#me: hey maybe we should just chill first i mean you are supposed to be the levelheaded one here

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Full Tech Day One pic today from kiko laureano (denizen of skid row / ensemble) & video (that's four seconds of "ya never know" playing over the static image) from & ft. marcia milgrom dodge (director / choreographer) double captioning "there might be puppets in this musical ;)" & "Well Shake my hand! Come see LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS @guthrietheater featuring @actually_will_roland's hand!"

[its-luna-noel]

your obstinate charge | astarion ancunin

Astarion has never been allowed to say 'no' before. When he does, he realizes who he wants to say 'yes' to. You realize that he could kill you here, right now, in any number of ways. He could slit your throat, drive a dagger beneath your ribs & pierce your heart, bleed you dry until you're nothing but a memory upon this land. You realize this, and yet your body relaxes in his hands. You trust him completely.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, afab reader but any pronouns, durge reader, act 2 spoilers, previous abuse, smut, oral (f! & m! receiving), blood drinking

word count: 5.3k

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hello! i wrote this last year and posted on ao3, and i wasn't going to cross post since my blog is mostly jjk, but i reread it and was really proud of it, so here it is on tumblr! ty for reading & hope you enjoy!

Everyone at camp can see that Astarion is in a foul mood.

You arrived back at Last Light after your first journey to Moonrise Towers, finally having arrived at your end goal to destroy these tadpoles, and before you could all share your discoveries with the rest of the party, Astarion strode off towards the waterline, ducking into darkness before you could grab him.

You stare after him for a moment and shake your head. Then you turn towards the fire, folding your legs under you as you ready yourself for dinner.

Gale passes you a wooden bowl of the same stew you'd been eating since arriving in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. "How did it go?" he asks.

You shake your head again, shoving food in your mouth, and lift your shoulder in a shrug. "We found Ketheric," you explain, offering the memory of your meeting to Gale through your tadpoles. He grimaces as you share the images of Ketheric pulling the axe from his chest. You withdraw your mind from his and continue to eat. "We've convinced them that we're True Souls, for now. We'll see where it takes us."

Gale begins to speak over his own meal, airing his many ideas to the party as the others gathered around the fire. But your thoughts drift, and you aren’t even lucid enough to feel guilty for ignoring him; all you can think of was how you know Ketheric was somehow involved in your previous life, that life you can't remember. Determination begins to burn deep in your chest; you must find out what this all means.

Before you can try to sort out your disordered thoughts, Karlach plops down beside you, the heat of her warming you on all sides as she digs into her stew.

"Hey," she says through a mouth full of food, "what's wrong with Fangs?"

You shrug, pulling apart your warm roll of bread. "How am I supposed to know?"

"'Cause you're all cozy with him, or whatever." She looks at you, her bright eyes keen and knowing. "Whatever happened today, you know what must be bothering him. Maybe you should go check on him."

You almost laugh. "He doesn't want to see me," you tell her.

She gives you a stern look before returning to her meal. "Just think about it, soldier," is all she says.

You all finish your meal and talk about your plan for the next day before retiring to your own tents for the night. You change out of your armor and clean it, rubbing off stubborn stains of goblin blood. You try to lose yourself to sleep, but it does not take you, with your many worries for the next day. And, even though you don't want to, you can't help but think about what Karlach said.

"Maybe you should go check on him."

So, unable to sleep, and unable to think of anything else to do, you leave your tent and make your way towards Astarion's.

You walk over, the chill of the night making you shiver. You almost hope to find the tent closed up for the night, to find him already trancing for the night, but the entrance is still tied open. You peek inside, expecting to find your companion reclined and reading a book by candle light; you try to prepare yourself for whatever sly flirtation he has for you.

Instead, you find the tent empty.

You frown; you know that Astarion hasn't been able to find suitable prey since you'd arrived in the cursed lands, so you can't imagine that he's out prowling. You stand there for a moment, at a loss and trying to decide whether or not to just go to bed. But you sigh, as whatever blackened heart inside you pushes you forward.

You, thanking your lucky stars that he wasn't trying to hide when he skulked away, follow Astarion's tracks down towards the river.

—

You find him propped up on his elbows across the river, staring out across the water. You don't bother to try and hide your footsteps; you simply cross the river, taking care not to lose your footing on the loose stones along the way.

"Come to collect your obstinate charge?" Astarion sneers without looking at you as you approach.

You sit beside him, tucking your knees against your chest. You try to keep your dirty shoes off his cloak that he spread out on the ground beneath him.

Those words are familiar enough; that dreadful Drow called him that to your face when she asked for him to bite her. "She really got to you, huh?" you ask, resting your cheek on one knee as you turn to look at him.

He's still in his armor from the day, and he'd found a bottle of wine somewhere in the crates surrounding Last Light on his journey over. It's something cheap, something you're sure he finds repulsive, even as he drinks. He stares across the river towards the inn, and he's silent for so long you resign yourself to the fact that he's ignoring you. Then, as you're deciding if you should just leave him to his thoughts, he shakes his head and says, "I can't get it out of my head. The way she leered at me."

You watch him, waiting for him to speak. He swirls the bottle of wine and takes a drink, then grimaces at the taste and lets the bottle hang loosely from his fingers. He doesn't look at you as he thinks.

Eventually, he sighs, the sound light and airy. "I was being too precious, wasn't I?" You can tell he's trying to convince himself, to talk himself back into some dark line of thinking he'd grown accustomed since being turned. "We could have used her potion. A moment of unpleasantry doesn't matter if there's a fine reward. I should have just gritted my teeth as always and let her have me for a bit."

You feel your heart sink at his words. "Astarion," you whisper, unsure of what to say next.

He barks out a laugh, a short, derisive sound. "Oh, darling, I don't need your pity." He throws the bottle of wine towards the water, and the glass shatters against the river bank. Wine starts to spill into the river, spreading like blood.

You shake your head, confused by how quickly his mood shifts. You struggle to keep up. "Astarion, I don't pity you," you tell him. You turn to face him properly, to take this conversation seriously. He still doesn't look at you. "But you have the right to say 'no.' You don't belong to anyone anymore."

At those words, he shifts his gaze from the waterline to finally examine you. His eyes are narrow, the expression behind them inscrutable. "You really believe that, don't you?" He laughs again, but he's not amused. His voice is bitter as he continues, "Yes, well, I must admit, a part of me feels sick when I think about getting on my back for breadcrumbs again." He tilts his head, suddenly curious. "But you, you could have convinced me to take the deal. To just push through and get the potion, and we would've all just moved along with our lives. Why didn't you?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Your voice is slightly incredulous. "You said 'no,' and that's your right. I'm not here to force you to do anything." You, now, laugh without mirth. You know enough about not having a say in what you do, with your strange visitors haunting your every move.

Astarion is still watching you. He has to admit to himself, he doesn't understand you one bit. No one in this life or his last ever showed him any ounce of kindness; even the gods couldn't be bothered to look his way. But here you are, some insignificant wanderer with gore for brains and a strong propensity towards gruesome violence, sitting beside him and telling him he had a choice. "But you could've," he pushes, and he suddenly reaches forward, dragging aside your neckline to reveal bruised teeth marks from where he'd last fed. You stiffen slightly, caught off guard by his quick movements. "What have I done to deserve any of your grace? I deceived you, tried to hunt you in the night, have taken everything I could from you with no promises to give any of it back."

"Astarion," you whisper, and for the first time, you think you are finally seeing him. "What makes you think you have to earn it?"

And that, finally, is what breaks him.

He rises up on his knees and takes your face in his hands, and there's a frenzy there, a desperation that makes you tense. You think he might shake you so hard your ruined brain will rattle around in your skull, and you watch the thought form behind his eyes. You realize that he could kill you here, right now, in any number of ways. He could slit your throat, drive a dagger beneath your ribs & pierce your heart, bleed you dry until you're nothing but a memory upon this land.

You realize this, and yet your body relaxes in his hands.

You trust him completely.

The look in his eyes is suddenly wild, confused, exasperated. Of all the prey he's ever hunted before, why did you have to be the one he showed the monster to? Anyone else would've run; you should've, too. Yet here you sit, on this riverbank beside him, looking into his blood-red eyes because he's led you right where he wanted you. Surely you aren't too stupid to see that.

Yet here you are, staring at him with those big, trusting eyes as he holds your life in his hands.

There must be something wrong with you, he decides then. Beyond the parasite in your head, and beyond the spells of very bloody memory loss; there is something fundamentally, elementally, seriously wrong with you. It's the only way he can explain to himself why you're still sitting here, prey in its predator's sight, unwavering & unafraid.

At that look in your eyes, that brave, corruptible expression, he leans closer. He says your name, and it's like the last prayer he'll ever speak. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, and he's almost begging.

You lean in, too, until the tip of your nose brushes the slope of his, and you breathe, "You."

And then he's kissing you, and you let out a small gasp, because you can't believe this beautiful elf has chosen you. He breathes you in, his hands still cupping your cheeks, and you thread your fingers into his silvery curls, beckoning him closer. One of his hands traces down your side, wrapping around your waist and holding you closer so you can feel the lines of him through your camp clothes. You gasp again, surprised by his unyielding grip, and his tongue slips between your parted lips, searching, exploring, tasting. You groan quietly, low in your throat, and his other hand traces from your cheek to your neck, fingers searching for the source of the sound. They find it, and they squeeze…

With his hand on your throat, feeling your pulse through the delicate skin, Astarion is nearly hypnotized.

He wishes that hunger deep in his belly would fade, would disappear and leave him to enjoy this, to lose himself in the moment like he hasn't in two hundred years. But it burns hot, and he can hear your heart beating strong in your chest, quickening as he moves against you, presses into you. It gnaws at him, spurned and getting harder to ignore, and you feel him bracing, beginning to pull away because he shouldn't do this to you— he can't—

You pull back from him, and he wonders how you could have possibly known his thoughts and braces for the impact of a stake in his heart—

Instead you tilt your chin and arch your back, and your hands in his hair lead him right to where he needs to be. His mouth brushes the pulse at your throat.

His vision flashes red; he can feel your blood thrumming against his lips, feel the seductive brush of each pulse against his mouth. He groans, and he wants to fight it, because gods he wishes things were different, but his lips part and his jaw opens, and he's biting into your throat.

A breath hisses from between your teeth at the sensation, at the ice traveling down your spine and chilling you to the bone. His mouth on you is unyielding as he cradles you in his hands, drinking you in in every way possible. Your eyes fall closed, and you begin to float, your thoughts becoming lighter than the clouds. You smile, because you can still feel him grasping at you, wanting you, needing you.

You trust him completely.

That hunger inside him pushes him to drink you dry, to tear your life from your hands until it burns in his chest instead. But he pries himself away from your throat, mouth dripping with scarlet and breath stuttering from between his lips. You can feel his chest heaving against you, can feel air fanning against your neck. You're still smiling.

"You," he gasps, easing you back down against the ground beneath you as he licks his teeth clean, "you ruin me." And then he kisses that smile on your mouth, and he's hovering over you, holding himself above you. It feels like a question.

When he pulls away, you open your eyes to see the stars painted over his shoulders. He looks predatory, like he's standing over the tattered remains of his latest hunt, but you see the softness in his expression, the vulnerability. He doesn't want to hurt you; he doesn't want this to be like all the other times, and he surely doesn't want this to be the first of its own terrible kind. He wants you, you realize. Not your blood, not your power, not your protection or your loyalty or your allegiance; he wants you.

You're ready to let him have you, if he'll take you.

"Astarion." You whisper his name, and he leans closer, his curls brushing your cheek. It tickles, and you giggle under your breath.

He tries not to stiffen at the sound. He forgets how soft you are sometimes, how gentle. It creates an air of innocence, though he watched you tear through goblins and cursed undead only hours before, and he knows without a doubt you can handle yourself. For a moment, he feels like the monster under the bed again.

But you touch his face, so very gently, and kiss him. Softly, sweetly, you call him back to you.

"I'm yours," you breathe, "if you'll have me."

And oh, it’s not even a question.

He’ll have you, he decides, pressing you back against the ground until rocks dig into your shoulders. He’ll take whatever you will give him, and when you’ve had enough, he will probably still be on his knees before you, begging for more.

Before that thought can scare him away, he trails his touch over your thin, casual clothes, grasping at the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. He pulls back to look at you, to admire you, but you — suddenly cold and bashful — wrap your arms over your chest.

You hide from him, and he’s suddenly confused.

He examines the nervous look in your eyes, the way you're flushed in embarrassment and trying to hide beneath him, and all the little puzzle pieces suddenly click into place. This is new to you, he realizes. Maybe not truly and entirely; maybe you were taken to bed in whatever life you had before, but you don't remember that now. For you, with your absent memories and shattered persona, this was your first time.

It's suddenly all too much for him, and he shrinks away from you, leaning back into his heels. He holds his face in his hands, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, because it's too familiar a sight, to pin down bright innocence beneath his hips and drag it into the darkness. He wants to run away, to curse you for ever asking him to come to your camp and join your little band of misfits.

For a moment, he wishes he never met you; at least he wouldn't have to question every action he takes.

You prop yourself up on your elbows as he recedes from you, and very slowly and gently take one of his hands in yours. He's shaking, just barely, but your throat seems to close with a flood of emotion.

"Astarion," you whisper, and you gently pry his hand away from his face. His eyes are shut tightly, his lips twisted in a grimace. You bring his hand towards your lips, and you leave a kiss on his palm, feather light. "Astarion," you say again, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Of course, you have to be the first person to say those words. The first person to encourage him to say no, when all he wants — for the first time in two hundred years — is to say yes.

For a moment, he’s bitter, and you can see the flash of frustration in his eyes when he finally opens them. But it’s gone in a moment, and he grins, flashing his teeth as he leans back in. “My dear,” he says, his silver tongue and honeyed words his only protection against the overwhelming confusion that’s threatening to settle over him, “I want this, trust me.”

He moves to catch your mouth with his, but you put your hand on his chest and stop him before he can. Your brows are creased, pulled together in concern.

The message is clear; you won’t let him use you to destroy himself.

His eyes flutter closed once more, and he breathes deeply, reminding himself where he is, who he is with. When he opens his eyes, they are gentle, softer than you’ve ever seen. You think, for a moment, maybe he has grown to trust you, too.

Slowly, without that same underlying malice, he leans in, close enough that his lips brush yours when he speaks. “I want this,” he repeats, his voice so quiet you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it. But then his mouth is on yours again, and he returns to his work removing your clothes.

His movements are slow, now, methodical. Like he’s trying to shake off decades of ghosts as he slides your pants down your thighs; maybe he is, you think. The fabric reaches your ankles, and you help him wriggle you free, and he tosses the clothing aside. Your underwear soon follow. Then, for one long, languorous moment, he looks at you, naked under the moonlight. Your mouth is red and sinful from kissing him, and the chilly breeze of the ever-present darkness raises goosebumps along your skin. Your nipples grow hard and pink, and you shiver. His gaze continues lower, to where you nervously squeeze your legs together in one last attempt at preserving your decency.

He wants to ruin you.

He brushes your thighs apart with one commanding swipe of his hand, and you shiver at the look in his eyes. Pupils blown wide with desire, he stares up at you through his lashes as he dips down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the valley between your breasts. He settles his body between your legs, and he veers to one side and licks a line towards one nipple, catching it between his lips. The wind cools his saliva until you’re shivering, and you’re not sure if it’s the cold or the pleasure as your head tilts back, your body arching against the ground.

Astarion suddenly sucks, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he pulls at your nipple. You gasp, and he relishes in the sound, watching you bare your throat to him. He gazes up at you, admiring the sight, as his hand slips between your thighs.

Suddenly, you gasp when fingertips stroke against your core, revealing your glistening slick. Astarion groans, the mound of your breast still in his mouth. “All this talk,” he teases, reaching up and grabbing your jaw in one hand. With the other, he rocks his touch back just slightly, barely brushing against your clit. “You should be the one telling me how much you want it, desperate little thing.”

Your face burns at his words and his casual tone, but you can’t even argue with him before he sweeps his tongue into your mouth. He licks your teeth, and at the same time he presses two fingers inside you, and you let out a broken moan against his lips. You can feel his wolfish smile as he pulls back before pumping back inside you.

You can feel how wet you are, can feel it dripping down the inside of your thighs. He moves slowly, though, allowing the gentle stretch of his fingers as he kisses you. His thumb draws lazy little circles over your clit, and he catches each of your moans with his mouth, learning exactly what you like with a few strokes of his expert hands.

Then, just as your breathing starts to hitch and break, he pulls away, taking his hand from the wet heat between your legs.

The sound you make almost comes out as a whine, and Astarion laughs, watching you flush deep crimson. “Someone needs to mind their manners,” he chastises playfully, and then he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

Your flush impossibly deepens, and you almost look away in embarrassment. But you can’t tear your eyes from the shameful scene, and you can tell that he knows how much it turns you on to see him like this. He grins again, and then he dips his head, disappearing between your thighs.

Before you can process his quick movements, you feel him lick molten heat up your core, and you throw your arms out to the sides, scrambling for purchase. You gasp his name, and you feel him chuckle more than you hear it.

”Yes, my dear?” he asks before running the flat of his tongue against your clit.

Your body stiffens, and your face lifts to the heavens. “Don’t stop,” is all you can muster.

And he doesn’t.

He eats you out until you’re shaking, falling apart under him. He presses his fingers back into you, three this time, and sucks on your clit while he strokes you from the inside. He stares up at you while he does it, watching you writhe in breathless, beautiful agony. One of your hands finds his hair, brushing through his curls with a touch that’s much too gentle for what you’re suffering at his hand.

You can feel your pleasure mounting, tightening like a coil deep in your belly while heat flames between your legs. Your moans are coming out in pants, now, barely intelligible noises that break against the riverbed. Your hand in his hair tightens, gripping for dear life and holding him there and pushing him away all in the same movement, and your back bows off the ground, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head as he pushes you higher and higher—

Then, like a band snapping, your orgasm rocks through you, and your vision goes black while your hips stutter and your core clenches and quivers.

Bliss washes over you, and you slowly come back to earth, and you find Astarion unbuckling his armor, nearly frantic in his movements.

”Astarion,” you croak, reaching for him.

He leans over you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. His hands tug feverishly at the buckles.

”Astarion,” you sound like you’re begging. “Astarion, please—“

He huffs playfully, still pushing off his leather armor one layer at a time. “What is it?” he asks, sparing one hand to stroke gently at your throat. “Do you need some attention? Aren’t you just obsessed—?”

”No,” you whine, finally rising up on your knees and reaching for his hands. “Let me— I want you to feel good.”

By now, his chest is bare, and he’s kicked off his boots. “Sweet thing, the thought of being inside you is driving me insane.” His leather pants slide down his thighs. “Do you want—?”

”Astarion,” you say again, your voice emphatic. You take his hand and bring it to your mouth, parting your lips against his fingers. “Please.”

Astarion freezes suddenly, staring at you with an expression of recognition. His eyes trail from yours down to your mouth, where his fingers sit. He can feel the heat of your breath, and he grows impossibly harder at the thought of what you’re asking.

It’s something he’s so rarely done since being turned. A pleasure he’s so rarely accepted.

Your lips brush his fingertips when you speak. “I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, and then you take two of his fingers in your mouth.

His stomach drops as he watches you, and his cock twitches at the sinful sight of your lips wrapped around his long pale fingers. You watch his pupils dilate, and his lips part slightly as you slide your tongue down, swirling gently. Your own desire pools in your belly, watching him watch you.

Please.

He nods, his breath starting to hitch slightly at the idea of filling that mouth. You smile, and you draw back until his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. Then you ease him back gently onto his elbows, picking up where he left off by dipping your fingers into the band of his underwear. You look up through your eyelashes, watching his chest heave up and down.

”Tell me to stop,” you say sternly, and he nods, understanding your meaning. So, having his confirmation, you continue.

You slide his last layer of clothing slowly down his strong thighs, watching every reaction your movements elicit. Watching for any sign of trepidation, of apprehension. But you only see desire, and one of his hands goes to your hair, knotting in your tresses. Encouraging you further.

You move your hands lower and lower, and your mouth begins to water as you follow the shaft of his cock. He’s gorgeous in every way, and when you finally reveal the pink head, glistening with precum, you have to hold yourself back from devouring him.

You tug his underwear the rest of the way off, and then you kneel in front of him, sure that whatever gods may be listening have placed him here in front of you.

You dip your head forward, wanting only to touch him with your mouth. With his hold on your hair, hopefully that would give him enough power to say no if it became too much. Tentatively, and watching for his reaction, your tongue slips out from between your lips and licks a gentle line along his shaft, giving you your first taste of him.

Astarion’s entire body stiffens at the sensation, and you do not move again, waiting for some sign that this was okay. After a moment, he tugs at your hair and very gently touches your cheek, and the look in his eyes is clear direction for you to continue.

You brush your lips against him, leaving gentle kisses, and then your tongue follows to the head of his dick, tasting his precum before swirling and bobbing deeper.

Astarion throws his head back, and he keens as you take him into your mouth. It’s a broken sound, but his hand in your hair pushes you deeper, and you obey. You drool when his hips cant forward, and you match his movements by swirling your tongue and pulling back before sliding all the way back down. He almost can’t believe the skill of your mouth, with how innocent you looked not five minutes ago, but then his thoughts scatter again when he hits the back of your throat.

He wants to press you down until you’re choking on him, wants to cum in your mouth and make a mess of you—

But he stops himself, pulls you back by your hair and kisses you, because he needs to fuck you.

He’s panting when he grabs you by the throat and lowers you onto your back. “Say it again,” he tells you, half delirious with the need to be inside you. “Say you’re mine.”

”I’m yours,” you respond immediately, eyes shining in the moonlight.

He groans your name, cupping his hands under your thighs. He wraps your legs around his waist, lining himself up at your entrance. Your cunt is still dripping for him, and he presses his fingers against your clit, watching you jump as he touches the swollen bundle of nerves. He laughs, a breathless sound, and then he places one hand beside your head, staring into your eyes as he slides inside you.

Thank you, he wants to say. Thank you for saving me.

But that’s much too vulnerable a thought to share, so he simply rocks his hips into yours, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure.

He’s perfect, you think as he slides back out of you before slamming back in, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. He’s perfect and he’s here and he’s yours, and you want to tell him so, but you can’t even speak, so you squeak out moans and scrabble at his chest as he fucks you.

He watches you quickly come undone beneath him, and when he decides he needs more, he lifts one of your legs and props it over his shoulder. The new angle lets him hit a target inside you that has you seeing stars, and you’re a drooling mess beneath him, eyes glazed over with pleasure. His fingers once again find your clit, and he rubs those practiced circles, just like before. He watches your chest heave, and your lips try to form his name, but he’s knocking the wind out of you with every thrust. You feel him inside you, on top of you, all around you, and you know that this is dangerous, that this is the sort of magic that will keep you coming to his tent every night.

And oh, how you both want to tear each other apart each night.

You feel your second orgasm building, so much faster than the first, and you gaze up into his eyes, watching him fuck you, and it quickly becomes too much.

“Astarion,” you finally gasp, your voice pitched so high it almost breaks, “pleasepleasepleaseplease—“

The sound of your voice threatens to send him over the edge, and his thrusts begin to turn wild, frantic. He shoves himself into you until you come apart, unraveling at the seams. Your cunt clenches over and over again, pulling him closer from the inside, and before he can pull out to empty himself on your stomach, you grab his shoulder and tilt your hips forward, begging him to stay there.

Begging him to cum inside you.

The thought shatters him, and he moans into the crook of your shoulder, thrusting erratically as he rides out his own orgasm. You feel his cock twitching inside you, and you hold him close as his thrusts slow, then stop.

As you hold him, you press gentle kisses to his face. His forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. His lips. He kisses you back, slowly, deeply. Then he pulls himself out of you, and you almost regret the sudden emptiness. But you can’t think about it for too long before he lowers himself to the ground beside you, and you follow him, still kissing every inch of him that you can reach.

”I’m yours,” you remind him. And even as you both start to clean up and head back to camp, he remembers those words.

He belonged to no one, but maybe one day, he wouldn’t mind belonging to you.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

Everybody at the party seems to know somebody (who’s not me) pt. 2

Continuation of Part 1

2919 words | Set before the events of s3 | Rating: G (maybe T&up) |

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The next time Steve runs into Brown Eyes he’s freezing in an itchy, too small pair of shorts.

 He hasn’t seen him in—well he doesn’t know how long because keeping time after inter-dimensional shit goes down for the second time gets pretty difficult for him, but he knows he hasn’t seen him in long enough to forget what shade of brown his eyes were or maybe it was just dark and he never really got that good of a look in the first place but that didn’t really matter because he thought he would never see him again, he was supposed to never see him again.

Steve’s parents came back for all of three days to lecture him about hospital bills, bills he only had because the kids couldn’t tell their parents about the Upside Down. They didn’t ask about the scar that ran down his left arm, they didn’t ask why he was wearing medically prescribed glasses to numb the headaches they didn’t know he got and they didn’t ask if he was okay. The conversation ended with his father telling him that if he wasn’t going to college then he had to get a job to pay back the bills.

So here he was, elbow deep in ice cream that dried in flakes on his skin and pulling at the hem of shorts that couldn’t be his own. Robin must’ve mixed them up again. Hers fell to her knees and she had to pull them up with a huff whenever she moved. 

“Hello and welcome to Scoops Aboy!” She chirped at the kid standing in line, only just able to hide the dead eyed stare she’d had on a second ago, “What flavor can I get for you today?”

The kid stared before pushing one sweaty finger against the glass at the chocolate bin. They were out of chocolate.

Steve sighed because he knew he would be the one who would have to get it from the back freezer when the kid threw a fit and he knew he would be the one who had to clean the glass back to shining.

Robin was desperately trying to sell any other flavor to the kid, “It looks like we’re all out of chocolate, big guy. How about some banana extravaganza?”

The kid shook his head, “Chocolate!” He shouted, voice squeaking. Steve rubbed his temples.

“Hey, dingus, do we have chocolate in the back?”

Steve trudged over to the freezer, bracing himself for the chill, and threw open the door. Carefully arranging the leg of the break room chair to wedge between the door because it got stuck when it shut and the inside handle was frozen over.

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. Exactly one tub of double chunk-o chip chocolate ice cream sat on the shelf. Frozen to the metal, because of course it was.

“Okay, you can do this, just go out there and…be ice cream.” Jesus Christ. Talking to ice cream, Steven, talking to yourself in a dingy freezer.

Steve shook his head, rubbing his eyes to dispel his father’s voice. Steve blew into his hands, rubbing them together so he didn’t get freezer burn for a week—because that was something that happened when the ice cream sat on the shelf for too long—and tugged the bucket down.

When he managed to pry the tub of ice cream off the shelf Robin had already convinced the kid to get another flavor. 

“Thank you so much, Steve,” He dropped the tub on the counter, rolling his eyes, “It means a lot that you go into the freezer with all your migraines and concussions for nothing.” Stop whining, Steven, Harrington’s aren’t babies.

Robin just stared at him, deadpan, and Steve scoffed, grabbing a scooper to replace the chocolate ice cream. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her or anything, she was just weird. That was mean, he wasn’t that guy anymore, he was better than some high school peaking idiot now. He should apologize. He should apologize for a lot lately and so far he can’t say any of it, maybe he’s not so different from the asshole who stood by while his friends—

Robin dropped her scooper and shrugged off her vest, tossing her hat onto the table in the back as she walked past it, heading for the door.

“Hey, wait, where are you going? You can’t just leave me here.” Steve called. 

“Lady problems, dingus.” She didn’t even have to look back for Steve to know she was smirking.

Can’t even take one shift alone, Harrington men are supposed to be independent, Steven. He could—he would be fine on his own, he could handle this, it was just a few kids in a line that got longer and longer and—he was fine.

“Hello and welcome to Scoops Ahoy, what can I get for you today?” He droned on, customer after customer. 

It was nearing the end of his shift when it happened. Steve was grumpy and the lithonia lighting really drills into your eyes, goosebumps dotted his arms and legs. 

He was seconds away from filling his hat with ice cream and throwing it over his eyes to combat the headache forming and to top it all off some kid had dumped their banana split down the front of his shirt because it was ‘too cold’. The scratchy material of this stupid sailor costume was sticking to his chest, sopping wet and catching on the scar on his shoulder as if he needed another reminder that it was there, as if it didn’t already throb every few days just to show him he’d never really be okay again and he wanted to cry—if he hadn’t been in public he would’ve been sobbing on the floor. Get yourself together, Steven, you’re a working man not a pathetic little girl.

The bell rang again and he gave himself a second to prepare before lifting his head and facing the customer.

“Hello and welcome to Scoops Ahoy, how may I help you on this fine—” Steve looked up, breath catching when he saw a familiar face, hazel—they were hazel, “—day.”

“Uh…” Brown Eyes’ eyes darted around, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey.” Steve said, sounding more breathless than he felt but that was stupid, stupid, stupid, fucking hey, “I…uh, I wasn’t expecting—” to ever see you again, to ever think about that night again but that’s lie because it’s all I can ever think about. Because Steve had told himself to forget about it, give up on whatever had happened and live a normal life but now—

“Look, man, I didn’t even know you worked here,” Brown Eyes was putting his wallet away, “if I had then I never would’ve come here, I swear.”

“You wouldn’t?” He hadn’t meant to sound so pathetic. Pull yourself together, Steven, have we taught you nothing. Pathetic pathetic pathetic.

Brown Eyes’ eyebrows crinkled, “No?” But he sounded confused which Steve couldn’t blame him for. 

He’d been confused a lot since that night. Confused about why he let the gap close, why he pushed forward—why he liked it because that’s not something that happens to him. He liked girls, just like every other guy in this godforsaken town who liked girls, he had to because he and Tommy kissed once in fifth grade on a Saturday night after baseball practice just to see if it would feel different and Tommy had pushed him away gagging. Tommy had told him that his dad was right and boys shouldn’t kiss boys because it was gross so Steve didn’t think about why it didn’t feel different and they never talked about it again. Hadn’t thought about it again, until he was ducking under arms and following strangers to get away from Tommy years later at a party he wished would end and maybe it wasn’t as gross as he told himself it was. Maybe—maybe he—

Steve heard the back door open and slam closed and took his chance, “I’m taking my break, Robin!” He yelled as he grabbed Brown Eyes’ wrist over the counter and pulled him around it, walking them both to the freezer and passing an exasperated Robin.

“You already took a break, Dingus, you can’t just decide to take another!”

But he didn’t stop and she just rolled her eyes.

Brown Eyes was glancing around frantically, “Listen I’m sorry! I’ll leave you alone, dude, I get it! You didn’t mean to kiss me, I stupidly thought that was what was happening. It won’t happen again, I swear, man!”

The freezer lights were blinding and the faint buzz was more grating than usual. If Steve were thinking about it he would’ve known he was dizzier than he should have been. If he had been thinking about it he would have picked up on the beginnings of a migraine worming its way in. 

He wasn’t thinking about it, unfortunately, because Brown Eyes was still rambling and he was really cute when he was nervous but Steve wished he wouldn’t. Because Steve’s been doing some thinking since that night, thinking about why it didn’t feel so gross when Tommy kissed him, thinking about why he felt like he’d been strung up and gutted when Brown Eyes took off. He’s been doing some thinking and he’s pretty damn glad he did it before he had to face Brown Eyes again.

The second time they kissed was no more coordinated than the first—probably less so because Brown Eyes was mid apology and Steve flinched when the freezer door slammed shut—

Shit.

Brown Eyes hadn’t moved. He just stood there, mouth hanging open—well opening and closing and then opening again like he didn’t know what to do with it—eyes wide and confused. Because—because Steve kissed him, what the fuck was he thinking? Harringtons aren’t fucking queer Steven. And they weren’t, they weren’t. 

What would your father say? And for the first time since he’s ever really thought about it it was his mother’s voice.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered, backing against the cold metal shelf, “I’m sorry.” He muttered again because he didn’t know what else there was to say.

Maybe it was the plummeting feeling in his stomach that did it. The swooping and the dull thud of his heart against his ribs—he didn’t know. But he was doubling over so fast his already throbbing head spun, falling on shaking knees, not fast enough to swallow the bile before he was emptying whatever was left of his stomach into an empty tub of ice cream.

There was a panicked squeak behind him, “Uh, are you—should I—“ and then he was crouching down beside him, “I didn’t realize I was that bad of a kisser, Jesus, Harrington.”

 And Steve couldn’t help the snort that fell out of him even though it made his nose burn and his eyes water.

Brown Eyes hadn’t stopped fidgeting, “Sorry, sorry, that was stupid—I don’t know why I said that, just nobody’s ever thrown up around me and I don’t really know what to do. I guess rambling’s not the most comforting thing in the world and I can’t stop talking. Do you—should I get—I should go get napkins, probably, right? I’ll do that, yeah, just…wait here—”

But Steve reached out, stopping him with a hand on his wrist because he’d been so caught up in his own head that he forgot to stop the door and maybe he should have felt embarrassed for wiping his mouth on that stupid hat but, “Can’t go anywhere, man. Door’s stuck.” He breathed.

“Shit.” Brown Eyes swore.

“Yeah.” Steve sat up, wincing at the bucket and pushing it away, “‘’Sides, I can handle myself.”

“Right, no, obviously—“ Brown Eyes kept spinning a ring around his finger, tapping a pattern on his knuckles, “Has that—does that happen a lot?”

Steve huffed, leaning his head back against the metal shelf and closing his eyes as the sharp pain spiked behind his eyes, “Migraines. Happens if I ignore them.”

Brown Eyes slid down the shelf, he had a chain link hanging from his belt and it clacked steadily down. He opened his mouth again, barely took a breath before he was closing it and then seemed to shake off whatever nervous energy clung to him.

“Why’d—uh, why’d you ignore it?” He asked, and then, “Oh. Shit, man, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Dude,” Steve let his head tip, ear stinging where it pressed into the cold metal of the storage shelf, to look at Brown Eyes, “It’s not your fault, not like you knew about it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right— obviously. No way I could’ve known, I mean it’s not like we know each other.” He was still moving. An almost jumpy motion to the way he spun his rings, pulled his hair in front of his face, tapped his foot against the tile floor over and over, “I mean we do—or I do. Figure you’ve heard rumors but never put a face to the name, huh, Harrington?”

And Steve caught the almost hopeful way Brown Eyes said his name, the hopeful but shame-filled and god if he didn’t know about shame. The longing that curled bittersweet in his stomach every time he was reminded of a life he could never be brave enough to take for his own. The overwhelmingly dreadful certainty that he would only ever live to settle down, to buy a house and start a family and die a peaceful death beside some woman he liked well enough because technically it wasn’t out of the picture for him. 

Because maybe all this thinking he’s been doing has opened his eyes to the parts of him he was suppressing but it didn’t make the other parts, the parts that wanted a family and small little porch that overlooked a garden that won best in show at the neighborhood fair, just disappear. And he knew the path his life would take him down and he accepted it because he was scared, a fucking coward. Fought fucking demons and you’re still afraid, Steven, always afraid. So he ignored it, the hope. For now.

“’S not like you ever told me yours.” Steve hadn’t meant to sound so pissy about it, he wasn’t owed the guy’s name just because they kissed. Never be anything better than a high school bully, Steven, we raised you better than this—

But then Brown Eyes grinned, snorting a little in surprise. Leaned in fast, close enough Steve could feel their breath mix between them and just looked at him like maybe he was going to finally tell him. Or kiss him again. And honestly Steve would welcome either option.

“Maybe I like the mystery.” Brown Eyes was enjoying this entirely too much.

Steve was about to respond, shoot back some snarky reply because that was okay to do now, it would be reciprocated, when he heard the yelling.

“Hey, dingus! Your children are here!” Robin. She pounded on the door, “Jesus, d’you seriously get stuck again?”

Steve sucked in a breath, ignored the sharp pain that speared through his head as he scrambled off the floor. He caught Brown Eyes’ eye, the resignation in them, and only had a second to feel guilty about what must’ve looked like the embarrassment of being caught together. Only had a second to reach out, thought maybe he could grab his hands—it’s not you, it’s not you, it’s the fear, it’s always the fear and I can’t do a damn thing about it. But that sounded far too much like a break up to say to somebody you’ve only kissed twice. Somebody whose name you don’t even know. It’s not you, it’s me, because I don’t even know you but if I did it’d still be me.

The door swung open, Robin keeping it from closing on them with her foot, “What the hell are you doing in here, dude?” She asked, “We’ve got customers. Your tiny friends.” 

“Right. I’ll—uh,” Steve glanced back at Brown Eyes, helpless to say anything as he pushed himself up and made for the door.

“Thanks for the tour, man but I should really get going.” No, no, wait, not now please wait, Brown Eyes tipped his head at Robin in a little curtsy as he read her name tag and it would’ve been endearing if Steve’s heart wasn’t pounding in his ears, crawling up his lungs and choking him, “All the gratitude for freeing us, lady Robin. See you around, Harrington.” 

Except you won’t, Steve wanted to call out, I graduated, I don’t know your name, stay stay stay—

“Steve.” Robin clapped her hands, “Small children. Waiting for you at the counter.”

When Steve looked back at the door Brown Eyes was gone.

“I got that, thanks.” He muttered.

If he gave Mike a little less ice cream in his free sample when the kid told him he was ‘watching the door wistfully’ he didn’t notice. And if he blamed his sour mood on his headache then it wasn’t technically a lie.

And if anyone noticed anything about it, they didn’t comment.

When Steve got home he hung his jacket up in his closet, bumped the door with his hip by accident and sucked in a breath when he saw the shoes. The ones Brown Eyes left at the party. The ones he’d kept, stupidly telling himself he would return them if he ever got the chance only he’d had the chance and he hadn’t said anything about them. 

Now he never would have the chance.

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

Part 3?

Fun Fact: I got so much second hand embarrassment from writing Steve throwing up that I had to stop writing for 2 days

PERMANENT tag list (open):

@yesdangerpls, @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse, @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin, @tinyplanet95, @gatorguy777, @grtwdsmwhr

[inhurtandincomfort]

A Night to Regret

CW: Kidnapping, abusive relationship

Part 2 / masterlist

“Hey babe,” Kieran answered his phone with a grin, “Yeah, I’m on my way back now. Guess what? I’ve got a job!” 

“Really? That’s amazing!” He pulled it back from his ear as Abigail squealed, “What is it?” 

“It’s a short film, an original horror I think. I don’t know all the details, Kate said she’d email them to me first thing Monday. It’s a student film, but they’ve done quite a few popular ones.” 

“You know what this means? Celebration! We should invite Mike and Lisa, I’ll see if Cameron’s free too, and Jaysen, though I think he’s busy…”

Kieran laughed softly, “Is that really necessary? I was thinking we could just have a quiet night in, just the two of us.”  

“We do that all the time! Come on, we haven’t had a get together in ages. It’ll be fun. We’ll order pizza, and if you pick up some drinks on your way home… ooh, make sure you get some of that beer I like.”  “Since when did this become about you?” 

“I’ll pay for everything!” 

He smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “I got it, don’t worry. You order some pizzas, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” 

“Love you!”

Kieran slid his phone into his pocket, making a u-turn to head towards their favoured liquor store. He shivered, hugging himself as he walked down the quiet street. Strange, to be so quiet on a Saturday evening; it was freezing, he reasoned. It wasn’t that late, but the sun set early this time of year and a starless sky made the frigid air seem bleak. Still, deserted streets always held an eerie feeling. Though they weren’t completely empty, he only saw an occasional passerby in thick coats, scarves weaved around their faces. Man, he should have brought a scarf; his lips were probably turning blue. 

A small, childish part of him wished he had stayed talking with Abigail. Past every alley, every covered stranger, a chill crept up his spine that had nothing to do with the weather. He considered calling her back. She was probably calling their friends though. You’re worrying over nothing, he scolded himself. He was a grown-ass man, he could handle walking down a street himself, the same route he’d taken many times before. Alone. In the dark. 

Abigail kept telling him he should ask his doctor about anxiety meds. Maybe she was right. 

He was relieved when he made it to the store, offering him a brief respite. There was only one other customer who seemed to be studying two bottles intently. Kieran made his purchase, making easy small talk with the grizzled cashier trying to ignore his stomach twisting in knots.

He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get warm, an awkward motion carrying bags of glass bottles. He hummed to himself as he walked, a cheesy romance he hoped would stave off anxious thoughts. He glanced behind. A couple of men were trailing at a steady pace, scarves concealing their faces. He turned back to face forward, his pace quickening just slightly. People are allowed to walk behind you, Kieran. He told himself firmly. Learning to face your fears is an important part of recovery. Don’t let anxiety control you. 

…But he’d also been taught to follow his instincts. What was he supposed to do when every gut feeling told him to run? 

He considered stopping to let them pass. Would that just make him seem suspicious? It would probably be weird. Home wasn’t far, he’d be there soon. A black car with tinted windows was parked up ahead. Had it ever been there before? He shook his head. Paranoid. He’s just paranoid. Lukas had always said so. It was hardly an unusual car, it’s no surprise he’d never noticed it. And people were allowed to visit.

Still, as he got closer his shoulders hunched, blood rushing in his ears. His stomach cramped, tightening painfully as every signal in his body rang wrong, wrong, wrong. Something was wrong. He halted in his tracks, willing himself to move, his body frozen as his mind raced, every alarm bell screaming go back, go back, danger danger dangerdanger-

A heavy weight slung around his shoulders drawing him in. He opened his mouth to yell, a gloved hand silencing him. Something hard pressed into his back, small and rounded and fuck, this wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening-

“Don’t make a sound,” A gruff voice whispered, a voice that didn’t sound natural. They were trying to disguise it. “Come with us quietly, and there won’t be any problems.” 

Kieran nodded numbly, his heart hammering against his chest. With a small nudge from whoever stood behind, with a gun did they have a gun please say that’s not a gun he was bundled into the black car where someone was already waiting to drive away. Two men sat either side of him, blocking every exit.

“Head down,” One commanded, shoving his head to his knees before he even had a chance to do so himself. His shopping bag was placed by their feet. They’d probably take the drinks for themselves. They took his phone too, along with his wallet leaving him with no form of identification. 

“Who are you?” Kieran dared to ask, his voice trembling. “Where are we going?”

“Shut up.” 

They were going to kill him. Oh god, he was going to be murdered, his body thrown in a woods somewhere or a lake or burned and oh god. Would they ever find him? Would his mother get to bury him? What about Abi, would she blame herself? How long would it take her to grow concerned? Was she already pacing around anxiously, wringing her hands, waiting for him to come home?

When they were out of city limits, they pushed him to the floor, wrapping cloth around his eyes, binding his wrists and ankles with duct tape which they also placed over his mouth. They must have driven for miles. He was transferred to another vehicle at some point, open conversations taking place in a language he couldn’t understand. Occasionally they’d rip the tape off to pour water down his throat. He fell asleep at one point, he thought. It was all a haze, fuzzy memories leaving him unable to distinguish what’s real and what is fake. 

Next thing he knew he was being roughly dragged outside, mud staining his clothes as  he was thrown to the floor. 

“Good to see you again, Angel.” 

Kieran stilled, every hair on his neck stood on end, his heart leapt to his throat. He thought it might just stop. 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Lukas jeered, his honeyed voice washed over Kieran like acid. The blindfold was yanked off his face, letting him look up to a man he wished he’d forgotten. 

Calloused fingers cupped his cheek tenderly, bronze eyes filled with such gentle warmth met his own. He used to melt under that same gaze, putty in his hands. He would have done anything to please him, debased himself in so many ways just to see those soft eyes look at him once more. 

Now they just filled him with fear. 

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it Angel? Were you afraid you wouldn't see me again? I was beside myself. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing your face, haunting me like an enthralling ghost. I didn’t know what to do, I was so lost without you.” Lukas grabbed Kierans face in both hands, leaning in so close their noses almost touched, staring deep into his eyes in a way that made his skin crawl. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be some horrible nightmare, he was gone, he got out, he fled across half the country just to be safe and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell, wanted to kick and scratch and do anything that would get him out of here, anything to never be trapped with this monster again. 

But his limbs were bound, his mouth stuffed full of cloth. Even if they weren’t, he wasn’t sure he was capable of it. He’d never fought back then. He hadn’t changed at all, not really. He was still the same meek figure he’d been back then. 

“You should never have left me Angel,” Lukas breathed, his breath hot on his face. “You’ll never leave me again.”

If you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it really helps the reach and lets others enjoy it too!

Being kidnapped by your abusive ex is bad enough - even worse is Lukas needs to make money. How will he do that? Hurting his Angel on camera, of course <3

[idontplaytrack]

I’m not clingy

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, fluff

It’s reader’s birthday. Regina, Janis and Cady pull out all the stops

Read other parts to the series here

“We have been talking about this party for two weeks. How is it that we have no theme yet? It’s already February 15. We have exactly seven days till y/n’s birthday.” Regina groans out of frustration, throwing her head back on the headrest.

“You need to chill.” Janis laughs.

“Easy for you to say.” Regina teased, “She loves everything you do.”

“And what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Cady squinted at them both. “Guys—”

“How was your Valentine’s Day?” Regina asked with a smirk.

“Since you asked, fucking great.” Janis shrugged, a playful smile plastered on her face.

“This is why you had to soundproof your garage—”

“Will you guys stop that? y/n will be back any minute.” Cady smacked Regina on the arm and shot Janis a glare. “Should I just plan this party alone and let you two get back to talking about your sex lives? Preferably with me out of the room?”

“Sorry, you’re right. We should focus.” Regina leaned forward to grab her laptop, the screen was left on a Google document with barely anything in it.

“So…” Cady began, “Maybe we could settle on a colour at least? She likes what, blue? Baby blue?”

“And olive green.” Janis quips.

“Right, so we could definitely work off of that, get decorations and party supplies in either of those colours.” Cady continues, “As for a theme, how about we don’t have one? Just think about what she likes and have little touches of them all over the place that goes with the colour scheme?”

“Great idea.” Regina agrees.

“Hey, guys.” You walked in, placing your keys in the little bowl on the credenza.

“Hi.” Cady and Regina greet you almost in unison, their focus entirely on your sister’s laptop screen.

“Hey, honey.” Janis smiled, gesturing for you to go over. You do so, kissing her first, “Hi.” You sit down on the armrest of the armchair, Janis squints at you and pulls you into her lap. Regina jokingly rolled her eyes at the gesture.

You knew she’d make a joke, it’s gotten to the point where if she didn’t, it seemed weird.

“You know…” Janis says while squeezing your thigh, “We might have to soundproof the bedroom.”

Air gets caught in your throat at your cheeks go red— that could only mean one thing.

“Stooop.” You groan, looking away from the group of them.

“Not what I’ve been hearing a lot lately, but alright.” Regina teased with a smirk.

Janis snickers, “I’ve been hearing the opposite a lot these days.”

“Fine!” You say while hiding your face in her shoulder, “Soundproof it for all I care. I already tried to keep it down, alright? It’s not like we can’t hear y’all too, you know?”

Cady awkwardly cleared her throat, “Anyway. How was your day?”

“Was going great until y’all had to make me embarrassed about a normal thing.” You sigh dramatically. Janis rubs your back, “We love you.”

“That I know.” You smiled.

Regina quickly snapped her laptop shut, then turned the TV on. You squinted at her for how loud the noise was but shrugged it off once the remote control was handed to you. “You pick what we watch tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, baby.” Regina chuckles, “Whatever you want, but we all know what we’re gonna be watching.”

“So, then you still decided to ask me, why?”

Regina laughs lightly, “Because I wanna do that for fun? It’s fun.”

Cady chuckles, you just went ahead and picked whatever you wanted to watch, not intending to stay in the living room for too long anyway.

“How are you gonna see the TV hugging her like that?” Regina teased.

“I can see it just fine, thank you for asking.” You bit back a laugh. Janis had shifted in the seat so you could see the TV clearly while you literally hugged her like a koala bear. A little too affectionate to do so in this setting, but you could not care less at this point of day. You were getting sleepy and cranky, and just didn’t want to talk much. But, Regina was truly making it hard for you.

“Baby, you are so gay.”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” You poked fun at her right back. “Can you look at her and tell me she’s not attractive?”

“Oh hella attractive.” Janis snorted, laughing, then rubbed your lower back and soothingly. “We need to go back to New York again, don’t we? See if we can run into them filming the show.”

“Oh please let me be there when you finally run into Mariska because I would love to see how that goes down.” Regina continues.

“Tsk.” You tutted, growingly annoyed as you snuggled closer to Janis and kept your eyes peeled on the TV screen.

Janis grabs a decorative cushion and tossed it in Regina’s direction, Cady bursts out laughing. “I told you, you gotta stop making fun of her for things like that right now.” Cady said through the laughter, “She’s clearly tired and you’re making her all worked up.”

“Oh look who’s all motherly all of a sudden.” Regina switched her targets, you let out a little chuckle at that.

“Maybe a nap would be better for you.” Janis says, looking at you briefly.

“Can I just finish this episode?”

“Are you just saying that because you want to fall asleep on me?” Janis grinned cheekily.

“Maybe.” You hummed.

Eventually, you did finish watching one episode of the show like you said you would. “I’m gonna crash.” You muttered, climbing off of Janis. Well, you tried, but she didn’t want to let you go. “Jan.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“What? You’re comfy, no?” She asks, batting her eyes.

“I am, but I wanna lie down for a bit.” You admitted.

She lets you go after kissing you on the cheek, “You want me to come with?”

“It’s okay, you can don’t have to if you wanna watch TV.”

“Okay, baby.”

You gave her a kiss on the cheek in return and retreated to your shared bedroom.

————

You woke up later that night to the smell of dinner— pasta, to be specific. You went to the bathroom then headed outside to see three of them laying the table. “Hope you had a nice nap.” Regina notices you were awake.

“It was pretty good.” You shrug, walking into the kitchen.

“Hi, honey.” Janis pulled you closer to herself, smooching you on the cheek.

You grinned, “Hi.”

“Let’s eat.” Regina hums, shrugging her shoulders. “We’re still not done with the planning.”

You glared at your sister. “I told you—”

“I told you, it’s your 16th. We’re definitely gonna do something.” Regina interjected.

“Keep the spending to a minimum.” You insisted.

“Fineeee.” Regina groans, they laugh. You, still being a little groggy from your nap only quietly ate your food while the three of them chattered away. Eventually, you were in the living area watching TV while they remained in the kitchen to plan whatever it was. It didn’t matter to you, whether or not you had a party. A birthday was just another day to you.

Your focus on the TV show gets disrupted when you hear Regina’s phone ring.

“Hello?”

She listens to the other person talk. Her face fell, contorting into one of confusion and shock.

“What? No, no, wait— you’re selling the house. Mom you can’t just say that and hang up! Don’t you think your should’ve discussed that with me? Or y/n?” Regina shrieked, you jumped, slightly startled. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“Just let her sell the house. It’s empty now anyway, most of our things are here already.” You told her flatly.

Regina quirked a brow, not expecting this indifference from you. About your childhood home. But she didn’t press you about it, thinking it was due to your tiredness. Janis and Cady were also looking at you for a second, you could feel their gazes burning holes into your head but you didn’t look back.

You hear Janis say something to them, but you couldn’t hear what. Seconds later, she was right next to you, asking if you wanted to cuddle. “I’m okay.” You told her, confused.

“I know.” She shrugs. “But don’t you want to lay on me?”

You squinted at her incredulously, “are you trying to tell me that I’m clingy?”

“Baby, I did not say that.” She bites back a laugh, brushing the hair out of your face.

“But yes, I want to lay on you.” You continued.

“Clingy.” Regina teased.

“Shut up.” You snapped back. Cady nearly snorted laughing.

“No.” Regina smiled smugly, batting her eyes at you.

“I’m not clingy.” You added on while Janis easily put you on her lap.

“Yeah, so you’re just trying to cop a feel?” Regina joked.

You gasped, “Oh, disgusting.”

“I wouldn’t mind though.” Janis snickered.

“Hey.” Your eyes went wide, and Janis was just more amused by all this.

“Okay, we’re done planning. Tomorrow after school, you’re on your own baby. We’re going out to grab the stuff we need.” Regina announced.

“That’s fine.” You shrug, refocusing on your rewatch of Full House. It has become one of those shows where you just put on for the sake of some background noise because you already knew the story so well. That didn’t mean it was no longer a good watch.

You watched a handful of episodes to pass time, then was back to bed, this time with Janis. “Brush your teeth.” She chuckles over her words.

You sulked playfully.

“Baby.” She was holding onto your toothbrush, and you were anticipating that she would toss it to you just to get you moving. It worked, wasn’t the first time after all. “Good girl.”

You damn near choked on air hearing her say that, narrowing your eyes at her. She only smiles back.

At 3pm the next day, school let out and as planned, you were making your own way home. Well, that’s what you thought. Your Mom pulled up in front of you out of nowhere, scaring you. “Get in.”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you, please?”

You thought about it for a second, nodded and opened the front passenger door then got in. “It’s about the house. Would you want to go back and take a look?”

“Rather not.” You replied quickly.

“Are you okay with me selling it?” She asked.

“Yes.” You told her simply, still staring out the window.

“Why?” Your mom asks, “In all seriousness, I want to know.”

“Well…” You began, “Uh, a lot of the bad stuff with Dad happened at the house and it honestly triggers a lot of negative emotions and thoughts. So doing without it would be best, for me.”

“I hear you.” She nods, continuing to drive, “Have you had lunch at all?”

“Why?” You spoke without much thought, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Because we need to eat. I know you’re not particularly fond of school food, but you can’t go hungry.”

You were quiet for bit before mumbling, “Okay.”

“Let’s go grab a bite, alright?”

Burgers and fries. That’s what you both got for lunch. The place was rather quiet, which wasn’t anything unusual. Not many came by here on weekdays since it wasn’t in a very convenient location. You knew she only took you here because you and Regina loved this place back then. And surprise, the place hadn’t been updated in years so you were hit with nostalgia almost instantly.

“How are things?” June asked hesitantly. You haven’t exactly been the nicest person towards her after all that took place.

“Better.” You swallowed thickly.

June nods, “That’s really good to know. I’m working through some things myself and I want you to know that I’m trying my best to be better.”

“I can tell.” You admitted, “You wouldn’t have taken me out to eat if it was a few months ago.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Just so you know, he eventually admitted to me what he did.”

“It wasn’t to me.” You stopped chewing your food for a moment.

“I know that now, but he still said things that made you uncomfortable and unsafe in your own home. That was fucked up, and I’m so sorry, baby—”

Your phone rang, interrupting her.

“Need to take this, excuse me.” You pick up your phone from the table and tapped the answer button.

“Jan, hey.”

“Are you home yet?”

“Not yet, no.” You told her, “Um, mom picked me up. We’re getting lunch.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t too shocked by that, “All good? Do you need any of us to—”

“All good, I’ll see you guys later.” You answered.

“Great.” She smiled, “See you, honey.”

You did have one question you have been dying to ask her. Though a little scared, you still decided that now would be the best time to ask.

“Would you want to come to my birthday party?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

————

Cady and Regina were practically dying of laughter after seeing Janis’ post on Instagram. It was rare sight— especially from Regina.

“You want the place to yourselves tonight or no?” Regina asks.

“Shh!” You exclaimed, “Hi, Mom.”

The entire gang stopped chatting and just turned around to look at the said guest. “Hi, y/n.” She walked up to you and gave you a hug. Regina almost passed out witnessing that. Look, she knew that June was coming here but she wouldn’t have expected this hug. Frankly, neither were you.

After a couple of minutes, the buzz settled down. The party went on without a hitch, until after the meal when June was taken aside by Regina to talk. You shared a worried look with Janis, “Everything is fine, I promise you. She just wants to talk about the house.”

“Okay.” You said, putting down your plate that still had some cake left.

Janis puts her arm around you to comfort you, planting a kiss to your cheek, “Breathe, baby. They’re fine.”

“I know now, I just haven’t been around to see that spending time alone together.” You revealed, resting your head on her shoulder. “Okay, maybe Regina’s right. I am clingy.”

Janis giggles, “Cling onto me all you want. Even if you do it at school, I’m all for it, honey.”

“Don’t tempt me.” You joked.

“Is it working?” Janis gasps dramatically.

“…yes.” You sigh quietly.

“Clingy.” Regina walked by at that exact second, squeezing your shoulder and making you yelp.

“I love it.” Janis retorted.

“Of course you do.” Damian mocked.

“Shut it, Damian.” Janis snarked, “I know you and Avery are inseparable too.”

You chortled, hiding your face in Janis’ neck before either of them caught it.

“Alrighty then. Can’t argue with that.” Damian sat down next to Janis, “Happy birthday, y/n.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Took me longer than I’d like to finish this part…🥴

[miniscule-meow]

Charlie and Felix: Phone Calls

Masterpost Wordcount: ~2k Warnings: lots of swears? First Part | Last Part | Next Part

---

Sitting in her dorm room, she sighs, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. She is supposed to be focusing on her biology homework, but she keeps replaying her conversation with Felix in her head. So, he transferred from Rosehill University. That’s, like, The number one Supers college. Her brothers all go there. Or, went there. Her two oldest brothers, Elias, and Asher, have both already graduated. Mars is a senior now, and Jeremey, her twin, is a junior. Considering Felix is a junior as well, Jeremy and Mars might have had some classes with him. She pulls out her phone and texts Jeremy.

“Hey. Do you know Felix Westwell?”

“Ya. That guy is a jerk.”

Her brother’s response comes. Shortly after, her phone buzzes again, he adds,

“He got like, expelled lmao”

She replies,

“Nah, he just transferred to Bayshear.”

“??? WTF! Dude that’s crazy. Stay away from him. He’s bad news Frfr”

“We have a class together. He seems… nice enough.”

After that message, she immediately gets a phone call.

“Hello—” she starts to answer, but she’s immediately cut off.

“Char, I am so serious. You do not want to mess with that guy,” Jeremy’s loud voice announces as soon as she picks up the phone.

“Okay. Uh, cool. I just wanted to see if you knew him. I’ve had like, a couple of run-ins with him and he—”

“What kind of ‘run-ins’? What does that mean?” He cuts her off again, she rolls her eyes.

“I mean, we have a class together. We did a group project, calm down. Aside from that we’ve had like, one conversation,” she can already tell that she does not want to tell him out about her conversation with Felix yesterday. “He mentioned he transferred from Rosehill. I didn’t ask him about you though, he didn’t really want to talk about school.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Jeremy barks a laugh, “He got his ass expelled.”

“So, you weren’t like friends or anything then," she states.

“Friends,” Jeremy scoffs, “Yeah, for a while until he decided to go off the fucking deep end. Did you know he put Mars in the school infirmary for a month? He never apologized for that."

“Wait- that was because of him?” she asks, her heart sinking. She remembers that happening. It was late last year. Mars ended up being fine, thanks to the healers, but it was a really scary time. Apparently, that’s just sort of the nature of the school. When you’re strong enough, it’s common that other students will try to challenge that.

“Yeah man, he’s fuckin’ volatile.” Jeremy confirms.

Involuntarily, her heart begins pounding. Her mind drifts back to yesterday. Felix’s ability is no joke, she can definitely see that. But it’s crazy to think that the hands that held her yesterday were the same ones that nearly crushed her brother. Not that Felix was particularly gentle with her, not that she’s surprised he’s capable of it. It’s just that she didn’t truly consider how much danger she was in, until now.

“I guess. He definitely seems to have a short temper," she muses.

“To say the least,” Jeremy says with a huff, “It’s starting to sound like you’ve maybe had more than just a couple run-ins, Char. Spill it.”

“You’re going to freak out," she winces.

“I mean, now that you've said that, yeah, I want to freak out. The more you keep stalling, the worse I'm imagining.”

“Promise me that you’ll be chill," she asserts.

“Char,” he sighs.

“Promise!”

“Fine, whatever. I promise I’m going to be so chill about whatever horrible thing you’re about to tell me," she can hear the eye-roll in his voice.

“Okay so like, he was getting picked on for being a super—”

“Which he deserves,” Jeremey interrupts immediately, she should have put money on that happening. “He like, embodies all the reasons mundanes hate supers.”

“Germ, it was like, really problematic, okay? And besides, the guys messing with him didn’t know he was a super for sure. Anyway,” she begins, before her brother can cut her off again. “He ran off into the woods and I sort of followed him.”

“Charlotte,” he sounds disappointed, “you can’t just follow people into the woods.”

“I want to point out that I didn’t know he was a super at this point.”

“Uh, that’s,” he cuts himself off with an incredulous noise. “That’s so beside the point? Super or not, you shouldn’t just follow people into the woods, period.”

“So anyway,” she says, getting them back on track, “I wanted to check on him, and he showed me his ability. We talked for a while, it wasn’t a big deal," she tried to gloss over her explanation of the events.

“Wait, wait, wait. Run that by me again. He showed you his ability?” He asks, she can already hear the freakout that’s about to happen.

“You said you’d be cool about it!” She reminds him.

“I—” He takes an audibly deep breath, “by ‘showed you his ability’ do you mean that he used it against you?” His voice has a faux sense of calm to it.

“I don’t know that I would describe it like that.”

“Did he touch you, yes or no?” He asks, his voice trembling with a rage she can hear even through the phone.

“It’s not a big deal, Germ," she says, trying to smooth this over.

“Yes or no, Charlotte I’m being so for real right now.”

“Alright, so like only a little bit," she admits, "but I'm really fine. I’m really super fine, I promise—”

“Oh my god!” he explodes. “If I see him again, it is on fuckin’ sight.”

“No! No J, it is not ‘on sight’ do you even hear yourself!”

“Do you hear yourself?” He returns immediately. “Listen, Mars is strong as hell. Did you not hear the part where I said that Felix put him in the infirmary for a month. That’s four weeks with advanced healers, dude.”

“Alright, I get it—”

“Do you? Seriously? Like, all of his ribs were broken. He literally almost died, and he's fucking Mars. You're you! You should not be putting yourself in these situations! You’re not invincible, Charlotte! I mean, you’re out there all by yourself, you can’t just—I mean, I’m not there, Mars isn’t there, like,” he heaves a frustrated sigh.

“What, Jeremy. You’re not here to protect me?” She can feel herself flash with a hot spark of anger, “Just because I don’t have powers, doesn’t mean that I’m completely helpless!”

“Stop. That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” he counters. “I’m saying, the whole point of you going to a mundane school was so you could just be around some normal people for once! But, Of course, you go and find the one super in the whole school. Of course, the one super at your school would be the most dangerous guy I know. Fucking great. I swear, it’s like you look at danger and just think Yeah, that looks friend-shaped, why not!”

“Whatever, Jeremy. Felix and I aren’t even friends! I told you we just had like, one conversation. He was sort of a jerk anyway. I—” she huffs, “look, I’ve got a lot of homework to take care of. I’ll talk to you later.”

She hangs up quickly, tossing her phone aside with a frustrated swear.

Jeremy has always been super protective of her. She understands where he’s coming from, and she can’t say that he’s wrong. But still. It’s so frustrating to hear him say it. Yes, she should be more careful. Yes, he’s not here to protect her. Yes, it’s scary that Felix nearly killed her brother. She didn't know that before.

Maybe she has a worse judge of character than she originally thought.

---

“Mr. Westwell, this has been an enlightening session,” his advisor says as they finish their online check-in. It’s what she always says, and it typically means that he’s done a bad job convincing her that he’s, he doesn’t know, normal? He supposes that's what she's looking for. Whatever it is she’s looking to get from him, it would seem as though he hasn’t been able to provide that just yet.

Even when he comes in, trying to answer the questions the way she wants them to be answered, he’s always met with a ‘this has been enlightening.’ She'll take her report back to the school, and he'll be stuck at this shitty mundane college. Theoretically, if he's on his best behavior, eventually Rosehill will accept him back. He doesn't think that's really going to happen.

“One more thing before I leave you, have you made any friends at Bayshear?” She asks.

“With any of the mundanes?” He scoffs, “I hardly see how that’s relevant.”

“Hm,” she says, obviously disappointed. She tilts her head, making a note of that response.

“Well, alright. I’ve made one friend, if it’s that important,” he covers quickly, crossing his arms with a huff. The coordinator pauses. The picture of her on his screen looks up at him over the rim of her glasses.

Great now he needs to think of a believable lie. Or, actually, wait. Maybe it doesn’t need to be a lie. It certainly won’t be the entire truth, but he might actually have something here.

“I met this girl. Her name is Charlotte. I don’t, uh, I don’t know her last name. She’s in one of my gen-ed classes, we were partners on a project.”

“Alright,” the coordinator does not sound terribly impressed. Now that he's heard himself say it out loud, he isn't really impressed either. Felix runs the mental math, trying to figure out if telling her what really happened would be better or worse for his record. She had asked him the story behind his black eye earlier, and he completely fielded the question, changing the subject entirely. Maybe he can actually spin this one though. It's worth a shot.

“Okay, fine. Do you want the story about my eye?” He says, gesturing to his still swollen face, The coordinator takes of her glasses, listening with a raised brow. “I’m not changing the subject, it kind of all goes together,” he sighs. “So these guys were being really obnoxious, and I know you probably won't believe me, but they actually started a fight with me. I swear I was actually trying to de-escalate and everything. But, I mean, long story short,” he gestures again to his face. “Maybe you should put in your notes that I lost a fight to a couple mundanes on purpose. If they were supers that would not have happened. But,” he raises his hands, digressing.

"I went out to the woods nearby to blow off some steam and Charlie- uh, Charlotte, the girl from my class, she followed me. I was like, ‘hey you need to leave,’ because I was going to use my ability, and I obviously didn’t want her there for that. Because I'm actually really trying to be on my best behavior and not traumatize the random mundanes here. But, she is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, so did she leave? Of course not. So, I grew, but she didn’t freak out. She was really normal about it. Uh, we," he decides to respectfully omit all the middle parts of the story, "we just, ended up talking. Apparently her brothers go to Rosehill? I don’t know. She also said she wouldn’t tell anyone about my abilities because the mundanes are weird about that sort of thing here. And, anyway. I don’t know. That’s probably a lot of nothing. It’s a new development. But yeah, we’re totally friends. Check.”

“Felix, that is…” enlightening. Yeah, whatever. He predicts her next words, but he's surprised when she says instead, “that is really some great progress. I’m happy to hear that,” she says. He looks up. “I hope to hear more about Charlotte next time, she sounds like she could be a good influence for you.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah for sure,” he says, and with that the videocall ends. This is great news for him. Charlie is such a social butterfly. And so far, he hasn’t really been able to get her to leave him alone.

Maybe he’ll make a friend after all.

[cloveroctobers]

starting to get to you — 9. Paul Cho (beef) [Winter Prompts]

A/N: Y’all have been asking for more Paul since forever and here’s me delivering it year(s)later. My concept of time has been trash since 2020 don’t mind me. I know this won’t probably do much in the notes department but I don’t really have anybody else to write about tbh. Also haven’t heard anything else on season 2 and if that’s still a go but they’re changing the storylines to anthology anyway which is unfortunate for Danny & Paul’s story and ironic since that’s pretty much all I write. At least we get to see YM in the last of us? Anyways! Happy new year to you all 🩵

~ @cigarettesandcoffeex I thought you might like a tag 😊

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: DIALOGUE PROMPTS — "Someone spiked the eggnog!" + “Yeah, yeah i know, you hate Christmas.”

WARNINGS: language + innuendos, grumpy reader! & minor use of possible incorrect German.

<- read my previous winter anthology prompt here.

⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･

At the holiday market was honestly the last place you wanted to be but having a best friend—who was broke mind you—who also adored Christmas was basically a set up to begin with. The both of you arrived to the festivities right before the sun set, since you had to go to work and Paul was gracious enough to give you an hour to decompress before bringing you out to interact with more humans.

You were content staying in, hate watching crappy Christmas rom coms, having some snacks, catching a few naps that you knew would hit perfectly since you had the day off tomorrow but you should have known Paul would make you his number one target to hang out with him. It’s not like you hated Paul’s presence by any means, he wouldn’t be your friend if you did, it’s just that Christmas wasn’t your thing.

And this year in particular felt heavier for some reason. Like you weren’t meant to enjoy the gift that is Christmas but you put on a happy face, caught an uber together down where the holiday market was held, and braced yourself against the chill in the California air.

It felt like the both of you had been here for hours, walking down the large street of vendors filled with too many people. Paul ended up pulling you off to a less crowded area so you could try the beverage he brought without anyone bumping your elbow in the process. Placing your lips against the rim, Paul watched you as if you were his favorite tv show, anticipating your reaction as you tasted the contents.

You’re coughing as soon as you do, “Someone spiked the eggnog!"

Paul furrows his brows first, plucking the cup from your hand and sips himself, before a grin appears on his face, “Whoa, you’re right! Guess that’s why this was called: Esther’s spunky Nog.”

Giving him a blank expression, Paul just laughs further before shoving a hand into the pocket of his hoodie and nudging his head for the both of you to continue, “C‘Mon, I heard there’s a mini tree decoration competition. Maybe that’s more your vibe.”

“Maybe if I get to stomp them out after everyone puts up the decorations?” You countered as you fall into step with Paul.

He rolls his eyes at you, taking another sip of the disgusting beverage, “I forgot how much of a grinch you are…you’re worse than Danny and that says a lot.”

Scoffing you say, “Am I supposed to be offended?”

“…I would be.” Paul mutters just for you to jam your elbow into his hip, “Ow! Hey! I’m just being honest.”

“And I’m being honest about Christmas being too much that it actually makes me want to gag.”

“I thought you didn’t have a gag reflex?” The twenty something year old man jokes, which immediately makes you walk off ahead of him.

Yet he didn’t want to lose you in the sea of people, however due to his height, he had the advantage if he did. Paul gives you your space for a little, enjoying the soft bells of music that plays from overhead speakers tucked somewhere above your heads, embracing the chilly air that Californians would often label as cold but wouldn’t last a day in areas that actually were in the winter, and he did find himself smiling at a family in particular that felt familiar until his senses pull him back to you.

You’re being led off to one of the stalls, disappearing beneath the tent and Paul has no problem pushing through people to get to you. Once inside the surprisingly warm tent, he sees you sitting in a chair chatting with a woman who has a heavy German accent, holding up a gingerbread heart.

“You good?” Paul questions, making your attention shift from the woman to him.

The heavy set woman who is dressed traditionally beams at the sight of Paul as she winks at you, “Liebling.”

Is all Paul catches and you’re shaking your head, which lets Paul know that you understand what’s being said and he’s out of the loop. The German woman pulls Paul by the wrist and shoves him into the space beside you.

“Nice to meet you too.” Paul snorts as the woman yells for the young man with the camera, while Paul slouched down beside you and leans towards you, “Guess you really have no choice but to get in the Christmas spirit now, huh?”

Crossing your arms you side eyed the man in the rolled beanie, “Little do you know, I already asked Mrs. Adelheid if she has any Krampus masks.”

It was Paul’s turn to give you a blank stare while you smiled sweetly at him, “What the fuck? That’s not very Christmas of you.”

“It is in Germany.” You bump his shoulder, smiling to yourself while Paul rolls his eyes.

Mrs. Adelheid comes back questioning and motioning what you two wanted on the gingerbread heart. Paul got the gist, pressing his elbows into his knees and letting a smirk grace his lips, “What about…y/n loves Paul? X-Mas ‘22.”

The annoyance on your face is evident while Mrs. Adelheid smiles at you two, before letting out a yell for the young teen to step forward and take their picture. Paul tosses an arm across your shoulder, leaning back against the chair and grinning while roughly pulling you into his side that you have to hold onto his chest so you don’t double over as you quickly look up at him. The camera flashes before you know it, making you call out to the anxious teen.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!”

Before you translate it into the bit of German that you know. Studying photo journalism abroad in Germany was a tale within itself but it was definitely a learning experience.

“1 hour.” Mrs. Adelheid informs the two after shooing her son off, “You’re welcome to stay and browse.”

Paul dips his head at the woman while you pull yourself away from under his arm. He lets his hand rest against his thigh, taking another sip of the warm spiked drink, smiling in secret amusement.

“How many likes do you think our gingerbread heart is going to get?” He asks.

Shaking your head you immediately reply, “You’re not posting that. We don’t even know how the picture came out.”

You understand getting raw footage but you can only wonder how this footage appeared.

“Quit your worrying, we’re hot and there’s no such thing as bad photos if you know your angles. And I would hope the kid would.”

“Seems like he’s forced to be here…something I can relate to so who knows?!” You throw your hands up in the air, “And I don’t need a repeat of your little fangirls threatening me on every social media account they stalk me on.”

Paul rubs at the back of his neck, “I did say I was sorry about that and made it clear to stream that no harassment towards you is cool…unless it’s from me of course.”

Your best friend was doing so well until he threw that last bit into it. It was during the summer time when Paul’s content creation slowly started to take off and people on the internet can definitely be more vicious since they felt like they had a screen that protects them. Even had a few “dedicated” fans pull up on you at work once, which was honestly the last straw and caused you to not want to be part of any streams Paul had going on.

He definitely understood and didn’t blame you.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, seeing the constant movement of attendees from outside the open tent. A few people would come in to browse and one ended up purchasing a wooden toy for their twins before it became quiet once more. Paul eventually got to his feet, looking around the vendor himself, knowing he couldn’t afford to purchase anything else right now but window shopping didn’t hurt.

You decided to browse your phone instead until you heard Paul’s booming voice, “Oh this turned out sick!”

That got you to your feet, moving to see the artwork. It was your photo in faded black and white placed in the shape of the gingerbread heart cookie, red frosting along the trimming, and a white string for it to be hung up. You peeked at Paul who appeared just like a kid on Christmas Day with stars in his eyes. Something so small brought him the biggest amount of joy and you were included on that.

The way your heart seemed to skip at the sight was something you’d never share.

“You like?” Mrs. Adelheid asks, “If not he will do it again.”

Paul shakes his head, “No! We love it, right?”

He glanced at you, hopeful.

A crooked smile appears on your lips, “We do. We’ll take it, you two do incredible work.”

Mrs. Adelheid smiles followed by a laugh at her own pun, “Herzlichen Dank.”

“Danke.” You still have a small smile on your lips, as Paul is holding onto the gingerbread heart by the string and the woman leaves to retrieve a padded box to protect it on your way home.

Your chin is hovering over Paul’s arm as he can’t seem to take his eyes off the cookie, “I told you we would look good as fuck. Or we ate down as you like to say. This is going to look fire hanging in the window…whoever decides to keep this and takes this home that is.”

Sighing, your lips part but Paul interrupts already having an idea of what you’re going to say,“Yeah, yeah I know, you hate Christmas.”

The longer you stare at the picture of you two together on this stiff cookie, the warmth that’s radiating from just standing beside your best friend, his soothing scent of ginger, mint, and cedar, and the way his own eyes are studying your gaze makes you appreciate the moment he’s loved all along.

Being around someone that mattered was perhaps maybe the only gift that you need.

“…I tolerate it because you love it.” Is what you come up with as your eyes meet his.

A stupid grin shines all over his features quicker than the glance he sends to your lips, “I’ve always known you were mushy underneath it all.”

“Don’t ruin it.” You shush with a finger to your lips.

Paul chuckles, “I won’t. It only lasts for a few seconds anyway.”

“Aw…you shouldn’t talk so low of yourself. It’s all about stamina.” You tease.

Paul scoffs, “Trust me, you don’t ever have to worry about that inside or outside the bedroom.”

Grimacing you lightly shove him, “Shut up, Paul.”

“You started it.”

Before you could get into a bickering match, the mother and son are back, wrapping and placing your gift into the box, collecting payment and wishing you a happy holiday before you’re blending back into the crowd. Paul’s holding onto the box underneath his arm, your arm is linked with his other now, and you’re stuck holding onto the eggnog that you’re occasionally sipping on to keep warm.

You don’t have much trouble doing that as your laughter echoes with Paul into the all and good night.

⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･

Continue with my winter anthology prompts here.

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

CBS Ghosts - Hello! - Sam & the Doctor

Warning spoilers may appear.

Okay.  How is it possible that Sam walked into her doctor’s office - the doctor that she SHOULD HAVE ALREADY MET - and just talk it all out and not notice that it’s NOT HER DOCTOR.

Or Maybe she was expecting to meet a new doctor? Is it possible that she didn't even know the doctor's name? Is she that stressed?

This is so interesting!  So this Ghost Doctor - first off, died at a Hospital, but more importantly, he has COME ACROSS someone ELSE that has seen ghosts before!  

He tells Sam what he thinks is the reason that Sam can see Ghosts is because she was so close to death that she is connected to death.  

It’s very interesting - knowing that children can sometimes see ghosts, I wonder if it’s possible that if a child sees ghosts and then gets an injury like Sam’s that they’ll be able to knock ability loose and see ghosts?

Not that it matters - I do like the reasoning, BUT in that case (spoilers here: Someone ELSE that literally became a ghost and then became alive again, SHOULD ALSO see ghosts, then).  ALSO, in the pilot BEFORE she passes out, she can see them.  She sees Pete and Trevor looking all worried.  So, at that point, she ‘hadn’t died for three minutes’, so....

Anyway, very interesting that he’s seen it before.  I wish Sam came across others with the ability. This would be a very interesting storyline. One of the guests at the B&B can see ghosts and there's this like game going on of Sam and the guest pretending not to see them and then figuring it out.

Did he even give her a name?  Also, I love how causal he is about this - like “Oh yeah, it’s been about 85 years” as if to make it so that she FINALLY realizes that she’s talking to a ghost.  

I really think that's what he was doing (true or not fact), this was the easiest way to keep her calm and have her realize what she was doing - IE, talking to a ghost.

Side Note - I LOVE that he’s so CHILL about talking to a living about her sudden issues with ghosts that he doesn't appear to have said ‘hey, you’re talking to me therefore, you see ghosts’.  

In fact, I wonder where he would’ve gone from here if the living doctor hadn’t interrupted?

LMAO - “Oh, I suppose you want to see your living doctor now - there she is, I’ll hand you off to her.”

Also, the living doctor walking in and being like ‘so what’s the problem’ and the LOOK on Sam’s face is like FUCK.  

One thing I absolutely love is that if we go with AT LEAST 85+50 years, he probably grew up in Hetty’s time, but unlike Hetty, he doesn’t seem to have ANY issues with a woman as A) a doctor and B) as a job that isn’t ‘raising the children’.  This means, that despite being dead for a very long time, he’s progressed in a way that our ghosts in the mansion HAVEN’T.  

Is it because he’s in a hospital with the changes in technology and medicine?  Is it because he’s witnessed men and women accepting the changes to equals?  Is it because of the access to the livings that he’s had where the others haven’t?  

This may seem trivial, but I think it’s important because we see the same things with our ghosts - having Sam and Jay around introduced them to life in a way that they hadn’t been introduced to it in a long time.  At least by the time that Pete died, it was ‘the old lady that lived alone’ and even though Trevor and his bros came around sometimes - David calls it ‘the country estate’ and doesn’t think anyone’s been there to ‘get into Woodstone’s secret Drug Drawer’ and we know by Hetty’s very strict attitudes as well as Thor’s unchangingness and the way most of them are stuck in their times that life hasn’t been around them. 

We don’t know how long, but it seems that sometime between 1928 (the party Alberta died at) and 1985 (when Pete died) that activity there died.  At which point, there was no room to grow.  

I’ll bring it up later - with regards to certain other ghosts, but I just thought it was SO interesting that he’s so ... progressive compared to our ghosts.  

ANYWAY, I really like him and I wish we got a name or something.  

Side note - totally love that he was so convincing that Sam immediately is like “you know what - he knows his stuff, ghosts exist”.  

Thanks for reading :)

Feel free to chat :)

[hbosucc]

Greg Hirsch x Reader: Chapter 8

Link to previous chapter (18+ only, minors dni!) here.

This chapter is kind of part two to the previous one; it picks up right after the last one ended.

Content Warnings, same as always:

Sexual Content (only mentioned in this chapter, no explicit scenes, but it's still an 18+ chapter)

Swearing

Alcohol consumption

Mention of drug use

Maybe fluff towards the end??

That's all! I'm having a really weird, difficult time irl right now, and posting these is something fun to look forward to. So, if you're reading, thank you:) xoxoxo

Chapter 8: Meeting the Fam, Part II

Back in the main room, I craned my head to look for Greg. I spotted him at the bar and had to stop myself from breaking into a run. He glanced up and met my eyes as I approached him, his smile disappearing as he saw the traces of unease I hadn’t been able to wipe from my face.

“Hey, are you okay? I just saw your text.” He asked, taking my hand as I reached him.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.” I gave my best attempt at a smile, looking over my shoulder, then back up at him.

“Are you sure? I was looking for you for, like, a while.” He looked concerned, which almost made me start crying again.

“I’m sure.” I squeezed his hand. “What did Kendall want?”

“Just, like, family drama, which is also work drama, like usual.” Greg sighed. “They really can’t chill out, even for one night.”

“God, that sucks.” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Greg lowered his voice. “You’re kind of…I don’t know, something feels different?”

“I’m…” I closed my eyes for a moment, then looked up at him. “I just did coke, Greg.”

“Oh, oh.” Greg’s eyebrows went up. “Okay, gotcha. No, that makes sense. Um.”

“I know.” I nodded. “There was this really nice girl I met in the bathroom, and she asked me if I wanted a bump, and I said sure, why not.” I felt bad lying to him, but Tom’s warning from earlier about ruining Greg’s career rang through my mind. Tom was a prick, but there was still something that felt dangerous about him. And as much as I hated Waystar, I did not want to be responsible for Greg getting fired.

“Oh, I see.” Greg nodded. “That’s cool, I mean, I don’t care that you did it—I mean, I’ve done it before, too, just so you know—I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” I lowered my voice. “I’m wondering if it was cut with something weird, though, and that’s why I was feeling so sick at first. I’m okay now, though, I think.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we can totally blow this off, and, like, head home, if you’re not feeling well.”

“Really?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, totally.” He nodded. “I think Logan’s supposed to be giving a speech at some point, but I don’t really need to stay for that.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” I leaned against him, glancing out over the crowd. I saw that Tom had reappeared across the room and was now talking to his wife. His eyes met mine for a moment, a smile tugging up the corner of his lips.

“Do you want to just go back to my place? I mean, it’s closer, and you haven’t been over yet.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” I ripped my gaze away, meeting Greg’s eyes again, giving him a more successful smile this time. I really was interested to see his apartment.

“Okay, cool. I’ll call the driver if you go get our coats? Meet you out there?”

“Okay.” I nodded, taking his coat check ticket and heading for the exit, keeping my gaze straight ahead, my shoulders back.

I got our coats and stepped out into the frigid air, wrapping mine around myself and trying not to shiver. My legs were mostly bare, and I shifted from foot to foot, trying to warm myself. I felt my phone vibrate and I pulled it out to see a text from an unsaved number.

Remember what I told you.

          My fingers shook as I tried to think of how to respond, if I should at all, and I knew it wasn’t just from the cold. I wasn’t surprised that Tom had been able to find my number—not really. I put the phone back in my pocket, wrapping my coat tighter around myself. I was about to head back inside to wait for Greg, the cold outweighing my fear of running into Tom yet again, but then I saw Greg heading towards me. The car pulled up, and the driver came around to open the door for us.

          In the warmth of the car, I still shivered, scooting closer to Greg and laying my chin on his shoulder. He squeezed my thigh, then interlocked his fingers with mine.

          “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to turn up the heat more, or anything?” He asked softly, brushing some of my hair back from my face.

          “No, it’s okay. I’m warming up now.” I smiled. “I’m excited to finally see your place.”

          “I am, too! It’s kind of crazy. I don’t know if I told you, but Kendall, who you met tonight, actually owns the place, and he’s kind of just, like, letting me live there right now.”

          “Really?” I asked. “That’s really cool of him.”

          “I know, right?” He went on to tell me the story of how he hadn’t been able to believe it at first, that he’d thought Kendall had been playing a joke on him. Given the initial impressions I’d gotten of his family members, that didn’t surprise me.  

          We pulled up to his building and he helped me out, leading the way inside, then up in the building’s elevator, almost to the top floor. When the door slid open to reveal his apartment, I was surprised at its size, despite how he’d already described it to me. It had the tallest ceilings I’d ever seen in an NYC apartment—or any apartment, anywhere, really.

          “Jesus, this is incredible.” I breathed, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the lit-up city.

          “It is. I still can’t believe I get to live here sometimes. Like, I keep waiting for him to kick me out.” He let out a nervous laugh.

          “That’s kinda fucked up.” I turned to face him, leaning against the glass.

          “Yeah, it is.” He sighed, coming over to me. “Hey, did anyone…did any of them say anything, like, weird to you? I mean, I saw that Tom was with you at the bar while Kendall and I were talking, and then, like, the next time I looked over, you were both gone.”

          I closed my eyes, leaning into his chest. I didn’t want to lie to him. The truth swirled around inside of me, and I felt a wave of nausea as the mix of no food, lots of alcohol, and two lines caught up with me.

          “I’m going to throw up,” I choked out, realizing I didn’t know where his bathroom was.

          “Oh, fuck, okay, it’s this way.” He read my mind, pulling me down a hallway and into a bathroom, flipping the light on. I bent over the toilet, making it just in time for my guts to upend themselves, spilling the evening’s overpriced g&t’s into the bowl.

          Another wave came up, and then everything was out, nothing left inside of me. I felt Greg’s hands in my hair, smoothing it back from my face. I spit into the toilet and closed the lid, flushing and propping up my head, unable to look up at him.

          “I’m sorry.” I croaked. “You didn’t have to—you didn’t have to stay.”

          “No, no, it’s okay.” He said, rubbing my back slowly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

          “I’m—I’m fine now.” I pushed myself up and stood shakily, looking at myself in the mirror. My makeup was streaked down my face, my hair mussed, my eyes red and teary. “Fuck.”

          “Do you need to throw up more, or do you want to go lie down?”

          “I think I’m done. Do you have, like, mouthwash or anything?” I asked, leaning on the counter, my head in my hands.

          “Yeah, I’ll go get some. Be right back.” I heard him pad down the hall and open another door. I spat into the sink and turned on the tap, rinsing my mouth with water while I waited. How much did I need to tell him? How much could I tell him?

          “Here,” He reappeared in the doorway, handing me a bottle of Listerine.

          “Thanks,” I took a big swig, swishing it around between my teeth for a minute, until it stung my gums, then spat the minty foam and rinsed it down the drain.

          “Do you want, like, one of my shirts to wear to bed?” He looked like he wanted to reach out and touch me, but hesitated.

          “That would be great, yeah.” I nodded. He led us down the hall to his bedroom, which was just as big as I’d imagined it would be, having seen the rest of the apartment. “You don’t have any makeup wipes, do you?”

          “No, sorry.” He shook his head, rummaging through his drawers. He pulled out a white t-shirt and handed it over.

          “That’s okay. Can you help me with the zipper?” I turned around, and he pulled the zipper down so I could slide the dress off of my body. I shuddered as I remembered how Tom had done the same thing just hours before. I unhooked my bra quickly, pulling the t-shirt on to cover myself.

          “Y/n.” He took my hands in his. “Please just tell me what’s wrong.”

          “I…” I started, swallowing, closing my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, into his searching gaze. “Tom was being, like, kind of weird.”

          “How—how so?” He sat down on the bed, pulling me to him.

          “When you weren’t around he…he was just…I don’t know, like, weirdly interested in me, I guess.” I bit my lip. “But I was worried because if I told you anything, and he found out, he said he’d…” I was still too high, and having to deal with conflict felt incredibly overwhelming, and I collapsed, sniffling into his chest.

          “Fucking Tom, oh my God.” He sighed, pulling me onto his lap.

          “Please don’t let him know I even said—said anything.” I whispered, another sob coming out.

          “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m not scared of Tom, okay? You don’t need to worry. Whatever he said he’d do to me, don’t worry about it.

          “Did he…” Greg trailed off, and I looked up at him. “Did he do anything to you?”

          “No.” I shook my head. “Almost, but no. He said he was, like, just joking with me or something.”

          He ran a hand over my hair, reaching down to wipe my tears with his thumb. “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I should’ve realized he would do something tonight.”

          “It’s not your fault.” I whispered, swiping at my face. “I’m gonna go wash my face, okay? Be right back.”

          I got up and went back to the bathroom, cleaning off my face the best I could with soap and water—I knew it wasn’t great for my skin, but it was probably better than sleeping in a full face of makeup. I padded back to the bedroom and found him sitting in the same spot, on his phone.

          “You’re not texting him, are you?” I balked in the doorway.

          “Hey, come here.” He opened his arms, and I allowed myself to be wrapped in them once more. “I don’t want you to worry about Tom. He’s a dick, yeah, but he’s kind of…like, on the outs with the fam right now. He’s impotent, okay? I’m not worried about him.”

          “If you’re sure…” I swallowed.

          “I’m sure.” He laid back against the pillows, pulling me down with him. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

          “It’s not your fault.” I said again, burying my face in his chest.

          “Is there anything I can do? To make you feel better?” He ran a hand over my hair, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

          “I don’t think so. I’m okay.” I whispered. I wished I could just go to sleep, but I was still too wired from the coke. It was going to be a very long night.

          “You don’t want me to kill him, or anything?” He asked, and I giggled, trying to stifle the noise with my hand. “What, you don’t think I can put out a hit on him?”

          “Not really.” I said, pressing my lips together, but more laughter spilled out, and he joined in, still holding me close.

          “You don’t want me to have the mob take him out?” He teased, and I shook my head, giving him a kiss.

          “No, if you’re going to kill him, I want you to do it yourself.” I rubbed my nose against his. He’d succeeded in making me feel better, at least for the moment.

          “Well, whatever you want.” He pressed another kiss to my lips, and I let myself melt into him before pulling back. “Do you want to go to bed?”

          I shook my head. “I’m kind of tired, but I’m not going to be able to sleep for a while.”

          “Do you want to watch a show or something, then?” He asked, rolling over to grab a remote from his nightstand.

          “Sure.” I sat up as he scrolled through some options, landing on something light and stupid, pressing play on a random episode.

          “Are you hungry at all?” He asked. “I have, like, cereal, and probably some chips and stuff.”

          “No, I’m okay.” I smiled. His place was such a bachelor pad. “Thank you, though. You’re the sweetest.”

          “Nah, I’m not.” He protested, but I could see that he was pleased.

          “You are, too.” I kissed his cheek, moving down to his neck.

          “For real, though, do you need anything?” He looked at me, our eyes locking in the dim light coming from the TV screen. It might’ve been the fact that I was high, but it felt like he was looking straight into me, reading my mind.

          “No, no, I’m…I’m good.” I whispered. “Just need you here, with me. That’s all.”

          “Okay.” He breathed out, pulling me closer to him once again, our limbs wrapping around each other, my ear pressed to his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping away, and relaxed into the sound. I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while yet, but that was okay, as long as I could stay with him, just like this.

[tobiasdrake]

Well, that was an unmitigated disaster. What else have you got for me?

YES. Is it a murder? Kidnapping? Missing persons? All of the above?

Oh. Well, I guess that technically counts as a missing persons case. Hey, maybe they're dead and I'll get to find their killer!

Either way, it gets me out of the sub for a bit and, finally, away from Yakou.

That's... an interesting question, actually. We still know nothing about how this shinigami contract even came to be a thing we would know about and perform. One over there is supposed to be the greatest detective ever and Shinigami has a slant towards mysteries so maybe they do--

Okay yeah, she definitely knows One. My guess is he's responsible for our contract in some way.

Oh good, a collect-a-thon. Well, at least it has narrative rewards. I always like narrative rewards for collectibles. Makes me motivated to give a shit.

I mean, I'm going to wind up collecting them either way because I'm neurodivergent and like to collect things. But I'll be less sour about it if I get story stuff in payment!

Though she goes on to clarify that I can't have the memories I sold her back; These just let me see hangout moments with the other Detectives that I inexplicably forgot. So these basically function like the Free Time Events, letting us see moments of chilling with the other characters, shooting the shit and learning about them.

Well, guess that means I can check out my first big social event and spend some more time with....

Yakou....

*sigh* I cannot get away from this man for five minutes.

You know, Yakou's actually making some sense here. I've been (and will likely continue to be) pretty critical of him for being so adamantly against the work we're here to do.

But his point here isn't wrong. All work is work. Dividing people into classes based on whose work is superior will cause you to break out in business executives.

At the end of the day, Yakou's freaking out because this just isn't the work for him. He's happy tailing cheaters and finding lost puppies. And if that makes him feel fulfilled, then who am I to judge?

You do you, man. I gotta admit, I've gained a little bit of respect for you from--

I was gonna make a joke here but actually, nah. This is only a punchline due to a cultural philosophy of nigh-fetishistic reverence for the act of working as if it is virtuous in and of itself. This is, itself, one of the nasty hooks that capitalism wriggles into its peasant class to wring labor out of them.

Teaching you that Work = Virtue is a way to get you to undervalue your own labor. "You should want to work, you should do it just to do it, the act of labor is its own reward!" No. Fuck you. Pay me.

So. No. I'm not going to make fun of Yakou for this (even though the writing definitely wants me to). He is absolutely right. A good drink that you worked hard to earn tastes pretty sweet, and a good drink you didn't need to work for tastes even sweeter. The drink is the reward. The labor is just a means to an end.

[ofgentleresolve-a]

in another place || au starter ( ft. @jeoseungsaja​​ )

Plans are bound to go awry. It’s the one thing he’s found consistently in the five years he’s been in this line of work: have a plan going in and have two more in advance to accommodate for any WRENCHES thrown in. 

However, this might just be the biggest wrench of them all. And from the moment it ( he ) reveals itself, Myungdae knows two alternatives aren’t going to be enough. The wrench is not going to fix itself either. Patrick Grace, by all intentions, is dead;  Disappeared five years ago without a trace, never to be seen again. He’s been replaced by the Black Knight and Shin Myungdae. All in all, Patrick Grace was buried a long time ago. 

But what happens if there’s someone who can see through both facades?

The office his dear friend has taken up is rundown. Dilapidated. There’s only one security camera for the entrance too, which has Patrick concerned- has Hyuk developed any sense of self-preservation in these five years? Because clearly, combined with the fact he’s been tailing the Black Knight and clawing his way in to the outer rim of ANACHRON’s attention, he hasn’t. At all. 

But it does make slipping into his office easy. Patrick’s not about to let five years’ worth of SECRECY go down the drain; he’s given up five years to make sure his loved ones don’t suffer an ending similar to Felicity’s. The last thing he needs is Hyuk, who is very much included in this category, butting his way into this and ruining that.

So when his dear friend finally enters the back room of his office and shuts the door behind him, Patrick makes his presence known. Darting out of the shadows, Patrick grabs his dear friend by the front of his shirt and slam him against the wall- hard enough to make a sound, but not enough to hurt him. It’s the first time Patrick has seen Hyuk up close in years. He looks tired. Haggard, like he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in well, years. Patrick lets out a sharp sigh. Dammit. He forces himself to look at the wall behind Hyuk- he can’t bring himself to look him in the eye. Otherwise, he might just lose his RESOLVE.

“Hand over your findings.” He says, voice icy. His voice modulator hides his voice with the voice of the Black Knight. The hand around Hyuk’s shirt tightens as does the hand around his sword. “Whatever business you think you have, you don’t. Stay out of it- this is for YOUR OWN GOOD.”

[dream-phantasm]

Leona Kingscholar x Reader: Love Letters (4)

Ruggie's real introduction and Cater shows up! ^^ Hope you enjoy! No spoilers or warnings for now but this might change in future installments :)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 [!] | PART 5 | PART 6 | END

It's only after third period that you remember it's Valentines day once again. After everything had occurred, the letter and gift had totally slipped your mind. At your desk, you find a handful of dandelions with a note tied to it. 

As an apology and because he forced me too, hehe.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. "That guy from earlier! He must've sent these to distract us and pre-planned to steal the sandwiches from us!" You blurt out. "What?" Deuce looks confused. "Yeah, what?" Ace raises an eyebrow. 

"Henchman, I think you're being stupid dazo." Grim shrugs. "I'm not! Look, it totally makes sense! Everything goes wrong and then I get flowers and a card apologizing!" You explain quickly. 

"Yeah, but there's no way that guy could've guessed we would get the sandwiches unless…" Deuce stops, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Unless he was eavesdropping."

"You think he's stalking us? That's how he knew where I sat and everything!" You excitedly whisper. It was the exhilaration of figuring something out. "But why target you specifically? I mean, you really don't have a lot going for you." Ace stares you up and down. You roll your eyes. "That's exactly it. I'm the magicless one here. I can't do anything to retaliate." You grumble, you've long come to terms with your position here. 

You weren't going to lay down and just take it though. A chill goes up your spine.

You whip your head toward the classroom window. There's nobody…nothing there. "Fygaa! Di-Did'ya see something there dazo!?" Grim yelps upon seeing you suddenly turn. Deuce cautiously approaches the window and looks out. 

"Um, there's nobody out here…"

Ace peeks his head out, "Hey, if there's somebody there, you better not be stalking the prefect! They're really dull and boring and it's not gonna be fun for you!"

"Hey!"

You go back to pick up the dandelions. What a strange choice of flowers. They didn't particularly strike you as romantic flowers but you guess there was that myth of blowing on dandelions to make wishes. 

"Ah, wait…" Your eyes widen as you spot another letter nestled within the dandelions. "Oh, what is it?" Deuce looks over your shoulder. "Another threat dazo!" Grim exclaims.

As you unfold it, you realize it's way longer than the first one that had simply two words. 

Good day, You're so annoying. 

"What a great starter." Ace snorts. "Shut up, I'm trying to read." Deuce hushes him with a glare as he urges you to continue. 

"Wait, you can read?"

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

You ignore them as all three of them get into an argument behind you. Your eyes are locked onto the words.

Traditions suggest that I'm supposed to be sending romantic gestures on February the 14th. If you knew who I was, I doubt you'd want to reciprocate anything. I don't care if you reciprocate or don't. 

I know I'll never be the one you love most, and that's fine. It'd be ridiculous of me to assume that. Spending time with you is enough for me to deal with. I really dislike you for making me put in this much effort right now. I don't like the way you speak and laugh, it makes me feel irritated. 

I get this feeling in my chest and I'm really hoping it's heart arrhythmia or a heart attack. It's only whenever I'm around you, you really are too dangerous to be around. 

You let out a little laugh at this. You've gained your first substantial clue. You must've talked to them before. Maybe that's why you had a sense that you had met that beastman before. 

Besides that, you should actually be careful. That weirdo probably caught wind of this and is probably watching you. 

Now this makes you concerned. You had been feeling watched the whole time but every time you checked, there was nothing. 

Seriously, why was this Valentines shaping up to be a horror instead of something romantic? 

I'm not apologizing for putting you on his radar. You probably already had his interest since you're so bizarre. It's your fault for catching my attention, of all people, anyway. 

You scoff. You didn't ask to get stalked. Why were guys at Night Raven College like this? 

Yours Truly,

That's where it ends. No signature, no name. Nothing to really identify who had sent this. 

That beastman from earlier didn't seem like a person who would write like this, but you couldn't tell from one (possibly two) encounters. 

Maybe you should just catch that beastman and ask him yourself. Yes, that's it!

"Let's catch that food thief." You declare. They all turn to you. 

"What?"

"Nyahaha! Let's make him pay dazo!" 

"Uh, but how do we do that…?" Deuce rightfully asks. You blink. "Uh, we can start by asking around." You suggest. "Honestly, this sounds like such a stupid idea." Ace scoffs. 

"But I'm in." He smirks. 

-

Cater was scrolling through his phone, on his way to his next class, when you and Grim jumped in front of him. 

"Cater!" 

"Whoa!" He laughs, seemingly out of shock. 

Behind him, Ace and Deuce spring out. Cater turns around with a smile on his face. 

"It's nice to see you guys again. How has your Valentines day been?" Cater waves casually. "This is fine. Everything's fine." You send him a shaky thumbs-up. "Uhh, what's up? You okay? You having love troubles or something, hm?" He teasingly asks. 

"Yeah…" You mutter, you're not focused on the current conversation.

 

"But that's not the big issue! Some furry stole our food dazo!"

Cater chokes. "D-Don't say that, Gri! You're totally going to get cancelled for that…the term is beastmen." He quickly splutters, looking around sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah." Ace rolls his eyes. 

"Uh, Cater, we actually came to ask you for your help since you know a lot of people." Deuce speaks up, reminding you all the reason you had surrounded him in the first place. "Oh? My little underclassmen are coming to me for help! Don't worry, you can rely on your super dependable Cay!" He practically squeals. 

"Agh, now you've made it weird. We should go ask Trey, c'mon." Ace groans, looking embarrassed. "No way! Come on, just ask me. I can help out!" Cater insists with a pout. You wonder if this is a ploy by Ace to get Cater to agree to helping because it seems like it's working. 

"Henchman? Yoohoo. Are ya there dazo?" Grim must've hopped onto your shoulders while you were distracted. "Is that the guy you're looking for?" Cater asks curiously. He was behind you, trying to follow your line of sight. 

Outside, there's a field. Crouched among them is a familiar head of dark blonde hair and a large pair of fluffy animal ears. "Hm, he looks like second year Ruggie Bucchi from 2-B. From his animal features, you probably already guessed he's in Savanaclaw and you'd be right! I think he's actually a hyena beastman." Cater cheerfully gives you a short description of him.

You run outside. "Fygaa! Henchman, where are you going dazo?!" Grim tumbles off your shoulder, you already know he'll land on his feet. Their shouts grow further as you exit the building.

Their voices grow further as you exit the building. You gasp. 

You run into the field and you gasp. You weren't hallucinating. That was definitely a cute tail! Oh yeah, and that food thief.

You weren't hallucinating. That was definitely a cute tail! Oh yeah, and that food thief.

Ao3: HERE If you see it posted anywhere or by anyone else, it's not me.

[redrobin-detective]

Half of

Danny Fenton was half ghost. Or something.

No one was quite sure what that meant exactly or if it was even true. A ghost in a pure white suit had announced it during an attack on the town until he was beaten and silenced by Phantom. It’s been three days since then and the nerd hasn’t been at school. Not that Dash was looking for him or anything.

Dash worried, for just a second, that something bad happened to him. The Guys in White creeps had been asking questions around school the last few days. There’d been a noticeable lack in ghost attacks around town, maybe another ghost got to him? What about his ghost obsessed parents? Surely they wouldn’t have done anything to their own kid...

“Think Danny will be in school today?” Kwan whispered nervously, leaning in close to Dash’s side. Talking too loudly about the elephant, or ghost he guesses, in the room got people very forcefully interviewed by the government. 

“Why the hell would I know?” Dash grumbled, shaking his friend off to shove his hands deep into the pockets of his letterman jacket. “No one knows what’s going on, Manson and Foley haven’t shown up either.”

“I hope they’re ok,” Kwan said quietly, looking down at the floor. 

“Why do you care?” Dash grumbled, harsher than he meant to.

“You and everyone ditched me for Danny when Paulina was dating him, remember? Sam and Tucker were real pals and Danny, well he’s weird but not really that bad.” Kwan said bitterly before his eyebrows twisted in confusion. “That was actually pretty out of character for Paulina to date him now that I think about it, maybe he was, like, using ghost magic to control her?”

“That’s stu-” Dash was interrupted by the usually noise of Casper High going dead silent. He and Kwan shrugged at each other. He saw Star down the hallway, staring at something. He caught her eye and mouthed What is it at her. Her eyes slid back over to the hall before mouthing Fenton back. 

“Shit,” Dash couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Fenton’s here.” He glanced over at Kwan, trying to hide his nervousness. “Guess we’ll find out if he’s some sort of ghost freak after all.”

Kwan eyed him for a second, “you know if Danny really is half of a ghost then maybe you’ll want to quit it with the names.” The warning bell rang for first period. “You guys have homeroom together with Lancer, right? Just, I don’t know, don’t make him mad or anything.”

“Man, don’t even joke,” Dash said with a strained smile. “It’s Fenton, what’s the nerd gonna do?”

XxX

Fenton always sat in the back right of the class so seeing him there wasn’t that strange. What was strange was that he was there before the bell rang, not looking sweaty or exhausted or beaten up. Seeing him sitting there with an almost bored expression, casually leaning one arm over the back of his chair. It was eerie, seeing Fenton try to act normal. Dash felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on his head as he stiffly walked by the nerd he usually smacked when he walked by. He thought he felt Fenton’s icy eyes following him as he passed. Dash made sure he didn’t scurry like a wimp to his seat but it was a close thing.

“Class, please stop staring at Mr. Fenton and let us begin,” Lancer sighed, unsuccessfully trying to start the class.

“Do you know the ghost boy?” Paulina asked, slamming her palms on her desk and ignoring their teacher. “Because if you’ve been holding out on me-”

“I mean everyone in Amity Park knows him,” Fenton shrugged. He’d been so chill this morning, like the whole thing wasn’t bothering him. It only made Dash more antsy. He bounced his leg under the desk.

“Can you do anything cool? Like fly or shoot lasers from your eyes?” Mikey asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I can do lots of cool things,” Fenton sniffed. “I know a lot about the space program and local astronomy. I draw sometimes and I’m think I’m pretty good. I also have super flexible joints so I can do this.” He grinned a little as everyone squealed when he bent his thumb back so far it nearly touched his wrist. “Of course,” his grin turned into an eye roll, “no one really cares about that only my supposed superpowers.”

“What is a half of, exactly? What that ghost called you?” Dash found himself asking. He almost didn’t want to be heard but Fenton turned to look at him anyways. 

“What do you think it means?” Fenton questioned back. Though he had a teasing smirk, his eyes looked dull and dead. Dash couldn’t look at them and ducked his head. 

“Alright, alright, enough with the questions. The Fenton’s gave Danny a clean bill of health and allowed him to rejoin class so that’s all you kids need to know. Now, back to what we were actually talking about.” Class continued as expected but everyone still snuck glances at Fenton. He’s not sure what they were all waiting for, him to suddenly turn green or sprout horn or whatever. But Fenton just sat there, still as anything, trying to act normal and it just didn’t fit him right and it was all just. Wrong.

XxX

Dash was relieved Fenton wasn’t in his second or third period classes but they did have the same lunchtime. For the first time since he was skinny, bucktoothed 6th grader, Dash wanted to hide away and eat his lunch in private. But Fenton wasn’t the only one trying to keep up appearances.

“Alright, what has everyone got,” Paulina was whispering to the table by the time Dash was sitting down. “The day is halfway over, someone had to have seen him doing something ghostly.”

“I mean we don’t know how long he’s been like this,” Star commented, flipping her hair as pretense to sneak a glance at the loser trio near the back entrance of the cafeteria. “He could’ve been hiding his for a while.”

“Fenton’s always been weird,” Dale commented with a sneer, stabbing at his beefaroni. “Since day one, he’s been jumpy and clumsy and goes through weird mood swings.”

“Maybe he’s never been normal,” Kwan said with a little frown. Now Dash knows this wasn’t true. He was the only one at the table who’d gone to the same middle school as Fenton. The nerd had talked too much about space and was always tripping over something but he’d been like all the other annoying brats in middle school. Dale was onto something, Fenton had changed once high school hit which means whatever is up with him as been going on for a while. Years. 

He suddenly felt eyes on him, a cold, crawling feeling that made his breath catch in his throat. Dash squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a silent sigh of relief as the eyes turned from him. They didn’t return but Dash found he couldn’t eat after that.

XxX

“Dude, did you hear about Fenton?” Victor said in an excited but still hushed whisper as Dash was leaving fifth period. 

“No, what did he do?” Dash asked with dread.

“He had gym last period and apparently he’s been faking his loser weakness. He crawled up the rope climb like a goddamned spider monkey and then slid himself back down. Don’t know how he didn’t have intense rope burn from that. He also beat Charlie, Katie and Veronica on the sprinting portion. Must be those ghosty genes.”

“Fenton did all that?” Dash asked, he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

“Yeah it was crazy, I thought Tetslaf was gonna pass out,” Victor laughed. “Maybe we should get him to try out for the football team, he’d be a great running back or-”

“Come on, Vic,” Dash laughed but the sound came out wrong. “Why would we want Fenton on our team? He’s, he’s Fenton! Just a skinny, weird little wimp.” Vic side-eyed him a bit before clapping Dash on the back.

“World’s changing, Dash. First ghosts, now half ghosts, it’s all wrong but you just gotta roll with it. All I know is I have 2 years left in this hell hole before I leave this miserable place for Chicago and never look back. I recommend you do the same, after all,” Vic grinned again but it was sharper. “Fenton’s always been your personal punching bag, not every day you learn your victim has superpowers.”

“We don’t know what the hell is up with Fenton,” Dash defended. Vic just shrugged.

“Yeah but he’s always been a freak now we know he ain’t human. Who knows what else he’s hiding?” Vic said with a smug smile before wandering off, giving a halfhearted wave over his shoulder as he left.

Dash stood in the hallway, trying to get himself under control until the warning and late bell rang. Only then, when he was certain he wouldn’t run into Fenton, did he head to class. 

XxX

“Should we follow him, see where he goes?” Paulina said, biting onto one of her nails in nervous excitement. Paulie was gorgeous and overall pretty cool but her thing with ghosts sometimes tired Dash out. Now more than ever. 

“Come on, that’s like stalking,” Kwan scolded. “Even if that wasn’t illegal or whatever it’s just not cool. They had a rough day today, leave ‘em alone.” That icy chill returned and Dash looked out of the corner of his eye to see Fenton and his cronies walking out of the school. 

Truthfully, Dash didn’t think Fenton had that bad of a day. Yeah people were asking questions but he’d side stepped them all, gave non-answers. Other people talked about Fenton’s supposed strength in gym but there’d been conflicting reports, some said he flew up the rope climb, others said he levitated doing his push ups. Dash really didn’t know what to believe. Fenton was just acting, well, like Fenton. He paused for a second, stopped walking before catching up with the group.

Maybe... maybe Dash was getting caught up over nothing. There really was no proof Fenton was this ‘half of’ other than what one dumb ghost said. He thought back to Fenton’s grin during first period; stupid nerd was probably milking his 15 minutes of fame and bully free time. His earlier fear and uncertainty burst into flames until a familiar anger was burning in his gut. Now this he knew what to do with.

“Yeah, well his day is about to get rougher,” Dash heard himself say as he stomped off to where Fenton was smiling tiredly at something Manson was saying. “Hey Fentonio! Think you’re pretty cool with every paying attention to you but I-”

Fenton gasped suddenly, like a hiccup only his breath misted out in front of him cold as a winter’s day. Dash stopped midsentence watching as Fenton’s whole face twisted. His earlier weary but tolerant annoyance that he’d been projecting all day was stripped away. He glared at Dash with an expression that was hard as ice and full of an exhaustion and bitterness he couldn’t begin to understand.

“As payment for being forcibly outed,” Fenton spoke up loudly enough that most of the school yard could hear him. “I was promised a week.” His eyes slowly but methodically scanned the crowd who had frozen in place at his authoritative tone. “Where I didn’t have to deal with ghosts, so I want to know... Who is trespassing on my haunt.”

Fenton’s mouth opened impossibly wide revealing what seemed like rows of sharped teeth. He curled his fingers into claws and, looking closer, his fingernails had indeed become real claws, as sharp and deadly as his teeth. His eyes blazed an impossible, ectoplasmic green and his dark hair developed streaks of white. He was terrifying, monstrous, but he was still Fenton. That feeling that had been eating at dash all day came back full force. Not the realization that Fenton had powers or whatever but that he had been hiding it in plain sight through ghost attacks and bullies and failing grades. This had always been Fenton, they just hadn’t seen. Until now that is.

And now the script had flipped and Dash didn’t know how this Ghost Fenton, who still was the same Fenton Dash had wedgied last Wednesday, fit. A green blob ghost materialized over by stairs, quivering and wailing in some ghost language. It turned and fled, presumably in the direction of the Fenton Portal to escape Fenton’s wrath. Fenton’s glowing eyes tracked it for a moment before he straightened up from his hunched posture and... was human again.

He brushed his hands through his black hair, lazily blinked blue eyes and, when he smiled, his teeth were normal. But Dash had seen, they all had. He’d let them see but to what end, he had no idea. Fenton turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow and another small smirk, just as tired as earlier.

“Sorry about that Dash, I take my vacation time very seriously. You were saying?” Fenton said with a smug lilt but his eyes were still dead and there was a bit of fear in them now. Despite his powers, he still gripped his backpack tightly.

“When your dumb little vacation’s up, Fentionail,” Dash said with a shaky voice. “It’s-it’s back to business, okay? Punches and wedgies and locker shoving. You,” he voice cracked a bit and he fought it down. “It’ll ramp up now that I know you can take it.” Fenton blinked, once then twice before he smiled. This time it wasn’t annoyed or scary or fearful but like the dumb grins he usually gave his dumb friends. 

“Yeah okay, we’ll start back up next week. The usual time?” Dash nodded, not knowing what else to say. “Alright, see you around.” He turned to walk away before pausing and turning back. “Actually you should be careful on who you shove into lockers, it can get hard to breathe in there and not everyone can phase out of them. You never know who’ll turn up dead,” he grinned and his eyes flashed green again, “if only half.”

That said, he and his friends walked away, ignoring the stares of the entire school on them. “Oh and it’s halfa, not half of,” Fenton called out over his shoulder. “I’m not half of anything, I’m just a whole me even if the details get a bit complicated.”

“Bye Danny, see you tomorrow,” Kwan called after with a grimace. No one else said anything for a minute until Dash found the strength to move his legs from where they’d been planted. He clenched his fists to hide his shaking and continued his walk home. Everyone else slowly did the same, talking quietly among themselves.

“What the hell was that?” Dale asked in a nervous high pitched voice. “What the hell did I just see?”

“Fenton being a weirdo but that’s nothing new,” Dash shrugged with a confidence he didn’t have yet. But if Fenton could show up to school after being outed and then willingly show them his inhumanity, then Dash needed to up his game. Couldn’t let the nerd be cool or anything. “So what if he glows or whatever, he’s still Fenton. Look I gotta get home, it’s Pookie’s feeding time and he is NOT going to believe the day I had.

[theflyingfeeling]

☀️ "it's always sunny in Stockholm" ☀️

aka a concert report from Fryshuset Klubben, Stockholm, 1.3.2023

Travelling to our final destination (Stockholm city centre) did not go without hassle (wrong gate at the airport, delays with the commuter train to the city centre, trouble figuring out the venue etc., BC would've been proud!) but everything did work out eventually and we were in good spirits! 🥰

Speaking of the venue, I think none of us would've foreseen that listening to that one song in 2021 would lead us to hang out in the backyard of some random school in Stockholm, but that's where we were, and had good laughs there too :') <3

The venue was small intimate and not full, which to us in the audience was great (it wasn't cramped nor too hot), although for BC's sake I would've hoped there would've been a little bigger turn-up (especially considering at least half of the audience were Finnish fans 😂). They didn't seem to mind though; the show was as 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 as their shows always are

But before I talk about the show, I must once more advertise the support act! Not gonna lie, I had a minor heart attack when hours before the gig, BC posted an IG story starting with the words "due to an illness...", because them cancelling the gig would've been just the cherry on the top of the day we had had already, but it thankfully was Eyes Wide Open that had had to cancel at last minute. A band called Those Without was asked to fill in and boy am I thankful for the universe for this!! 😭🙏 They were so damn good!! I remember listening to their first song and going "huh! this ain't that bad actually" and wondering if it's just that one song, but no, all the other ones they played were great as well, which made me so happy 💖 It was a little funny when the band came on though; they just walked to the stage very unceremoniously and we weren't quite sure whether they were still doing the preperations until they started playing 😂 The singer was cute af, the bassist sang a bit, they were so chill and SO GRATEFUL to be there and just kept thanking BC for this opportunity and us the audience for being so nice to them, and all I wanted to scream was "no, thank YOU!!" because they really made my little punk pop/rock heart burst with love 🥺 If you're into early Mayday Parade / The Maine / Yellowcard -esque stuff, definitely check them out!

Blind Channel was Blind Channel, meaning they were wonderful amazing brilliant and it was great seeing them again 💞 We were ~4th row, there were a few tall people directly in front of us but at least I ended up having a great view to the stage in the end. The stage was high enough and close enough to the audience for me to be able to see their tattoos in detail and I remember admiring Joel's heart tattoo and Olli's three swords (god bless the inventor of sleeveless shirts eh? 🥵)

Random moments I remember include Olli falling asleep/zoning out during Autopsy (he didn't look up at the "HEY!!" part, or maybe he just forgot 😂 (I have video proof lol)) and Joel doing the tiniest snake dance during Snake (it looked like he wasn't going to do it, but then he couldn't help himself, I hope someone captured this 🥺🙏) + the moments in the videos I've posted

They're all so gorgeous but Olli 😩😩😩😩😩 he's so fucking beautiful I have a scheduled meltdown about it on a normal day, but during the show it's just 💦💦💦💦💦💦 all the time 💀 he trousers he was wearing were so tight cool and the sleeveless shirt had me by the pussy swooning 🫠

Flatline is awesome live, including the silly dance, even if in the audience you can't do it as "big" as you're supposed to. No bruise on my left tiddy though, I guess it takes more than one concert for one to appear, so BC should maybe consider wearing some padding on their chests for that 😆👀

After the gig we had an "after party" in a rock bar somewhere in Stockholm (not sure which district). I think here it's relevant to mention that in the queue there was this nice Swedish metal dude standing behind us and probably unwillingly listening to us as we were speaking a merry mix of English and Finnish, and eventually he started chatting with us and ended up joining us inside the venue and even showing us the way to one of his favourite bars when we asked for recs and he also came in for a few drinks with us despite having work the next day (he had also been at the venue the day before to see Sleeping With Sirens and was still wearing the same makeup from that gig 😂👌)

At the same bar there was also Henrik from Amaranthe (who none of us would've recognized if the Swedish metal dude hadn't started fangirling about him 😂)

All in all I had such a fun time on this 24-hour trip and I'm so happy I decided to go. Some of you know how stressed out I was about it; I'm so thankful to anyone who had to listen to me rant my heart out about it. I'm happy to tell you that the experience I had was totally worth it <3

Thank you so incerdibly much to all you guys who were with me at any point of this trip, it wouldn't have been the same without you (you all know who you are <3). Sorry if I was obnoxious or laughed too loudly, but I had such a shit weekend behind me and I was just so happy to get to see my favourite band and to hang out with all of you lovely people that I couldn't contain my excitement. Being there really meant so much to me, because this band and the community we have built around it truly is one of the few lights at the end of the never-ending tunnel I often get lost in. I know this sounds silly and I'm probably being selfish but it made me so sad when BC said they won't be doing that many shows in Finland this summer. Yes, I completely understand that they're aiming for an international career and I'm fully supporting their plans to take over the world (I'm not one of those Finnish fans), and yes, I am aware that as a Finnish fan I'm immensely priviledged as it is and that I've had many more opportunities to see them than most fans living elsewhere have had. This may sound pathetic (or at least I feel pathetic about it), but I really don't have much else going on for me other than BC and everything related to it (nothing that gives me as much serotonin, that is), and if I don't get to see them next summer... I don't know what I'll do. Summers are a bit difficult for me for a variety of reasons, and last summer with all the BC shows was such a blessing, a wonderful distraction from my sad life and the fact that I'm nowhere near where I want to be, and I'm not sure if I can handle another lonely, grey summer and feeling like a failure every waking moment after having experienced all the fun last summer 💔

...so I guess I'm going on a road-trip around Europe next summer 🤔 Who's with me? 😌

[inkmemes]

young  royals  (  2021  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  netflix’s  swedish  ya  drama.  non-contextual  spoilers.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  sexual  activity,  drugs,  alcohol,  death,  implied  internalised  homophobia,  bullying.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“at least you can stay for a cup of coffee?”

“hey, wait up. did you sleep together?” 

“he's probably making out with someone. forget it.”

“i can't take it anymore.”

“what are you doing?”

“and he had to finish your sentence. what's going on? you like him.”

“every time you see your dad, you get all depressed.”

“you're still here, so obviously you must want something.”

“are you high? what the hell are you on?”

“does this make you horny?” 

“i like [town name], but i don't want to live here forever.”

“you can leave now. go home. i'm staying here for the weekend.”

“do you want chocolate?”

“how do you feel?” 

“it's kind of hard to tell them apart, you know.” 

“you're a worthless drunk.”

“you … you need to figure out what you want. and you can take all the time you need. and i respect that. but you have to do it by yourself. i don't want to be anyone's secret.”

“you have to stop pretending that you're not afraid.”

“that's the thing, i just don't want that.”

“it's something new. something fresh.”

“can we talk privately for a minute?” 

“and if anyone gives you a hard time, you know, just let me know, and i'll take care of it.” 

“you do know you don't need to hide?” 

“are you gonna let us in?”

“promise to let me know if there's anything i can do.”

“hey, we won't go blind from your moonshine, right?”

“i'm just getting a good vibe. that's all.”

“you're so fucking pathetic.”

“you realize that this will have consequences?”

“he's such a fucking idiot.”

“i wanted us to have a few minutes alone.”

“when you're young, love feels like the most important thing in the world.” 

“i really like you.”

“felt like i had to rescue you from that situation.”

“it got so damn hot in there, i thought i'd get some fresh air.”

“you are allowed your own opinions. it's cool.”

“i've seen the way you look at each other.”

“here, this one is a little big for me, but i think it'll look great on you.”

“do you think royal dick is different than regular?”

“you're the only one here i feel i can actually talk to.” 

“i haven't heard anything yet, but i'll tell you as soon as i do.”

“you can't just lie here jerking off.”

“i don't want to go to some fucking boarding school!”

“i've missed this place so much.”

“are you going to horror movie night on friday?”

“but i like you. and that is not fake.”

“you don't need to share everything.”

“we should go to a concert again sometime.”

“you're fucking crazy!”

“where have you been? i've been trying to reach you.”

“just don't use the school's wi-fi for porn surfing. could be embarrassing.”

“but no matter what, they can't dictate what you say.”

“sorry about last night.”

“i don't want to talk to you!”

“i don't wanna sound like an idiot.”

“i was thinking, would you like to have a sleepover at my place? because that's something friends do. it's going to be really cozy.”

“i think maybe we should forget about that.”

“you can't really see that it is you.”

“i mean, it could be anyone. it's so fucking stupid.”

“i don't want to say anything.” 

“now you're doing it again. you're trying to take care of me.” 

“i can take it, it's okay.”

“that's not true. i haven't spoken to my parents.”

“we haven't done anything wrong.”

“you're beautiful! you're so beautiful.”

“i'm gay, [name].”

“seriously? what the fuck is your problem?”

“you keep letting people piss on you!”

“i just assumed you didn't want special treatment.”

“keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“so you thought you'd start spreading false rumours without having any proof?” 

“i just didn't want to lose you.”

“uh, there's pizza left if you want some.”

“everybody thinks you're perfect. you know that, right?”

“he's just been outed.”

“i'm going to fuck this up.”

“he bloody ruined my fucking life!”

“why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?”

“hi. sorry, i was feeling a bit better. so i thought it was okay that i hung out with some friends.”

"everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want.”

“i woke up in my own bed. that's always something.”

“could i just have one second? just one second alone, please?”

“i’m sorry. but it was, like, the only way.”

“i thought, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“i'm sorry about the mess. i wasn't expecting such distinguished company.”

“i just don't want you to be treated badly again.”

“oh, fuck.”

“you don't even… aren't you even gonna answer me?”

“i didn't know that one was supposed to sign up.”

“in real life, you don't pay to get ahead.”

“and what the fuck does your dad do?”

“let's try to have some table manners.”

“it's, like, really serious.”

“who the hell can live like this for three fucking years?”

“that's what happens when you buy the cheap ones.”

“i need your help with something. ”

“being a prince is not a punishment, but a privilege.”

“it's awesome to just chill out.”

“or maybe he lied about that too. what do i know?”

“you have to give people a chance.”

“you have to try to see it from my perspective.” 

“what the hell's this?”

“what happened to "we should forget about it"?”

“stop being so fucking stubborn and try to understand my situation.”

“sometimes it's better not to say everything.” 

“i was just bored.”

“have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“sometimes it's better to keep quiet.”

“can i get you some coffee?”

“nobody else cares about these things.”

“i lost track of time.”

“everybody does the same things and everybody knows everybody.”

“thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

“remember when he came up to us the first week and was like, "what's up?"”

“i need you to delete all our texts.”

“i can't keep doing this anymore.”

“are you gonna let them go on with their bullshit?”

“i want to be with you.”

“here's a blanket, a pillow, and bed sheets. there you go.”

“okay, yeah. you don't seem to have grasped what i'm trying to say.”

“it's usually boring as hell.”

“he's been dealing to us for months.”

“i don't want to talk to him.”

“don't you wanna date [name] anymore?”

“i don't know why he's started texting me again. he knows i don't want anything to do with him.” 

“yeah, we had a shitload of drugs.”

“we could murder someone, and nobody would say a word.”

“she needs some fun.”

“he's just doing it to fuck with me.”

“it's such a weird question.”

“i just wanted to say hi. i don't believe we've met. ”

“but i still want us to be friends.”

“if i were to stay here… would you… like to keep me company? just you and me.”

“everything's, like, upside down now.”

“have you always lived here?”

“damn it. sorry. shit. i completely forgot.”

“i'm sure someone has a story to tell.”

“you've got to put yourself first. i mean, no matter what he thinks about it.”

“come on! you can't just sit there stuck in your room.”

“you can snuggle up in my safe arms if it gets scary.”

“i want to live a normal life.”

“let me have a look. you can hardly see it.”

“any other dick that's been sucked?”

“you just expect everything to be on your terms.”

“i want to know everything!”

“you don't have to go there. i'll take care of myself.”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” 

“i'll just stay in and go to bed early.”

“thanks for explaining the schedule.”

“i'd rather die.”

“i don't want you to be mad.”

“promise to tell me if something is wrong.”

“i can't be dressed like this if you're dressed like that.” 

“it's really complicated.”

“it feels like you don't care what people think about you, or if you have a lot of friends and stuff.” 

“nobody asked you to come. feel free to leave if you want.”

“well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this!” 

“there isn't so much to do around here.”

“you've become such a snob.”

“i know you're only trying to help me.” 

“do you like it here?”

“i don't wanna go in there. we're not even invited. fuck this.”

“don't you think it's weird [name] invited us to come?”

“if they hadn't been here, would you've, uh, made out with me?”

“so, you're an actual proper couple now?”

“you're thinking about someone else.”

“you're right. we're doing this together.”

“thanks… for nothing.”

“why are you even so obsessed with him?”

“i want you to hold me.”

“call me when you want to be picked up.”

“what the fuck do you care?” 

“i don't think we're a couple or anything. i don't know what it is.”

“you never asked me!”

“your focus should be on comforting me so that i can comfort him.” 

“it's not that hard. you have to be able to keep up appearances.”

“famous people make videos like that.”

“maybe somebody forgot to tell me, as usual.”

“just make a move on [name] and show him what you want.”

“you wanna stay a while and jam?”

“have you talked to your parents about it?”

“a diverse bunch of losers, who'll never amount to anything.”

“why can't i decide how the hell i want to live?”

“apparently, i'm the only one who doesn't know everybody.”

“i used to have straight a's on every test.”

“it will damage our reputation.”

“i'm fucking starving.”

“why is it called tax "evasion" but welfare "scam"? it's all right that rich people cheat, but when poor people do it, it's messed up. for rich people, it's not even called "welfare”, it's called "deduction."”

“what the fuck is rowing?”

“what the hell have you done, [name]?”

“good voice, man.”

“why can't i just have a relationship with him?”

“did you have fun last friday?”

“all the people are fake. they're made out of metal.”

what do you want me to say? i'm sorry!”

“is this some kind of prank?”

“i like you when you are yourself!”

“but you like him, don't you?”

“she shouldn't talk to you like that.”

“are you into him?”

“something's not right, i think we should head back to the road.”

“do you have trouble sleeping?”

“doesn't anyone care what i want?”

“just don't tell anyone that i've been here.”

“i was going to text you back, but…”

“your only mistake was that you hung out with the wrong kind of people.”

“i just wanted to help.”

“i know you'll use anything to get high or drunk.” 

“it's time to stop being so selfish.”

“i just want my fucking money.”

“you should've planned ahead. didn't you bring a sandwich?” 

“who the fuck wants to be normal anyway?”

“you fucking told me you were the one i could always come to!”

“i take it back.”

“i can see there's something going on.”

“i have to finish getting ready, so if you could please leave.”

“no one likes me when i'm myself.” 

“i hope you have a nice christmas.”

“i'm gonna do the wrong things, say the wrong things.”

“my mom is gonna kill me.”

“do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“i cannot be dragged into this.”

“i like you too.”

“you're no longer a part of my family.”

“it's well-suited for smaller people.”

“i assume that he thought that it would make him popular.”

“i didn't ask for this!”

“it's no problem. i like doing it.”

“it feels like i'm gonna throw up.”

“don't i get any breakfast?”

“whatever i do, i can't do anything right.”

“we haven't been to any party whatsoever.”

“did you get my texts?”

“i think it sounds romantic.”

“uh, wait, you have to come to the horror movie night on friday.”

“i liked what you said in there, [name].”

“okay, maybe he used to be a player, but love can actually change you.”

“it's nice to make an effort and dress up for dinner.” 

“i'm in a fucked-up situation and i'm trying to talk to you.” 

“you don't understand. i was gonna pay it.”

“you're not that kind of guy.”

“i was about to go outside and, um, do you wanna come with?”

“what about me?” 

“it was… okay, i guess.”

“can i sit with you?”

“you call this a scary movie?”

“i have a million things to take care of, i don't have time to talk to you.”

“have you lost it completely?”

“but i'm starving.”

“this past year has been difficult for me.”

“i don't get it. she's making it into such a big deal.”

“no, this won't work. just take it off, please.” 

“i'm not like that.”

“fuck you. it's not a crush.”

“then i know that i can't count on you.”

“can't you come see me in [town] sometime?”

“it's just that we can't be seen together.” 

“he was still sleeping when i walked in.”

“doesn't bother me at all. i've seen it. absolutely. 100%.”

“[name] is really getting on my nerves! seriously.”

“i want us to be friends again.”

“i thought you and [name] were friends.”

“make sure you check your dms. okay?”

“you think it's fun to fuck with people like me?”

“never spend money you don't have. okay?”

“you think i'm stupid?”

“this sucks.” 

“how nice to see some smiles.”

“this isn't just about me, but my entire family.”

“i'm going to marry her.”

“are you threatening me?”

“don't you realize the shit storm that follows if i come out?” 

“i don't want you to talking to her.”

“remember what we saw during movie night? when they sat next to each other?”

“i love you.”

“i just want to hang out with you.”

"there's no point in having a back-up if you never use it."

“pretend i'm saying something clever.”

“how's [name]? he must be totally devastated.”

“what do you think they think we're talking about?”

“everything is fake. everything in the world is fake.”

“[name] is dead.”

“it just wasn't what i thought it would be like.”

“since when did you start liking him for real?” 

“what a fucking douchebag. god!”

“what the hell are you saying? chill out!”

[five-rivers]

Beltane

Written for Ectober 2021 Day 1: Trick vs Treat. This is part of the Exhumed series.

.

Danny Fenton walked into the precinct. As often happened when he did this, all attention slowly turned to him. “Hi, Detective Patterson. Have you ever heard of Beltane?”

Patterson took a long swig of coffee through the plastic stir straw, because she felt the need to be at least a little drugged before dealing with whatever this was, and then said, “Is this the kind of thing the whole precinct needs to know about, or is it more specific to me?”

“Mm, not specific to you, but I’m not sure if everyone needs to know about it, yet.”

Despite only select members of the Amity Park police force knowing Danny Fenton had another identity, he’d become a sort of ‘ghost liaison’ for the precinct. Better him than the adult Fentons, who tended to break things even (especially) when they were being careful.

“Actually,” continued Danny, “you might have already noticed some things about it. I mean, it’s seasonal, and Mom and Dad were detecting ectoenergy and ghost activity spikes for events like this before they got the portal up and running. Although, the portal was supposed to stabilize and reduce those spikes… I guess reducing one isn’t bad?”

“Okay,” said Patterson. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about. Do you want me to go find Collins?”

“Oh, that might be a good idea.”

“Great,” said Patterson. She turned her head to shout across the room. “McGee. Go find Collins.”

“Still the new guy?” asked Danny, sympathetically.

“It isn’t like we’re a popular posting,” said Patterson, “and, thanks to the ghosts, we don’t really need new people.”

Danny nodded placidly. “I know. But it must be hard for him, don’t you think?”

.

McGee had done his job. He’d discovered the corruption in the Amity Park Police Department and plumbed its depths. The problem was that he could never, ever, report it. Even if they didn’t have a perfectly good cause for it all, what they were ‘hiding’ (and they were only barely doing that) was so ridiculous that McGee had thought he’d gone crazy at first.

Ghosts.

The whole of Amity Park was haunted. Just like it said in those touristy brochures at the front of the local diners.

He stuck his head into the break room. “Collins, Patterson and Fenton want you,” he said.

“In the normal room?” Collins asked, shoving a sugary monstrosity of a donut into his mouth.

“I have no idea. She didn’t say.”

“Normal room then. Great job, McGee.”

McGee rolled his eyes. Great job, he said. As if he’d done anything.

God. What would Halloween be like?

.

“So, it’s like, reverse Halloween?” asked Patterson.

“Well, not exactly,” said Danny. He patted Daisy, the department mascot slash corpse sniffing dog who had followed them into the small interview room, gently on the head. “Actually, there are more similarities than differences. Basically, like Halloween, we’re going to get a spike in ectoenergy. Maybe even some ectoplasmic storms. More portals. That kind of thing.” He shrugged. “Most holidays and seasonal divisions have them, you know.”

“So… we’re getting Halloween round two?” asked Collins.

“What do you bet that this is what gets McGee to snap?”

“He’s been here since December,” said Collins. “I think he’s too stubborn to leave.”

“Is he still spying?” asked Danny.

“No,” said Patterson, waving a hand. “He gave up on that, after a while. But there’s a new office bet about whether or not he’ll stay stay, or if he’ll decide to quit. We’re not allowed to join in because we know him too well.”

“Mm,” said Danny.

“I don’t actually know if I feel like I know him that well,” said Collins.

“Well,” said Danny, “it shouldn’t be as extreme as Halloween. Since, I mean, there aren’t as many religious holidays directly associated with death and stuff happening on or around May first. So. Yeah. But the thing is, there are some traditional, er, activities. Spirited activities.”

Collins suppressed a groan, and was glad that Captain Jones wasn’t available today. He and Danny could sling puns at each other for obscenely long periods of time.

“I’ve never noticed ghosts doing anything on May Day,” said Patterson.

“This is only the third year anyone’s even acknowledged that ghosts exist,” said Danny, “so I’m not really all that surprised. But the reason that I came to talk to you guys is that some of the ghosts want to do Beltane stuff. Like the fire blessings. Also, I’ve been told that some of the trees in town are secretly ghost trees, and if we don’t want to deal with another tree army, we need to do some stuff to appease them.”

“Secret ghost trees.”

“My source is very reliable,” said Danny. “Also, while I say ‘we don’t want to deal with it,’ I think we all know who’d be dealing with most of it.”

“You would,” said Patterson.

“Got it in one. Like, I can convince most of the ghosts to either do their Beltane stuff in the Ghost Zone, or somewhere out of the way. They’ll be disappointed, but I can do it. The ghost tree thing, though…”

“Can’t we just, I don’t know,” said Collins, “get rid of the ghost trees?”

“Well, they aren’t really evil ghost trees. Or even really ghost trees. They’re more… ghosts that live in trees?”

“What, like dryads?” asked Collins, raising his eyebrows.

“That’s what I said, but they’re different species, apparently.”

“Okay,” said Patterson, “so. Appeasing the trees. How many trees are we talking about here, and how are we going to appease them?”

.

“Okay, so, this is definitely a whole precinct kind of thing,” said Patterson.

“And possibly an ‘all civil servants’ type of thing,” added Collins. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are we going to get the funding for this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about money,” said Danny. “I’ll just blackmail Vlad, and if that doesn’t work, I can get Mom and Dad to pay for it.”

“What,” said Collins.

“I think this might be a bit beyond your parents’ budget,” said Patterson, “but knock yourself out as far as Masters goes.”

“Well, I guess if it is,” he allowed, dubiously, “I could get the cults to pitch in?”

.

“This is nice,” said Danny. The sky was a bit overcast, which was a shame, but the hundreds of bright flowers and cheerful music more than made up for that.

The May Day celebration was, in Danny’s opinion, a success. At least, this half of it was turning out to be. He’d have to wait and see how the Spirit Bonfires went tonight before he could really make a judgement.

He’d only had to blackmail Vlad a little, too. It turned out that the ‘ruthless businessman’ in Vlad was ludicrously easy to manipulate, and once Danny brought up how a celebration like this one could revitalize local businesses and bring in tourism, he’d caved.

Although, that might have been the threat of an angry tree army. Vlad had definitely come off worse for wear in the last one, on all fronts.

Then, publically putting the Phantom Stamp of Approval (and Necessity Given The Potential Angry Tree Army) on the event had gotten buy-in from his fans and (sigh) the cults. The cults were, in fact, very enthusiastic about their new Holy Day. Danny had made a map of all the places they’d set up booths, and was studiously avoiding them.

Sam and Tucker were doing a walkthrough of that area, now, to check for problems and unadorned thorn trees. They’d arranged to meet up soon.

So, Amity Park was decked out in ribbons and flowers. All of the schools had gotten Maypoles and the day off of classes. Several bands, both human and ghostly, were playing in different parts of town.

It was chaotic, but great.

Danny briefly cut into the street to dodge a pair of college-age men play-fighting with tree branches (a genuinely important tradition symbolizing the battle between winter and summer), then walked through a wall to avoid two ghosts doing the same thing.

Finally, he reached Madame Babazita’s table.

“Hi,” he said, “three readings, please.”

“Three?” she asked. “Just for you?”

“My friends should get here before mine’s done,” said Danny. Was he channeling some predictive powers? Maybe. Holidays did make his powers weird.

.

“I have no idea what your reading is saying,” said Madame Babazita, after fifteen full minutes. “The cards simply aren���t speaking to me today. Also,” she held up an Uno card, “I’m not sure how this even got here.”

“That’s okay,” said Danny, “I just wanted to make sure it was the same as last time.”

.

“Hey! Phantom!” called Ember across the crowd of ghosts that had gathered in the cemetery. Most of them were fire or nature themed. “You’re in for a treat!”

Danny, who had been examining the flowers left on his grave, looked up. “I am?”

Ember draped her arm around Danny’s shoulder. She’d been a lot more friendly with him since the corpse incident. “Sure are.” She stepped up onto the surface of his memorial, pulling him up behind her. Danny shook off a brief chill and looked around.

Ghosts were streaming into the cemetery from various directions, bringing armfuls of flowers with them. Danny could see two, huge bonfire piles of flowers growing near the cemetery gates.

“Are there going to be cows?” asked Danny, who was still fuzzy on the details of the ghostly side of the celebrations.

“I don’t know,” said Ember. “When I’ve seen this done in the GZ there are. Here? Who knows. Maybe we’ll just walk through.”

Danny nodded, unworried. Beltane sure was an interesting holiday.

The last armful of flowers was placed, and every flower in the cemetery caught on fire at once. Including the ones on Danny’s grave. Danny yelped, jumping into flight. As an ice core ghost, he vastly preferred cold to heat.

This went without saying, but fire was very hot.

Ember grabbed his foot, and he almost kicked her. “You knew that was going to happen,” he accused.

“Sure did, babypop,” said Ember, grinning. “Come on, don’t you want to pass through the bonfires?”

Danny eyed the very large bonfires on either side of the cemetery gates. They were lit up with sparks like fireworks, shifting like flowers blooming and withering and blooming again. They were beautiful and impressive, and Danny felt like melting just by looking at them.

“I don’t know…” He wanted to, but… melting…

“Well, if you want to go out the other way and be horribly unlucky for the next year…”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Is that another trick?” he asked.

Ember’s grin grew wider, and she took off towards the gates. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Danny sighed and followed her.

.

“Unbelievable,” said McGee. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He gave the elderly cultist a boost into the wagon.

“I know, right?” said Patterson. “All this property damage and a low-key kidnapping,” she gestured to the hapless late night partier who had called the police when the cult got too insistent about their message, “and they didn’t even have the good drugs?” She shook her head. “Not that we ever arrest anyone just for drugs in this town.”

“I did not just hear you say that,” muttered McGee.

“We’ll make an Amity Parker out of you yet,” said Collins, heartily, slamming the back door of the wagon. He thumbed the button on his radio. “Any other disturbances?” he asked.

“No, you’re good to come back,” said the dispatcher.

“What I don’t get,” said McGee, leaning against a nearby wall in a moment of weakness, “is why we aren’t breaking up whatever cult thing is happening in the cemetery.” They’d seen it quite clearly on their way here.

“Because those are ghosts,” said Patterson.

McGee took a deep breath. “The ghosts are having some kind of ritual in the cemetery, and you aren’t worried.”

“Not really, no.”

“I hate it here,” said McGee.

“Do you, though?” asked Collins, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.

McGee opened his mouth to snap back that, yes, he did. But…

Hm. Huh.

Collins patted him on the back.