#settled? but i can't settle if it's not the right set up but i have to minutely tweak the set up until it's right but it so rarely is.

[deansbeer]

✷ ◟ ECHOES OF DESIRE ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. you never expected to hear dean's thoughts this clearly—especially not when they're about you in the most unexpected way.

WARNING(S). mentions of masturbation | f!reader | overwhelming thoughts | telepathy | physical sensations triggered by another person's thoughts | heavy unresolved romantic/sexual tension | mutual pining | awkwardness | emotional vulnerability | telepath!reader | older!dean | reader is in her mid twenties | light jealousy (man gets jealous of a bunny. wild, huh? believe me, i know.) | tension-filled misunderstandings | new unexplained ability reader develops.

KARI'S NOTES. ignore the fact that my blog is a mess of things & i've changed the layout for my fics many times :) can this also be considered an early bday gift for dean ??? i have a lil something planned for his special day but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is somewhat cutesy ig lol + tiny disclaimer <3 the photos above r used solely for aesthetic purposes !!!!

it's late in the bunker—the kind of silence that feels heavy, pressing against your ears as you sit alone in the library. sam and dean have both retreated to their rooms for the night, finally giving in to the exhaustion that comes with long hunts and endless research. but you? you're wide awake, as usual, hunched over a pile of lore books with your bunny, bolt, nibbling on hay in a little pile you set out for him. the faint sound of his chewing and the occasional rustle of paper are the only things breaking the stillness.

you pop another blue peanut m&m into your mouth, the faint crunch grounding you as your eyes scan the faded text in front of you. you're so close—so damn close—to deciphering the last piece of this puzzle for their next case. you can feel it right there, just out of reach, the answer dancing at the edge of your mind.

but then, like a radio station suddenly switching frequencies, you hear it.

someone's thoughts.

you pause mid-bite, your jaw tightening as you inwardly groan. who the hell is thinking this loud so late at night?

it's not unusual for you to pick up on stray thoughts; it's part of being a telepath. but this? this is loud. intrusive. like someone shouting directly into your brain. you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to block it out, to focus on the task at hand. you've gotten good at tuning people out over the years, but some thoughts are harder to ignore than others.

you shake your head, turning the page of the lore book in front of you, determined to push through the distraction. but the thoughts don't stop. they keep coming, louder and more insistent, like waves crashing against the shore.

and then you realize something.

these thoughts… they're familiar.

at first, you think it's sam. he has a tendency to overthink even in his sleep, his dreams sometimes bleeding into his waking thoughts. but no, this isn't sam. his mind is quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with deep, dreamless sleep.

it has to be dean.

your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat as the realization settles in.

dean.

you grip the edge of the table, your fingers curling tightly around the wood as his thoughts flood your mind. he's begging. it's desperate, raw, like he's pleading for something he can't have. but it's not just his words—his emotions are pouring through, too, overwhelming you with their intensity.

your chest tightens, your heartbeat quickening to match his. there's a strange knot forming in your lower abdomen, a heat that spreads through your body, and you have to clutch at your stomach to steady yourself. biting down on your bottom lip, you try to hold back the whimper threatening to escape.

he's calling your name. not out loud, but in his mind. over and over, like a prayer.

and then it happens—something that's never happened to you before.

you see through his eyes.

for a moment, you're no longer in the library. you're somewhere else entirely, looking through dean's gaze as he lies in bed. your breath hitches as you take in the scene before you: his hand, moving with a rough, almost frantic rhythm over himself, and in the other hand?

a polaroid.

your polaroid.

it's a picture he took of you during one of your outings, the sunlight making your skin glow as you posed for a photo. you remember the moment vividly—how he insisted on taking the photo despite your protests, how he teased you about how good you looked in your little dress.

and now he's using it.

you let out a tiny gasp, the sound startling bolt, who looks up at you with wide, curious eyes. you're back in the library now, your cheeks burning as you try to process what you just saw.

dean. was. masturbating. to. your. photo.

you shake your head, trying to banish the image from your mind, but it's too late. it's seared into your memory, the raw need in his thoughts still lingering like an echo.

you don't get much sleep after that.

the next morning, you're in the kitchen, trying to shake off the haze from the night before. bolt sits at your feet, munching on his breakfast as you make yourself a cup of coffee. you're dressed in one of your favorite nightgowns, a tiny blue satin thing with lace trimming, paired with a matching silk robe. it's comfortable, soft against your skin, and you don't think much about it as you move around the kitchen.

you're lost in thought, replaying everything from the night before, when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. you turn, startled, and there he is.

dean.

he's rubbing his tired eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction, and his t-shirt clings to his chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare. he doesn't say anything at first, just grunts in acknowledgment as he heads for the coffee pot, but you can feel the tension radiating off him.

"morning," you say, your voice light, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

"mornin'," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

you take a seat at the table, bolt hopping onto your lap as you sip your coffee. dean follows a moment later, his eyes flicking to the bunny and then to you.

"does he have to sit on your lap?" he grumbles, though the jealousy in his thoughts is loud and clear.

you can't help but smirk. "why are you so jealous of a bunny?”

his eyes narrow, and he shoots you a pointed look. "stay out of my head, sweetheart."

but you're not about to let him off that easily. setting your coffee down, you lean forward slightly, your gaze locking onto his.

"how come you were begging for me last night?"

he freezes, his jaw tightening as his eyes widen. for a moment, he looks like a deer caught in headlights, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i don't know what you're talkin' about," he says quickly, his voice stiff as he avoids your gaze.

you frown, not buying his act for a second. "dean."

he tries to deflect, asking you something about the research you were doing last night, but you're not letting this go.

"don't lie to me," you say softly, your voice firm. "i know what i heard. i know what i felt."

his cheeks flush, a rare sight that only makes you more determined. but DEAN WINCHESTER is nothing if not stubborn, and he's not about to admit what you already know.

two idiots in love, too afraid to take the leap.

and yet, the truth lingers in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites @t3l3vangelism . . . ☆

[dirtyyoungthingg]

its been a long day. between school and extracurriculars, i am exhausted and stressed. i need a release. bad.

what better way to relieve my stress than fucking myself silly?

i walk into my bedroom, already smiling thanks to the plan my sweet little brain came up with. my smile drops when i realize you're sitting on my bed.

next to my toys.

"d-dad...--"

"what the fuck are these, hm?" you gesture to the two toys on the bed. i immediately shrink into myself, embarrassed.

"...dunno...."

"dont play dumb with me." you stand and grab a fistful of my hair, bringing my gaze up to meet yours. you glance back over at the toys. "do you even know how to use those?" nervously, i nod.

"i-i'm a big girl."

you can't help but smile a little. "yeah?" you throw me down onto the bed. "show dad. let me see you be a big girl, and maybe i'll let you keep these." i scramble onto my back, my heart pounding in my ears as i try to wrap my brain around whats happening.

my dad wants to watch me fuck myself.... my thighs squeeze together as you settle onto the foot of the bed. you tut at me and place your hands on my knees.

"don't be shy now. its nothing i havent seen before." your mind flashes back to our special bathtimes. how you loved catching glimpses of my sweet little pussy underneath the bubbles. how you'd use your special soap on me, as long as i didnt tell anyone.

"but dad--"

you spread my legs open suddenly, my skirt raising to show off my printed pink panties. "shut the fuck up. take those off." my face is flushed as i comply, sliding out of my panties. you grab them from me and bring them to your nose. "god... you always smell so good." i shiver at the cold air hitting my wet cunt. you set the panties down and reach to rub your thumb lightly against my sweet little pussy lips. your other hand moves to grab the first toy, a small bullet vibrator. you smile at it for a moment. "where'd you get this guy, huh?"

"th-the mall... one of the stores sells stuff like that in the back..." you turn it on, and a small but consistent buzzing sound fills the air. you raise your eyebrows as you click it back off.

"not bad." you press it into my hands. "go on. show me how you use it."

i feel dizzy, nervous. this is wrong, you shouldnt be making me do this. and yet, i'm so wet, and i was planning on playing with myself anyway... maybe its not so bad that dad's here.... i bite my lower lip as i turn the small vibe back on and begin to run it over my little pussy lips. a breath catches in my throat when i brush over my swollen clit. you take another deep breath from my panties as you watch, palming yourself through your pants. i press the vibe to my clit as i watch. "g-god... dad...."

"thaaaaat's right baby. just like that." you unbuckle your belt and pull your cock out, wrapping the soft pink fabric of my panties around the length of it as you begin to pump your cock with your fist. the sight is making me lightheaded with lust. i squirm as the vibrator presses harder onto my clit, letting out a moan. "good girl..."

you glance over at the other toy, a sizable dildo. you grab it with your other hand and look down at my glistening cunt. so small and sweet... "...can you even fit this in that sweet little hole, baby?"

i sheepishly look away, shaking my head no. "so-sometimes if i try i can get it halfway in, but it really hurts..." you can't help but laugh a little.

"you just need daddy's help, baby." you grab the vibrator and click it off. i can't help but whimper a little and squirm at the lack of touch. you smile. "turn over, raise that cute little ass up for me." i comply, rolling over onto my stomach and putting my ass up in the air. my skirt from school is still on, and you have to slide it up so you can get to my bare ass. yet another reminder that i'm your daughter, your baby... you shouldn't be doing this... and yet you continue.

you use the head of the dildo and lazily drag it over my opening, humming softly as you see the wetness that collects on the toy. "you're so wet... i'm sure we could fit this in if we tried. you're a big girl, right? thats why you have these toys?" i nod, too flustered to really speak.

"i-i'm a big girl..."

"that's right baby. you're a big girl. and that's why you're gonna take all of this, deep inside your sweet little kiddo cunt." you press the toy into me, slowly, working it in and out of my pussy bit by bit. my eyes screw shut as i whine. i'm still just so tight, so small... you bite your lower lip in concentration as you press the dildo even further inside me suddenly. i gasp and try to squirm away. it's too much, too deep...! i am met with a swift slap on my ass that makes me yelp and causes tears to spring from my eyes.

"ah-ah. that's enough of that, young lady." your tone is gruff, and makes me shudder inwardly. you manhandle me back into the proper position. "you wanted to be a big girl. owning these toys, fucking yourself with them. acting like such a whore. you're lucky this is how i'm choosing to correct this behavior." you smack the other cheek to punctuate your point. "i could've just thrown you down, raped you right here." you begin to thrust the dildo in and out of my cunt quickly, ignoring my pleas for you to stop. "coulda just taken everything ive ever wanted. your mouth, your pussy, your ass..."

i'm sobbing at this point as you relentlessly fuck me with the toy. "coulda treated you like the whore you are. traipsing around with those little skirts, those tiny tops that leave nothing to your father's imagination, much less anyone elses." you've driven the toy all the way into me at this point. i'm crying, my brain overloaded from pain and pleasure.

"t-too m-much--! p-please, stop!"

"shut the fuck up." you use your free hand to press my face into the pillows. "god, do you ever stop talking?" the toys pace is too much. you notice how much i'm clenching around it. "and look at that. you're close. you can't be having that bad of a time if you're that close to cumming while your dad plays with you how he sees fit." my cries are muffled by the pillows as i beg you over and over to stop, please god stop, it's too much.

"no, baby. i'm not gonna stop. not until you cum all over your special big girl toy for daddy. c'mon, i know you want to. you know you want to. cum for me. cum for dad."

and just like that, the dizzying feeling reaches its peak. i cum with the toy deep inside me, my sweet cries ringing out as i throw my head back. you slow your movements down until you stop.

"that's my girl." you slide the dildo out of my cunt. "i knew you could do it. and look at that! you took the whole thing! such a big girl for daddy, such a good girl."

i'm too much of a dazed mess to fight you off as you slide your pants down and position yourself over me. you line your cock up with my twitching cunt, humming softly.

"now i get to show you that you don't need those silly toys. all a girl needs is her father."

[witherby]

ALREADY?? UH, PRAYING FOR YOU!!! YEAH YOU CAN DO THIS!! Let the voices win frfr. . .

Can't wait to read it... Mweheheh..

★🍋‍🟩

Mother Hen, A/B/O Edition

Or: the one where Hal reminds the Batfamily they are loved in little ways.

"Mornin, Alfred," Hal yawned, barely conscious as he shuffled into the dining room.

"Good morning, master Hal," Alfred greeted. He watched Hal slowly sink into a chair and placed his food in front of him. "Drink options this morning are fresh-squeezed orange juice, a fruit smoothie, or a glass of milk."

"Hmm..." Hal blinked heavily and gently grabbed Alfred's arm before the beta would withdraw from setting his plate down. He brought his wrist to his face and gingerly nosed it, breathing in the scent of jasmine tea with a tired smile. "Um...Juice s'fine...thanks a million..."

"Of...of course, sir." Alfred pulled his arm back when Hal let him go, disappearing into the kitchen with pink ears.

--

"Alright, got all my things. This weekend was fun, but I gotta head back to Blüdhaven. The precinct has been leaving me a concerning number of voicemails, so I can only imagine the circus I'm gonna find."

Dick shrugged his duffel bag over his shoulder and gave his brothers all a quick squeeze or noogie. Bruce gave him a hug, briefly encompassing him in dark chocolate, and told him to stay safe. Hal did the same, but gently nosed the gland at his throat, pushing packsafelove through his usual, airy scent.

"Go give 'em hell, kid," he said, drawing back. Dick pressed a hand over his neck, feeling a flush of warmth, and almost shyly bid goodbye to Hal before he left, clearly unused to such easy Omegan affection.

--

Jason awoke with a scream in the middle of the night, vision briefly overcome with green, green, green, and darted out of his room before the others could come in and crowd him. His scent left a trail of thick, bitter, omegan fear behind him, until he made his way into the library and tucked himself behind a bookshelf to calm himself down.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound of his own, ragged breathing. Everything felt like too much. His skin felt too tight. His body felt too heavy. His mind felt too busy. He needed it all to stop. He needed a grounding tool. He needed —

Jason sucked in another sharp gasp, and scented a calming, summer breeze. It was faint and unobtrusive, somewhere distant, but he latched onto it like a faint beacon of light amongst a raging storm. He chased that scent like a lifeline, until his skin stopped feeling tight and his body stopped feeling like lead and his mind finally started to slow and settle.

Then he crawled back out from the bookcase and approached Hal from where he was lounging in a chair across the library, an unobtrusive but clear position of support whenever he wanted it.

He didn't have to ask before Hal's arms opened up, wrapping tightly around Jason, and he scented his neck and cheek until the last of his tremors died off.

Safelovesafe, Hal pushed into his scent. Safelovesafe.

Jason rested his head on Hal's shoulder, trusting him to support his weight. Lovesafepack.

--

Tim hadn't managed to get out of the manor fast enough to avoid Hal snatching him up and nesting him during his pre-heat.

"This can't be helpful to you," he muttered, squirming from under the three layers of blankets Hal had burrito'd him into. "I'm a beta, remember? I can't smell any more interesting than a ream of paper."

"You're one of my pups. Shut up and deal with it," Hal said, throwing yet another blanket on top of Tim, before spooning his bundled body to his chest and nosing at the back of his neck so self-soothe. "You smell like coconut, by the way. And me, now, but your base scent is coconut."

"I don't own anything with coconut in it..." Tim mumbled. "Hey, I don't have to stay here, right? I'm gonna get heat stroke if the answer is yes."

Hal just kept nosing at the back of his neck. Tim tried to ignore how nice it felt and relented to his fate with a sigh.

--

Damian pushed his father's hand away when he went to feel his temperature and curled up further into his blankets. He already knew he was feverish; there was no need to touch him to confirm it.

"I think you're gearing up to present, buddy," Bruce told him. "I was thirteen when it happened to me, too, and your scent's been changing the past few days."

"Great. Is it gonna be this uncomfortable the entire time?" Damian groaned. "I'm hot. I'm cold. I'm hot again. I'm thirsty. Everything hurts. I think I'd rather fight off a hundred assassins in the League again."

"This should help," Hal said, knocking on the door frame to announce himself before walking in. He was holding a bundle of clothes, several articles plucked from everyone in the house, and started tucking them under Damian's blankets. "What do you think you're gonna be?"

"An alpha, obviously," Damian practically sneered, "like father. I have all the traits and qualities of a pack leader like him. What a stupid question."

Hal and Bruce exchanged a glance over Damian's shivering body, communicating wordlessly in the way only long-time lovers could. It was sickening and annoying.

"Spit it out," he hissed. He caught a whiff of cedar and followed it to Dick's hoodie, bringing it to his face and nuzzling into it. He was about to present so he could afford to do embarrassing things for a short time, like find comfort in the scents of his pack mates.

"Nothing, champ. Just hope you feel better quickly," Hal said, reaching down to ruffle his hair. "It shouldn't last more than a day."

"And if you need anything, someone's always gonna be outside the door keeping track of you," Bruce said, leaning down to nose against his temple gently. The comforting scent from his alpha helped abate some of the discomfort Damian was feeling, and he almost reluctantly nuzzled back before rolling over.

Two sets of footsteps made to walk out of the room, but Damian sniffed around his nest and frowned.

"Jordan," he called. Hal stopped and immediately returned to his bedside.

"Yeah?"

"...there's...nothing of yours is in here," Damian muttered, avoiding eye contact as he thrust his hand out expectantly. "Hand your shirt over immediately."

Hal laughed, but it wasn't mean. He obediently tugged off the t-shirt he was wearing and handed it over, and Damian added it to his collection before settling back down.

"You may go," the boy muttered. Hal hummed and grabbed his wrist again, nosing against it, and Damian didn't put up any resistance despite the flush staining his cheeks. "I'm not a babe in need of reassurance! Leave me!"

"Sure thing, kid. I'm taking the first shift, so holler if you need anything," Hal said.

Damian waited until he left the room before bringing his wrist to his neck and rubbing the Lantern's scent against his glands. It smelled like lovepacklove.

Maybe being an Omega wouldn't be so bad.

[fanatic564]

Abandon Weakness (Am I a Weakness?) (DPxDC) Chapter 1

Learning Weakness 1 2 AO3 Link Here

Summary

Danny can't help but feel as if he's been in this position before. A bag hastily thrown into his arms. Someone leading him away from a threat. The sweet, acidic taste of Lazarus water ectoplasm at the back of his throat. It's all so familiar it's almost nostalgic.

A Prequel to Learning Weakness, showing Danny escaping Amity Park and making his way to Gotham. Notes:

I promise I'm working on the next chapter of Learning Weakness. But I've had this outlined since chapter one, so I knew how Danny made it to Gotham. I got inspired to actually write it out. (I might be procrastinating, its fiiiiine).

"What do you think Father is like?"

The question broke the comfortable silence that surrounded the two small boys laying next to each other on the bed.

"Strong."

"That's it?"

"What else could he be? There's a reason Mother and Grandfather chose him to bear the heir of the family name."

"Hm."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well. It's just… you are everything that Mother and Grandfather are. Strong. Skilled. Unstoppable. But what about me? I'm nothing like any of you. I'm weaker and I can't bring myself to be as ruthless as you all. So surely I must take after Father?"

Another beat of silence, before one of the boys shuffled closer, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around the other.

"If that is true, then Father must be kind. He must be compassionate, and too good for the League. Because that is what you are, Ahki. And I swear, I will do everything in my power to make sure you can stay that way. So that when we meet him, he will know in an instant that you are his son."

"I love you, Dami."

"I love you too, Danyal."

~ ~ ~

Danny can't help but feel as if he's been in this position before. A bag hastily thrown into his arms. Someone leading him away from a threat. The sweet, acidic taste of Lazarus water ectoplasm at the back of his throat. It's all so familiar it's almost nostalgic.

"Come on, Danny. Now is not the time to be spacing out." Danny shakes his head. Sam is right. He can think about the past when he's not actively being hunted.

"Yeah man. We're almost there." Come now Habibi, the first safehouse is just up ahead.

Danny pushes the thought aside. He runs faster, using his ghost abilities to drag Sam and Tucker down the street and through the wall of a building.

Said building is an old abandoned house at the edge of Amity Park. The place is boarded up with no visible entrance for a normal person, but that can't stop someone who can phase through walls like they aren't there. Inside, most of the furniture is covered with dust and grime. All except for the dining room table, which has been cleared by the teens for their own use.

On top of the table, there is a lidded box next to a pile of papers. Danny pulls his bag up onto the table next to them.

"You sure you'll be okay, dude? I can still get you set up somewhere. Make you a bank account and a fake ID and everything. I only need a little bit of time-"

"If you couldn't tell, we're out of time already. He can't wait any longer"

"You guys have done a lot for me. I can't thank you enough. But, you can't get any more involved in this. The Guys in White already have you on their radar and once Mom and Dad get them to join the search, plausible deniability is your best shot at safety."

His friends look at each other before turning back at him. "If you're really sure."

"I am. You guys should go. Your houses will likely be one of the first places they look and you need to be there when they do."

The three teens stand there for a moment staring at each other. The moment ends when Sam flings her arms around Danny to cling to him.

"I'm gonna miss you. You better contact us as soon as you find a place to settle down. You hear me Daniel Fenton‽"

Danny laughs lightly in response before looking over to Tucker. "What, not gonna join the goodbye hug? You wound me Tuck."

Tucker rolls his eyes before moving to join the hug. Once he is within reach, Danny wraps his own arms around both of them. His core hums as he holds two of the people closest to him. Eventually though, he has to let them go. They say their final goodbyes before Danny turns them intangible and herds them out of the building.

And then he is alone.

Alone to finally think about everything that has happened. And just how similar it is to what happened to him before, all those years ago.

Family members wanting him dead. A sibling being left behind (and Danny feels a pang in his chest at that. At least with Jazz, he has a way to contact her again, when all is said and done.) Danny escaping with the help of someone he loves. Not knowing what is in store for him past this point. Danny running from a throne he doesn't think he is qualified to take.

~ ~ ~

Before Danny lived at Amity Park, before he was killed by the portal, before he became a ghost fighting vigilante, Danyal Al Ghul had been killed by his own brother. Well, before even that he had been a part of a cult of literal assassins. One of the heirs to said cult, in fact, the son of Talia Al Ghul and a man named Bruce Wayne. But, since a cult of assassins didn't need more than one heir, Danyal's grandfather had ordered a duel between the twin. And thus, Danyal's death.

Of course, as seemed to be a recurring theme in his life, Danny did not stay dead.

Instead, with the sound of clocks in his ears and the burning taste of the pit he was thrown into in his mouth, Danny awoke from his death.

(Clockwork would later explain his role in the event to him. How it hadn't been his time yet, and so he influenced Mother into putting Danny in the pits. How he watched the ensuing journey to assure he made it to his destination in one piece as opposed to alive, where the beginning of his journey was death, and the end result would always be death even if years down the line . )

He made it to Amity Park, and was eventually found and adopted by the Fenton Family. It was like comparing night and day, comparing life with the Fentons to life with the League of Assassins. While the league was strict, with rules being strictly enforced and discipline served ruthlessly, the Fentons had a more… hands-off approach. Hands-off meaning barely there, always in the basement working on their 'research'. At first, Danny had been ecstatic for the distance. Less rules barely any, no discipline having to fend for himself , no having to learn how to murder and hurt and….it had been everything Danny had wanted.

Of course Danny missed his brother, and Mother, and even Grandfather on occasion. But Danny could never return, never see them again, in order to keep all of them safe. And so he enjoyed the freedom that living with the Fentons provided.

With that freedom, Danny did research. He learned more about his father, how he was a billionaire living in the city of Gotham who had a habit of adoption that was frankly concerning. He learned that Gotham itself had to be chock full of ectoplasm, with how full of crime and fear the city was. The city had heroes and vigilantes and crime lords and-

And his brother.

Those next few years were a blur. Danny gained close friends in the form of Sam and Tucker. Danny slowly learned to push aside his assassin past and live a normal life. Then he died again. And then he became a vigilante. And then he gained another sister in the form of Ellie. And then he defeated Pariah Dark. And the Jazz went to college left him alone with them.

And then his parents discovered it all.

(Well, maybe not all of it, but enough to know he was no longer safe in Amity Park.)

~ ~ ~

Danny and his friends had a plan for if his parents ever discovered that he was Phantom and they didn't react well. They put together a to-go box for him to grab before fleeing, with an ecto-infused burner phone, some snacks and water bottles, a decent supply of ecto shots, spare clothes, and a few other miscellaneous items. The last part of their plan was supposed to be finding a place for him to flee to. But, they thought they had more time, didn't think this would happen so soon. And so all Danny has to go off of is the pile of papers next to his box, with lists of pros and cons for several different locations that he can go to.

His friends don't know this, but Danny has long since made his decision on where to go. He can't go to where Jazz is going to college, there isn't enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. In fact, most places they discussed didn't. However, there is one option, all the way at the bottom of the pile, that Danny knows will be perfect. To Sam and Tucker, it is a last resort spot, somewhere to go if there is absolutely no other option. Despite the abundance of apparent ectoplasm in the air, the risks are not worth it in their eyes. The ectoplasm seems like the only pro in a sea of cons for them. But for Danny? There is a second pro that outweighs every con tenfold.

Danny can finally reunite with his brother. With Dami. End Notes: Feel free to point out any mistakes.

[savemeafruitjuice]

My first Sonic fic! 😈🔥 🔥 🔥🗣️‼️‼️

(and my first fic of the year)

Lee: Sonic

Ler: Maddie, Tom

TW!: SLIGHT MENTIONS OF GORE! (Not really descriptive, just a reference to a movie) Other than that just fluff!!!!!

THIS IS SET AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE FIRST MOVIE, SO BE AWARE!!! ALSO, NFSW DNI!!!! THIS IS A FAMILY. A CHILD AND HIS PARENTS.

Maddie had to admit, having a kid was an unexpected change of pace to her slower small-town life, but a welcome one nonetheless.

She and her husband, Tom, had recently adopted a young blue hedgehog, who just happened to have come from another universe. Sonic, as she had discovered his name to be, had joined their family after years of being hidden from the world. His newfound family had given him a chance to experience a safe and fun childhood- one that he enjoyed and cherished every single day.

Sonic seemed to be having a blast catching up on all of the things to do in Green Hills, and although he loved the sports, games, and foods he had gotten to try, an interest that had really stuck out among the rest was watching movies. Maddie found it interesting as to how such an energetic teen could be pacified into calmly sitting just by having a film playing in front of him.

Which, she wasn't going to judge at all. Especially when it meant a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sonic had made it a point to she and Tom that they should all watch movies together, admitting as to how he had totally-not-creepily watched a few from their window before he was discovered by the couple, but never got to finish most of them. This prompted an excited, albeit slightly concerned, Tom to insist on the three of them watching all of the classics that night, and having a bit of family time.

And just like that, the newly-made hedgehog mom was lounging on the couch, surrounded by plenty of blankets and pillows as Tom was going through their DVDs, naming them off as their blue-quilled son jumped up and down excitedly next to him, babbling about his favorite parts.

"Uhm.. Oh! How about 'Karate Kid'?"

Sonic jumped onto the couch, barely missing Maddie's leg, and did some ninja-kicks at the air, imitating some moves he must have seen in the movie. "Ohohoh! I love that one!"

Tom chuckled, flipping through another couple discs. "We also have 'The Princess Bride', have you seen that one?"

The hedgehog stopped his attack on the void, going back to bouncing on the couch cushions. "Hmm.. I didn't really understand parts of it. Like, near the end when Westley was threatening to cut off the other dude's nose and mouth and stuff, but leave his ears. Why would a dead guy be able to hear?"

At her husband's pause, Maddie laughed, shaking her head fondly. "I think it was the idea that his soul would still be able to hear things from his body's place. You don't have to look that far into it, though, hun."

Sonic shrugged, and Tom stood from his spot on the floor, carrying the selection of movies the three had agreed on, and settled them near the tv. He put one in the DVD player, and plopped down on the opposite side of the couch as his wife, leaving a bit of room for Sonic to sit once he was ready.

As the first movie's title appeared on the screen, Sonic cheered, letting himself fall onto the couch. He scooted back, then curled up against Maddie's side. "Alright! Jurassic Park sounds cool!"

"Betcha didn't know there are three Jurassic Park movies."

"And another three- don't forget Jurassic World, Tom."

The brunette smiled. "Right, can't forget those."

Sonic was practically in awe, jaw dropped as he stared at the two. "Wait, what? You're telling me there are six movies about dinosaurs?!" He sighed, flopping back onto the couch. "We have to watch them all!"

"Wohow, you're getting ahead of yourself there." Tom laughed, ruffling the smaller's head. "We can't watch all of them tonight, but I promise we can eventually. Just.. not all in one sitting."

Sonic smiled, nodding at the assurance. Tom then pressed play, and the family quieted, focused on the beginning scene in front of them.

As the movie played, Sonic had found himself deeply invested in the plot, rearranging himself every now and then into a more comfortable position. As of now, he was curled up in Maddie's lap, socked feet in Tom's lap. The teen's head was propped up in his hand as he focused on the tv screen, being caught off guard as a dinosaur screeched loudly, flinching back.

He froze, the hedgehog subtly glanced at Tom's face, hoping the Sheriff, nor Maddie noticed him jump. When neither of them had a reaction, Sonic let out a quiet sigh, trying to go back to focusing on the tense scene that was happening.

A couple minutes had passed, and he had finally relaxed again. The air in the room was peaceful, and everyone was calm. Maddie subconsciously reached a hand to gently rub at Sonic's side, used to holding hands with her husband or something of the sort when watching things together.

Nothing, though, could have prepared the small family for the noise that elicited from the blue hedgehog's mouth.

At the touch, Sonic absolutely screamed as if he had been shocked with a million volts of electricity, his head tumbling from his hand as he whipped around. The veterinarian's eyes widened, and her hand quickly pulled away from her son's body.

"Sonic! Are you okay?"

Maddie's eyes swept thoroughly over his torso, searching for any possible sign of injury. Sonic, on the other hand, was now turned to face her, looking just as shocked as she did.

"I- yeah, I'm okay. I guess you just.. scared me?"

Tom looked puzzled. "Seems that way, huh? We weren't even watching a scary movie, kiddo."

The teen shrugged. "I know. Weird."

Maddie thought for a moment, brows furrowing slightly as an idea formed. "Sonic.. Is it alright if I try that again? Just.. to make sure everything's alright."

Sonic nodded, sitting up to allow her easier access. As her hand went to gently touch his side, he glanced down with equal interest, only to jump and giggle the second her hand came into contact with his skin.

"AH! Wait- hahah!"

The green-eyed hedgehog looked up with a confused grin, head tilting slightly as Maddie pulled away again. She smiled back, laughing a bit as she spoke. "Looks like we figurehed out what 'scahared' you!"

Sonic looked back down at himself, grabbing his own side, face pinching in a perplexed expression. "What.. was that? You just- you made me laugh?"

Maddie glanced at her husband, who seemed to be shocked by this new piece of information. The sheriff's jaw dropped, and he stared at Sonic in disbelief.

"You mean you don't know what tickling is?"

When the smaller shook his head, Maddie quickly interjected. "Okay, we are fixing that right now." She straightened up in her spot, and reached for his side again.

"Tickling is when someone touches a specific part of the body that makes them laugh." She squished at his torso, gaze softening as he burst into happy giggles. "It's an involuntary response."

Sonic jerked away from the offending hand, flopping to the side as his arms went to curl around his belly. "Ahah! Snrt- Yohou mean Ihi've been wastihihing my time on johokes? This is- Snrt- ahawesome!" The teen kicked his legs out, squealing as another hand came to his knee. "HAH! Tohohom, noHO!"

"I still can't believe you had no idea what tickling is! I wonder where else you're ticklish!" Tom's excited smile morphed into something more smug, and he spidered his fingers all along the laughing teen's knees, reaching a hand up to dig into his underarm too.

A squeaky squeal escaped from Sonic's mouth, and he quickly clamped his arm down, kicking his legs out frantically. Maddie snickered, placing a hand over her husband's as she spoke. "Be gentle with him. We don't wanna overwhelm the poor kid."

Tom rolled his eyes playfully, but went back to tickling at his knees. When Sonic exploded into bright laughter again, trying to pull his legs away, he stopped, moving to instead rub at his leg comfortingly.

The hedgehog looked up as the fluttery sensation stopped, a confused residual smile plastered on his face. "Whahah.. Why'd yohou guys stop?"

"Figured you needed a break. You were laughing pretty hard there."

Maddie smiled for probably the umpteenth time today. "Unless you want us to keep going?"

She noticed a tinge of shyness in his tone, but the happy smile he wore way outshined it. "Yeah! I-If thats okay, of course. Tickling is just.. really fun!"

"We'd be happy to!" She beamed, bringing her fingers to his belly, scribbling her nails over it. Sonic's limbs flailed for a moment, then his hands snapped up, holding onto his mom's wrists, giddy laughter spilling from his mouth when Tom wiggled a finger into the crook of his neck.

The smaller cackled, scrunching his shoulders up. He wiggled about, legs instinctively kicking at Tom and Maddie's arms, though despite his half-hearted struggling, the kid looked like he was having a blast.

Maddie cooed, half expecting to be pushed away, but she never was. Sonic just held onto her, eyes squeezing shut in mirth. After a few seconds, Tom pulled his hands back once more, his son peeking an eye open through his giggles to see what was going on.

"Honey, can you get his hands? I wanna try something."

"Sure, Tom." She smiled, reaching forward a bit to gently scoop up the smaller's wriggling arms, lifting them above his head.

Sonic tugged at his hands, attempting to pull his legs up to gain some sort of protection, as he was feeling a lot more exposed now. An anticipatory smile tugged at his lips as Tom drew closer.

"Nahah! Snrk- Get awahay!" Sonic tried to kick at the elder, only to squeal in an embarrassingly high pitch as his ankle was grabbed and pulled away, being quickly pinned onto the couch. "Tohom! Whahat're yohou doihihing?"

The brunette grinned, sneaking a tickle across his son's side, prompting the younger to burst back into giggles.

"Nothing much, bud. I just wanna introduce you to tickling properly. And this is the best way to do it!" Tom lunged forward, inhaling deeply before blowing a huge raspberry against Sonic's belly.

The hedgehog shrieked, immediately tearing his arms and leg from his parent's grasp as he exploded into cackles. His arms curled around Tom's head, eyes going wide at the horribly ticklish feeling shooting through his torso.

"PFFAAHAH! SNRK- TOHOM!" he squealed, legs kicking frantically in a blur of movement. A few seconds went by, and the raspberry still didn't stop! The blue teen tossed his head to the side, cheeks growing redder the longer he laughed. "EEEAHAH! HAHAH! SNRK- OKAY OKAY OKAHAHAY! PLEHEHEASE!"

Tom pulled away, chuckling at the giggling mess of laughter on the couch. "Whahat? Too ticklish for you?"

Maddie laughed, shaking her head as she helped the younger up. "Oh my goodness.."

The blue-themed teen slumped into her, hiding his residual giggles into his hands as he recovered from the playful attack. "Geheez, I.. cahan't believe thahat- Snrk- just happehened.."

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Sonic let his arms fall from their spot over his face. He looked up at Tom with a gentle smile. "..Thanks, Tom."

The sheriff smiled back, then crashed into the two, wrapping his family in a hug. "No problem, little man."

The three seemed perfectly content, until the youngest burst into laughter again. "Pfft! Wehe- We plahanned out this whohole movie night, and didn't eheven watch a sihingle movie!"

"Ohoh yeah! We were watching a movie, weren't we?"

Maddie cracked up, shaking her head at the silliness of the situation. "Ihi don't even remember what part we were at.."

"Rihight.." The youngest thought for a minute, then shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know."

"Want to pick a different one, and go back to Jurassic park later?"

"Yeah! Oh, I know the perfect one.."

-----

Rahhh I finally finished it!! I really liked writing this, they're such sillies! 💙💛💙💛

[ncillary]

Self Aware AU (Zayne)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Zayne. The reason is because you want an assured happy end for him before you could be with him. The man has no qualm in being cursed again and again the moment he stays by your side in every timeline.

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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|  1  |�� 2  |  3  |  4  |  5 [current]  |

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"Thank you for your help. This might seem ridiculous but we want to put facts as correctly as possible even though it was simply a game."

The director of the hospital dismissed them saying it helps to get people to understand hospital-related things in any form possible. The world may have reached a level of modernization but false information always circulates around without proper address to it. Maybe a game could interest people to seek out a better understatement.

"Thank you too for listening to our exhausting yapping. Sometimes we are too engrossed in our own world in explaining if not for younglings simplifying things for us."

He gestures to the few young doctors present in the meeting room together with the senior doctors and retiree. The game company staffs bowed their heads as an appreciation before the doctors left the room. They also started to pack up.

"It's good to see you here. How's the clinic?"

The staff saw a retiree patting the back of a black-haired doctor. His hazel eyes shone the moment he saw his mentor.

"Not as busy as the main hospital but challenging all the same."

A hearty laugh, "You're not a retiree to settle down in the far off town like me. Searching for something again?"

His eyes flickered slightly before patting his mentor to continue the conversation somewhere else.

Someone's clearing their throat. They turned to the staff.

"Apologies but could I have some time with the doctor here for a few minutes?" The staff looked straight at the hazel-eyed doctor.

The retiree pushed lightly at him before waving away. He smiled as he looked at his mentor who closed the door behind him.

His demeanour changed instantly. Doctor mode on. The staff was taken aback by it but soon gestured for others to set up something. The staff told him to sit while they prepared a laptop in front of him.

An elderly woman smiled warmly at him beyond the screen. He nodded.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Zayne." She started.

"The pleasure is mine..."

"Right, I'm the CEO of the game company. My name is a secret to the world including you." She teased.

He chuckled, "Very well, madam. How may I assist you?"

"We need your prolonged assistance for our project. We want to ask you to be a model for one of our characters. I think you are suitable for that one fellow we have established."

He blinked, "I'm nothing much compared to others. I think it's better to rethink your option, madam."

"We also would be very grateful if you could be one of our personal advisors regarding a few matters?"

"I'm happy to help with giving some input occasionally but I'll have to decline in being your prolonged personal advisor. Besides, there are more experienced doctors than me."

She quietened. She asked the others to step out and leave them alone. All the staff obliged.

He was unfazed, waiting for her to speak up.

"Zayne. Give me a chance. Three months. You'll be allowed access and supervise the game from behind the scene. You don't have to frequently see it through but at least help me out when I ask for assistance once in a while."

He can't exactly pinpoint this woman's desperation but it made him agree to her deal. Her relieved smile made him smile too somehow.

+---------------------------+--------------------------+

"It's weird seeing yourself moving around in a game."

He tested the game before it was released to the whole wide world. After the test, he'll be supervising the game through his game counterpart's eye. Not as MC. How Madam CEO trusted him so much to give him a personal access ID, he didn't have a clue.

+--------------------+------------------------------+

He couldn't see her face but he could feel she was caressing his frozen cheek. Warmth spreading. Then she collapsed on him.

His brows furrowed before slowly opening it to the view of his ceiling. He sat up, feeling exhausted.

Who is she?

He didn't know. But he had been dreaming of her frequently. He felt like he needed to help her. Do something to save her.

Be with her.

She was one of the reasons he changed his workplace to this quaint little town's clinic. He didn't want his lack of sleep to bother the load of work at the main hospital.

Plus, he felt that he was supposed to be in this town for some unknown reason.

+-----------------------------+----------------------+

"Hello, Dr. Zayne. May I ask you to watch over one of our new player again? This one looks interesting."

He chuckled, already knew the madam's antics, "Will do madam. Give me the details."

+------------------+---------------------------------+

"Happy Birthday, fishieee~ Although you're annoying, it was nice meeting you. Oh... why Zayne's birthday so far away. AH! Sorry sorry. Ha~ppy~ Birthday to you-"

He laughed lowly. This new player felt different than others he had watched over for the past four months.

Yes.

He extended his contract after meeting this one particular headache-inducing-funny player.

It was awkward to listen to them after the microphone feature was updated. He opted to mute them. Saving their privacy.

Until this particular one.

The moment he heard her voice coming through his speaker, he panicked.

Did his ID receive updates recently?

It was one of the reason this very issue happened before. The staff probably missed informing him this time and reset all the mute and off setting to his access ID.

He quickly went to the setting.

"Zayne. You are not cursed. I'm going to uncurse the both of us. I... I mean the MC. Don't you dare consume it all on your own again."

Hand stopping. Eyes blinking.

His mind flashes to his dream.

His heart tightened on its own.

He knew it.

She's the one.

Even though it was just her voice, his heart was telling him he had found her.

+-------------------------+---------------------------+

He grumbled lowly as he shook his head.

"How many times she wants to watch this."

He could hear her sobbing and frankly, it was killing him slowly.

"It'll be the death of me if I saw her face."

+--------------------------+-------------------------+

He hid his eyes behind scarred hand.

"Madam, this is literally killing me. Why did you give me this update?"

The player's face. Her face was shown on the screen. She was laughing at every prompt she received after every pats she did on his counterpart's shoulder.

Madam CEO laughed from the other side of the phone call, "I thought it would be a nice touch to personally get to know the very person that helped me extend your stay with us."

He stared at the empty wall, still not looking at his gaming phone specifically provided by Madam CEO, and quirked an eyebrow.

"I am suspicious of your every action, if you must know."

"I noticed. But let's just play along nicely, shall we." She replied cheekily.

He chuckled knowingly to her manner.

+----------------------------+-----------------------+

"Enough. I'm banning you from watching the cards that brought you to tears."

He forcefully crashed the game after seeing her non-stop crying. So much worry displayed on the usual rigid face for her swollen eyes.

From that day on, marked the first time he bothered her in-game with various things. The so-called 'bug' that she was annoyed by every time it prevented her from watching her moment with in-game Zayne.

And many more afterwards.

+-------------------------+---------------------------+

"Zayne~"

He can't do this anymore.

He saw her eyes sparkling. Relieved sighs were pulled out of him.

He watched her succumb to a much needed slumber after getting his Myth pair.

"I never meant to hurt you like this. For that, I apologize, my dear."

+-------------------------+------------------------+

"Happy birthday, dearest Zayne~ Sorry, I can't sing properly to you. I'm on a company vacation to this one interesting quaint town. Anyway, may your birthday and the upcoming days be filled with all the blessings you could ever get. You bet I'll be adding more effort to make you the happiest snowman."

She exited the game.

He was in stupor. He recognized the restaurant signboard. It was the one in the town he worked in. She is here. Closeby.

He was restless between wanting to see her in person or not.

+--------------------------+------------------------+

He watched her looking sullen a tiny bit as she watched the video call on his birthday.

He had a bad feeling about it.

In the background he saw a bus station.

"She missed a bus?"

His mouth was asking but his body was already reaching for the car key and his coat.

His phone was on all the way until he found her at the park. He sighed heavily.

"Wish I could stay with you too, Zayne." Her voice sounded teary but her look was calm.

He approached silently.

".....everything is shying from me today."

One step.

I'm not.

Two step.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Three step. Stop.

She looked down at her phone, the game is still on, chuckling lowly, "It kinda is actually."

"Can I accompany you then?"

She stared at her phone for a long time.

He cleared his throat then felt a bit guilty afterwards of how she reacted to it.

They saw each other fully.

He didn't know he could have only her in his eyes without registering the surroundings at all.

"Are you cold?" The first thing she said after staring at him like a statue for a quite sometime.

Zayne hid his laugh with the back of his hand. Shaking his head fondly to this silly girl.

HIS silly girl.

He kneeled down and held her cold hands. Caressing it lightly to make them warmer.

"The cold never bothered me quite like a certain someone's recklessness."

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|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5 [current]  | 6 |

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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[marshmallowprotection]

world hard and cold, kissing saeran soft and warm

"You know... as much as I appreciate your attempt to distract me, and I hate to tell you this... but, it won't be enough to stop me. I'm afraid I am well-versed in maintaining my focus on not only what's in front of me but what's in my hands as well," he hummed.

"You mean to say I haven't done enough to distract you so far."

That was enough to draw a chuckle from Saeran's lips as you planted another kiss against the back of his head. He never seemed to mind the attention you gave him when it meant he could feel you close to him. How could you not give him a dozen kisses when he was bent over the kitchen counter? He was at the right height to have you not only wrap your arms around his waist but lean over and pepper him in kiss after kiss!

"You know I can't be distracted from baking dessert," he countered.

You could feel his muscles shift and contract as he continued to roll and press the dough beneath his fingertips. He mentioned earlier in the day that he wanted to have cookies after dinner, opting to try out a new recipe rather than purchase a pack from the store, and as cute as it was to see him adamant about what he wanted—

You wanted to tease him all the same for that serious look on his face! When he wanted to bake something, he took it with the utmost care and regard to not only the ingredients but to the notes he gathered in the process. There was no hurry to learn anything, he had all the time in the world to experiment in the kitchen, but nights like tonight were his favorite because he set aside an hour or two before bed to learn a new trick he saw somewhere during the week!

But, the kitchen wasn't the only place he put those research skills into practice.

It wasn't your goal to distract him from his quest, but it was your goal to pull his leg for sticking his tongue out in concentration like that. "Well, you can if I'm the dessert."

Saeran paused, briefly, to shake you from his back and twirl you around so you could settle in front of him and between his arms. Those kisses of yours had gotten to him, and that was enough for your satisfaction. It wasn't a game of trying to one-up each other, nope! It was a game of waves, pushing and pulling until you turned into a perfect shoreline of love.

"My love, I don't have to roll you over and pour flour on top of you to bring you to perfection. You're perfect just the way you are, I'm afraid. Though I will admit I'm not opposed to adding a strawberry on top for added flavor when I'm feeling peckish."

The giggle that escaped you was to his satisfaction, of course.

You glanced down at his cookie dough, "Saeran, might I ask why you've dug out the cookie cutters? Normally, you use this shape to create Gingerbread men. I may not know a lot about baking, but I know that not all cookies adhere to the shape of the cutter when they spread in the oven."

"That's why I'm tinkering with this particular recipe to find the right consistency," he explained. He returned to the dough and continued to spread it out across the cutting board.

You raised a brow, "Oh? What do you plan to do once you make the perfect cookie? Are you going to make an army of cookies? Will they guard the rest of your treats?"

"No, I decided that I want to bake you into a cookie so whenever you have to leave for work during the week, I'll have the sweetest version of you to keep me company," He said, the serious nature to his voice left you no room to prod to see if it was a joke. "Not that you're not a sweetheart, my love. You taste like a sweet spice, warm and cozy on my tongue, but the cookie version of you... will taste like the love we share... so saccharine that I'll be tasting you for hours."

You floundered, bouncing between words but none could come fast enough. Eventually, you settled for a simple whine of complaint to let him know what his words did to your heart. "Don't make me bite you!"

"Oh, should I make a cookie version of myself for you to take to work as well? I imagine you might like to bite into him, too."

"Saeran Choi!"

[pandorascripts]

Familiar thy by side part 2!!! 🙌 🥺

a/n: welpppp i supposeeeee (this was sitting in my drafts for a while and I forgot it was done). sorry for the inconsistency everyone, I've been busy busy busy with competitions for my clubs and I my term two ended just last week. Can't promise a better upload schedule until schools out :(

pairing: agatha/rio/reader

NOTE: this is set in salem time periods, they will speak as such. too lazy to actually check for spelling errors, so apologies!

The next time you’re able to remember current events, you’re laid down on a dock, in nothing but your wet undergarments. With a loud gasp, you shoot up, chest rapidly rising and falling. Everything is overwhelming, the noise of the lake, the splashing and laughter, the bristle of trees’ leaves, the creaking of the dock — too much, everything is too much. You can’t recognize anything, your whereabouts completely unknown as the cold sinks into your achy bones and shaky fingers. 

Finally, you see someone just barely familiar. Nicholas, laughing and splashing his Mother just twenty feet off to your side in the shallow waters. With a hard breath, you look around and try to focus on regaining your senses. Previously dirty skin is shining clean again, your hands brushing over it in confusion. Agatha… had bathed you? The thought of being unconscious and vulnerable makes your spine shiver, gaze hardening at Agatha. The moment you fully look at her — really recognize her, you have such a hard time hating her. The smile plastered on her raw face, laughter so hard she’s forced to wheeze and turn her back from her boy — she looks human to you for the first time in… well, however long you’ve been with them. 

Nicky is the first to notice you, his smile still wide as he waves to you. Agatha snaps her head to your direction, icy blue eyes running along your posture for a good read. There’s a subconscious relent in Agatha when she realizes how scared you are right now. There’s so much familiarity in that showcase of fear for her, that she’s slightly taken aback by the memories of nights when she was younger and afraid. A low growl dies down into a clearing of her throat, Agatha turning away. 

“Nicholas, you’ll get frozen if we’re here any longer,” she states, but Nicky knows it’s a demand. 

He pouts but doesn’t argue with his mom, waddling out of the water that Agatha easily cruises through. Her outfit matches yours — nothing but undergarments, and it’s clear that they had been playing in the water for quite some time. A weird thought festers in your mind, happy that despite being apathetic to everything, Agatha knows that her son is but a boy and deserves to have fun. 

By the time Agatha and Nicholas are fully dressed in their slightly damp clothes — ones you haven’t seen before, so you realize they must’ve been stolen during your lights-out phase – the embarrassment settles in. You feel even more vulnerable now, the only one absolutely indecent enough for viewing. Agatha lets Nicholas head back to their makeshift camp just some odd feet out, her journey steering to open a medium-sized leather pouch, and take out some clothes. Silently, Agatha walks down the doc to toss them in your lap. 

“What did you do to me?” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth — more so questioning how she managed to subdue you so easily. 

“Bathed you. Nothing more nothing less.” 

The sharpness of her tone makes you realize she believes you to be questioning something else — a small flinch on your face. 

“Not that, that I understand well. The time — I was awake, we were fighting, and then…” 

“Then I came to the smart conclusion you were too shambled to make such a journey and made it so you did not kill Nicky, nor I,” she answers, still on the defensive. 

You don’t argue back with her. Neither do you even try to dry off with anything, immediately trying to put on your clothes. 

“Wait.”

You stop at her words, convinced it was her magick rather than your obedience. “What?” 

Agatha walks off the dock, leaving you confused on whether or not you should continue. She turns her back to you again a couple seconds later, heading down the platform before tossing you a damp rag. 

“To dry. These clothes will be yours next few days, nothing wet against your skin will be comfortable enough for our journey. We leave tonight again.” 

You wet your lips, holding the rag before looking up at Agatha. Seeing her this close, it’s no wonder she was able to lure in many with a beguiling feeling of comfort. Agatha is motherly in many of her actions, even when she’s killing witches, surprisingly enough. Motherly or not completely monstrously, you’re not sure. 

“Thank you, Agatha,” you say softly, her name foreign on your tongue. 

“Make haste, the sun will set in a few hours time.” 

A simple nod from you has Agatha walking over to her son, your hands working to dry off your body with the rag. It’s slightly rugged, a little ripped and the edges are frayed. Although, you can’t be too picky, you suppose. Agatha almost gave you nothing. You’re not sure why she didn’t, why she let you dry off. It truly wouldn’t have been that uncomfortable for you, walking all that distance would’ve heated your body up and in turn the clothes would’ve probably helped cool you down. You turn around on the dock to run the rag over your chest, Agatha’s mean eyes running along your back. 

In her own mind, Agatha is beating herself up over giving you that rag. Why did she care if you were comfortable? If anything, Agatha only wants you to be uncomfortable around her — to be scared around her. It’s much easier that way, for you to be terrorized into obedience. She’s not sure, but maybe after being in your mind during the week in Salem she saw one too many correlations between you and Her. Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to believe that after six years clean she’s genuinely letting herself feel the things she long ago buried about Rio. The name sends shivers down her spine, eyes running to find her boy. He’s nestled against a tree, fixing his hair into a braid. The facial expression she finds on him is way too similar to Rio — mouth open in concentration, nose tilted up. Agatha comes to the realization that she can never get away from the sound of the woman that loves her, and it haunts her. Rio’s voice in the mornings, her small touch throughout the day, the sweet laugh she let out at Agatha’s off-colored jokes – everything that was and is Rio stays within Agatha. Her eyes fall down to her hands, balling them up tightly before she lets go of them with a sigh. 

You walk down the dock, fully dressed and mainly dry. Wet against your neck is your hair, but you simply scrunch it up and keep it behind your shoulders. Agatha is moving Nicky up, sitting behind him as she starts softly speaking to him and doing his hair for him. The braid wasn’t the best, so Agatha simply undoes it and starts over. He doesn’t seme to mind, lost in the conversation as he drags a stick through the dirt to spell out his name. The scene is a little too vulnerable and familial for you to want to engage in, even if you’re more calm than when you first woke. There’s some slight gratitude you feel for Agatha, considering that she didn’t completely undress you when bathing you. Despite the slight awkward dampness of the materials against your skin, it’s something to be thankful for. 

You’re too caught up in trying to figure out everything that happened – stubbornly refusing to ask Agatha – that you don’t notice her sit next to you. Of course, there’s still a couple feet of distance from the two of you, but you’re unsure why she wouldn’t sit by Nicholas. Until you realize he’s not here. 

“Where is the boy?” you ask, your body more unsettled without him. This makes no sense, and you know it, but you swear Agatha is almost human around him. Despite that she’s killed in front of the boy, openly explained that she kills witches to him, and still speaks down to you around him – it just feels safer when he’s around. 

“Off to harvest some berries past that brush,” she replies, and you’re almost surprised she actually does. 

You just stay quiet, a slight nod of your head as your eyes lock on the fire. 

“Salem was just fine, in case you were wondering,” mumbles Agatha, sniffling after as if to cover up everything she just said. 

“Have they still been killling witches?” 

There’s a small laugh from Agatha, her head shaking slightly. “Oh, please, we were much too clever to be killed during then. Those women were married to the worst of the worst, and killed simply so their husband could marry younger or justify his continuous infidelity.” 

“We?” you ask, head turning to stare at Agatha. You weren’t aware that she was living in Salem during those times, but then again, you’re not sure how old Agatha actually is. “Yes, we. Womanhood came to me after spending my youth in that town. I left soon after.” Agatha’s tone at the end, her licking her lips and turning her head too, tells you that there’s something there – a story, no doubt, but you don’t question. 

“Must have been quite fearful, I’d imagine.” 

“They couldn’t catch us, dear, only a few were ever caught.” 

The fire is crackling, your hands reaching out to warm up over the flames. Agatha watches, the way your hair falls off your shoulder and over, her eyes running along your clothes. You’re maybe in your early twenties, or older - it’s hard to tell with witches. Her body is way to relaxed with you so near, but she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because she’s sure you’re magic isn’t as strong or because she’s sure you’re not skilled at all. Either way, Agatha doesn’t like it. 

You don’t react to the word “dear” slipping from her mouth, certain its’ just another way to degrade you and poke fun. It doesn’t bother you. You don’t let it. 

“Man has never been smart, have they?’ you chuckle out, flashing her a small smile. 

Agatha responds with a shake of her head, pursing her lips. “Not much, no.” 

Silence absorbs the both of you for a couple minutes, up until Nicholas stumbles through the brush. He’s brushing off some burs with a distasteful look. 

“They’re so sharp,” he mumbles, very displeased with his clothes being covered in spikey balls. There’s a small smile from you, your hand lifting up to drop down. Just as the action is completed, all the burs fall from his clothes, his head snapping up to look at his mother. 

“Thank you, mama.” “Don’t look at me, boy, that had nothing to do with me,” she chuckles slightly. “Would’ve been quite entertaining watching you flounder about a bit longer.” 

Nicholas laughs slightly at his mom’s teasing, his eyes turning to you. “You then? Thank you.” 

Turning back to the fire, you remain quiet as Agatha and her son converse together, the sun starting to fall. You still aren’t clear how long had passed since you last remember anything, but you’re too nervous to talk. Wringing out your hands, glaring at the fire only to occasionally look at the duo before you, you can’t find a good enough time to interject. 

There’s a small huff from Agatha, her annoyed look turning to face you. “You’re loud.” 

“Excuse me?” you ask out, a little bewildered at her statement.

“Your mind that is, you’re insufferable. What is it you need?”

Closing your gaping mouth, you blink a bunch before relenting. “How long… was I – how long did you have control over me?” 

Agatha wets her lips, turning back to the fire. “Maybe around eight days, including a portion of today.” 

Eight days. It had been eight whole days. You swallow thickly, looking down to stare at the dirt below. She had been in your mind, controlling you, full access to everything for eight whole days. You feel perturbed at this information, wetting your lips down as you struggle to come to terms with that. What had she done in there? What had she seen? What had she messed up? What had she learned? It feels like a violation to you, your head turned away from her. 

Apathetic to your discomfort, Agatha goes back to talking with Nicky about his day and what he found in the forest. 

The next few days are spent silently for you, simply walking alongside Agatha. You wish you could’ve been behind her, away from her, but she insisted you go next to her to negate any chance of betrayal from you. Far too tired to argue and far too worried she’d overwhelm your mind again, you just gave in. During this journey, you didn’t care to ask her where you all were going, you just walked. And walked. And walked.

[pvremichigan]

Whoopsie time

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A drawing of two scavengers from Rain World, one labelled Sanic and the other one Shrek. Sanic's fur is light brown, with darker extremities, a messy row of pale green spines down its back, and bright blue eyes. They sit contentedly, staring at the screen, with a couple grenades by its feet. Shrek has pale fur, a green head, hands, and feet, and brown eyes. It's facing to the right, with their arms splayed out and an explosive spear on their back. Beside each scavenger are a few woefully-compressed screencaps of their in-game appearance. End ID]

An ode to these silly beasts, who accompanied me on my second visits to Industrial and Chimney

[mashmouths]

is it an adhd thing to need to reinvent the concept of a study space so you have any chance of actually studying or just a facet of being alive that no one warned me about

[steddiealltheway]

Steve's not really sure when it became a thing.

Maybe it was while Eddie was in the hospital recovering from his injuries, and the kids had forced Steve onto the visiting schedule. Maybe it was after Eddie got out of the hospital, and the kids insisted they continue to honor the schedule. Maybe it had nothing to do with the schedule and everything to do with the fact that Steve and Eddie had become... friends.

This is also a big maybe in Steve's head because he's pretty sure Eddie just hangs out with him from time to time because he's allowed to drink and smoke around or with him - and he's found that Eddie doesn't like to be alone for extended periods of time.

Steve can't blame him. But with his parents' seemingly permanent absence, he's kind of grown used to it whenever the kids and Robin are forced to go back to school.

But right now, Steve is grateful that Eddie has continued their "thing" in which he shows up at Steve's house at 9pm every Thursday - the same time as one of Steve's assigned "Eddie shifts" - with a six-pack in hand.

Only, this week, Eddie shows up with two bottles of wine.

Steve raises his eyebrows at him as he lets him into the house, shutting the door quickly to keep the cold air out.

"I just thought you'd like to change it up today," Eddie comments nonchalantly as he heads to the living room. Steve wonders for a moment if he knows the secret he's been keeping from everyone, but he figures he doesn't especially when he blabs on, "So, what movie are you blessing me with this week?"

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab the tape and put it in the VCR, but he hesitates for a moment, straightening up to point at Eddie. "You will absolutely tell no one about this, got it? Also, I'm expecting a phone call, but you're not allowed to listen in on it."

"Got it. Scout's honor," Eddie replies with a wink and a salute.

"You were not a boy scout," Steve huffs as he decides to bite the bullet and put the tape in.

Eddie frowns and puts a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Steve. How could you say that?"

"Because I was a boy scout, and we would've been in the same troop."

Once Steve sits on the couch, Eddie leans in and nudges his shoulder. "What I wouldn't give to go back in time and meet a young Steve Harrington. I could've corrupted you sooner."

"I'm afraid Dustin beat you to the corrupting. He's the one who made me watch Star Wars."

"I can always corrupt you in other ways, Steve," Eddie comments, obnoxiously batting his eyelashes.

Steve laughs, used to the blatant flirting during the trailers at this point. "Is that why you brought the wine? To set the mood?"

"Something like that," Eddie says with a soft smile before switching back to his dramatics. "But I'll have you know, I'm a gentleman. Plus, I would like you to remember the first time I blow your mind."

"Blow my mind?" Steve asks, reaching over to grab the bottles. "How would you do that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Eddie says with a wink before uncapping his wine.

Steve glances at his own bottle for a moment, distracted. "It's a screw top."

"It's cheap," Eddie explains. He raises his bottle and tilts it Steve's way. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Steve answers, screwing off the top and taking a swig. Tastes like wine. And it also tastes like... a bad idea.

"So, what movie are we watching that has you so defensive?" Eddie asks, throwing his arm along the back of the couch.

To that, Steve takes a longer drink. "One of my mom's favorite movies. We used to watch it together whenever my dad went out of town for his business trips. But then my mom started getting more suspicious of him staying at the office late, and then she started to go on those business trips with him. Which now seem to... never end." Steve sighs and settles back onto the couch a bit more, head resting right on Eddie's hand. He quickly gets the hint and starts gently playing with his hair.

Steve's not sure when that became a thing either.

After another sip of wine, Steve finally confesses, "It's The Sound of Music."

A few expressions pass over Eddie's face before he quietly says, "That was one of my mom's favorites, too."

The two of them share a similar look of understanding and painful longing for a time they'll neither get back. They both drink at the same time as the opening notes of "The Sound of Music" ring out.

As the movie plays, the two of them drift closer - as they always do - and Steve notices that he's slowly but surely getting a bit wine-drunk. Which is what Robin calls the "worst type of drunk Steve." Maybe he should've taken her up on her offer to stay the full day.

As the last scene plays, Steve finds himself glancing toward the phone more than the screen.

"You okay?" Eddie asks gently, the hand in his hair moving to cup his face.

Steve can feel the way the wine flushes his cheeks and sits heavy on his stomach when he asks, "When do you realize your parents have given up on you?"

Eddie swallows heavily before grabbing Steve's nearly empty bottle and putting it on the coffee table. He sits back and fully turns to him. "For me, I fully realized a month after I stayed with Wayne. I still hadn't unpacked the cardboard box my things were in, hoping that maybe since my dad had dropped me off my mom would pick me up. But I hadn't seen her in years." He looks back at the TV where the end credits are rolling. "She left promising me she would come back and make a better life for the two of us eventually. I thought with my dad out of the picture, she'd be back. But as soon as I unpacked that box, I gave up on the idea."

Steve shifts closer and grabs Eddie's hand. "I'm sorry."

Eddie looks at him and tilts his head down so he's looking him right in the eye. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. And..." he hesitates for a moment before resting his forehead against Steve's and whispering, "Happy birthday."

Steve's eyes close tightly. It's the words he had been waiting for all day but in hopes that they'd be coming out the mouths of at least one of his parents. Preferably his mom.

There's pressure behind his eyes, and Steve reaches out to squeeze Eddie's hand gently, warning him in his own way that he might fall apart. But Eddie stays where he is.

"This is the first year they haven't called," Steve whispers, feeling one tear fall down his face. "I know they're assholes but... I didn't think they'd be this much of an asshole. God," he breathes out, breaking away from Eddie to lean back against the couch, hands covering his face as more tears fall.

A familiar arm drapes itself around Steve's shoulders tugging gently until he winds up with his head buried in Eddie's neck.

They sit there for a while, Eddie holding him and running a soothing hand through his hair that reminds Steve of the first time Eddie had opened up to him about the nightmares that never went away, and they had ended up in a similar but swapped position.

Maybe that's when this became a thing.

It's a while before Steve speaks up to ask, "Hey, how do you even know when my birthday is? The last person I told was probably Tommy Hagan in the eighth grade. And Robin, of course, but I swore her to secrecy."

"Oh god," Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pull back to look at him fully. Eddie's head lulls to the side as he looks at him with an adorably embarrassed and caught expression. "So... don't hate me for this, but this happened a few years ago. And... do I really have to tell you?"

"It's my birthday, you have to tell me," Steve replies.

Eddie huffs, ever so dramatically, and grabs Steve's hands before confessing, "So, I stole your wallet a few times."

Steve can't help but laugh at the absurd confession. "When?"

"It was back in your sophomore year probably. We had some horrible science class together, and you sat right in front of me, and well... My friends and I made this hypothesis, very scientific, that some rich kids, including you, wouldn't notice if a dollar or two went missing from their wallets." Steve snorts, and Eddie smiles. "And you had this horrible habit of leaving the front pocket of your backpack open so..."

"Occasionally you would steal anywhere from one to five dollars from my wallet? And one time you managed to swipe ten," Steve fills in for him, vividly remembering something he hadn't thought about in years.

Eddie's eyes widen. "So, my hypothesis was wrong."

"No, you're just less subtle than you think you are."

There's a moment where Eddie just stares at him incredulously. "You're telling me, you let me steal from you? And you didn't beat me up for it?"

Steve shrugs, thinking about the first time it had happened, and he had truly considered it, but he realized. "I knew you needed it more than I did. But that's not what we're talking about. How did this lead you to finding out about my birthday?"

"It was on your driver's license, and I ended up memorizing it in case you had a big party that I could sell at. But then it just... stuck." Eddie looks down at their hands for a moment before he looks up and states, "And we're not about to breeze past this. I must've stolen at least thirty dollars from you!" He lets go of one of Steve's hands to grab his wallet off the coffee table. "For your birthday, let me pay you back."

Steve laughs and shakes his head. "You are not giving me thirty dollars for my birthday. And don't fight me on this, or I'll end up telling Dustin you gave me money without hesitation."

Eddie frowns at him and reluctantly puts his wallet back down. He leans over to Steve and cups his face as he plants a kiss onto his forehead. "You're never who I think you are, Steve Harrington."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve asks as his eyes glance down at his lips.

"A very good thing. It means I'll never give up on you," Eddie says with a teasing lilt but Steve knows that he means it.

"Same to you."

Eddie's teasing smile falters as he looks at Steve. One of his thumbs swipes at a remaining tear trail.

Steve's heart beats a little harder and he can't stop staring at Eddie's lips. He wonders when that became a thing.

"There's one thing you could do for me for my birthday," Steve breaths out.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks quietly.

Steve doesn't answer him, he just leans in slowly, closing his eyes when his nose brushes against Eddie's. But then he feels Eddie gently pull away.

"Earlier, I said I wanted you to remember when I blow your mind, Steve."

Steve's eyes flutter open. "I'm not that far gone."

Eddie sighs and mumbles, "I can't believe I'm doing this," and raises his voice to say, "I'll kiss you when I can't smell wine on your breath, deal?"

"Deal," Steve says, holding out his hand.

Eddie laughs as he shakes it, then grabs it to pull them both up.

"Bedtime?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, turning off the TV before leading the way to the kitchen to get two glasses of water before heading to Steve's room.

Steve knows exactly when that became a thing - the second time Eddie was over at his house, and he had a nightmare in the guest room. Steve now insists that he sleeps with him anytime he's over.

When they get into bed on their by-now-established sides, Steve can't help but say, "I think this is the best birthday I've had in a long time." He sighs and reaches out to grab Eddie's hand laying between them. "Maybe next year I'll tell everyone."

"Or we can make up a fake birthday for you that happens to fall sometime next week, and next year we'll pretend that everyone remembered the wrong date."

Steve laughs and squeezes Eddie's hand. "Or next week, I can take you on a date."

"Shh," Eddie quickly shushes him, "This definitely means it's time for you to go to bed."

"I can't wait for you to blow my mind in the morning," Steve says instead of trying and failing to fight Eddie on the fact that he's more coherent than he thinks he is. Besides, the faster he falls asleep, the sooner tomorrow will come.

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, slightly amused.

"Goodnight, Eds."

Much to Eddie's surprise, he wakes up to Steve asking for a kiss. And he very much blows his mind.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

cw: hair pulling, 141 sexcapade discussion.

"You know, I've never understood it," Gaz said, folding another hand as the cards Nik turned over on the table ruined his chance of a Full House. They'd had a few, so Gaz's brain was wading slowly towards its point when Soap folded too.

"Ye dinnae ken much, Garrick. Ye gonnae have tae narrow it doon."

Ghost raked in his winnings and then stood with a grunted, "need a slash."

Gaz scowled and flipped over one of the cards they'd been playing with before Nik could tidy it away. The set was raunchy, with depictions of busty girls in various states of undress and intimacy. The Ace of Spades had a brunette facing out of the card, her lover behind her with one hand in her hair. "Why do girls ask for this?"

"Why ask for doggy?" Soap asked, smirking around the top of his beer bottle.

"Nah, mate. The hair pulling. I've had at least two birds ask me for it. It can't be fuckin' good, can it?"

"Aye, well, I dunnae tend tae pull the freaky ones, so..."

"Alright, alright. Shut it. Nik, help me out here." Gaz looked over at their dealer, who was busy expertly shuffling the cards for the next round.

"There is a right way and a wrong way to pull hair, sergeant," Nik said.

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Da, observe." Nik placed the deck down carefully and turned towards Soap. "The wrong way is to grab a random tuft," he lifted a large palm and snagged a handful of Soap's mohawk, shaking him from side to side, "and just start pulling them about. It is wrong. Hurts, no?"

"Ah, Jesus fuck, Nik," Soap squawked, batting at Nik's forearm. "Aye. Feels like ye scalpin' me."

Ghost returned, chuckling low in his throat at Soap's bleats of protest. He rolled his bally up over his nose and took a swig of bourbon, observing the little scene he'd stumbled back in on with interest. "Li'le scrote finally run his mouth too much, Nikolai?"

"Naw, Nik's showin' Garrick how t' pull a lady's hair in bed." Soap growled, head still tilted at an odd angle where Nik had scruffed the strip of ferret fur he called a hairstyle.

"Oh yeah?" Ghost's eyes slid over to Nik, lingering on the hand that released Soap's mohawk. "G'won then, show us the proper way."

"Regrettably, the sergeants both favour the short back and sides, but yours is longer." Nik rose to his feet, matching Ghost in height and bulk. Ghost's hackles should go up, but with Nik, they hadn't in years. It had something to do with how Price was around him, Ghost reckoned. When your damn leader relaxed, you were relaxed. Like a good dog. Nik spread his hands. "May I, lieutenant? Your mask will remain on."

"C'mon, L.T. Lessee."

"I'll buy you a drink at the pub when we get home, sir."

Ghost swallowed, levelling Nik with a heavy stare. "Ya pull my hairline as far as yours and we'll 'ave a problem," he murmured, emptying his glass before placing it down on the table. When Nik stepped into space, he got a hit of expensive cologne and engine oil that sat pleasantly on the back of his tongue. Damn handsome bastard too, all things considered. Ghost tried not to scrutinise what having him so close did to his heart.

Nik's hand settled on Ghost's shoulder first and then slid around the back of his neck, careful to keep his thumb tucked to avoid Ghost's throat.

"You slide your hand up their neck through the roots at the back," he said softly, his hand moving as he spoke, fingertips sliding beneath Simon's bally to the softness of his blond hair. "And you pull upwards, keeping your fingers close to their scalp."

What was left of Ghost's soul left his body momentarily as Nik pulled. His belly did a little flip, his knees suddenly weak, shoulders rising as he sucked in a shocked gasp. The sensation that bristled over his scalp settled behind his eyes, and they rolled closed as it continued down his spine. The world screeched to a halt as Ghost zeroed in on the man before him, his instincts firing off like sparkplugs in an engine struggling to turn over. Frozen.

Nik was watching him closely, his head tilted to the side. "It should not cause pain, but it is a... mammalian response, like a cat scruffing its kitten. It should inspire a feeling of pleasure in submission."

Ghost couldn't breathe. His eyes flickered open and he zoned in on Nik's dark eyes, the fullness of his lips and the unshaven scruff of stubble around his jawline. In that breathless moment, Ghost's entire body tingled with heat and want. He could feel Nik's warmth, so close and yet not touching him at all but for the hand in his hair; a sturdy bulwark waiting to catch him. What Ghost would give to press his face into the open collar of his shirt and rub through the dark hair he could see there, while--

"'Ear that, L.T.? Ye like a big fuckin' kitten."

Soap's jibe broke the spell and Nik released Ghost's hair, stepping out of his space to return to his seat. His gaze lingered on Ghost's eyes before he turned, and for a tense second Ghost was fockin' worried he'd be outed for whatever the hell that was. But Nik sat down with a nonchalant shrug.

"Shut it, Johnny," Ghost grunted. "Don' see what all the fuss is about."

"Aye, ye tell 'em, sir. Missionary with the lights off fully clothed is the only way, eh?"

Ghost flipped Soap his middle finger and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. "Gonna hit the sack, long day tomorrow. Don' fuck around too late." He left the room at what he hoped was a reasonable pace, but his mind was already elsewhere, namely on the aching boner stretching down his right trouser leg. He was grateful no one could read minds; if he was thinking of Nik as he had a sad, furious and slightly drunk wank, then that was between him and god.

Nik watched Ghost's retreating back over the rim of his vodka glass, his head tilted to the side in thoughtful consideration. The embers he had watched flare to life in those somber brown eyes were unmistakable. He had seen similar in two twin baby blues only two mornings ago.

Khoroshego vam nastroyeniya i do vstrechi, Simon.

[moonlight-prose]

“please don’t make me say it if you aren’t going to say it back” with a desperately in love with joel reader would hit so much…

weaved around your finger like yarn

a/n: me writing for joel again?? this has sat in my inbox for over a year and i never meant to actually take this long with it. but i finally figured out how to write this concept. and now i am actually obsessed with the small world of softness i created for these two. this is yes jackson joel, but nothing bad happens ever to him because why would it? it's all fine right?

summary: he never made space in his life for love in the aftermath of destruction. the after of his life he once thought would extend past decades of gray hair, smile lines carved in around his mouth now set in frowns and sneers. but snowfall and alcohol blur the lines for both of you when winter comes to jackson.

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, love confessions, heavy makeout sessions, alcohol consumption, tipsy joel, sad joel, laughter at the end of the world, hope.

He can't remember laughing until his stomach hurt. The ache that spilled into his chest, warming his insides with a sun like quality that left him shivering. He can't recall the feel of his cheeks pulled so wide the sensation became a phantom pain seconds after. He knows it happened. He can distinctly recall the jokes, the joy. But the laughter lingers like a ghost at the back of his mind—translucent and gray and distorted enough to feel false.

Alcohol simmers in his stomach with a rueful intent. A malignant aftermath that would hit him in a few hours after two months of attempted sobriety. Ellie insisted, he accepted. Easy enough to say. Difficult to follow through with.

He had his days where whiskey sounded better than the flavor of bacon Tommy would bring him in the early mornings. But the dismay in your eyes helped him hold off, regain his awareness of a world not yet shattered. For once in quite a long time...he finally lived. For you, for Ellie, for Sarah.

He lived to see his hair grow longer and the grays appear more frequently. To drink coffee in the mornings on a porch you were already settled on. To help you fix small things here and there in your cabin next door. He lived for your smile, the light in your eyes. The curve of your lips as they pulled up into bolstering peals of laughter—the furrow in your brow as you frowned from endless frustrations on long hard days.

Joel Miller lived to love you.

He existed to dig his heels in and wait shit out—it's what he was good at, what he knew how to do. But for you he relented quicker than ice on a hot asphalt driveway back home in Texas. His mind became sand that slipped through your giving hands—heart a fluttering mess that sang a tune he could never get right on the guitar stashed in his living room.

Days bloomed into weeks which grew into months. Eventually a year passed and what used to be difficult and awkward to be around people again, felt like breathing the fresh winter air. The jackets he managed to find hung on hooks by the door, a pair of heavy boots beside the small table Tommy crafted him.

The mornings were nice. When hot water hit ground coffee and the aroma plagued his kitchen for hours at a time. The evenings called you towards him—simple cooking skills shared in the confines of a home he pined for you to reside in.

Life was a sliver of peace he never imagined he'd get again. But the hole in his heart never faded, the pain still rang out sharp enough to have him clamping down on the inside of his cheek. And your smile made his stomach ache with a longing deep enough to scar.

Tommy told him to buck up and do something. Ellie called him a fucking idiot.

You...gave no indication you felt the same way. So silent and reserved he would remain.

Your feet slid on icy, fingers gripping tightly to his jacket with a yelp in a quick attempt to save yourself from slamming to the ground. Joel snickered loud and brash and a wash of embarrassment burned under frozen cheeks. Dragging you up, his arm looped tightly around your waist—hand pressed harsh and insistent to the small of your back. You swallowed the butterflies at the sight of his face flushed red—eyes shining from the effect of too much whiskey.

"We were bad tonight," you muttered, breath forming a cloud between your faces.

He grinned—skin buzzing at the close proximity of your form. "Only a little bit."

"You're not supposed to drink Joel."

Leaning in he traded his smile like a secret; you tucked it into your chest with a sharp breath. "I won't tell if you don't, darlin'."

"Joel..."

"C'mon. No one's gettin' in trouble here."

A blade pierced your heart brutally—spilling crimson along pale white snow. Even as Joel remained entirely unaware of how you clung to him. How your body called his name—your mind plagued with thoughts of his being, with images of his smile, with the sound of his raspy voice. He'd never know the way you cherished each moment with him. The mornings tucked away from an unruly world—the nights shared between friends who might one day be more.

Your teeth scraped along the cracked skin of your bottom lip, eyes cast up to the curl of his lips. The words sprang forth faster than you could drag them back. Your chest of secrets unlocked and bared to the man who drowned you in his small flecks of joy. Later you'd blame the alcohol. When the headache ravaged your head and an ache lingered between your thighs.

Later you'd comb over every small glance and breathy word.

"I like spending time with you Joel," you breathed, fingers toying with the front of his leather coat. "I like...um..."

The breath caught in his throat, gaze desperate to catch yours. "Yeah sugar?"

"It's a hard thing to say." Another cloud of your whiskey tinged breath filled the air.

"You can tell me anythin'. You know that right?" Even as hope flared bright and scorching through the width of his chest. "I'll listen."

Hesitation spilled into the night, your voice a soft whisper he barely caught. "Please don't make me say it if you aren't going to say it back."

Oh didn't you know?

Did you not see how his gaze dug beneath the layers of flesh and bone, of tendons and veins that clung to your form? Did you not understand he would take a bullet for you? That he'd bear the wound of a warrior's death to keep you alive? How could you not know that his love stuck to his tongue with a saccharine bitterness he swallowed down like the drugs he once took to numb his mind?

You healed pieces of his soul you never broke. A marred and fucked puzzle that was meant to find a home six feet underground. By his own hand no less. He was destined to die—born to suffer—yet you swathed him wool with the promise of a peaceful life.

A future etched by the hands of love.

"Say it," he pleaded, frozen hand cupping your cheek.

"It's more than just that." The breath you took shot adrenaline down his spine. "I like our mornings. I like our dinners and conversation. And even when you come into town with me. But I...I love..."

The glossy nature of your eyes created by unshed tears that pooled at your waterline dug the knife deep enough to meld it within his heart. You didn't know. You couldn't have. His silence, his hesitation, swallowed every emotion he might have told you—every secret uttered in the shadows of night that told only half his story.

He told you about Sarah. About their life together, about her smile. That in itself felt like a proclamation of love—a key to the heart he thought stopped beating long ago.

"I knew it would freak you out," you muttered, pulling away from his hold.

Only for him to panic. His hand gripped the back of your jacket, pushing you towards him hard enough for your feet to slip again. But your gasp was swallowed by the cold press of his mouth to yours. Lips chapped by the winter air slid against your parted mouth as you froze against his chest. Your hands hung listlessly at your sides. He kissed you tenderly, attempting to wake you from the spell of shock, but to no avail did it bring you back.

"'M sorry." His words were muffled against your chin, forehead pressed to yours and eyes squeezed shut. "I shouldn't have–"

The press of your fingers into his cheeks jolted him back—eyes wide as you dragged him back with a stifled moan. Your mouth found his tongue hot and wet along his bottom lip in a pleading motion he complied to instantly. Stepping forward he fell into you with a deep groan. One that echoed and vibrated right down to your stomach—one you savored with a lick along his back teeth.

Hands cupped your ass with an insistent need to mold you closer, fingers digging into the plush flesh he longed to bite and taste. You tasted like whiskey. You smelled like him. It made him dizzy with want, anxious to lead you back to his porch—to seat you on his kitchen counter in the mornings while the coffee went cold.

"Fuck I wanna take ya home sugar," he grunted, biting at your lower lip with a grin.

Your breathless reply made the hair stand on the back of his neck. "You can."

"No." He shook his head, stealing another kiss with a gritty moan. "Not tonight. 'M gonna do this proper."

"Proper," you smiled, tugging on the longer curls you refused to let him cut. "You're such an old man Miller."

The large breadth of his hand cupped your chin, pushing the cheeks he lightly bit into together. "Won't be sayin' that tomorrow when I ain't got all this fuckin' alcohol in me."

"Yeah?" The droop of your eyelids—the darkened iris now filled with lust—set his teeth on edge. His body hummed with a new buzz he craved since meeting you. "Prove it."

"Oh I will." He grinned sharply, licking his teeth like a wolf waiting to pounce. "Don't you worry 'bout that."

A glimmer in your eyes caught his attention, the grip on your face loosening. "You know I love you right darlin'?"

You smiled—big and bright—and Joel felt another piece of his soul set back into place. "I love you too Joel."

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- the aha moment

or...how they realize they're in love with you

seungcheol doesn't get that aha moment, falling in love isn't something that happens within seconds for him. it's like he's slowly drifting into love, not even realizing you've become the focal point of his entire existence. when it finally hits him, it's a quiet, simple moment. he's watching you make him breakfast in the morning, admiring you quietly from the kitchen counter. he zones out for a moment, blinking suddenly and realizing damn. that's my woman. and he knows he's ruined for life.

it's kind of silly, how jeonghan realizes he's in love with you. he's just returned home from a busy day at work, entering the house to find it empty. searching the place top to bottom, he's about to call you when - BOO - you jump out from one of the closets and scares the soul out of him. he's clutching his chest, watching as you collapse onto the ground in a fit of giggles. he can't help but laugh along, realizing through the chaos that he's found his soulmate, and he'd be damned not to admit he's in love with you.

joshua's a simple man by nature. he's easily happy in life, only needing his members, his job, his lifestyle, and of course, you. it doesn't take long into your relationship before he realizes he's in love, as the two of you take a stroll along the Han River after a long day. he's watching the setting sun reflect against your figure, taking his phone out to snap a few pictures. it's when he notices his camera roll is full of pictures of you does he think well, that's it. i'm in love.

upon meeting his family, jun notices how much work you've put into it. you're doing your best to speak his town's dialect, communicating with his parents in a language that made them most comfortable. his heart swells when he sees you amidst his childhood home, trading stories and eating with the people who raised him. it's when he notes that you look so perfect here that he realizes you just fit. he's in love.

as if everything else is with soonyoung, his aha moment is full of fireworks and pizzazz. having just finished the most record breaking performance of his life, he finds himself with one thought only: i want to go home. usually, it's because he's tired. but now, ever since you stumbled into his life, he finds himself wanting, needing, to go home so he can hold you and recite everything that happened today. he's practically thrumming with energy to rush home, and everyone around him sees what is so painfully obvious. he's so in love.

wonwoo's always credited himself to be a loner. not a lot of people can fit with his quiet personality, so when you offer the idea of "parallel play" he's a little confused. his heart warms when you explain that you don't mind doing separate things as long as you're in the same area, understanding that he needs more time to himself than others might. it's when you tell him you love him enough to compromise does he think im so in love with this girl right now.

woozi's used to writing songs dedicated to his fans and members. he sits down for another writing session, brainstorming ideas and the thought of you pops into his mind. he shrugs, thinking it might be nice to mix it up a bit, sitting down to write something about you. it's when he reads his own words back does he realize he's irrevocably screwed and so in love with you. thought about settling down, buying her a house and saying screw the music. yeah, he's in love.

having always been a realist, minghao doesn't necessary believe in true love, or love at first sight. he understands there's going to be someone out there for him, but he's skeptical that that someone is going to be perfect. all his beliefs go out the window the moment he sees you - it's like you're surrounded by a golden glow - and he realizes maybe love at first sight can be real.

seokmin loves and gives as easy as breathing. he's always been a generous guy, and it's when you sit him down and kindly remind him to leave some for himself does he stare at you and realize ok i've found the one. you've become that steadiness in his life that used to be just his members, and you love and give to him like it's as simple as breathing too.

having always been the resident cook, mingyu's eyeing your food creation like it's some kind of poison or drug. he had insisted you didn't need to cook for him, he's always been the cook and doesn't mind it, but you were stubborn and he relented. it's when the first bite blows him away does he realize he kinda misses having someone cook for him too. if you're this good at cooking i might just have to marry you, he says, ignoring how you blush, going back for another bite.

seungkwan's always been the entertainer. he doesn't mind it, he enjoys the fact it's his job to make everyone laugh. but when times get tough and he's in no mood to be the entertainer, you're right there to support him. it's when he gets home to you after a particularly rough day and you welcome him in with open arms, murmuring how he's done well and doesn't need to do more. it's when he realizes he can just be seungkwan - not seungkwan the entertainer, but just seungkwan - and he loves you for that.

vernon never really thought about finding the one. he always just assumed that they would find him. and that's exactly what happens, when you bump into each other at the movie theatre - both there alone just cause. it's when you're enthusiastically going band for band with vernon about movies that he's forced with the realization that shit. maybe i have found the one.

chan's always known he was in love with you. he doesn't like to admit it cause he thinks it makes him sound sappy, but he truly never questioned his love for you. it was a simple thing in his mind - this person makes me so fucking happy - i must be in love. and how could it not be simple for him? he's staring at you quipping about some joke to his friends and he's thinking i love you. he's watching you just wake up from a nap and he's thinking i love you. he sees a text from you on his phone mid-dance practice. i love you. he's always been in love with you because he loves everything to do with you.