scaring me? Attacking people?

“...y’know,” she finishes lamely.

Pallas has gone still in the chair and she can’t help but feel the same hot embarrassment as before at the expression on their face, nakedly baffled in a way that feels too intimate for her to be seeing. It’s like something about what she’s asking has managed to fully shock the danger out of them, leaving just a person who doesn’t understand what’s happening. Agnes hadn’t thought that was even possible to do, and the revelation that it is fills her with a kind of mad, giddy joy. You’re just like me. You don’t know what’s going on right now.

All this time she’s been tiptoeing around Pallas, but now she’s knocked them off balance and hasn’t been reduced to a pile of blood and guts. So there are some things she can do. She is not totally helpless and they are human after all and they are being awkward! Being awkward in front of her!

“I don’t exactly have a broad scope,” Pallas says dryly. “I doubt you’ll like anything I have to share.”

Agnes doubts it as well, but that’s not really the point. And nothing they said just now was no.

“Maybe it’ll be nice. Maybe I’ll think it’s nice.”

Pallas stares at her like a chicken confronted with a bicycle. Then they look away. Then they let out a long, quiet breath and close their eyes before shifting to face her properly, both feet on the ground as well.

“Sit back,” it’s closer to their normal voice but with a faintness to it. Not quite trembling, but definitely not steady either. Agnes straightens up and tilts back onto her palms as Pallas shifts forward. It feels like too long before they open their eyes, which are just as grey and bad as ever.

“I won’t do anything to you,” Pallas says, as if that’s an option they were considering. Agnes can’t help but feel a twist of relief, the memories of that first meeting in the woods are never far from her mind and no matter how much she wants this, any chance to avoid something like that happening again is a welcome one.

“Right.” She nods.

“If you start screaming, or vomit, or pass out, I will cease interacting with you alltogether. That is a promise.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Pallas’s brows furrow with what could be concentration or could be concern. Their mouth opens, floundering for half a second, like they were about to say something else before closing back into a tightly pressed line. They hold their left hand out in front of them, like they’re waiting for a high five, and somehow Agnes knows that, whatever it is, it’s about to start and her anxiety feels like victory in the face of that.

At first it is nothing much, just a thin red line slicing down their middle finger. So straight and clean it could’ve been made with a scalpel. Not even that much blood. Then, simultaneously, the line begins to creep down their palm and out to each of their other fingers, dripping beads of crimson down the clammy pale of their skin. Somehow it doesn’t seem real, like Agnes is looking at a diagram in a book that’s mysteriously been animated in front of her. If Pallas feels any pain at all they don’t show it, face unchanged as the skin starts to peel back from their hand.

That does make Agnes draw in a sharp breath, even though she’s been very good at staying quiet and still up until now, fearful like she was in the classroom with Judge that any sudden action will throw the magic off-balance. But she doesn’t look away, because she asked for this, and Pallas doesn’t pause in their unfurling even if their brows furrow slightly at the sound. It happens in one smooth motion, practiced, effortless, performed with all the ceremony of taking off a glove. Agnes does not start screaming, or vomit, or pass out. She’s dressed animals before and, apart from how Pallas is not dead and the effect is contained to just the one hand, this isn’t really different. There's the careful separation of skin from muscle, the delicate definition that separates the parts underneath, the red and pinkness of it all.

Of course it’s not really the same either, because the parts of Pallas being stripped away are not set aside for later use; instead they stay floating in the air around the hand, held frozen in the same way her body had been back in the forest when they first met. Warm, wet flaps of skin, fresh as the blackgreen bark stripped from trees back home, hover drowsily like something pickled in a jar. It is also not separated, not really, everything still intertwined and beating with red and alive, muscle and artery and nerve working together, just lifted up and away. Agnes never paid her own hands much mind beyond the work they could do and how cold they got in the winter, but now she imagines her skin split apart and away the way Pallas’s is, wonders if all of that really exists inside her too. It feels wrong somehow, what’s in front of her now is just meat. A person should be made up of more than that. There are so many small parts to a hand, parts she cannot name but Pallas probably can or else they would not be able to do any of this. They don’t stop until the muddy white of their fingerbones begin to show, then the entire thing spasms with an uneven spurt of blood, a pulse that Agnes feels in her own chest, and goes totally still.

In the silence she can’t help but lean forward, marvelling at the web of flesh in front of her, and even as her scalp prickles and her stomach turns over and the air around her seems to hum with the urge to run a part of her itches to reach out a finger and touch. That really would just be the same as fiddling around with the guts of an animal, but also it would be different. Somehow she knows it would be different. Different in a way she’ll never be able to understand unless she does it. Which she won’t. Because Pallas is terrifying and this has only proved that a hundred times over.

Though maybe not as terrifying as she thought before. They did listen to her, or humour her, or whatever this is. It’s something for sure. Agnes can always make do with something. It’s how she stays alive.

Her breath ghosts across the bloody strand of a muscle, and that is what breaks the spell, that or Pallas is just done or some other condition she doesn’t know has been met. The coming back together seems to take a good deal longer than the taking apart, sweat glueing dark strands of hair to Pallas’s cheeks and the grinding of their teeth made audible despite the damp, slithering sounds of their hand seaming itself back together until the only trace of what just happened is a rusty crusting of blood packed around their nails and in their palm lines.

They pull the hand away while Agnes can’t help but keep watching, transfixed as they flex it in and out of a fist with a disinterested glare, impatient while a few stray cracks and pops fill the newfound silence. Once that’s done they hold it out one more time, as if proving to Agnes just how inconsequential vivisecting a part of them in front of her really was.

“There. Happy?” Pallas slumps slightly, tipping their head back enough that she can see their pulse fluttering frantically just beneath the skin of their neck. Again she resists the urge to touch it. She likes all of her flesh right where it is. Thank you very much.

Palla shifts to look at her and Agnes remembers that she’s been staring, not answering them, and internally kicks herself for being such an idiot.

“I am,” She breathes out, makes the monumental effort to meet their eyes. “I actually really am.”

[devil-in-hiding]

Teach me how to write like you because oh my god I’m in love! Your writing is amazing and beautiful and just so UGH but anyways

Imagine the 141 with Farmer! Reader and she takes care of them like she does her animals. Like she’s the mama and the men? Oh they’re all for it. They totally love being all babied and taken care of since they had such a rough life so far like? Seeing the Reader is their dresses waking up to make them breakfast, feed them, make sure they’re happy and safe. Like she would definitely do anything for these men like she would for her animals😩 The men would be struggling each and everyday to contain themselves FOR SURE. Soap and Gaz definitely the two that would be the most handsy. They would so be turned on by basically a mother reader. They would try to grab her and everything any chance they get. Price would be the one who would be more reserved but her would so imagine filling her up with his children (I feel like he would probably move the men to make that actually happen) Ghost? Oh that man is silent but you can definitely tell he has a lactation kink. (They probably all do but I just feel like he and Price are like the one with most likely have it the most) I don’t care what anyone says that he would so be the other person who would try to fill her up with his kids too if Price doesn’t do it first (they’re so trying to see who would knock her up first to see who could make her a mom first) sorry I just had to get that out lol definitely feel free to add onto this because I need for this to be a reality 😩

Y’all really hitting my breeding kink on the head today huh?

i would like to think Ghost never really saw himself settling down, starting a family (especially when the only holes he’s been filling are extremely male)

but once they’ve settled on the farm, and all your worry has melted away and the search for them has died down (it’s an easy out but these men are trained soldiers, i think after a year of them not showing up on the radar, they think they’re gone for good)

he allows himself to picture you round with child, waddling around the farm feeding the ducks and goats that follow you like loyal subjects, barefoot and glowing. pictures himself and Soap chasing squealing chunky babies across the yard, holding them up to pet the horses, delighted giggles ringing in his ears

he is a mad man after that, will not keep those giant paws off you, massaging your stomach whilst you sit on his lap in the evening, letting his mind wander and it’s not long before he has the image of you spread out beneath him, teary eyed as he laps up the milk trickling from your tit, groaning at the way you’d clench around his cock, soaking him in your essence

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 203

Another Hydra prompt! Because I am enjoying the designs I’ve made lol. And perhaps it’s a bit inspired by @radiance1 ‘s different dragon prompts too. 

So they’ve succeeded! They’ve managed to combine their powers- with a bit of shapeshifting helped along by so many ghost allies- and become a giant duck-you dragon! Well, originally they were going to do something else, but they couldn’t agree on an animal, so dragon it was! 

And how mighty they are! They’re giant, absolutely massive- dwarfing the couple of skyscrapers still in Amity. Damages via ghost attacks and general sparring made it where people really didn’t want to rebuild those types of buildings. 

But anyway, dragon! Them! They’re absolutely stunning! And did they mention powerful? Because boy oh boy, are they powerful. The GIW’s guns do practically nothing against their combined might, and barriers shatter before them! 

The uh, issue is that they erm… can’t turn back. Which is fine, they’ve all sort of outlived most of their generation- thank you possessions and ecto-contamination, it’s just a tiny bit of an adjustment. But really it’s not too bad, and someone needs to stop the GIW from trying to poke their heads into Amity. Like it’s been a solid couple of generations, it’s time to stop, thanks. 

Actually they’ve been a bit quiet. Meh, that surely isn’t a problem. Probably. Honestly they’re all going to use the opportunity to sprawl out where the school yard once was, their favorite place to sun their scales. Huh. Usually more people are around now that they think about it- or really, as Paulina points out, sharpening her fangs on one of the rocks. 

…

How long had they been sleeping, because it couldn’t have been that long. One of them was always awake, they slept in shifts after all! Yet there are things missing now as they patrol the skies, both Wes and Tucker pointing out specific buildings that the others didn’t particularly notice usually that now lay empty. 

Hm. 

Oh. That is a… strong barrier there. A really strong barrier actually. Pfft, they can take it! They’ve shredded every barrier together before- Ow. 

…

Okay this might be a bit of a problem. Shit. 

You want a general size reference? :P

[plantwriting]

Time for more dumbass posts. Jrwi pcs as content creators (all moved out of their natural habitat except for the suckening and prime defenders for the sake of making any sense) ((i havent listened to total monster kill or wonderlust yet so they will not be included unfortunately))

Riptide

Chip is just a modern day pirate. Channel full of “slime tutorials” and “totally not [insert movie here]” i mean come on of course

Jay makes videos where she just. Builds shit. Tinkering with her inventions and such. Good times :)

Now Gill is a bit of a harder one. I feel like he’d start out making like religious content because thats what he was raised on but then slowly itd just start changing as he discovers himself and such. Alternatively. Swords. Just swords.

Goobleck: ACTUAL slime videos. Of course.

Prime defenders + Ashe

Dakota used to make like parkour videos but after he got his powers hed just start just livestreaming fights with villains and stuff. Just like the le frog type ones though not like the actually serious bad fights (hed still film them and like compile them into edits of his coolest moments or something lol)

Vyncent… video games. That man is an mcyt. Bro was on the prime version of the dsmp

Will used to have a pretty popular buzzfeed unsolved type thing going on but then he died and completely disappeared from the internet for like several years. Season three he just shows back up like “hey whats up guys so a lot has happened. Anyways im going to he switching the style of content to literally just talking to ghosts and spirits and shit!” Hed also have a tumblr

Ashe has a popular tumblr. Hes like one of those people whose posts always end up on those funny tumblr posts compilations

Apotheosis

Thanatos has a tiktok where he just shit talks organized religion. He probably has like a degree on religious studies that he got before leaving his family so bro knows what he’s talking about

Peter has an instagram where he just posts pictures of cool rocks and another instagram just for lizard. He has maybe three followers max but he doesn’t mind

Rumi has just like a music youtube channel. However. They also have about a dozen other channels under different names with different content for all of their different masks! They don’t show their face on any of the channels so they can’t be recognized as the same person

Bitb

Kian. Is a vtuber. I feel this in my heart Kian is a vtuber and he very intentionally keeps his online persona and like irl things separate and nobody knows about both. His vtuber model is just Kian’s canon design (alternatively he could just. Be an onlyfans influencer. You know what maybe he’s both)

Rolan just posts bugs. He has like all the social medias and on all of them he just posts cool bugs that he finds. He has no clue what the bugs actually are and he usually doesn’t even caption his posts but he has like at least a million followers combining all of his different platforms

Rand posts conspiracy theories. His videos are the ones you randomly find yourself on when you wake up at like three am after leaving the autoplay on and falling asleep with youtube open

The suck

Emizel makes minecraft lets plays. But specifically like ones that are horrible quality and clearly made by someone who has no idea how to actually make youtube videos. He has at least five “HEROBRINE IN MY MINECRAFT WORLD REAL NOT CLICKBAIT” and they’re all from last month

I feel like Shilo would excel as a beauty youtuber. Hes just doing makeup tutorials and telling story times

Arthur refuses to go on social media he does not know what a “tick-tock” is and he does not want to know

[f0point5]

I know we have a different Y/N now but I saw those pictures of max playing padel and I just kept thinking about Max’s Y/N watching 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i miss them

SAME. Ngl I saw the pictures and this just came to me so… I hope this satisfies your craving for them lol

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

“Once again,” you declare to Max as you enter the padel court, your hands full with water bottles, “I’m so glad you’re fast,”

“He’s only fast on wheels,” Lando jokes, shaking his head at Max as he takes a bottle. “Seriously, mate, Fernando is a great player, and so was Charles yesterday, so you are definitely the problem,”

Daniel and Fernando agree as they take their bottles, while Max gingerly waits for you to hand him his.

“It’s the- it’s my, like, shoes, mate. They’re sticky,” he defends himself indignantly while Lando and Daniel snicker. “I swear they’re-“

“Don’t worry,” says Fernando, clapping Max on the shoulder. “We tell them what it is in the champions group chat. Oh, no, we can’t, they’re not there,”

The snickering stops, and Lando and Daniel look like kids whose teacher has just asked them to hand in their homework.

“Well,” Lando huffs. “That was uncalled for,”

Everyone just laughs, and Daniel ruffles his hair.

The other three chug at their water while Max stands next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s cute, how unused he is to not being good at something, even more unused to continuing to do that thing regardless. As much as you tease him, you’re immensely proud. You know that voice in his head telling him to stop embarrassing himself all too well. He’s been better at quieting his than you ever have yours.

“Honestly, it’s the wrong shoes,” he mutters to you, sliding one of his feet along the floor.

“I know, Maxy,” you say, tempted to kiss the pout right off his face. “But hey, you’re going home with me, so did you really lose?”

“That’s not worth extra points, so yes,”

“You know, I really thought we’d make it at least six months before I murdered you,” you say, poking him in the chest hard enough that he rubs at the spot over his heart.

“I don’t get it,” Max says, his face twisted in hopeless bewilderment. “How does being with you mean I won padel?”

“Mate, look at your girlfriend. You won life,” Daniel explains, coming up behind you to sling a damp arm around your shoulders.

“Danny, if you ever get that Red Bull seat, call me, because this dufus ain’t cutting it,” you joke, squeezing at his hip. Daniel laughs and lets go if you with a sticky pat to the back as Max groans.

“Naw, come on,” he says, sliding his arms around your waist as you cross your arms over you chest, purposely avoiding looking at him. “I don’t even care about padel,”

He doesn’t pull you closer, mindful that he’s sweaty, and you feel your heart ache a little. Max was the centre of his world, thousands of people spent their lives anticipating a flick of his wrist, but he never once took another person for granted.

“Cut him some slack,” Lando says, and you watch him pour some water over his curls with a grin. “He knows he won the lottery,”

You frown at that. “He didn’t.” You finally turned to Max, looking up at his flushed cheeks and glassy ocean eyes as you press a palm to his cheek. “the lottery is luck. He got me on purpose,”

He smiles at that, hands ghosting over your hips as he lets go of you. “Who cares about being a padel champion?”

You shrug, brushing some hair away from his forehead, just to touch it. “I’d rather go home with a four time world champion anyway,”

[thesmollestsnek]

Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

[thewordypeach]

Cream

Cream (Milk)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, oral, titty sucking and titty fucking, (lactation kink), implied breeding kink, squirting, etc. summary: Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it - author's note: ummm … so this sequel had me questioning my life choices. like i do not know what possessed me to take it this far lol so you better blow it up like you did with ‘Milk’ 🤭 anyways, i hope you like it <3 xoxo the wordy peach

It begins with: “You’ll never guess what they’re playing at movie night,” 

You look at Joel, a single eyebrow raised. Joel wolfishly grins, his brown eyes sparkling, “Austin Powers and the Spy Who Shagged Me,” 

He watches as your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Joel can’t believe you don’t remember the conversation from last week, the one that had you confessing to him that you felt like one of those fembots from the aforementioned movie. He steps closer, head dipping to your ear, whispering: “Machine gun titties,” 

That’s all it takes for you to remember. And it has your cheeks flushing pink. Sheepishly, you smile at him. But, of course, the cock block herself pipes up: “The spy who what?”

Ellie, you spunky little shithead. You love her to death. You never want her to grow up. But lately, she’s been ruining your alone time with Joel. You know she just wants to be a part of the family, and she is. It never even crossed your mind to think otherwise. She’s the daughter you never had. Sometimes you wish she’d just go and make friends that aren’t you or Joel. 

You look at Joel, waiting for him to answer. But Joel is expectantly gazing at you. A playful smirk ghosts across his lips. He thinks it’s your duty to explain the birds, the bees, and everything between them to Ellie. Of course, she knows most of it. But she questions absolutely everything. Just yesterday, you had the unfortunate experience of explaining anal to her; Joel walked out of the house when she asked and didn’t return until later. 

You poke a finger into Joel’s chest, hissing at him, “It’s your turn,” 

His face goes slack before he gives you a sullen look. He pouts those luscious lips of his, “But darlin'….” 

“Don't darlin' me, mister. You owe me for yesterday,” 

Joel continues to pout but eventually relents. He turns to Ellie with a face void of any emotion: “It’s a classic movie from the 2000s,” 

“Yeah, but what does shagged mean?” Ellie asks. Her eyes look between you and Joel, waiting for an answer. Joel grows uncomfortable. He’s never been one to talk about this kind of stuff. 

“Yeah, Joel. What does shagged mean?” You ask. 

“It- it… it means…” Joel stutters and stumbles over the words. His face is turning pink. He looks flustered as he searches for the right thing to say. You’re enjoying him floundering around. In one great, big breath, Joel spills out: “It’s a British slang term for intercourse,” 

Ellie blinks at him several times as she repeats what Joel just said to her. She starts chuckling, “Shagged means sex?!” Ellie turns into a mess of laughter. She’s clutching her sides. It’s not that funny. But you like watching her have fun. It brings back the innocence and reminds you of childhood. You were young when the movie came out, and the world was ravaged by fungus a few years after. So you cherish this moment of hilarity. You rub your tummy and smile at how much fun you will have raising this new baby with Joel and Ellie -

You don’t make it to movie night because you’re busy with the nursery, and the thought of walking all the way to town hall makes you cringe. You don’t like going anywhere unless it is essential. You make Joel and Ellie do everything for you. There are still some things you do yourself.

You insist Joel and Ellie go. Ellie doesn’t fight it (she’s so excited to watch a piece of history), but Joel grumbles about it. He wants to stay and help. By helping, Joel means he wants to milk you. He can’t stop helping you, and it’s the only thing on his mind - Joel swears he even dreams about it now. However, there hasn’t been a single moment for him to help you. Tommy has Joel doing everything and anything, and between his brother and Ellie, Joel hasn’t had time for his new hobby. 

So, after he drops Ellie off at the movie (making sure that she is settled and making sure that Tommy will bring her home after), Joel leaves and makes his way back to you. He wants to spend every free minute with you, but more importantly, this is the perfect opportunity to do what he’s been dreaming of without any interruptions. Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it -

You hear him before you see him, and then you feel him. His arms wrap around your body, and he presses his chest into your back. You sink into the warmth, eyes closing and throat humming. His hands briefly touch your stomach before they find their rightful place. Joel cups your tits, placing each of them into his hands, and marvels at the heaviness. So full of his special cream. 

“They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they?” Joel murmurs. His cock is already hard and straining inside his pants. Hell, on the walk home, the prospect of milking you had him almost cumming right then and there. 

“They’re definitely heavier,” Joel adds as he squeezes them. He notices you aren’t wearing a bra, and with one simple motion, he has his shirt on the floor (the only one that fits you). You’re facing him now, chest and belly exposed. The sight of you has him losing it. Joel feels happy and excited, and everything in between that. Joel can’t believe that you're his, and he’s yours. Nor can he believe his eyes because your tits are definitely bigger, and your nipples are already dewy with that milky nectar he loves so much. 

Joel groans, latches his mouth onto your right side, and starts suckling like a starved man. Your nipple is already stiff and responsive, and you feel the sensation of milk rushing through to meet your partner’s greedy tongue. His hand expertly kneads the pillowy flesh, expressing even more of the sweet cream that has him hard as a rock. Joel starts to breathe deeper and sucks harder, causing you to moan. 

Your fingers comb through Joel’s hair, and you hold him there because the pleasure of having Joel drain your tits is undeniable; in fact, the more Joel sucks and licks your nipple, the more your arousal grows. You have to remind him, “Joel…. We have less than ninety minutes -”

He grunts in response and moves his mouth to the other side he’s been neglecting. The feeling is indescribable, and you relish it. The relief Joel is giving you is insurmountable. But it also has you growing impatient with him. Your core is aching for his cock, and your hands travel over his body. You feel his muscles, thick and robust, beneath the plaid shirt. You need him now. 

“Joel,” Your hand drops to the bulge in his jeans, and you gently rub it with purpose. The friction makes Joel groan, finally lifting his head from your tits. His eyes are filled with a dazy lustiness that makes you fumble with your words. Still, it doesn’t matter because Joel is suddenly pressing his lips against yours and kissing you with an ardour that makes you forget everything you are about to say. 

You taste the substance that has Joel acting ravenous. It reminds you of cereal milk because it’s so sweet. You part from his lips, whispering, “Can I taste you now?” 

He doesn’t have time to answer because you’re already lowering yourself to your knees, planting them on the ground in front of Joel. With one hand, you pop open the buttons of his jeans and pull down the zipper. Roughly, you tug at the opening and watch as his thick, luscious cock springs free from its confines. At the sight of it, you lick your lips. Your fingers wrap around his length and slide over his stiffness. The movement makes Joel shiver, and when your lips finally touch his cock, a groan escapes from his throat.

Joel has been so concerned about making you feel good that he forgot to consider himself. Suddenly, you thrust him inside your mouth while twisting your hand down his cock. He quickly fills your mouth, and his hand grasps your hair in hopes of controlling you. However, he’s fine with letting you have your way right now. It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to please him; Joel loves how the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you’re so adept at sucking him off that his length doesn’t make you gag anymore  - 

Expertly, you glide your mouth from the hilt to the tip of Joel’s cock, coating it in your saliva. Joel’s eyes nearly roll into his head because it feels so fucking good. It’s the only thing he can tell you because he’s almost lost his mind from the bliss of your mouth sheathing his cock. You don’t stop until Joel gasps for air and asks you to stop. 

“Babe, babe, babe,” His voice is husky, and he roughly pulls on your hair. You gasp and gaze up at him with a thick string of spit connecting your lips to his cock. Joel quivers at the sight and has to remember what he will say. You wait patiently. Obediently. 

Breathlessly, he asks, “Do you want me to fuck you here? Or…”

Without skipping a beat, you reply, “Here,” 

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice and is quick to shed his jeans before he starts to help you. You lean forward onto the palm of your hands and watch as Joel goes behind and begins to slide off the sweatpants you’re always wearing. Not that Joel minds. He knows it’s the only thing that fits you because you remind him every damn day. Once the sweatpants are off, he tosses them to the side and stares lovingly at your ass. It’s so round and perky and panty-less. He’s genuinely surprised, and it makes him smile. 

He caresses your fleshy cheeks, asking, “Is this for me?”

Joel can’t see your face but can tell you are blushing. Sheepishly, you admit, “As soon as you left, I took them off - for easy access,”

“Oh, darlin’,” He swoons, “You’re so sweet to think of me,”

Joel pries your sweet cheeks apart and buries his face, his tongue immediately swirling around your puckered asshole. Mewls spill forth from your mouth, and you wiggle your hips, trying to splay them apart because your body needs more. Joel’s tongue slithers down, lapping the juice practically pouring out of your needy, swollen cunt. He licks and sucks with wild abandon, groaning at your deliciousness. He doesn’t stop until you are begging him, “Joel, fuck me. Fuck me with your big cock, please. Oh god, fuck me, already!”

He removes his mouth from your exterior and replaces it with his cock. He rubs and rubs his bulbous crown between your molten wetness, gliding it back and forth until it’s coated with your slickness. When he thinks it’s enough, he pushes into your tight cunt. At first, your channel is resistant. But slowly, your velvety walls happily start devouring Joel’s cock until his entire length basks in the warmth. 

You are gasping at the sensation of being stretched out. It’s almost too much in this position, and a small rock of Joel’s hips gives way to your first orgasm. Your vision swirls as a wave of ecstasy comes crashing through. Your fingers grip the carpet as your cunt swells and clenches his cock. Your back arches as you cry out, “Fuck, Joel,”

Immediately, he stops, thinking he has hurt you or the baby. Panic-stricken, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“N-n-nothing,” You stutter out, attempting to catch your breath. Your lungs greedily suck in the air, saturated with the smell of sex. You tell him, “You made me cum,”

“Already?” He murmurs and devilishly thinks about the five times he made you cum last week. Joel rocks his hips again, and you whimper at the movement. At a glacial pace, Joel pulls out before sliding back in and burying his cock to the hilt. You’re gripping the carpet and moaning like crazy. He’s sure the neighbours can hear you, which drives Joel forward. He wants them to know how good he is at fucking you. 

Joel grabs your hips, nails sinking into the fleshy bits, and plows in and out of your pussy. He’s pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in, ensuring you feel every inch of his girthy length. Your body is rocking beneath his, tits swaying like udders. You reach between your legs to touch your clit. It’s pulsating and yearning to be touched. You gingerly circle it, knowing a light touch is enough to send you over the edge. And you’re right because, within seconds, your second orgasm is rolling through.

You wail, “Joel, Joel, Joel,” but Joel doesn’t stop this time. He continues to youthfully spear your pussy and watches as your creamy juices coat his cock. Vigorously, you rub your clit because a third orgasm is imminent. Your back arches and your hips are high in the air, and Joel stops, pulling out completely, to watch as your pussy trembles with another orgasm. Your thighs are dripping with your juices, and his name still spills out of your mouth. Repeatedly. 

His hand squeezes your hip, “Mmm, darlin’. That’s your third one - should we slow down? Don’t want to hurt -”

“Need more,” You interrupt him, “Need to cum more, Joel,”

Joel shakes his head, “Darlin’,'' He knows you aren’t thinking straight, driven to recklessness because of the pure ecstasy that has raptured your body. You turn over, laying on your back. You splay your legs apart, and your pussy glistens in the light. It’s so swollen, so puffy. Your hand is back, and your fingers are working your clit. But from this angle, it’s a little more challenging because of your protruding belly. And it’s making you frustrated. Especially because Joel is just watching, not helping. 

“Joel,” You growl, “Fuck me,”

A single eyebrow of his shoots up, and you begrudgingly mutter, “Please,”

Much to your surprise, Joel moves. However, instead, he hovers above your chest and settles his cock in the valley of your tits. His hands squeeze them, and the milk for his unborn child sprays out, sprinkling across your chest and hitting his cock. At first, Joel goes slow, his cock passing between your tits. It’s a different kind of friction and holy hell… it feels good. His cock, slippery with your juices and milk, has him gliding through your breasts with ease. He grips harder and fucks your tits faster, rocking his hips back and forth. 

As he slips in and out, he milks your bountiful breasts in the process. He does it until you are soaked. He’s breathing hard, and his balls are tightening. He’s close, so fucking close. But he doesn’t want to finish like this because he knows you want more orgasms, and who is he to deny his pregnant partner? You have been carrying his baby for months, and it hasn’t been easy. And Joel knows that once the baby is born, you won’t be able to have sex for weeks. Not until you’re healed. So, why not let you live a little? 

He pulls his cock out of your cleavage and moves his face to yours, kissing you passionately. His tongue swirls and mingles with yours before he shifts down. Joel latches his mouth around your nipple and practically inhales a gulp of cream into his mouth. He doesn’t swallow and comes back up, kissing you again. Messily, Joel washes your mouth with your milk. It’s sweet and warm, and it’s fucking kinky as hell. It has you moaning into Joel’s mouth. He moans back, letting you know he loves every moment of it too.

As he continues to kiss you, Joel reaches down and takes his cock, sliding it over your puffy and sensitive lips before pressing it into your velvet channel. Your body welcomes him, and your mouth drops, gasping as you effortlessly fit his entire length . Once more, Joel explores your warm depths with a vigorous youthfulness. His flesh is clapping yours over and over until you are yelling his name over and over. Your hands are gripping his forearms, nails digging into his skin. 

“Mmm, Joel, mmm, Joel, gonna cum, Joel, mmm - fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your eyes roll back, and an unwavering fourth climax raptures your body. A euphoric release rolls across your body, and you undulate beneath Joel. He watches as your belly quivers, and he feels your cunt trying to expel him, and when he does finally pull out, a massive bolt of liquid escapes - he realizes you’re squirting. Something he’s only heard rumours about. He’s astonished by the amount of liquid that is coming out and by how long your orgasm is lasting.

Meanwhile, you are gasping for air, lungs greedily gulping it down. You have no idea what happened; all you know is it’s a big wet mess down there. You’re gazing at Joel, cock-drunk. Orgasm-drunk. Your brain is buzzing with satisfaction. Your fixation on cumming has been satiated. However, your partner is still rock hard. He still needs to cum, and he’s more eager than ever before. He shoves his cock back in, and the molten wetness has his cock quivering as his climax punches through, pushing him over the edge.

He doesn't warn you. He doesn’t have to - the damage is done. You’re reaping what he sowed. Joel shoots his seed as far into you as possible with a single thrust. His hands touch your belly, caressing the soft skin, and he pushes his cock even deeper, where he empties the rest of his balls. When he pulls out, his cum mixed with yours oozes out from your crease and pools onto the carpet beneath you. 

You dare to smile up at him, murmuring: “Thank you, Daddy,”

[hunterbunter3000]

Tbh the way you write Krueger gives me sugar daddy / obsessive vibes (not that I can complain). I love the idea of him being so obsessed to please sweetheart in any way she wants (personally I HC him as a service top switch, specially w the way you write him). But if you’re ever up to it I’d love some Krueger drabble (or ghost or könig bc they’re yummy too)

-🪿(hönk)

HÖNK BABES OMG

18+

You are so right with him being a service top 👏 ugh he would so eat her out until she passes out. Round after round, with his big ass hands clamped around her thighs and his thick tongue flicking against her overworked clit. AUGH he would cum so quickly because of her taste and moans. He would cum just from eating her out 💀💀

And he 10000000%% is obsessive with Sweetheart. He only thinks about Sweetheart 25/8 and all he wants to do is please her. He calls her "My little Goddess" for a reason ✨️ just touching her is a blessing to him. Touching her hand, he would crumble right then and there. He would do anything and EVERYTHING for this woman. He wants-- NEEDS-- to be around her all the time, or he will go INSANE. He's also pretty possessive with her. But Sweetheart shut that shit down, so he's only just a little teehee🤭 but yeah he becomes quite jealous when people talk to her. Don't touch her because you will lose a hand. And if you make a move? Oh, you're gonna end up either on a t-shirt or on a milk carton.

(I can go on and on with Krueger about being an obsessive freak with Sweets HAHA)

And hönk omg sugar daddy Krueger makes me want to fold😭 she wouldn't even ask him to be a sugar daddy, he would just do it himself. He LOVES spoiling her, even though she doesn't ask for it, he does it anyway. And of course she's thankful for it, she's not a brat. But that makes him buy MORE SHIT FOR HER

It's a cycle:

• Krueger buys something for Sweets

• Sweets yells at him

• Sweets says thank you and smiles

• Krueger gets the happy juice in his brain

And then it starts over 💀

He's even bought her an apartment close to his, but she wanted to stay in her old family home, so he said "okay. I'll just live closer to you" and she's like-- w h a t 🧍‍♀️

And OH he would so buy toys for her. Like vibrators. He bought one that he could control from afar and that was such a fun day LOL When he's not around, like on a mission, he made a mold out of his cock for her 💀 and yk... she uses it sometimes HWHEHSHES Krueger asked her to send a video of her using it and she does. She was so embarrassed and shy when she did it. Wearing one of Krueger's shirts and ONLY his shirt-- and her hair out (he loves seeing her hair down) and she's on the bed with the toy and she lubes it up, cause it's fucking huge. AND IT HAS A SUCTION CUP LOL so she just slaps on the bed frame and rubs it on her slit.

Fuck, and Krueger is just watching it like it's the last thing on earth. He is so FUCKING HARD and he wants to be there and fuck her himself. He hears her little whimper when the toy prods her hole. Sweet's is bent on the bed and holding a pillow, her eyebrows knitted and tears already springing in her eyes. Omg that makes Krueger go FERALLL

And once she backs her thick ass back into it, she squeals so loudly and starts to twitch. "Fuck... I think I just came..." GIRL I THINK KRUEGER JUST CAME WHEN YOU SAID THAT WTF-- she starts to grind on it, as much as she can fit, and starts to bounce on it. Her moans and whimpers flow through the speaker of his phone and other soldiers are just frozen and turned on, and are scared to shit to tell him that everyone can hear what's playing on his phone 💀(he honestly doesnt give a shit, hes too engrossed on the video) and Graves comes over, pissed at Krueger because it's extremely distracting whatever is on his phone. Graves was about to speak until he saw Sweetheart fucking herself on the biggest dildo he has ever seen. He has never seen her moan and whimper like that-- like gurl where has this side been?? And he just stands there with his eyes big and mouth gaping. His dick twitches in his pants and he feels light-headed. The fucking wet sounds of her stretched pussy and her low babbles and her bottom half jiggling with every bounce is straight torture for the both of them.

"Fuuucckkkk Krueger, if this is the size of your actual fucking cock I don't think I can take it..." Sweetheart whimpers out. Graves is like- SORRY WHAT

THAT BIG THING IS A MOLD OF KRUEGER'S COCK??? It's literally making a small bulge in her stomach when she sits up and it's not even in all the fucking way. Krueger growls, his knee bouncing like CRAZZYY "You'll take it, baby. You will." He mumbles to himself. Omg he's so turned on its making him unstable.

She goes faster, the bed frame creaking with her backing up on it. She gets louder and her thighs start shaking so damn much. "Cumming... Cumming!" She bites the pillow hard as her pussy creams around the dildo. She makes such a mess on the bed frame omg (Krueger and Graves wanted to lick it all clean) and she's breathing heavily, trying to calm herself down. Once she does, she gets up to get her phone, they can see that she's a bit sweaty and eyes teary and low. She wipes her face and she sighs before speaking. "I can't believe I did this. Fuck I'm still shaking. Just-- be safe Krueger." And the video ends. The silence is THICCKKKK AFTERWARDS LMAO

But I am making a smut fic between Krueger and Sweetheart, so keep an eye out for that!

[punksocks]

Please pick the picture that resonates with you, that gives you sort of that subconscious pull. The picture with the most weight behind it.

This didn’t quite turn out how I expected but I do like the results ! Everything may not resonate perfectly because they’re general readings, but please comment which pile resonates with you the most, and your thoughts after your reading <3

Why do people stare at you?

*****

-Pile 1: People stare at you because you have this air of authority. You may have been through a lot of heavy life experiences, a lot of tragedy and betrayal from those you’re closest to. (I had a hard time writing out the words for this one- some of your may still really struggle with the weight of what you’ve endured.) But you’ve made a lot of progress in overcoming this. You’ll get your just deserts and you’ll never have to look back at this betrayal again. You know how to build a way out for yourself and that empresses a lot people and gives you a naturally regal air (I misspelled this in my notes too lol, confirmation). You still manage to be kind and generous despite your wounds from what you’ve endured. If you have the mean, financial or otherwise, you use them to be a good person. You’re at the end of a cycle of suffering and people find your strength poetic. You’ve gotten through so much so successfully, it leaves people enamored and they want to honor how you’ve done it (ok I was going to write hear over honor but it felt too important to correct, this confirms how you’re coming out of this on top). You work so hard, endlessly, people are in awe of your stamina and want to know what you’re doing next. You’re a very passionate person, people love your ambitions and how you always have energy to create and expand and work (Do you have fire signs in your big 6? Especially Aries?). You’re the life of the party ! You may be a heartbreaker as well. People want to work with you to see what you know (Possible Capricorn energy, especially Ascendant). People don’t think they’ll measure up to your -steep- standards, but they love to shoot their shot anyway (my notes say to be your lover, but I can’t type that outright lol). You have boss babe energy and people want a shot at proving themselves to you (proving that they can keep up with you, even when they /know/ they can’t). They get scared at the possibility of fumbling you (bruh the way I sucked my teeth on accident, this doesn’t impress you lol). They think their worlds will fall apart if they have you and screw it up (Scorpio/Pluto placement vibes?) People see you as rich, wealthy, abundant (financially, rich in resources, energy even, any of that). They see you as very ambitious and they wonder if they can keep up without falling behind or getting jealous. People dispare over the thought of keeping up with you because they know they can’t match you (*despair, but this may indicate experiencing ghosting for some of you. Also emphasis on Aries energy again). You do all of this while prioritizing your self care and happiness. Good for you Pile 1! Don’t slow down or neglect yourself on behalf of anyone. Someone that knows how to match you will come into your life if they haven’t already. Ancestors/ guides/ however you prefer to refer to them as say they’re proud of you but you’ve got to release all of those people that want you to slow down for them— they’re dead weight (damn, stone cold, as you should be).

Songs:

******

-Pile 2: people stare at you because you’re super major! My brain went to a valley girl accent so people may regularly under estimate you pile 2 (major Elle Woods from Legally Blonde vibes). They may assume you’re a bit vapid or superficial but you contain multitudes and you have some seriously strong boundaries. The Emperor came out from 2 different decks! You’re often the smartest person in the room, and you really don’t care about your haters, you couldn’t care less about them because you know they’re below you. (Impressive, a lot of people have to work on healthily embracing their ego, you’re balanced in this and that’s commendable.) People stare at your naturally regal presence ‘I look expensive’ I’d what I just heard. You are really luxurious (in small and big ways - luxury can also mean never treating yourself less than you deserve.) People may try to steal attention from you but you know they’re grasping at straws. You don’t let them phase you. Like grounded Libra energy. You may be a bit older, some of you have Libra conjunct outer planets. Like Pluto, so there’s a lot of depth to your grace and charm. At the beginning (of the reading) the original Venus song, from the 60s, played. You may also be drawn to a vintage/classic style and this adds to your charm. The fact that you know when to pause and rest helps make you so unstoppable. You’re a very balanced person, strong Libra energy. You channel being balanced into making things happen (‘making money moves’). I thought of my Grandma (my favorite Libra tbh) very demure, classical lady, but she could move mountains when she set her mind to it. You have a razor sharp intuition too, you always know ‘when to hold ‘em and when to fold em’ (do some of you like country music? Lol) You know how to get your wishes fulfilled. You may be older (gen X) or you just have really mature vibes for your age. You’ve probably transformed a lot to get to this point in your life as well. I’m happy for you and your guides are proud of how far you’ve come (and how far you’ll go)

Cosmia by Joanna Newsom

******

-Pile 3: Hello my pile 3’s, your guides had a lot they wanted to say to you and I had to switch pens bc my first one ran out. I get the feeling that you rushed into a new opportunity lately. A situation that you thought you wished for but it broke your heart. Could be a relationship or a job, something that you hoped would solve your woes but brought you more head and heart ache than you expected. This was a challenging period but people are staring because they can see hope and optimism coming back to you. ‘The sun will shine on another day’ I heard. (Either you’re realizing this or your guides need you to know this truth.) The Sun, The Star, and the Ace of Swords all came out so you’re really being called to stay optimistic because things will get better is what I’m getting. You’re gaining more abundance after a hard period and you’ve been weighed down by a lot of burdens (too many !). But this cycle is ending and is calling on you to listen to the knowledge you already know. You’re growing into your emotional understanding and overall this pushed growth is for the best. You’re learning you’re your own expert guide. You know what you want and need the best out of everyone. People can tell you’re changing and you’re not who you used to be.

[lethalchiralium]

High Water | Happiness Series

a/n: okay guys, I have ONE MONTH left of school for the semester, THEN I WILL HAVE TIME FOR THIS I PROMISE. a lot has happened since I last updated, this was all written over a six month period and of course finished three weeks after my major breakup w my bestie of 7 years LOL ENJOY

a/n 2: and thank you always to @as-is-above-so-below for not killing me over taking forever to update and for letting me fall down her stairs and (separate incident) get a splinter from her floor LOL

warnings: military talk. TW: TORTURE

summary: Price has to make a difficult decision.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Night vision, gloved finger tensed on the trigger of his rifle. The back alley was secured, Soap kept two feet behind him at all times as Price unlocked the side door of the “abandoned” factory warehouse. 

Four pairs of boots were muted against the cracked concrete, rifles pointed upwards and watching for any hostiles in their way. The mission was to collect intel and neutralize any threats - hopefully this would deliver them to the target. A man who was a ghost just like Simon Riley, but just… tied up in debts that span decades. Expendable men were set in the center of the warehouse, a table set up with chairs, chips and cards strewn about the wooden surface. Silence was a friend to the Russian men’s killers, but not to them. A small radio lowly played some sot of music, it was melancholy and heavy on the sax. Blues, Simon reflected, fitting.

One Russian - wearing a white shirt and black pants, a deep purple bruise on his fair face - pulled a chair from the table, setting down a laptop on a handful of worn cards.

“Boss has two targets with him, they’re to be sold by the end of the week.”

The man with a green jacket shrugged, as he sat down too; kicking his feet onto the table. “Not sure if there’s a big enough market for screaming babies, друг.”

“We’ll be getting a big payout if we get them to auction before their family finds out.” 

Simon’s stomach clenched, he almost shot them both right there if it wasn’t for Gaz grabbing his arm and squeezing it. He couldn’t imagine it being you and the girls, it wouldn’t be anyway. Calm down. He focused on slinging his rifle silently over his shoulder, taking hold of the corner of sturdy boxes, wrapped up in plastic film. He hauled himself up, keeping his balance and grip focused on climbing up since the crate was the height of his shoulders. He placed his right foot on the top, pushing himself up before repeating the action with the next and final crate. It was routine the way he retrieved his rifle from his back, laying prone on the hefty crate with his finger parallel to the trigger and his eye in the scope. He was swift, it was second nature; his breath didn’t falter when Gaz settled on his torso beside him with his tact scope in his grasp.

“Bravo 0-7, do you have sight on the target?”

Ghost’s eye closed, the other focusing through the scope of his rifle. 

“Affirmative.”

There was a loud screech of the door Gaz was watching, Ghost’s chest clenched with anticipation as he watched the intel walk in - wearing joggers and a long sleeve shirt, talking loudly on his phone in Russian. 

“Soap, detain the target as soon as he is within range. Gaz, Ghost, drop ‘em as soon as Soap is clear.”

There wasn’t a beat of silence after that, as everyone launched into action. Johnny was quick to tackle the man, the other two dropped dead within milliseconds. His gloved hand seemed to cover the man’s whole jaw, fingertips pressed uncomfortably into the man’s skin. Ghost had dropped from his position in seconds and across the room in a few strides.

“Where is yer boss?”

Gaz slid a chair behind the man, Soap shoved him into it. Struggling hands were strapped to it, the man with dark blond hair and joggers spat out vicious words towards the skull balaclava. He barely caught Price snatching the open laptop from the table before he looked back to Soap and the hostage, the Sergeant dug his nails into the Russian’s face. The Lieutenant pulled a rag from his vest, watching them intently. The 141 was a well oiled machine, oiled with the saccharine taste of blood. 

“Where the fuck is yer boss?”

“You’ll never find him-“ Ghost shoved the cloth into the man’s mouth before in a flash, his knife found its new home in the hostage’s knee. The screams muffled, he leaned closer. The words spoken were low, but enough to elicit a snarl from the hostage before another scream.

Price only gazed at Ghost for a moment before looking back at the laptop, checking through folders for measly information. Gaz was stood by the door, watching for any  intruders - hand on his rifle, ignoring the muffled screams of the last threat alive in the room. But he wouldn’t be alive much longer with Ghost’s knives sticking out of his body like decorations. Don’t ask for mercy, my hounds won’t give you any, he remarked.

He looked down at the dashboard, seeing a browser left open. He clicked on it, seeing an encrypted chat log with the target and his right hand man - the man screaming for his life in the chair. 

Don’t be late

The damn baby is losing it

If I have to hear another word from this girl I’m going to kill her

Price is a stoic man, one hardened by war - barely scared of anything; yet, Price wasn’t prepared when he scrolled up. His heart shot straight into his throat, eyes widened by a fraction, his hand gripping the table could’ve broken it in half. He blindly grabbed his phone, taking a picture of the screen before slamming the laptop closed. It was secured between his arm and chest in three seconds, tapping a number on the screen of his phone before he walked past Gaz and out of the room. The building was secured, he knew that - yet, he felt the fear that he may be watched. The secure line droned on for only a moment before there was an answer.

“John?”

“Laswell. What the fuck happened?”

There’s crying in the background, he could recognize Winnie’s voice anywhere. They’ve been gone for three days. Nothing was supposed to get to Simon’s second chance, John thought he was sure of it. No, he was sure of it. He cased the house himself, did all the work to make sure one of their strongest and toughest allies would stay and protect them. What the fuck happened?

There’s a breath. “König’s been shot. Someone took Mellie and Y/N.”

“And the other one?” 

John’s stomach settled like concrete, weighing him down and making him sick. 

“She’s okay. She’s with us at the hospital. We took her to the park like her mother asked and when we came back, the door was kicked in, König was unconscious and bleeding out, and Mellie and Y/N weren’t there.” There was a pause. “There was a fight down here. König killed seven of them before going down.”

Okay. At least they could ID the bodies, link them to the mob - or at least, former associates of the mob. Any lead he could get.

If he could run his hand through his beard, he would’ve. It was a comfort, especially now that he has never felt this stressed in his life. Simon cannot know. Simon will destroy everything we’ve worked for to save them. 

“It has to do with the target.” 

John’s eyebrows furrowed. “Their intel is here. I am holding their intel.”

“John, these men are Russian. They are escaped convicts in the mob, known associates of the target.” There’s a pause, a short yell from Winnie, and Laswell sighing. “König left one unconscious. Roach is interrogating him now on base.”

“How long ago were they attacked?”

“Yesterday.” Another pause, soft words from Laswell to who he assumed was Winnie. “Listen, I’m working on this, but I need you. We need Ghost to run the rest of the operation, and we can’t do that if you tell him about this.”

There’s shouting behind the door, screaming from the victim that Ghost was torturing. John looked down the empty corridor, knowing he has to go to keep his friend safe. 

“Because if they came after the girls, that means they’re coming after him. And they need him alive.”

His hand could have snapped that laptop in half. “He needs them alive.”

“I know, John.” 

There’s more shouting in Russian, a loud thud and more incessant screaming. 

“Keep this on the down low. I only need you. Make sure Ghost knows how to proceed.”

“With caution and safety off.” John murmured, muscles clenching in his chest. This is not going to end well. 

“Get back to Manchester immediately. I’ll call if we’ve found something.” The line goes dead, Captain Price slipped the phone into his pocket before taking a deep breath. 

He opened the door back to the room, being submersed in the victim’s screaming as Ghost’s black blade dragged into the muscles of his leg. Price shut the door, standing tall with worry on his mind. Gaz nodded to him, hands out for the laptop - John shook his head. 

“Lieutenant.” 

The skull mask didn’t look away from his target, the one screaming Russian that he didn’t know anything, stop, you’re hurting me, go to fucking Hell- Soap took the man by his throat, forcing his head back before spitting some choice words at his face. Eyebrows furrowed, Price tried again.

“Mactavish, take over for the Lieutenant.” 

The Scot nodded, hand ripping Ghost’s knife out of the man’s thigh - all that filled the room were screams. Ghost finally looked to Price, an enraged look in his eye as he stood and walked towards him. 

“What the fuck-”

“I’ve been reassigned.” The Captain spoke with an even tone. Nothing is wrong. Believe me, Simon, believe me. “You will be running this operation until I get this assignment under control.”

It seemed that anger swelled throughout the Lieutenant like a poison, invading every space of the menacing man. “What the fuck did you get reassigned for?”

“Diplomat’s wife and daughter have been kidnapped.” The lie slid off of the tongue like butter, smooth as easy to go down for some people. For others… it’s unsettling. Price was a good liar, it came easy, but his lieutenant was always able to tell. Not always immediately, but he will know sooner or later. “I have to run this. Are you okay doing this assignment-“

Ghost patted his Captain’s shoulder. “Got it under control.”

Price smiled, strained. “Knew I could count on you.” He glanced to the man in the chair; blood poured down his face. He then looked back to his Lieutenant, his right hand man with as straight of face he could muster. “We need to hurry this up. Only 10 minutes remaining.”

“Rog.”

•••

The front door was covered in a tarp, the front porch light on and curtains drawn. John Price felt the cold sickle of Death slide down his spine as he could see blood splatter on a home he once considered sacred. Simon’s home, your home, was under red tape, unknown to anyone the military who wasn’t close to Ghost. Simon created a home from nothing for his child, then opened it for you, then his new little one - God, was John proud of him. Creating a life more than worth living, in a quaint house that should have never been found - even when it was hidden in plain sight. Even the most holy grounds have had blood shed upon them. 

Kate knew he was walking up the steps, she always knew, so she opened the door enough for him to slip through. Instantly, he’s met with the remnants of the carnage of your entrance way. Bullet holes and stains of blood decorated the walls and floors, even when they had been mopped and wiped clean. Dents in the walls, the floor - John imagined the beast that was König wrestling some of those fucks to the ground, snapping their necks with the twitch of his wrist. He couldn’t imagine your screams, couldn’t think of little Mellie wailing in terror. 

Did you scream? Did they drug you? Hurt you? Did they dare to touch the baby? God, Simon is going to burn the world.

He looked to Kate, there’s a hardened glint in her eye. He handed her the laptop, which hadn’t been scanned yet - it would take too much time, they both knew that. She took it without a word, turning back into the front room. John strode forwards, stepping over the baby gate that was recently put there. He assumed it was to keep Winnie out of the carnage that was the front entrance, he continued on to the living room where he could see Alex sitting on the couch. A little head peered over the side of the couch and as soon as her eyes saw John, she stood at full height with tears instantly pouring down her face. 

“Unc’John!” 

His heart felt bruised then, the beat of it aching with every stride he took to her. He instantly plucked her from the couch, holding her to his chest as she loudly cried. “Winnie, sweetheart, it’s alright.”

“Where-Where’s Mummy and Mellie?”

John could only bear to mutter a soft, “We’re finding them, sweetheart.” He couldn’t bring himself to say that the bad guys got them, that her daddy couldn’t be the hero she knows she wants him to be because of John’s decision. He was quick to bring her to the kitchen - which seemed untouched compared to the adjacent entryway - and settled her on the countertop, right beside the sink. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet to the right, filling it with water before handing it to Winnie. The five year old took greedy sips, breathing through her nose as tears raced down her face. “Put the water down, love, you need to take some deep breaths.”

He took the glass back, only for her to reach for his hand - he took it, giving it a small squeeze. God, he can’t even remember the last time he had seen his niece cry, let alone sob. Had it been that long since she had gone without you? 

“Are you hungry? Tired?” He set the glass on the counter, seeing her hiccup as she tried to catch her breath. He squeezed her hand again, all Winnie could do was let more tears fall down her face. 

“Where’s Mummy?” She begged, John’s tongue felt dry. He hated lying to her, he hated not knowing anything, he hated seeing her bawl her eyes out. She didn’t witness anything, thank God, but going without you after not having to for years is terrifying to a little girl. “N’Daddy? Why-Why isn’t Daddy home?” Her hand squeezed back, much harder than she did before. “M’scared.”

“I know, Winnie.” His throat began to itch, he wanted to desperately tell her that everything would be alright - that today was just a bad dream she’ll wake up from tomorrow, that her parents will be here in the morning with her baby sister. He also wanted to scream at God and tell him that it was fucked forcing him into sacrificing Simon’s family for a stupid fucking lead, even if it did lead back to you and Mellie. He didn’t want to have the possibility of telling his niece that neither of her parents were coming home, instead of the off chance of one; he hated delivering condolences, but he wasn’t sure he could do it to a five year old girl who he has watched grow up. “I think we need to go sit down again.” A little nod and she was scooped up into his arms again, held tight as he walked back into the couch; Alex nowhere to be seen, which was fine with John. He took his normal seat at the end of the couch, resting little Winnie on his chest and pulling the blanket from the back of the couch to lay on her. He tucked it in around her stomach, making sure to cover her socked feet before gently petting her hair. 

His eyes wandered to the TV, to the stupid blue dog show that she seemed to love - yet she held no interest right now. His eyes darted across the floor, seeing little firetrucks and airplanes and dolls scattered across the floor; then to the little mesh play pen that sat underneath the window, the blinds pulled up enough to where Mellie couldn’t reach, the strings tied up even higher. Soft toys and colorful blocks scattered inside of it, not to mention a few blankets and a pillow or two. Winnie’s been sleeping down here. She’s petrified. 

His gaze moved to the ceiling, hand gently patting her head with a calm rhythm. He’d lay here all night, way past when his back would get sore, way past when his legs would cramp, just to give Winnie some sort of stability. He refused to think about the possibility that he may have to follow through with his promise of being her godfather - he just never imagined that it might possibly be just Winnie, not Winnie and Mellie. The thought stirred nausea in his stomach, more than any whiplash, concussion, or shitty helicopter ride could give him. He had already made the silent promise to find you and Mellie, but just for tonight, his whole goal was to make sure Winnie isn’t more scared out of her mind than she already is. 

“Unc’John.”

He hummed at that, looking back down her. “Yes, sweetheart.”

Her little chin swiveled to rest on his chest to look up at him, her sweet brown eyes full of tears as she whispered, “I don’t wanna visit my Mummy at-at the cemetery like Mum G-Grace.”

I don’t want to visit my Mummy at the cemetery like Mum Grace.

I don’t want to visit my Mummy at the cemetery like Mum Grace. 

The words that leave his mouth are soft, spoken like a twisted prayer. “This isn’t like your Mum Grace.” His eyebrows furrowed, petting her hair back with a gentle touch. “I swear it.”

The five year old’s lip quivered, “Promise?”

John doesn’t promise anything, he never makes a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. He never dared enter the realm of uncertainty, knowing he could fail and hurt someone he cared about. Hell, he rarely makes promises on equipment orders for his men. He doesn’t even promise his mother anything, not since he promised he wouldn’t go into the military and did it anyway. But as he watched his friend’s daughter, his niece and goddaughter, sob quietly on his chest, he felt he had no choice but to nod. “Promise.”

At that, Winnie’s head finally fell to rest on John’s chest, he watched her eyes close as it was evident she had only held out to hear his promise. She had stayed awake to see and hear someone she trusted and knew well, she waited to close her eyes until she knew he would find you, even if she didn’t directly ask him to. 

John felt obligated to keep Simon’s family alive since he knew just how much the deaths of his mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew nearly killed him, how the death of Grace and embracing fatherhood almost drowned him, and just how much his daughters and wife saved him from saying “Fuck it.” and stepping into enemy fire. Not only that, he felt obligated to you - to find you and Mellie, bring you home, keep Winnie safe too. You had many years left with Simon, John could see it. You couldn’t possibly leave Simon now, not when he needs you the most. 

John’s eyes blinked slowly, looking down to the dozing Winnie on his chest and holding her closer, reminiscent of when she was a small toddler sleeping on his chest when he babysat. Fatigue was catching up to him, the hours in the early morning were spent combing through data for the prisoner the 141 now in had in possession, and now - your kidnapping. Simon is a dear friend, John knew him too well to say otherwise. And he also knew that you, Winnie, and Mellie were his whole world - the monster Simon was, the one John had nurtured and cared for to create a weapon, was sitting dormant in the man’s ribcage because of the unconditional love he had received. John could never argue that Simon had “gone soft” because of it, Simon had weeping and infected wounds healed by the soft touch of his wife. The Captain’s previously abused and petrified weapon was now perfect, he was the epitome of the perfect soldier. But with the knowledge of his wife and child’s safety at risk, John knew what the military didn’t. 

“Captain.” 

There’s a reason your husband wasn’t alerted of your abduction. John Price knew the second he said that you and Melody were missing, Simon would rip his ribcage from his chest with the force of a thousand men to expose the monster underneath. The one you only hear about in movies, the one that is passed down through tongues to generations, the one you fear will come from the shadows to eat you alive. Simon Riley is what the Captain likes to call, the Monster Under Your Bed. 

“Captain.”

He grunted a little, looking over his shoulder to a stoic Alex Keller. “She’s almost asleep, Alex-“

“We might have a location.”

taglist: @idkwtftitbh  @blingblong55  @local-spidey  @sanfransolomitatm  @frazie99  @Awilan @cosmoscoffeee @khadeejarh  @babygirl-riley  @emi-flaces  @marini03  @jeannieboys  @koshehehe  @tutuwuworld @froggy-anon @cxltblood @egdeverauxx @freyjasfenrir @lexi-zsy09 @Hosshihusshi @Isopaine @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @domaniquessidehoe2 @iaur @starsinyoureyes @graciereads @urfavoritepookie @ghost-with-a-teacup @moris666 @ghostwifeyy @ziggy0stardust @live-love-be-unique @magoopi @coririley @lunyyx @sterlizx

[luxaofhesperides]

if you give a ghost a trauma: a parody fic

read on ao3.

Danny wishes to be sent someplace he could have a better family. Unfortunately, that lands him in a Gotham where tropes are made reality to the extreme. He really just can't catch a break. (or: a dcxdp parody fic where i make danny the only one able to see how bizarre things are. this does not help him in any way.)

. . .

“We’re gonna get you!” Maddie Fenton, a Bad Parent™ cries as she shoots her gun at Danny, her half dead son.

“No!” he wails, flying around as he dodges the shots. “I wish my parents weren’t trying to capture me for Evil Science Reasons! I wish I had a better family!”

“Lol, done,” said Desiree, snapping her fingers. 

Danny only has time to say Uh-oh before he’s sucked away into a magic portal and spit out into a dark and dreary city. In just the one second he’s there, before he even hits the ground, he hears gunshots, screaming, and the wailing of police sirens. Then he hits the ground and groans, releasing his ghost form to go back to being a human. 

“Where am I?” he asks himself, getting to his feet and looking around. The alleyway he’s in is empty and full of garbage just scattered around. Wherever he may be, it clearly needed to invest more in its sanitation department. 

He spots a fire escape on the side of a building and uses it to climb onto the rooftop, a totally normal course of action. Then he stares at the city, glowing with the street lights and neon business lights and a spotlight with the shape of a bat in it glowing on the clouds. 

“This might as well just happen,” Danny says, “My life is already so weird anyway.”

He stands there for some time, at a loss of what to do next. The wind is cold and brings with it a promise of rain, and from the looks of the dark clouds above him, it’s going to rain soon. Danny needs shelter, fast.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” says someone who snuck up behind him.

Danny shrieks and jumps, nearly going over the edge of the roof.

“Woah!” the person says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to safety. “That was close!” 

Danny blinks up at his savior, then squints. This guy’s definitely not normal, since he’s wearing a domino mask and a lightly armored black suit with a blue bird emblem stretching across his chest. 

“Way to nearly kill him, Nightwing,” says a new person, dropping down onto the roof from the sky. This new person wears red and black, a pair of bandoliers crossing over his chest. 

“Well, I saved him, didn’t I!”

“Um, hi,” Danny interjects. “Thanks for grabbing me before I fell, but who are you?”

“You don’t know who we are?” blue bird asks rather incredulously.

“Do you think I’m asking just for fun.”

Red and black steps in with a smile. “I’m Red Robin, that’s Nightwing. We’re vigilantes trying to keep Gotham safe.”

Danny makes an educated guess that the city they’re currently in is Gotham. Not a city he’s ever heard before, but what does he know?

“Okay,” he says. There’s really not much else he can say.

“You never answered my question,” Nightwing says. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just fine. No idea where I am or how to get home, but it can always be worse, you know?”

“Did you get lost?” Red Robin asks, pulling a holographic computer up from his wrist. Tucker would kill to get his hands on something like that. Danny wonders if he can get his own as a souvenir. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he replies. Another few gunshots ring out loudly through the streets, closer than they were before. Danny flinches, then ducks down a little, looking back towards the street apprehensively. “Um. You guys gonna do anything about that?”

The two vigilantes shrug, as if that’s an acceptable course of action. And then a hand shoots up and grabs the edge of the roof by Danny’s foot, making him jump in the air. Nightwing catches him yet again and moves him away from the ledge. 

A red helmet, leather jacket wearing guy built like a pro-wrestle hauls himself up the roof easily. There are guns tucked into holsters on his thighs and a red, block bat stuck on his chest. 

“Should I be concerned,” Danny says blankly. 

“Nah, it’s just Red Hood,” Red Robin replies, “The only person he ever tries to kill is me.”

“Cause you’re a replacement. And also, get over it, that was ages ago We’re good now. I haven’t even had a Pit Rage episode in months!”

“So the bullets you shot at me last week were just for fun?”

“Yeah, and they were rubber, so it’s not like you would have gotten hurt.”

Danny takes a few steps closer to Nightwing, hiding behind him. He’s getting bad vibes all around from that guy. 

“Tch,” a new voice says right behind Danny, making him flinch. A young boy with a sword steps out from behind him and joins the crew of vigilantes just hanging out on the roof. “As if he’s even worth that much attention.”

“Hello to you too, Demon Brat,” Red Robin says.

“How many of you are there?” Danny asks. “Don’t you need to like, protect the city?”

“Batgirl and Spoiler are working on it,” Nightwing says.

“We’re doing what?” another voice says, and a energetic blond girl dressed in purple armor hops onto the roof, tucking her grappling hook away. Following her is another person in all black, face fully covered, with stitches covering the mouth portion to make it seem as though they can’t talk. The person leaves the blond girl behind to head straight to Danny, making him take a few nervous steps back. 

“Dead,” she says, poking his chest with a finger.

Is that a threat? It feels like a threat. 

“No?” he tries. 

“What are you talking about, Batgirl?” Red Hood interrupts. “We all know the only dead person here is me.”

Everyone promptly groans, telling him to shut up about it and go one night without mentioning his death. 

Okay, that seems concerning! Is he another halfa? Is he like Vlad? Danny’s going to be so mad if he got dropped into another world directly into the hands of another Vlad. 

“You’re dead?” he asks, leaning away from Batgirl as she pokes him once more. 

“Yeah.”

“Same hat?” Danny tries, squinting at him.

“The fuck?” is the answer, which tells him that he probably doesn’t know what Danny’s on about. There’s still a 6% chance that he’s just lying to make Danny look like a fool, though. 

6% is more than 5%, which means it’s enough for him to just act on instinct and walk right up to the gun-wielding Red hood. He tries to consciously use his ghost sense, which is an odd feeling that reminders him of the moment before he hiccups. 

A light blue mist wafts out his mouth. 

Yep, the rumors are true: this man is dead.

“Once, again,” Red Hood says, “The fuck?”

“Seconded,” Nightwing adds.

“Third!” Spoiler joins in. 

Danny takes a page out of Batgirl’s book and pokes Red Hood’s chest. It’s very solid, only hard muscle, and reminds him a bit of Dan. That’s never a good sign. Something about Red Hood is making his skin crawl though, a sense of wrongness that sets alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. 

“Did you come back instantly when you died?” he asks.

The white lenses of Red Hood’s helmet turn neon green. “Why the fuck are you asking me that.”

“Just checking. The green I’m seeing right now is making me think you’re a halfa.”

“What’s a halfa?” Red Robin interjects.

“An unlucky soul like me,” Danny responds, distracted. He lays his palm flat against Red Hood’s chest. The vigilante holds still, as if frozen, letting Danny do as he please. The ectoplasm he feels in other ghosts is usually calm, made unique by the personality of the ghost it belongs to, but it doesn’t roil and try to hurt the host like the ectoplasm in Red Hood is doing. 

He pulls back and looks around at the circle of vigilantes surrounding him. “Can anyone answer how he came back? Where did he even find this must rotten ectoplasm?”

“Pit,” Batgirl helpfully answers.

“Pit,” Danny repeats. “Like a pit of death? Toxic sludge? Landfill pit gone evil? What am I working with here.”

“Lazarus Pits,” the little one with the sword says. “How do you know about them?” He then pulls out his sword and points it at Danny, ignoring the way Nightwing hisses Robin, no! 

His name is Robin? Isn’t that just Red Robin’s name? Did this Robin have a color added to his name as well? 

“I literally don’t, but if it’s green and weird, then it’s probably ecto.” He turns back to Red Hood. “I’m gonna take care of it now.” And then he shoves his hand into Red Hood’s chest, ignoring the alarmed shouts from the other vigilantes. They try to pull him away, but Danny goes intangible, making their hands fall right through him as he gets a good grip on the ecto, sending his own out in a steady stream to chase the rotten flow towards his hand, then yanks it out. 

It’s green and goopy in his hands, steaming slightly in the air. “Ew,” Danny says. “That’s nasty. You were just living with this inside you?”

Red Hood doesn’t seem to hear him. 

Red Hood takes off his helmet and stares at the rotten ectoplasm in Danny’s hand. Nightwing approaches him cautiously, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hood? You doing okay? How are you feeling?”

“It’s gone,” Red Hood answers, shocked. “The Pit Rage. It’s gone. I haven’t felt this clear headed since before I died.”

“That must have sucked,” Danny says empathetically, then shakes the nasty ecto off his hand. It lands on the roof with a wet splat. 

Once again: ew.

“How did you do that?” Red Robin asks, crowding into Danny’s space. Batgirl slides up behind him, trapping him between them. 

“Did you not just watch me yank it out? It was easy. Anyways, y’all got jobs to do, and I got places to go. So I’ll see you never!”

He tries to fly away, but only manages to get a few feet before he’s pulled down by multiple people grabbing at him.

“What is going on here,” A low, gravelly voice demands. Yet another vigilante appears, gliding out of the shadows. This one is much bigger than everyone else, cloaked in darkness, with a helm that has two little ear things poking out on top. 

“Batman,” Robin says, “This meta cured Hood of his Pit Madness.”

“I see,” Batman replies, looking Danny over. “Are you an orphan?”

What the fuck. Who just asks that?

“No.”

“Are your parents well?”

“Sure? My mom was pretty energetic while shooting at me before I came here.”

“You do not have to be unsafe in your home again,” Batman says, grabbing something out of his tactical fanny pack. “You can live with us instead.”

He holds out fucking adoption papers.

Danny backs up as fast as he can, shaking his head. “Oh, no! No you don’t! I did not trade one fruitloop for another!”

“No new brother?” Batgirl asks sadly. 

“Definitely not,” he insists. “No thank you! I’m fine as I am and fully plan on going home.”

Batman frowns. “You said your mother was shooting at you.”

“Yeah, and? The food in our fridge comes to life every meal and we have to fight it. This is normal for us. Chill out and put those papers away.”

The entire crew of vigilantes seems very put out with Batman obligingly puts the adoption papers away. 

“Yeah, I’m done here. Go back to protecting the city. I’m just gonna… go.”

Danny doesn’t wait for them to say anything else before flies away, remembering to go intangible this time. He soars through the polluted streets of Gotham, weaving between tall buildings made with dark stone and decorated with gargoyles. It’s all very dark and dreary, which means Sam would love it.

She would not be loving the pollution, though. Danny certainly isn’t. 

“I wish I could go home,” he says loudly, looking up at the sky expectantly. 

No magic portal appears to yoink him back. 

“I wish I was at home again, and not here!”

Desire does not appear to help him out. She leaves him stranded in Gotham, pouting at the sky until he gives up and flies down to sit on a new roof and angst about his situation. Hopefully this time a gaggle of vigilantes won’t bother him.

Resting his head against his hands, he sighs. Then again, and again, loudly. “Man, this sucks,” he says to himself.

“What’s got a kitten like you so down?” someone says behind him.

“I’m so tired of random people sneaking up behind me on rooftops,” he informs them without turning around. If they wanna talk to him, they gotta got to him, not the other way around.

“Ah, ran into the Bats, did you?”

They’re called Bats? But only two were Bats. None of the other vigilantes fit the theme. That’s just lazy and inconsistent. They should rebrand to something better.

The person walks over and sits down next to him. Danny glances over and is startled to find a woman in a leather body suit, with a hood that has cat ears and googles with an orange tint. 

…Is everyone in this city just dressed strangely at all times? Is this the normal fashion of Gotham?

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Who are you?”

The woman laughs. “Oh, so you haven’t heard of Catwoman?”

“Nope. No clue who you are.”

“Well,” she purrs, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m a thief.”

The dots connect in his mind. “Like a cat burglar!”

“Yes, like that.”

“Man, this city is wild and I come from a place that deals with ghosts on a daily basis.”

“So what are you doing in a place like this? Gotham isn’t kind to newcomers.”

Danny sighs, yet again, and tilts his head back to look up at the cloudy, starless sky. “I made a dumb mistake and got sucked into a magic portal that spit me out here. I have no clue how I’m going to get home.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

He glares at Catwoman. “I’m not open to being adopted. I’ll just eat any papers you send my way.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she reassures, “I have no interest in being a mother. But I have a spare bedroom if you need it, and I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few tricks of the trade. It’ll be fun, messing with Batman.”

Ah, so she’s doing this for Trickster Reasons. Danny can respect that. 

And he also doesn’t have any other options. Considering how much gun violence and general violence he’s hearing in this city, he’ll probably be killed an embarrassing number of times just from trying to find a place to sleep on the streets for one night. Between cold, dangerous streets with storm clouds hanging heavy over his head or a guest bedroom in the home of a thief with a theme, there’s really no choice.

“If you don’t mind me hanging around, I’d really appreciate having a place to sleep until I figure out a way home.”

“Come along, then! I was just about to turn in for the night.” Catwoman stands up, stretches, then takes hold of the whip on her waist and snaps it out. She takes a running leap off the building, then throws her whip out to wrap around a billboard to swing across the street. 

Danny watches her go, then follows her lead, flying behind her, ready to catch her just in case. But Catwoman moves with ease, clearly experienced in recklessly moving through the streets, and makes her way to a highrise apartment with no trouble at all. 

They land on a balcony just as the sky rumbles with ominous thunder. Another second later, and the clouds open up and heavy rain begins to fall. 

Catwoman throws the door open and they both scramble to get inside before they get drenched. The lights flick on, revealing a stylish modern apartment, filled with art pieces and ornamental bonsai trees. A few quiet cries come from corners of the room, and then cats appear, one after another, moving around Danny’s legs curiously before turning to Catwoman. 

“That was a close one,” Catwoman says conversationally as she takes off her hood and googles, revealing her face. Her pixie cut is messy and her eyes are bright and sharp, just like a cat’s. “I suppose since we’re going to be working together from now on, that we properly introduce ourselves.” She holds out a hand for to shake. “Selina Kyle. I look forward to the trouble we’ll cause together.”

Danny stares down at her hand, then takes hold of it. Looks like he’s going to be a thief! Well, it’ll be a fun story for later. 

He doesn’t want his name attached to his new life of crime, though. And, he figures, this is a fresh start. New life, new name. There’s one that pops into mind immediately, and he latches onto it, ready to step into the world of crime. 

“Call me Neal Caffrey,” he says, shaking her hand. “I’m ready to start when you are.”

[nevadancitizen]

do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale. 

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who. 

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth. 

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says. 

“I know,” you say. 

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.” 

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature). 

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says. 

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his. 

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s. 

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…” 

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that. 

-> KöNIG: 

König nearly always hates going undercover. 

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not. 

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles. 

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear. 

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are. 

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says. 

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor. 

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony. 

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless. 

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath. 

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light. 

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

[via-l0ve]

perhaps maybe some sam and colby headcannons? like if u joined them on a vid or something with a little silly romance !! i love all the headcannons you do and i am absolutely rolling around on the ground at the goofy ones 🫶🫶

S&C Headcannons! 👻

a/n: hi i love sam and colby they’re so cute and funky LMFAOO. i see a lot of colby x readers so i decided to make this a sam x reader 🩷🩷 love you guys! this is kind of short, so if you want me to do a pt. 2 js lmk!!!

Warnings: sam x gn!reader (romantic), colby x gn! reader (platonic), swearing, ghost hunting lol

you get to intro the video and the boys are sitting next to you like 😀👍

they make you introduce yourself and give you a little title card with some swaggy music

Sam is always next to you and you’re definitely wearing some of his XPLR merch

you’re holding the camera and something scary happens and you LAUNCH the camera and it hits colby in the stomach

you’re dying and sam is cackling and colby is crying because ouch

let’s say you’re at a haunted hotel or something and you have a guide and you’re really into it and getting all the lore and the guys are behind you talking about harry styles and how colby’s ball hurts from that camera throw

sam has an arm wrapped around you all the time

the guide brings you into the most haunted room and you’re looking all around and getting chills

ALWAYS sending weird glances to the camera

if you’re filming you make sure to get really bad angles of the boys

you guys have a one direction concert in the car

Colby gets scared and jumps back and bumps into you and you grab his sweatshirt but you loose your balance and fall into sam and sam falls and colby falls ontop of you and you go

*WHEEZE*

and everyone is so concerned

had to take a break after that one

when you ask the questions to the ghosts they answer fr and sam is nervous for you

they both think you might have an empath thing going on

you have to do the estes method and sam is so worried, colby is standing right next to you like a worried parent

the moment you feel nervous sam dosent make you stay if you’re uncomfortable but you always end up staying anyways cus you ain’t no BITCH

colby screeches like a child every time something happens

let’s say you get scratched

sam is SPRINTING with some Neosporin or something

colby is freaking out

“ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod”

sam always calls you down

forehead and cheek kisses constantly

[jklinges2003]

Just a Ghost of a Girl You Once Knew and Loved

A/N: Hey guys I decided to make my first short fanfiction on here. Even though I’ve made a lot of fanfics on Quotev, this is my first time writing one on tumblr, so if I mess up, don’t judge lol! Anyway, I started watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” with my mom, including watching season 2 this summer and I swear it just leaves me intrigued, makes me laugh, makes feel like I’m actually in it and I wish I really was. And I am so team Jeremiah all the way! So, after I watched 2x06 and 2x07, in episode 6, Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss while at the end of episode 7, they finally kiss, but I can’t find the GIF from episode 6 from when they almost kiss cuz that’s what I want this short fanfic to be about and take place in. And I also might switch POVs.

codes: Y/N = Your name

Y/EC = Your eye color

SUMMARY: So, I imagined what would happen if a girl in the show (Y/N) was best friends with Belly for a long time and had a huge crush on Jeremiah at first, and even Y/N hooked up with Jeremiah in the first season but after him and Conrad’s mom Susannah died and after Y/N has been seeing signs of Jeremiah having feelings for Belly, they broke up before the events of season 2, but Y/N’s feelings for Jeremiah have never faded and as the group reunited in season 2, Y/N has been holding onto hope that something could happen with her and Jeremiah because she’s missed him so much. And even Jeremiah feels the same, but he just wouldn’t admit to her or even to himself since a part of him still has feelings for Belly. And throughout season 2, Y/N has been trying some casual attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention but failed every time. So, one night as the gang throws a party at the beach house to honor Susannah, and while Y/N was hanging out with a couple of friends, she witnesses something that just pushes her to her breaking point, increases her insecurities and her anger/jealousy towards Belly while she’s been trying to keep her friendship with her intact, and Y/N’s heartbroken behavior strikes a chord in Jeremiah and hits him with guilt.

SONG: “Part of Your World (Reprise II)” by Halle Bailey from Disney’s live-action Little Mermaid. I feel like the song matches Y/N’s situation really well, and I love Disney songs, so I wanted to choose this song.

Y/N’s POV:

The party for Susannah has been going great! It’s fun, loud, and it was a beautiful way to honor Susannah. I hoped I’d get closer with Jeremiah this time because out of all the attempts to try and get his attention while he’s been going all lovey-dovey on Belly even though they’re not even dating, I’ve failed. Jeremiah and I had something special last summer, we bonded really well, he brought out the best in me, and there’s nobody like him. He’s irreplaceable. At first I’ve always been a very shy and self-conscious girl, but after bonding with Jeremiah, his childish personality and his sweetness and fun energy is just so contagious that it just makes you wanna have fun and laugh with him. So, he brought out the fun and confidence that I never knew I had in me. And we even felt a strong connection and spark between us. Being with him always made me feel safe, he’s easy to talk to, he’s relatable, his light blue eyes just take my breath away and you can easily see the emotion in them. But, unfortunately, I regret us breaking up in the first place after Susannah died. And I could see it in his eyes that he does, too. Whenever he and I would talk, I could easily see that he feels lost and confused, like he wants to be with me again as if us breaking up was a mistake for him, too, but also another part of him wants to be with Belly since his feelings for her never faded while my feelings for Jeremiah have never faded. And every time he’d be affectionate and sweet towards Belly, my close best friend and who’s like a sister to me, I can’t help but feel nauseous as if seeing the sight of them together just makes me wanna puke, even though they’re not dating, but I respect their close friendship since they grew up together, and I have been trying to be strong and understanding and nice, but inwardly I just feel sick and it’s suffocating me, like I’m tired of bottling it up. And I have no one to talk to about it since I feel like they wouldn’t understand and that they’d think of me as just a sad pathetic ex-girlfriend who can’t get over her ex-boyfriend.

After watching Taylor and Steven’s talented dance moves for the song “Party In The U.S.A.”, I went back to hang out with Nicole and Dara. We laughed and talked for a bit until one of the girls brought up a relationship she’s in, and that immediately made me think of Jeremiah.

Since Jeremiah has always brought out the confidence in me, I have been thinking about it for a while and I have been waiting all summer to tell him my feelings and that I’ve never stopped loving him even though I was scared to since I didn’t wanna stand in the way between him and Belly. But, I realized I’ve got nothing to lose, and that it’s now or never.

I excused myself from the girls and walked into the crowd to look for Jeremiah. I looked and looked and looked. Until I saw something that just hit me in the heart. I saw Jeremiah and Belly sitting together closely, talking and looking at each other that way. I stood and watched worriedly as I glanced at Jeremiah and then Belly. The way they looked at each other was the same way me and Jeremiah looked at each other last summer when we hooked up and fell in love. I felt like I just wanted to run out of the room and throw up. Then, they stopped talking while still looking at each other with smirks, and then they both slowly leaned in, almost about to kiss until a girl yelling “Fight! Fight!” in another room interrupted them and gathered a crowd. Seeing Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss just hit me in my breaking point. I was about to tell Jeremiah how I felt and that I never stopped loving him, but after seeing what I saw…my chance was ruined. I was too late. The hope I had in me all summer was broken and turned into dust. And I felt ignored after all the tried-and-failed attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention, like as if I were a ghost of a girl he once knew and loved. Like as if what we had before was just nothing.

While the fight between Taylor’s ex-boyfriend Milo and Belly’s brother Steven was occurring in the other room, some other kids didn’t bother to watch the fight and just stayed behind, wanting to stay out of it. And also they were also either drunk or high. I’ve never been one to drink or do drugs or smoke or any of that stuff, I’ve made a vow to myself that I’d live life in a clean state of mind. But after witnessing Jeremiah and Belly together, since it hit my breaking point, I was at that stage where I didn’t wanna feel anything anymore.

I walked over to the group of kids in the kitchen, not wanting to talk to them, and instead just opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. Since my emotions were shut off, I let my impulsiveness get the best of me and I started to open the bottle and chug the alcohol drink. I didn’t care that it tasted bad, I was just tired of feeling this way. After finishing half of the bottle already and walking around the party, trying to avoid Jeremiah, I then saw him and Conrad standing outside with Belly stuck in the middle of them and the two brothers were arguing, and I could easily tell that it was about Belly.

Ever since Belly has been hooking up with Jeremiah at first and then Conrad and then having to choose between them, I felt bad for her but I also got irritated at her because every time they would be loving and sweet to her, instead of listening to her heart about who she truly wants to be with, she just kept letting it happen and kept throwing herself at them, playing both brothers. They both don’t deserve that. Especially Jeremiah since after he and I got together, Belly and Conrad got together temporarily, and then since Jeremiah’s been crushing on Belly while he was really in love with me, and he was angry at Belly for hooking up with Conrad since her and Jeremiah kissed before while he and I were together which also caused our relationship to go downhill. The love triangle between Jeremiah, Belly, and Conrad is just stupid and annoying since Belly won’t make a decision about who she truly wants to be with, and now with me in it, it has turned into a love square. And the last thing I wanted was to be involved in a love triangle, let alone a love square. And now I got dragged into it due to my feelings for Jeremiah never leaving me. Could things get any worse?!

I continued drinking the rest of the bottle of beer, trying to numb everything inside me and to just escape from the pain. I started to get a little tipsy and even though it felt wrong, it also felt good since it helped numb the pain. Then while stumbling around the party and then sitting on the floor in a corner of a room, taking a few more swigs of the beer bottle, I started to lose myself into sorrow and despair.

The bottle of beer was then almost done. I was now really drunk. I kept accidentally bumping into people while stumbling and trying to keep myself standing. But, I started to hear Nicole ask me if I was okay since she saw that I wasn’t myself. My facial expression was blank, my eyes looked like as if something inside them had died, my face was tear-stained which caused a bit of mascara to run down my face, and my hair was a little bit untidy. When she asked if I was okay, my vision was blurry, my hearing was distorted and echoey, and my head was spinning and fuzzy. I didn’t respond to Nicole and instead just accidentally lost my balance near another kid who was carrying a glass of a drink, causing that kid to accidentally drop his glass which broke when it fell. And when I fell, the palm of my hand landed on the broken glass which caused my hand to bleed a little, but I didn’t feel the pain since I was numb and drunk.

A tiny crowd of the people gathered around me and started to look at me in concern, worry, and confusion all at once, and that was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t wanna be viewed as someone who was fragile and vulnerable, even though I knew that it was okay to be vulnerable once in a while since everybody has strengths and weaknesses. But, I just didn’t care anymore.

While there was a few people gathered around me, I kept reassuring them that I was okay, but the one person who I definitely didn’t want to check on me was none other than Jeremiah himself, but he checked on me anyway.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” Jeremiah asked as he kneeled down beside me to try to help me up, but I kept brushing him off and tried to pretend that I wasn’t hurting, both emotionally and physically. Emotionally from witnessing Jeremiah and Belly almost about to kiss, and physically from losing my balance due to my drunken state and falling to the floor and the palm of my hand landing on broken glass. So I even tried to hide my drunken state from Jeremiah since I didn’t want his pity.

“It’s f-f-fine. I’m…fine, Jer.” I tried to reassure, my voice slurring a bit as I tried to help myself up and stand on my own feet without losing my balance again and without Jeremiah seeing my bleeding hand.

But, he was looking at me that way with concern and worry. I finally managed to stand on my own two feet and then walked away from the crowd, stumbling and limping.

Jeremiah’s POV:

Seeing Y/N like this had me worried. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but she seemed pretty drunk and she looked upset for some reason. She shouldn’t be alone. She could get hurt or end up doing something stupid.

I followed her as she stumbled out of the room, but I lost her in the crowd. I looked around for her until something caught my eye. I saw her outside on the patio, walking away from the beach house and just heading down to the beach, still stumbling and limping.

I walked outside to the patio and follow Y/N down to the beach with the dark night sky in the view. She didn’t look like herself. I was really worried.

“Y/N! Y/N, what are you doing?” I asked her in concern as I caught up with her. Her pupils were dilated, her hair was untidy, she could barely walk, and she even had mascara running down her face so she looked like she had been crying. But why?

“Going to the beach. What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked sassily, her voice slurring. She was definitely drunk. I’ve always known her to be a goody-goody girl who would never want to drink, do drugs, or smoke, but she was actually drunk. What changed?

“But, y-you’re drunk. Are you sure you’re okay? And you fell back in there. Are you hurt?” I asked as I stopped her from walking any further towards the water since she’s too intoxicated to go for a swim. When I asked if she was hurt, I looked all over her body for any cuts or bruises or anything, until I spotted her hand bleeding. I took that hand gently and looked at her worriedly. But she immediately yanked her hand away and glared at me for some reason before stumbling to walk further towards the water. I stood in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders, preventing her from doing so.

“Y/N, your hand is bleeding. We need to clean that up and put either some band-aids or gauze on there. Let’s just go back inside, okay?” I said to her calmly, but sternly and worriedly before I put an arm around her shoulders to help her walk back inside the beach house. But she immediately refused and put up a fake smile, and her fake smile looked angry.

“No! No, no, no, no. I’m fine, Jer. You don’t need to help me. Why don’t you go and help Belly instead, hm? I’m sure she’s probably going through a lot after being stuck having to choose between you and your brother. So go ahead, why don’t you go help her and be her shoulder to cry on? I can take care of myself.” Y/N said while slurring before letting out a hiccup at the end of her last sentence. She was being stubborn as hell. And this was also a side of her that I’ve never seen before. Why was she acting this way, especially towards me?

“Y/N, I’m not gonna leave you out here by yourself, especially with your drunken behavior. I’m not gonna let you do something stupid. Like, what were you planning to do out here at the beach? Why were you walking towards the water?” I asked her, trying to be calm and gentle, but I had a bad feeling about Y/N’s intentions that it built worry inside me which caused me to raise my voice a little bit.

“None of your business. What is this, 20 questions or something? Just leave me alone, Jeremiah.” Y/N spat out, still slurring before she walked past me, still stumbling. I watched her about to go into the water, but her legs were shaking as if she could barely stand. I wanted to stop her and go get her, but I wanted to see what she was planning to do first so that I can really know what’s going on. She stopped for a second as the water reached to her knees, then she kept going until it was at her waist and she started to cover her mouth with her hand and then cover her nose with her other hand before she began to dunk her head into the water.

I widened my eyes as it immediately clicked. Y/N was about to kill herself by drowning while drunk! As I finally knew what she was about to do, I immediately took action and rushed into the water, grabbing Y/N by the waist and dragging her out of the water. She started screaming protests at me to let her go, but I couldn’t let her do this. I care about her so much. And…I actually love her, even though a part of me loves Belly. I just don’t know what to do. But after seeing Y/N like this and after us reuniting along with the others, I was actually really glad to see her. She’s a sight for sore eyes. She’s beautiful, she’s kind, caring, warm, honest, sweet, sassy, headstrong, authentic, moral, the voice of reason, and a talented singer with a beautiful voice. She’s even a better singer than I am. I did like her when she was a shy and introverted girl, though, I thought she looked adorable whenever she’d blush. But after we bonded last summer and fell in love, I started to see a more confident and silly side of her and I couldn’t help but love her even more. I miss what Y/N and I had together, even though I love Belly, too, but it’s not really the same with Belly actually. Y/N’s the one I feel something strong and loving for. She’s even tried to be there for me after my mom died, but I was too blind in my own grief and in my own conflicted feelings for Belly to even see it. How could I have been so blind?

Seeing Y/N acting like this was just heartbreaking and shocking to me. I was even more worried about her, especially since she just tried to kill herself by drowning in the ocean while completely drunk.

As I dragged her back to the sand while she was screaming protests at me, I ignored the protests and looked at her in shock, anger, heartbreak, and worry all at once.

“Y/N, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why are you trying to kill yourself?” I asked her sternly as I held back tears in my eyes since I was trying to be strong for her.

“Why did you just help me?! I told you to go be with Belly!” Y/N snapped while slurring as tears filled her eyes. Why is she bringing up Belly while I’m focusing on Y/N and her safety?

“Y/N, this isn’t about Belly, this is about you. You’re drunk, you look like you’ve been crying, you’re acting like a different person, and you tried to kill yourself! Why are you acting like this, Y/N? Did something happen? Talk to me.” I said to her sternly, but calmly as I tried to keep myself together.

“No, if you wanna go be with Belly, be with her! She’s all yours! I won’t stand in the way! So, just leave me alone!” Y/N snapped as a tear rolls down her cheek, her voice still slurring. Why is she talking about Belly like this? She’s Y/N’s best friend and they’ve always been like sisters. This wasn’t the Y/N I knew and loved.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? What do you mean you won’t stand in the way and that Belly’s all mine? Where’s all this coming from?” I asked her in concern, hoping to get her to talk. But, she immediately exploded the truth about the cause of her problem while slurring.

“I SAW! I saw everything! I saw you and Belly almost kiss back in there before the fight between Milo and Steven broke out!” Y/N shouted through her slurs and through her tears. She even had her eyes either looking down or her eyes closed as if she could barely look at me.

When she admitted that to me, I started to remember when me and Belly talked back in the house during the party, and we talked about the flings I had from last summer and through the whole year after me and Y/N broke up and when Belly got together with Conrad. Then I remembered telling Belly that she’s a better kisser than out of all the girls and guys I’ve kissed, including Y/N. I can’t believe I actually said that because Y/N was a good kisser, too. She really was. And I even remembered during this whole summer when me and her and the rest of the gang were hanging out and Y/N tried some attempts to get my attention since she must’ve had hope for us and I didn’t even realize it. I’ve been ignoring Y/N all summer and I didn’t realize it till now. How could I have been so stupid?!

I felt such a pang of guilt and regret for how I’ve been treating Y/N. I’ve treated her as if she weren’t around and as if she were second and I’ve been putting Belly first. I realized Belly’s not the only one stuck in the middle of a love triangle and between me and my brother, I was even stuck between two girls who matter so much to me. With Belly, it was real and I really loved her, at first it was like a brother and sister relationship, but…ever since I saw her last summer, I was done for. She took my heart with her. But then, at that time, Belly brought Y/N to Cousins for the first time and introduced her as her best friend, and Y/N just took my breath away. I know that I started to feel something for Belly, but when I met Y/N, I knew there was something special about her that was just so magnetic to me. I wanted to know her. And what we had was real and strong, too. And I realized now that it was stronger than what me and Belly had because even if Belly liked me back a bit, it was always gonna be Conrad for her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. It finally hit me.

Y/N’s the one for me.

I looked at her with guilt, regret, and sympathy as I realized what I put her through and what she had to witness tonight. I put a hand on her arm, trying to be as comforting as possible.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I-I-I didn’t realize that you…” I was just at a loss for words as I still kept trying to process this.

“That I what?! Huh? That my feelings for you still haven’t faded and that I never stopped loving you?! I’ve tried to get your attention all summer and tried to get you to realize that I’m still here, but you just kept pining for Belly and acting all affectionate to her while you ignored me and acted as if I wasn’t the room, like as if what we had together has been forgotten! And you and her aren’t even dating, yet you act like you are, even though you two are best friends, but why can’t you just admit it to yourself that…that you still love me, too? I’ve seen it in your eyes, they can easily tell what you’re feeling. And when you were around me this summer, I had hope for us! But you just won’t open your eyes and realize what’s right in front of you! I was about to tell you how I felt, and yet I catch you and Belly about to kiss! I just…I just couldn’t bear the sight of that, so I’m actually glad the fight between Milo and Steven broke out and interrupted you and Belly. I know that’s rude to say, but I just can’t pretend that I’m okay anymore! All this time ever since everything that’s happened, I haven’t been okay! And neither have you, and I’ve tried to be there for you and reconnect with you at least, but…you didn’t want anything to do with me and the only person you’d talk to was Belly! I’ve gone through enough hell. And so has Belly, so I’m just gonna go…have a little ‘chat’ with her.” Y/N explained everything to me through her tears and her drunken slurs about the hell she’s been going through ever since me and her broke up and ever since my mom died.

And as she said everything, it was all true and I didn’t even realize it all till now. And what she said struck a chord in me. I’ve been leaving her all alone and I shouldn’t have done that. Well, not anymore. I’m not gonna leave her alone anymore, no matter how much she stubbornly tells me off. I’m gonna make up for my mistakes. Then, as Y/N says the last part, she stumbles as she stands up on her feet, holding her fingers up like quotes. I knew she wasn’t just gonna have chat with Belly, she was gonna confront her. I couldn’t have her do that. Her friendship with Belly has always been so important to her so I couldn’t let her be the one to destroy it by having a confrontation and argument with Belly.

“Y/N, no. Just…Just come back to the house, I’ll let you stay with me, okay?” I offered kindly as I tried to help her and not let her be by herself in her drunken state and in her painful heartbreak.

“No! I don’t need saving, Jer. I’m not some piece of glass who’ll end up breaking. I’m fine. Just let me go.” Y/N protested as she tried to walk away from me and walk back to the house. I wanted to stay with her, but I had to respect her decision if she could handle it. I watched in concern from behind as Y/N kept stumbling up the small wooden board steps that would lead up to the patio of the beach house, her legs started to shake again as if she could barely stand and walk.

She then took another step until she tripped and fell down to her knees, making me immediately rush up to her side and try to help her up and help her walk.

“Y/N, let me help you.” I offered while trying to help her stand, but she pushed me away and kept protesting.

“No! Just leave me alone, Jer! If you don’t walk away right now, I’m gonna have to beat the shit out of you!” Y/N threatened drunkenly while she was holding back tears again and trying to stand up on her own.

“Oh, yeah? Let me see you try. I’m not gonna leave you, no matter how many times you push me away. I’ve pushed you away already, I’m not doing it this time.” I responded with sternness and determination in my voice.

As I challenged her to see her try if she can fight me off and push me away, I knew she didn’t have the guts to do it since I knew she still had love in her heart for me. She sat on her knees while I was kneeling next to her, and she turned around and tried slapping my chest and shoving me away, but her pushes weren’t strong enough. She kept trying and trying through her frustrated grunts as if I were her punching bag, but I didn’t let it affect me. She needed to take it out on anything or anyone. And since she was mad at me, I already took responsibility for how I treated her, so I felt like I deserved to be slapped and pushed since I was actually such an asshole.

Then after a few failed shoves and slight slaps from her, she started to get frustrated and feel defeated since I wasn’t going anywhere. Her shoves and slaps started to weaken and she immediately began to finally let out her tears even more. She broke down sobbing as her attempts to push me away and slap me were weakening and slowing down, and she started to lean her head and body against me while sobbing in defeat, frustration, and heartbreak. I wrapped my arms around her securely and protectively, holding her close to me and never wanting to let go of her.

“Shhh…it’s okay, it’s okay, Y/N. You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? Shh…” I whispered softly while holding her tightly but gently, trying to comfort her. She still kept crying in my arms, one of my hands rubbing her back and my other hand caressing the back of her head and her hair. I held back tears as the sound of her cries just broke my heart.

“Y-You left me, Jer…! Why are you still here? Why aren’t you leaving me now? You…You love Belly…!” Y/N said through her drunken sobs as if she was expecting me to just walk away from her after I’ve been ignoring her all summer that she was used to being walked away and abandoned. My heart was just absolutely breaking for her even more. She didn’t deserve this at all. How could I do this to her?

“Because…Because I…I-I-I still—” I was about to respond to her that it was because I still loved her, but before I could finish, I felt her body go limp and she was breathing normally and peacefully, her eyes were closed while her face was tear-stained, and she still had mascara running down her face. She was passed out drunk in my arms.

I sighed guiltily and shamefully, and yet in relief that she was finally out cold so that she wouldn’t do anything stupid while drunk. Then, I put a hand under her legs while I put another hand under her back, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style.

I walked back in the beach house while carrying a passed out asleep Y/N through the party in the house, hoping everyone wouldn’t gossip or be concerned about it since I was already taking care of it. And also some of the kids were drunk anyway, so I’m sure some of the other kids didn’t care.

Then, I carried Y/N to my empty bedroom which only had my sleeping bag since me and Conrad’s bitchy aunt Julia removed everything from the house since she was selling it. And I hated that the beach house was being sold. It held too much memories of me and Conrad’s mom. But now that all the furniture is gone, it’s like memories of our mom are gone, too.

I gently laid Y/N on another sleeping bag that I had laying next to mine and I tucked her in, making sure she was comfortable. Then, I stood up and looked at her sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, despite that she was a drunken mess tonight and despite the mascara running down her face, she still looked beautiful to me. Then, I started to hear a girl crying coming from the bedroom next to mine. I leaned against the wall and heard Belly drunkenly crying in her bedroom. She was trying to call her mom, Laurel, for help since she had nowhere else to turn to about the situation with her having to choose between me and Conrad which is causing tension between me and my brother and also she told Laurel about trying to get the house back while everything she’s trying to do to help just keeps going wrong and she needed help. Her cries even broke my heart. A part of me wanted to go in there and hold her. I couldn’t bear to have my best friend upset like this. But, after what Y/N has been through not just tonight but throughout the whole year?

I thought about it for a moment again and I looked over at a sleeping Y/N, and I told myself again that I’m never gonna abandon her again. I’ve been focusing on Belly and putting her first all summer that I’ve been ignoring Y/N, so it’s time to make up for my mistakes and put Y/N first this time.

I slowly walked over to her and laid down in my sleeping bag right next to the sleeping bag that Y/N is sleeping in. I stared at her sleeping face again and after what happened tonight, I can’t get it out of my head. I could’ve lost Y/N tonight and it was my fault. As I looked at her with remorse, guilt, care, and sympathy, it felt as if a magnet was pulling me. I sat up and leaned forward and down, planting a gentle loving kiss on Y/N’s cheek before laying back down, getting ready to go to sleep.

Y/N’s POV:

As I was passed out asleep from being drunk tonight, I had no idea where I was at the moment. But, I opened my eyes very slightly in which my vision was very blurry and the room was dark since it was nighttime and my hearing was ringing and echoey as the party was going on downstairs. All I could see was someone’s sleeping face in front of mine, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Instead, my eyes just closed again as my eyelids just felt too heavy to be open and my head was pounding.

The next morning, I started to feel like crap. I opened my eyes slightly as the ringing in my ears started and then finally faded away. My head was pounding, I felt a bit nauseous, makeup was running down my face, and my hair was untidy. I looked around the room and wondered how I got here. I also noticed a gauze wrapped around one of my hands. I couldn’t even remember a thing about what happened last night. I could only remember that I was dancing and hanging out with a couple of girlfriends, and then I was crying for some reason, and that I took a walk on the beach. But the rest was all just a blur.

As I slowly sat up, I immediately heard a familiar voice next to me.

“Morning, Y/N.” Jeremiah said to me sleepily but with a concerned and sympathetic look on his face. I looked over at him and seeing him lay there next to me startled me and left me in surprise. What was he doing here laying next to me while he ignored me all summer? What the hell happened?

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as my head was still pounding a bit.

“Jeremiah? Wh-What are you doing here? What am I doing in…in your empty bedroom? What happened last night?” I asked nervously and in confusion, my voice slightly slurring since I was hungover, and I needed answers.

“You don’t remember?” Jeremiah asked in concern as he sat up, sitting next to me. I tried to think hard and see if I could remember anything about what happened last night, but I couldn’t remember. I looked over at him and shook my head.

Then, the moment was interrupted when me and Jeremiah heard Belly and her mom Laurel arguing in the room next door, their voices muffled until we heard Belly’s bedroom door open and close. Jeremiah helped me stand up to my feet before we both walked over to the door and opened it, only to see a crying Belly walking past us and past Conrad in the hallway. She looked behind her and glanced at us before continuing to walk away and walk downstairs. I wondered why she was upset. But whatever it was, I was concerned and felt bad for her.

Then Conrad looked over at us and glanced at me before looking at his brother as if he were encouraging him or something. Jeremiah nodded softly at him before taking my hand, closing the door behind us as we’re still in his empty bedroom. He sat us on the sleeping bags as I looked at him in confusion and in concern. He looked like he wanted to tell me something.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t remember anything about last night?” Jeremiah asked me in concern in which I shook my head slightly before responding.

“All I remember is dancing and laughing while hanging out with a couple of girlfriends and then…I was crying for some reason, and then I took a walk on the beach. And the rest is all just a blur. And now for some reason I ended up here. What happened, Jer?” I explained all I could remember before asking him in concern about what else happened last night.

He took a deep breath while trying to find the right words to explain to me about what else happened last night. He looked as if he didn’t wanna bring up what happened last night since it would bring back the pain and heartbreak.

“Well, um…you, uh…you were pretty drunk. And…you were at the beach to go in the water to…to commit suicide, but I stopped you and asked you what was wrong, and you…admitted that you, um…saw me and Belly…almost kiss. And…you also explained to me the hell you’ve been going through ever since our breakup a few months ago and ever since my mom’s death. And…also that I’ve been ignoring you all the summer since I’ve been focusing a lot on Belly and I was too blind to see that…that you were still in my life and…” Jeremiah explained everything to me before he trailed off and paused as he could barely finish the sentence. His eyes were tearing up as he felt huge remorse and guilt for what he put me through and he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, very sorry about how I’ve treated you like as if you weren’t in the room. I’m so sorry I ignored you and didn’t put you first and didn’t realize what you were going through. That’s a mistake I won’t make again. I feel like I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but…I realized that…that I also never stopped loving you.” Jeremiah apologized sincerely as a tear rolled down his cheek. As he explained everything, I started to remember a little bit even though it was still a blur. I felt embarrassed that I vented to him about how I’ve been feeling the night before and I didn’t wanna drag him into my problems. But when he said that he also never stopped loving me, I widened my eyes and looked at him in surprise.

“I…Oh my God, I feel so embarrassed for my behavior. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I dragged you into my problems. But…But what about Belly? You love her, don’t you?” I asked, unsure if he was just playing me if a part of him is gonna feel something for Belly and I didn’t want him to choose between me and her. But I was unaware that he already made a decision.

“Yeah, about that, I thought I felt something for her since…last summer when I saw her new glow up and when she first brought you to Cousins for the first time…I thought I was done for. Like, I really felt something for her, but…when I met you and bonded with you and also she’s always gonna love Conrad, even if she won’t admit it to herself…I realized I was lying to myself. I thought I liked her, but…Belly’s not like you, Y/N. You’re irreplaceable. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t see that sooner. Ending things between us was a mistake. I miss what you and I had just as much as you do. And…I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but I—” Jeremiah said honestly to me as he took my hand. But, I was actually proud of him for finally making his decision. And I just hoped that Belly would soon decide who she truly wants, too, and I hoped it would be Conrad she’d choose because they were actually good together, even though they were opposites.

So, as Jeremiah kept talking, I immediately cut off him off by quickly leaning in and kissing him on the lips, taking him by surprise until he kissed me back. Our kiss was passionate, loving, and tender. His lips just felt so soft and smooth and he was a very good kisser. Then, we pulled away as we gazed in each other’s eyes, his bright blue eyes staring into my Y/EC.

“So…does…does that mean you…forgive me?” Jeremiah asked while he was still in shock from me making the first move and kissing him.

“Of course I forgive you, you lovable doofus.” I responded while smirking and tousling Jeremiah’s golden curls, messing his hair up and making him laugh.

“Hey!” Jeremiah whined playfully through his laughter before flipping his short golden curly hair, making it still look the same as it did before. I giggled before he smirked and tickled me on my waist as revenge from when I untidied his hair.

I squealed and laughed and squirmed around as he tickled me. Then I waved my hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I give! I surrender!” I protested through my laughter before Jeremiah stopped tickling me and smirked. Then he leaned down as I was laying down on my back on the sleeping bag and we giggled again before we shared another tender, loving kiss.

I felt my heart beating out of my chest. I was so ecstatic and relieved that I was actually back together with Jeremiah! I felt as if the darkness inside me has been taken away and then the light has risen inside me again.

[whiskersz]

Hello, 👻 anon here! Saw that you're accepting three requests for Adam and well, he's one of my favorites so here I am!

I actually requested this on another blog a while ago, but I'm curious about your take on it. So, would you be willing to write platonic headcannons or ficlet (up to you) for Adam with a gender neutral teenage angel reader? Like the reader died as a teenager and somehow and for some reason Adam took them under his wing. And after a while, the reader starts to see Adam as a father figure and one time the reader accidentally calls Adam 'Dad' but they are very embarrassed about it.

Hope this makes sense, but if it's too specific for you, feel free to decline!

Hope you're doing well!

👻

Hey Ghost! This is such a sweet request, especially for Adam, since he doesn’t exactly have a heart of gold. Reader must have done something really special for him to take them under his wing.

Anyways, here is my interpretation; I ended up basically making up a short story lol, got really into it...hopefully you enjoy!!

Platonic Father Figure Adam x Reader

It took you a while to get used to residing in Heaven, that’s for sure; despite getting the warmest of welcomes from both Saint Peter and the other Angels who would later become your friends, you still found it hard to settle in.

That is until you met Adam.

Adam is very well known both for being the very first man ever created and also the first human soul to ever enter Heaven, and for his notable personality. He’s egotistical, cruel and an overall depraved soul, making you wonder what it really took for a deceased human to end up in Heaven. But let’s not dwell on that too much.

You and Adam met through the concerts of his band; not that he’s the most famous guitar player in Heaven, his band is rather small actually, but you actually have to thank that for getting you multiple meetings with him and the rest of the group. You kind of see them as a family at this point, Adam included.

 You actually end up helping them sometimes, with either the lyrics of their songs or the sonority of their music in general. Everyone appreciates you a lot, although every time you express a negative opinion on how Adam’s bit sounds he’s not afraid of basically telling you off. He secretly values your opinion a lot though, and in his free time, when he’s not busy practicing with the rest of the band or taking care of Extermination matters, he revises on his own on whatever piece sounded off to you.

Either way, Adam ends up becoming pretty protective of you; he even warns his right hand woman, Lute, to never treat you in the wrong way, and from that moment on she gains a lot of respect for you as well.

You three are rarely seen walking around without each other actually, unless you’re out and about with your other friends your age, in which case he warns you that they better treat you right or you’re never seeing them again, to which you retort with saying that this is very unlikely since you’ve known them for a while and this is Heaven after all, if they’re here they must’ve earned it somehow. He simply replies that in the rare case that they do something distasteful to you he’s completely willing to send them where they belong – in Hell.

Adam manages to tone it down with the rude nicknames when it comes to you; he will still call you ‘bitch’ or anything of the like, or he might call you a little asshole from time to time if you do something that mildly annoys him, but he will never go too overboard as he doesn’t really wish to make you uncomfortable – the thoughts in his head though might sound something like: “Ah, shit. I basically became a father figure, call them something weird and they’re gone Adam, gone.”

The one time you manage to make Adam, the First Man, emotional, is the night before the Extermination.

With Charlie’s father, Lucifer himself, somehow getting her to visit Heaven and discuss with Sera and Emily themselves, you’re worried that he might be planning to make an appearance and hurt Adam.

Adam dismisses your theories, even dares to call them stupid, and in a fit of emotion you blurt out a “But I don’t want to lose you just for being careless, dad!”.

You quickly realize what you just said and both your hands travel to your mouth, a shocked expression on both you and Adam’s faces.

He mumbles a ‘shit’ before pulling you into a hug with his wing.

“Promise I’ll watch my back, kid.”