#tv show panic

[biggestsimponhere]

Be safe

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➻ Synopsis: The second challenge of panic you watch your boyfriend dangle 50ft in the air and almost die, this includes your reaction, how he calms you down and also everyone else’s reaction to finding out dodge has a partner (not very much of the latter)

➻ Requests are always welcome!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Panic. It’s a stupid game really, at least, it is to you. You thought watching your boyfriend jump into the lake from the high point was scary but it was nothing compared to this. The Granary. The challenge, walk across the metal beam between the two towers, it sounds simple enough except for the fact that the beam is clearly highly unstable. Drew goes, Shawna goes, Ray goes, Heather goes. Then dodges name gets called, you tense beside him but try not to show any emotions.

He heads up and starts walking like it’s just another day and he’s walking down the sidewalk. A green light just barely visible from where you’re standing shines up towards dodge, he falls, barely hanging onto the beam with one hand. Fifty feet. Fifty feet in the air. You hold back the scream of his name that wants to come out. He looks down then back up before he’s swinging his other arm to grab the beam too. He swings back up onto the beam skilfully. As soon as he’s across he’s down the ladder and walking fast.

You can tell where’s he’s going and you wouldn’t normally stop him but right now you can’t help it. “Dodge” He stops at the sound of your voice, he softens slightly, just barely visible. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around him. A few gasps come from the others but he ignores them all in favour of tightening his arms around you and burying his face in your hair. Sirens sound as police cars roll into the area. Someone shouts and everyone takes off. Dodge pulls you and heather off behind something before he sees natalie twist her ankle.

The three of you run over and help natalie up and into the forest. We run till we can get far enough to let natalie sit down. Dodge checks over her ankle to make sure nothings broken, you can’t help the twist of jealousy in your gut as she looks at him. They joke around for a minute as dodge makes her a makeshift wrap.

Natalie’s eyes drift from dodge to you. “So… i didn’t know you guys were together” You look down slightly embarrassed that you let the secret out.

“Yeah we were uh keeping it under wraps” Dodge answers as he moves from the ground to your side. Then Heather walks back over to tell Natalie that Bishop is on his way to get them.

The two leave soon after and dodge leads you out of the woods and down a side street to his car. He gets in the drivers seat and you slide into the passengers seat. You stare out the window as he starts the car and drives. You don’t say anything, the shock of the whole thing not having left your system.

“Do you want to come to mine or go to yours?” He asks, it’s a simple question but you’re still not sure how to answer. You don’t want to leave him but you also just want to curl up in your bed and cry.

“I-… i want to come home with you” You say quietly. He turns and looks at you as you continue looking out the window. He pulls the car to the side of the road.

“Look at me” He says softly, you turn slightly. He hooks a finger under your chin and turns your face towards him fully. The tear streaks are obvious on your face, he wipes them away softly, touching you like you’re delicate.

“What’s going on?” He asks even though he knows exactly what it is. You frown, he almost died and he’s seriously asking what’s wrong. “You’re really asking me that” He sighs, he knew that was coming. “I’m okay baby” He murmured as he rubbed your cheek softly. You nod, you know he’s okay but that doesn’t stop the ache in your chest.

“Come here” He coaxes you out of your seat. You climb over the compartment in the middle and into his lap. He holds you against his chest. You curl against him. You mutter something under your breath that he can’t quite make out. He hums and asks you to say it louder.

“You almost died” You say quietly as if saying it louder would make it happen. “I didn’t” he leans down and kisses your forehead. You breathe a little easier as you burrow further into his warmth.

“let’s get home baby” he says into your hair, you move out of his lap and he drives to his house. You go straight in passing his mom and sister in the living room and going to his bedroom. You practically collapse on his bed and you can hear him talking to them but you don’t know what he’s saying. He comes in a few minutes after and changes into his pajamas.

“Do you want something comfier to sleep in? Jeans aren’t the best for sleep” He says as he digs through his drawer. You nod and he passes you a tshirt and a pair of his sleep shorts. You change and climb back into bed, he follows. The two of you practically meld together. “I know you’re scared but i can do it” He murmurs into your neck. “I know you can i just- i can’t lose you” You bury yourself in him, almost like you wish you could crawl into him.

He softens at your tone and pulls you closer. “You won’t lose me. I promise” he presses a soft kiss to your hair before the two of you drift off.

[artsangell]

[traumatrios]

the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely. 

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular. 

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 

Were you opposed? Not entirely. 

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

[sunsburns]

thinking about good ol’ dodge mason who is utterly in love and very much obsessed with you, his hot girlfriend. and i’m talking head over heels, would do anything, and everyone needs to know who his girlfriend is and how much he loves and adores you and.. well, how he gets to fuck you.

he keeps photos of you and him in his wallet. and he rotates the pictures around every week or so, and takes a new one of you whenever he can. it’s definitely not in a creepy or perverted way. totally not. just in a way that he can see you when he's away, or jerk off to something when you're gone.

he just loves to show you off, can’t believe a girl like you would be down to be for a guy like him. how you saw him in a crowded room, how you want him around, how you kiss him gently as the sun rises, how your laugh makes his stomach turn and cheeks flush, how you say his name in bed like he’s the only person in the world you know. the breathless, whiny moans of his name, slipping form between your lips, getting caught in the back of your throat. yea, he loves that shit.

[nerd4music]

THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE | S1E2: Gone

[jesuistrestriste]

happy holidays to these pictures of mike faist specifically

[dancingdaffodils08]

I just wanted to watch the new West Side Story because I love Rachel Zegler.

But then THIS mf has the audacity to show up:

And my first thought was “oh he would HATE Art Donaldson.”

[ecnmatic]

PANIC (2021) Season One created Lauren Oliver.

[thekaina]

YOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭🏳️‍🌈

[dirtbagdefender]

[watchyourbuck]

Eddie having a panic attack at the thought of spending his life with Ana makes it really hard for me to consider him straight tbh sjdjdjdjnd

[sugashook]

the lover of beauty and the beauty!

[artsangell]

Need to be punished by dilf Art :((

I imagine that Art isn't the type to be super mean when he's domming, but you just do something that really pisses him off. The first few times you called him names and flirted with his colleagues, he let it go. blamed it on you just messing around. What he won't excuse is blatant disrespect, when you (somehow) manage to drag him to a nightclub and start dancing on some idiot,he fully loses his shit.

Which is how you ended up laying over his lap,his hand continuously spanking you like he hates you. Art makes you thank him after every slap too :((

When you forget one too many times to thank him for it, he flips you around and starts slapping your cunt.

"If you don't show me you have some godamn manners right now, I won't fuck you for a week."

He's bluffing but you don't need to know that. Tears are streaming down your face, you let out a strangled cry when he gives your poor cunt a harsh slap.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm sorry"

Your voice comes out strangled, he wipes a tear from your face. The juxtaposition of him just abusing your pussy and now caressing you almost makes your head hurt.

"Aw poor baby"

He coo's at you in an almost mocking tone. "Gonna be good for me now right?"

[traumatrios]

southern manners, DODGE MASON

warnings… SMUT, dacryphilia, car sex, oral (fem!recieving), mean!dodge

josie’s notes! knee deep in the passenger seat? yeah. um whipped this up after reading @sunsburns new fic 😞 dodge agenda in action!!

“Dodge.”

It brings him out of his haze between your thighs, and though it was meant to grab his attention, you loathed the sudden absence of his tongue prodding at your entrance.

“What?” It sort of comes out in a spat, and you swear you could feel a couple prickles against your stomach from the moisture sprung from his mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was the wetness between your legs or his saliva, though.

You swallow before continuing. “Won’t someone see? Cars are made of windows, you know.”

He rolls his eyes at your protest, but then a smirk plays against his lips and assures you he isn’t really annoyed.

“Yeah, I know that. This is my car. Nobody will see you, sweetheart, jus’ trust me, okay?”

When he asks like that, how could you say no?

A couple more minutes go by with his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt with the company of his tongue pressing against your clit, and you just lay there in the reclined passenger seat with your nails searching for anything to dig into. They eventually find the tufts of brunette hair that adorn Dodge’s skull.

His jeans stretch against his thighs and cause the boner tented at the apex of his thighs to strain against the denim more than usual due to the position he was in. Dodge held one knee on the floor of your side of his car with the other lunging on top of the passenger seat.

The knee laid in the middle of your thighs, building a barrier to restrict your squirming legs from pressing together. Instead, he felt the gummy walls of your pussy squeezing around his digits as they familiarized themselves with the ridges inside of you.

Your eyelids fought against the urge to squeeze shut from the pleasure he struck upon your quivering body, but the image of his shoulder blades sticking through the thin material of his t-shirt in his hunched state was too sweet to miss. They seemed to move with every nod and shake of his head against your cunt.

Soon, you felt tears begin to spring from your eyes, and the heaving of your chest was beginning to grow from the influx of emotion.

“Dodge… god— please,” you’d beg through growing sobs and it seemed to spur Dodge on even more. You assumed that from the harsh way his lips began to suck on your clit, but he was soon shooting up from your hips and looking at you.

You felt like you had shrunken under his glare. Dodge’s fingers, the same that had just been poking through your belly, gripped the sides of your chin in a piercing hold.

“Let me ask you one question,” he wet his lips before continuing, “do you want this?”

You nod, though the slick spreading against the flush of your cheeks was quite distracting.

“Then why the fuck are you crying? You that pathetic? Can’t even take my fingers without crying like a baby?”

You bite your lips, the salty tears collecting in the dip of your cupids box spreading across your tongue. You swallow again at the slight cock of his head. He wanted you to answer.

“No sir,” you blurt. Dodge knew how your manners caught up to you after all these years growing up in Texas, and god how he loved it.

But with the way red rimmed your eyes and streaks of tears were shining underneath the fluorescent lights of his car wasn’t helping with your case.

“Now you’re lying to me. Why would you lie to me, baby? Are you trying to hurt me?”

The questions were too much for your fucked-out mind, so all you could do was shake your head.

“‘S what I thought.”

Dodge wouldn’t admit it to you, or anyone, but he liked seeing you cry under his hand. The glistening tears that fell from your eyes felt like they coursed through his veins when they reached the tips of his fingers digging into your jaw. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d react to his dick inside of you.

Dodge just looked at you for what felt like forever, especially when your cunt was pleaing to be stuffed again. Dodge filled it with his dick, this time.

traumatrios, 2024

[sunsburns]

lonely dancers

pairing: dodge mason x gn!reader

summary: with graduation just around the corner, you're sitting alone in the local diner at carp and struggling to come up with anything for your valedictorian speech, unluckily for you, dodge mason is bored and wants to start a little conversation, maybe get a something out of you about panic.

—or: dodge offers you a fair trade

word count: 1.7k+

contains: fluff, kinda ooc dodge (i lowkey messed up his character a bit).

author’s note: i had this sitting in my drafts for a few months now, and i had no idea what to do with it near the end but i thought it was kinda cute so i decided to keep it and leave it as it was and have it up for interpretation. enjoy!

The new guy was interesting. He had caught your attention. Well, he had caught the attention of a lot of people in Carp; because everyone had known each other since diapers and had seen each other grow up in a town that never changes; because he was the first change in Carp in a long time; because he was different.

Dodge Mason didn't talk much, not unless he was spoken to or wanted something from you. You'd only ever spoken to him once, in class during the first semester when he was still fairly new. He sat next to you during English and leaned over to ask if you had a spare pen. And that was it.

No one knew where he came from, why he moved into town, or if he knew about Panic.

He didn't have any social media, no way of finding out any trace of his past unless he told you, but the chances of that were slim.

What everyone did know was that he worked at the diner with his mom. And you liked the diner; it was one of the few places you and your friends liked to hang out on your days off from school or work. The food was good, the people were decent, and the air conditioning was just cool enough to wear long sleeves inside without suffocating in the early weeks of summer.

You were counting off the days until you finally graduated, a little ecstatic now that you could count them on your fingers. But there were still more days left of school than the words you had written for your valedictorian speech.

The blank document on your laptop screen stared at you, the blinking cursor taunting you every time you deleted anything you wrote.

You only looked away when a drink you never ordered was set by your hand. You glanced at the person who put it down, almost startled to find Dodge Mason already staring at you with raised eyebrows from the other side of the bar table.

"Oh," you watched him toss a rag over his shoulder and wondered how long you'd been sitting there and when his mom left and he came in for his shift. "I never ordered—"

"I know," he said simply, shrugging. "You look like you need it."

You furrowed your brows and brought the glass closer to your lips. You could smell the faint hints of cranberries mixed with something else.

"It's a virgin Shirley Temple," he told you. "I can't serve you alcohol on the clock."

"Right," you muttered, finally taking a sip of your drink. You felt your face scrunch up as the bubbles fizzed down your throat. "I knew that. Thanks."

You expected him to leave you alone after that. The diner wasn't exactly busy, but a customer would come in every now and then, usually just asking for water between shifts at work. Dodge stayed nearby, keeping himself busy scooping up ice cubes and tossing them back into the bucket, glancing your way every once in a while.

You pretended not to notice, forcing your eyes back to your blank document. You could only stare at the screen for so long without getting a headache. You shut your laptop and sighed, pulling the drink close to you again and sipping at the straw.

Dodge moved closer now, no longer lingering near your presence but rather leaning on the counter between you. He rested his elbows on the olive-green wood, the corners of the paint already chipping off, and he rested his chin on the knuckles of his fist. "What're you working on?" he asked. "My mom said you've been sitting there since noon."

You couldn't help the flush that rose to your face, a mix of irritation and embarrassment.

It wasn't just the frustration of having spent most of your Thursday in the dingy diner, staring at a blank document for your valedictorian speech. It was also the fact that this was the most you'd ever heard Dodge Mason speak, and his sudden interest in your plight was unexpected and unnerving.

"Just this stupid speech. I don't know what to say," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He made a face, leaning away from the counter and tapping his fingers against it in a messy beat. "That sucks," he huffed out, a hint of amusement in his voice. "For you."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "No shit."

"Talk out of your ass," Dodge told you bluntly. "No one listens to the speeches at graduation anyways."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his audacity. "I never said what it was for."

"You didn't need to. Everyone knows you're valedictorian."

"Yeah, but," you stammered, struggling to articulate your thoughts, "you're the new guy."

"Hardly," he rolled his eyes, taking the empty cup from your hands and starting to make you a fresh drink. "I've been here for almost a year now."

"You know what I mean," you insisted.

"Do I?" Dodge Mason turned to pour something into the drink from behind him. You watched closely as he reached for a small box on the upper shelves, took out a tiny umbrella, and placed it in your new drink before turning to you again. "Here."

"What is it?" you asked, taking the drink from his hands.

"Virgin piña colada," he said, watching you take a sip. "Good?"

You nodded, letting the straw slip from between your lips. "Very."

He smiled, and you found it almost disconcerting. The rarity of it intrigued you, and you were sure it was the first time you'd seen him smile in a way that wasn't sarcastic. It almost threw you off balance, and you briefly reminded yourself that he didn't usually talk to anyone unless he wanted something from them.

But what could he possibly want from you?

"What have you come up with so far?" he asked, breaking your train of thought.

You blinked at him, momentarily lost. "Huh?"

"For your speech," he clarified.

"Oh, nothing."

He seemed genuinely surprised. "Nothing?"

You nodded again, feeling a bit sheepish. "Nada."

"You do realize graduation is next week, right?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I don't see you offering any help," you shot back.

"I'm being helpful," he retorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"How so?"

"I'm giving you drinks, on the house."

You slowly opened your laptop again, your eyes never leaving his. He smiled at you sweetly, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat. You noticed the glint in his eye and couldn't help but ask, "What's the catch?"

"No catch. I get to practice my bartending, and you get to sit there and enjoy it."

"While you start small talk," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with a little small talk?" he asked, leaning closer, his voice softening.

"Nothing's wrong with it," you shook your head, letting the screen turn on and the same blank document open before you. "It's the fact that you're initiating it. What do you want?"

He didn't seem too upset to be caught by you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. "I want you to tell me about Panic."

Shit. You didn't expect him to ask you about that. Perhaps literally anything other than Panic. You decided to play dumb.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, yes you do." He saw right through you, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. The sound sent a shiver down your spine. "Don't act like everyone else when I ask. You know the game. Are you playing?"

"Playing? What are you even talking about?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but the closeness and his unwavering gaze made it difficult.

"You're smart." He didn't falter, "I bet you're a judge this year, right?"

"A judge?" you tried not to seem flattered at his assumption. "Me?"

"It's you, isn't it? No one would suspect it. You're always too busy drowning yourself in school work—"

"There's much else to do here—"

"—and you keep to yourself a lot."

"I have friends," you insisted, though your voice wavered slightly. His relentless scrutiny was making it hard to think straight.

"I'm sure you do," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes that made your stomach flutter.

"You're being a dick," you retorted, staring at him blankly. Despite your words, you couldn't help but feel a strange comfort in the way the two of you had smoothly fit into a rhythm where you were comfortable enough to call him out.

"Okay, I'm sorry." He visibly deflated from the other side of the counter, leaning on his arms and frowning. It's unexpected, and it tugged at something inside you. "I'm sorry, okay? I just... it's hard. Being here, making friends. Everyone's known each other since forever, and I don't know..."

You tried not to seem too surprised, for his sake. You never realized how much it would suck to be in his place, especially after moving to a town like Carp, where people still called you new after being there for over a year and stared at you like you were an alien just because they didn't know you. And, for his sake, you were not about to lie to him either.

"Well, you're not exactly the most approachable guy." When he stared at you blankly, you sighed, pushing your laptop aside. "You're very intimidating. You're quiet and always alone. Too mysterious. I honestly thought you poisoned my drink."

A smirk grew on his lips, and you didn't hate it. "Who says I haven't?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling yourself mirror his grin. "See, you aren't too bad. You just gotta put yourself out there."

An idea struck you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted out, "Do you want to help me with this speech? Maybe we can work on it together at my place. Maybe I could tell you some more about Panic," you glance behind your shoulder for a brief moment, "I'm not thinking of playing. It's not my thing, but uh, I wouldn't mind helping you from the sidelines."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then his expression softened into a genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Yeah, I'd like that. When do you want to start?"

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[silentmacabre]

okay walk with me here:

season two of panic but! it takes place in SALEM because that’s where dodge ends up and panic seems to follow him.

the stakes are for a cash prize and the deed to a huge old house that is the town’s biggest tourist attraction because it’s said to be wickedly haunted.

some kids play to sell the house for millions, some play to turn it into a museum or hotel, others play to keep the house, a rich kid plays to knock it down for condos and impress his father.

naturally, dodge can’t stay away.

it would be the perfect cross of spooky and cozy I need tv producers on it STAT 🦇