#which I couldn't even get to all the colors!

[wwinterwitch]

feels like fate – joel miller

summary: you've had a crush on joel for quite a while now and you suspect that he might feel the same, hopeful that something happens at the new year eve's party

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

tags: tons of fluff, mutual pining, reader is a kindergarten teacher, age gap (wrote this picturing joel in his 50s and reader in her 30s), maria, drunk!dina, ellie and jesse briefly featured

a like and/or reblog is always appreciated!

all masterlists | pedro pascal characters masterlist

You feel like a complete fool walking into that New Year's Eve party, not really anticipating just how mortifying it would be to walk through those doors after spending a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair and your makeup...just in a silly attempt to impress a guy.

It felt almost unreal to you. Something so incredibly out of your character. Yet here you are, dressed to impress, making your way further inside as some people that knew you started acknowledging your arrival. Thankfully, everyone you make eye contact with offers you a friendly smile as you walk past them, which helps to ease your nerves.

Most of the people that greeted you were parents of the little kids you teach at the local kindergarten, a colorful building next to the new library. Aside from your job as a teacher, you really don’t stand out much. You tend to keep to yourself, with modest amount of friends and an almost inexistent love life. 

A few dates here and there over the years... casual flings that never really led anywhere...nothing remarkable. Eventually you just didn’t care about that aspect of your life, already used to the same couple of guys trying to get your attention here and there. Nothing that was worth getting excited for.

But that's until Tommy Miller's brother showed up.

That man somehow found a way to turn your world upside down from the moment the two of you met. He caught your eye almost immediately, and even though you could be wrong, you're pretty sure you made a good first impression on him too.

Why else did he offer to fix that light in your front porch when he heard you complain about it with a neighbour, just to then show up at your house a few days later asking if it was working properly now? And why would he sometimes stop by at the school when all the kids are going back to their houses to have a chat with you? It's not like he's the most friendly person either, so why would he bother with you, right? Right?

It sounds ridiculous– maybe a bit embarrassing, too. To let your brain convince you he might like you back. That you’re somehow special enough to break all of the barriers Joel has seemed to build up over the years to push people away. That you could steal his heart just like he has stolen yours. Well…there’s really no harm in fantasizing about all of that.

And yes, you sound completely delusional, but it truly feels like fate. You've never felt this way about anyone before, and you still struggle to comprehend how you ended up in this situation. How exactly did he manage to slip into your heart like it was nothing? Like it’s been waiting for him all along? One day you're shaking hands with a complete stranger and before you know it, you're unable to get him out of your mind.

But maybe you are delusional, and that's why you took extra time to get ready tonight in hopes of Joel noticing the efforts you've put in looking like this tonight. Perhaps he won’t notice. Perhaps he won’t even show up.

You keep walking, looking around for someone familiar enough to strike up a conversation. That’s when you notice Maria walking towards you, a grin on her face.

"Looking good," is all she says, her tone oddly suggestive.

You immediately feel self-conscious, trying to avoid eye contact as you clear your throat. "Thanks."

She could tell you started to feel nervous, so she immediately tries to be reassuring. "I really do mean it, by the way. I just couldn't help teasing you."

"Is it too much?" you ask, slightly panicking. “It is, isn’t it?”

"Absolutely not," she replies almost immediately, like you just said the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. "Do you feel like it's too much?"

"Well...I don’t know, but I like how I look."

Maria smiles at that, nodding. "And that’s all that matters. If you like how you look then it's absolutely perfect." She takes a brief pause before leaning closer, smirking. "And I'm sure Joel will like it too."

"W-What?" you asked in shock, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I don't–"

"Oh, please! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You two always look at each other like you could quite literally start drooling at any second...heart eyes and everything. It's almost sickening," she comments in a playful voice, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I, uh..."

Before you can answer properly, you locked eyes with the one person you were expecting to see tonight. He has just entered the bar all by himself, looking a bit lost at first, brows slightly furrowed. Then, he notices you’re there at the party, and a soft smile immediately appears on his lips.

"Yeah, that's the look I'm talking about," Maria muttered, right before placing a hand on your shoulder as a way of saying goodbye. "See you later."

You immediately turn to look at Maria again, watching as she walks away to greet other people. Panic sets in when you realize you’re all by yourself once again. Not knowing what else to do, you look down at your hands, fingers nervously fidgeting, very much aware that Joel is walking towards you. It's ironic how the initial desire to be seen by him has somehow turned into the urge to become invisible. You've always been more confident in your head, definitely not anticipating what it would actually feel like to be here in this scenario and how you'd truly react.

His presence is practically overwhelming at this point, forced to look up at him now that he's standing before you. As you take a look at him, you can't help but notice he's done some effort tonight as well. His hair is brushed back and the nice smell of his cologne almost makes you want to lean closer to him.

"Hi." He's the first one to speak, making you that much nervous when you notice his eyes travel down your form. He clears his throat as soon as he realizes what he's doing, immediately looking up. "You look...you look great."

"Thanks, Joel," you reply, a soft smile on your lips. "I was wondering if you were gonna show up tonight, since these types of events are not really your thing..."

"Oh, yeah, well..." he shrugged, staying quiet for a few seconds while he tried to come up with something else to say. You could tell he was nervous, which made you smile even more as you waited for him to continue. "I guess I'm...trying new things. Step out of my comfort zone."

Before you could say anything, the two of you are interrupted when you hear someone nearby. "Dude, this is embarrassing to watch! I told you he's got no game!"

You turn around just in time to see Ellie and Jesse telling Dina to shut up. She giggles as she wraps an arm around the other girl that stands next to her, and her movements let you know she's had a lot to drink already.

Ellie and Jesse look embarrassed that they got caught eavesdropping, although you could tell Ellie is trying very hard to hold back her laughter. "Sorry," the guy says, looking at Joel with an apologetic look on his face.

That's when Dina realizes what's happening. "Whoopsie," she giggles again, dragging Ellie and Jesse away. "Sorry, Joel. Good luck!"

You can't help but laugh at the situation, watching the three of them walking away, noticing how Jesse's lecturing Dina while she keeps clinging to Ellie and trying not to stumble on her own feet.

When you turn back to look at Joel, you notice a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment on his face, barely able to even make eye contact with you anymore. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," you replied almost immediately, knowing you had to say something else to make the situation between you less awkward. "I believe they’re having a good time."

Joel smiles, watching as the trio walks off. "Dina definitely is," he points out. "Can't say the two babysitters look like they're enjoying themselves that much."

"Yeah, that's probably true. Poor kids."

There's a brief silence, not necessarily an awkward one, but you can tell he wants to say something else. Eventually, he speaks again. "How have you been?"

"Fine. I mean, just the usual. A lot of the kids wanted to have a bonfire soon to celebrate the new year, but I still haven't started planning all that. Maybe I'll ask some of the parents for help."

"Sounds fun," he says with a soft smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"You can be in charge of the hot chocolate."

The little joke makes Joel laugh. A true, genuine laugh that makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Hey, if that'll make me useful, I'm in."

You can't help but keep smiling at him, feeling so incredibly giddy. Is this perhaps what Maria was talking about before? You probably have the exact same look she was describing earlier.

Almost as if you were in some cheesy romantic movie, the cheerful music drastically changed to a much slower tune, noticing a bunch of couples deciding to start dancing together. Joel seems to notice what's going on too, but doesn't dare to acknowledge it, silently watching a couple that walk past the two of you.

Hesitant at first, you eventually decided to test your luck. What’s the worst that could happen? "Would you like to dance?"

The question definitely took him by surprise, quickly turning back to look at you. "What?"

You had no problem repeating yourself, letting out a soft giggle. "I asked if you wanted to dance with me, Joel."

"I don't really–"

"You said you're stepping out of your comfort zone," you remembered, which makes him grin. His usual playful grin that makes you feel like a teenage girl developing her first crush all over again.

"That's really outside of my comfort zone."

Trying to encourage him, you reach out to grab his hand as you start walking towards the other people dancing. To your luck, he doesn't hesitate one bit as he starts walking with you. "I promise it's not as difficult as you probably think it is."

The two of you find a spot in between all the couples dancing and you turn around to look at him. Despite feeling incredibly nervous at this moment, you knew he probably feels even worse right now, agreeing to something you suggested that he probably hasn't done in years. It's only fair that you take the lead for now.

You could feel his body tensing slightly when you place both of his hands on your waist before placing yours around his shoulders. With a reassuring smile, you start softly swaying from side to side, hoping he'd follow your lead.

"See?" you say cheerfully when he immediately starts imitating what you're doing. "It's not difficult."

He nods swiftly, looking down at his feet. "I guess," he mutters, his extreme concentration to every single one of his movements making you laugh. "I don't want to step on your shoes," he says, letting out a nervous chuckle right after.

"You're not gonna step on my shoes," you reassured him, and that's when he finally looks back up into your eyes. "You're a natural."

He shrugs, looking slightly more comfortable now. "Or maybe I just have a really good teacher."

The comment makes you playfully roll your eyes. "And to think Dina had the audacity to say you have no game."

Joel laughs at that, shaking his head at the memory of that little incident that took place a few minutes ago. Rather than replying right away, you feel his hands move to the small of your back, gently pulling you closer to him. "So you disagree with her?"

"Maybe. I'm still not sure."

You can see something shifting in his demeanor, looking a lot more confident than ever before. He pulls you close until you're resting your chin on his shoulder, heartbeat rising when you feel his beard tickling your neck and his big, strong hands still firmly placed on your back.

"How about now?" you hear him whisper. In that moment, your knees could've easily given in and make you lose balance. He's really getting comfortable now.

You were unable to speak at first, simply hugging him tighter. A few people around you couldn't help but stare, probably intrigued by you and Joel's evident display of affection. Of course the possibility of a new couple forming in town would peak their interest, especially one so...unpredictable.

Joel's not necessarily a very approachable person, and he definitely looks quite intimidating. You, on the other hand, are known as the sweet kindergarten teacher all the little kids talk about with so much affection. It really is an unexpected pair.

Snapping out of it, you remember what Joel just asked you. "Now...I might disagree with her."

He chuckles against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Good," he says, right before moving back enough to lock eyes with you again.

You both dance together in silence, simply looking back into each other's eyes as you enjoy the proximity and undeniable chemisty. Like you have said in the past, it feels like fate. Somehow, in this doomed world, you were meant to find each other.

"You look so beautiful," he says out of nowhere, smiling down at you. "Early when I got here...I wanted to say you look beautiful."

"Great's also a nice compliment." He's still looking back at your first interactions tonight, feeling critical about his approach then. You didn't want him to feel like he did something wrong, or that he could've done things differently.

Joel nodded. "But that's not what I wanted to say," he insisted. "I'm sorry I was weird earlier. This whole thing is...it's just been a very long time since I've felt this way."

"And how exactly do you feel?"

He notices your little smirk, which inevitably makes him smile back at you, immediately noticing your playful tone. A few seconds later the smile on his face disappears, replaced by a serious expression. "Like I've finally found someone that makes me want to give love a second chance," he says, sounding incredibly sincere.

At first, you don't really know what to say, your heart instantly melting at his words. All you can do is smile, trying not to get visibly emotional, because this is truly fate. This all feels like it was meant to be. As crazy as it might sound, you can easily see yourself falling in love with Joel, spending as much time as this godforsaken world grants you next to him.

Last thing you wanted was to leave him hanging after what he said, quickly snapping out of your thoughts once again. "I think I'd like to give this a chance too."

You could see Joel's entire face light up after what you just said, like he has been waiting for you to say something along those lines. He presses you closer to him, right before leaning down for a kiss.

Sharing a kiss with Joel is exactly what you expected and just so much more at the same time. It almost feels like fireworks are exploding all around you, no one but the two of you existing at that moment. It's so sweet and gentle, yet so incredibly passionate. Is it possible to feel this much just with a kiss? Perhaps this is exactly what it feels like to connect with your soulmate.

As soon as you pull away, you could feel a lot more people staring at the two of you, but all you could really focus on is Joel. There's absolutely nothing else that matters more right now.

"I bet Dina doesn't think you've got no game now," you joke.

Joel quickly scans the room searching for the girl, smiling softly at something before looking down at you again. "I believe she's distracted right now."

Intrigued, you turn around to look in the direction Joel was just seconds ago, noticing Dina and Ellie dancing together. "I didn't know they were a thing."

"Me neither," Joel replied. "I mean, I knew there was something going on with Ellie...poor kid's awful at hiding her feelings. I wasn't sure if Dina liked her back, though."

"Well, it looks to me like she really likes her back."

Joel shrugs playfully. "Us Miller's, you know? We're kinda irresistible."

"Please, don't you ever say anything like that again," you laugh, immediately shaking your head. "It gave me actual chills."

He laughs back. "Sorry," he whispers, leaning in for a quick kiss as he stops dancing. "But you gotta admit it's true."

"Stop it," you warn him playfully.

"Fine." He stops himself for a few seconds, uncertain, before speaking his mind. "Uh, so I was thinking...it's movie night at the old theater tomorrow, so maybe we could go together."

"You'll get me popcorn?"

Joel looks offended by your question. "Of course."

"It's a date then," you reply. This time it's your turn to lean in for a kiss. It's like you could spend your entire life kissing this man. You're addicted already.

He nods in agreement, taking your hand to guide you out of the dance floor. You really didn't care where he was intending to go, you were just happy to get the chance to spend the rest of the party by his side.

[cyanide-siren]

pfft, we're not a couple

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You, Dean and Sam attend a Supernatural convention by Becky's invitation and see people dressed up as characters from your life. One couple, approaching you, is dressed up as you and Dean. Of course, you're just friends - right?

☆☆

"What the hell's this place?" you mumbled, looking around the people dressed to look like demons, vampires, werewolves and other monsters. But along with supernatural creatures, some of them were dressed in the same kind of clothes like you and the Winchesters did.

It was a convention for Chuck's books. The books about your life hunting demons. This can't be fucking real.

"Sooo, do you like it?" Becky asked, appearing next to you out of nowhere. God, how much did that girl piss you off with that wide lipstick smile of hers and pitched voice.

"Yeah, i absolutely fucking love it," you replied sarcastically, voice threatening and angry which Becky took a notice of and turned from excited to awkward. You didn't even care to look at her way.

Chuck walked towards the four of you, taking cautious and nervous steps. He had wanted to keep this a secret from you but of course Becky had texted the Winchesters from Chuck's phone.

"Listen, guys –" Chuck started but couldn't get very far with his words.

"No, you listen to us, you piece of shit," Dean growled, towering over Chuck right in front of him. "It's bad enough to write books about our lives without permission, but holding some kind of event to dozens of people about it? That's even worse."

"I-i didn't mean this to happen, but..." Chuck stuttered, afraid of getting a fist on his face if he said one more wrong word.

"Save it, Chuck," Sam spat and rolled his eyes.

Chuck was going to say something more in his defense until a man arrived next to him and started talking about the process of publishing new books to the series and pulling Chuck away from you.

Un-fucking-believable.

Soon, a random man and woman, holding hands, approached the three of you but looking especially between you and Dean. Their eyes widened both in surprise and joy.

"Oh, honey! They decided to cosplay them too!" the woman exclaimed with wide eyes and even wider smile.

"Wow, you look just like them," the man gasped, looking at the two of you from head to toe.

The woman was wearing almost exactly the same outfit as you, which gave you the creeps. She was wearing a wig too with your hair color, pulled up in a ponytail like your hair.

"Can we take a picture together, please?" the woman asked, already pulling her camera from her purse. All you wanted to do was to yank her fake ponytail and slam her on the wall, but you didn't want to cause a scene.

"You know, Dean and Y/N is one of my favorite fictional couples," the woman eagerly told you. "They are so meant to be."

Your eyes grew wider and cheeks turned slightly pink, panic rising inside your chest.

"Oh, no no, we're not, i mean, they're not," you stuttered, not getting the words properly out of your mouth.

"Yeah, they're just friends," Dean finished your sentence, eyes as wide as yours.

"Are you kidding me?" the man exclaimed. "The chemistry, both romantic and sexual, between them is insane! There's thousands of fanfictions of them too written online."

"Fanfictions?" Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's like, one of the most popular pairings in the fandom!" the woman said. She quickly looked around her to see if anyone was listening to your conversation and then turned her voice a little lower, "I'm writing a fic series about them together too currently, i've been working on it for months."

"Uh-huh," you mumbled, not knowing what the hell to say to that. Not knowing what the fuck those words even meant.

"Do you want to hear what it's about? I can send you a link," she suggested, looking excited for sharing her passion with someone else. "I'll be posting the next chapter tomorrow and..."

"No thanks," you declined, just looking at her like she had completely lost her mind.

"Anyway, how about the picture?" the man asked and already gave the camera to Sam. "You can take it, right?"

Sam just looked at the camera in his hand with a baffled and confused expression on his face, but as he turned his gaze on you and Dean, an amused smile spread on his face. Both you and Dean looked uncomfortable and horrified about the situation.

The woman pulled you next to her by your elbow and the man pulled Dean to the picture as well, putting an arm around his shoulder. You and Dean exchanged glances with each other, wondering if you should punch both of them with a fist on their faces or just give in and get it over with.

This better not be posted anywhere on the internet.

The expressions on both you and Dean's face were almost identical: a mix of confused, dumbfounded, terrified and slightly embarrassed. Sam only smirked, finding you and Dean's sudden awkwardness around each other amusing.

"Smile," Sam smirked as he was getting the four of you to fit the camera's screen. The two strangers pushed you and Dean harder against each other's shoulder.

No, you would definitely not be smiling, unlike these two weirdos.

When the picture had been taken, Sam gave the camera back to the couple who were more than happy how good the picture had turned out to be.

"Thank you so much! Have a good day!" the woman said and pulled you into a tight hug. You hadn't expected a damn hug so you just stood there, being suffocated.

"I think i'll go get a drink," you decided once the couple was gone, wanting to step away from Dean for a second. You also were in need of something strong to get through with whatever the hell was going on here. Just barely 10 minutes in and you were already losing your mind.

Dean was left alone with Sam, both of them looking after you for a moment. Dean turned to look at Sam who was holding his laugh.

"We don't look like a couple," Dean scoffed, but when Sam was silent, Dean's face fell and he looked a little more serious. "Wait, do we?"

"Yes, Dean, you do look like a couple," Sam said. "Been waiting for you to realize it yourself."

"That's stupid, we just flirt occasionally but it doesn't mean anything," Dean said and rolled his eyes, trying to brush it off. "We're just friends."

"Mhm, whatever you say," Sam muttered, letting himself smile when his brother didn't see.

Just a few metres away from Dean and Sam, one guy with yellow contact lenses in his eyes approached a fake Dean, saying with a grin, "What's with the face? Did i kill your mommy?"

Dean gritted his teeth, knowing he'd break that man's nose and crack his teeth if he had said that to Dean's face. To the actual Dean.

"Yep, definitely need a drink," Dean muttered, growing even angrier than he already was after entering into this building.

After Dean had swallowed almost a full glass of whiskey down his throat, he saw a man, assumingly dressed as Dean as well, talking with you in the distance. You laughed at something he said to you, hiding your smile behind your hand. Your pretty smile that made Dean's chest and stomach feel funny whenever Dean saw your smile or heard you laugh.

What was so funny? Seeing another man make you laugh twisted something in Dean's chest.

"Dean, just tell her already," Sam said behind him, noticing Dean's tight grip on the glass, knuckles turning white.

"Tell her what?"

"That you like her," Sam specified.

"She's a friend, that's it," Dean insisted, tired of stating the obvious to his brother.

"Yeah? Well, i suppose it's fine then that she's probably going home tonight with a different man when this is over," Sam said.

Dean went into a slight panic after hearing those words.

"Home? What? With who?" Dean asked, looking back at you talking with the stranger. "What, that guy?"

"See, you like her."

"Well, she can do as she pleases," Dean said, shrugging his shoulders like he didn't care.

"When are you going to stop being so damn stubborn?" Sam asked, growing annoyed of his brother not admitting to his feelings. Sam wanted Dean to be happy, to let someone love him, but Dean's constant resistance was making him lose his mind.

"I'm not stubborn."

"Mhm."

Dean noticed another man trying to flirt with you. At least that was what it looked like. You didn't look exactly convinced or impressed by the fake Dean's words, whatever he was saying to you, but it didn't mean that Dean wouldn't get a sting in his heart for having to look at that.

"That's not her type, she's not going anywhere with him," Dean said.

"And you know what her type is?" Sam asked. He highly doubted that you talked about your taste in men with Dean. Or that he'd be willing to listen to your dating life.

"Well, i know it's not that guy," Dean insisted.

You were pretty, anyone with eyes could see that. You were funny too, your sense of humor matching Dean's perfectly. You were sweet and caring. Damn it, Dean could spend hours on explaining all the good things about you that made people like you.

Who wouldn't be attracted to you?

You were just a friend. His best friend. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with his best friend. That was forbidden, right? Don't fall in love with your best friend. So, of course he hadn't done that.

But every time you smiled at him, laughed at one of his jokes, he felt his heart skip a beat and butterflies swarm in his stomach.

Was that love? No. You were a friend, that's all.

☆☆

You were pinned against the wooden floor, the ghost a small child holding a large kitchen knife against your forehead, ready to peel half of your scalp off. How was this kid so strong? It was like trying to push a grown man away from you with no result.

Then, the child burst into flames and ash until was completely gone. Those sons of bitches really managed to burn the bones?

Dean rushed to you, grabbing your hand to pull you up. Even he had been pinned against the floor by another child, not able to fight back either.

"Are you okay?" he asked in panic, breathing heavily. He cupped your face with his warm hands to examine your face closer, looking at the wound on your forehead, which was only a small scratch and didn't bleed more than couple of drops. A simple band-aid would be enough.

"I'm fine," you assured him and had a teasing smile on your face. "But it's kind of cute you're worried about me."

Dean just rolled his eyes and wasn't in the mood of joking around, the tone of his voice complete opposite from yours. "Of course i'm worried about you, i always am."

You swallowed, becoming more serious too and were suddenly much more aware of the small gap between the two of you. You were afraid that he was actually going to kiss you, but you were interrupted by Sam running into the room, out of breath.

"Oh, thank god, you're okay, I –" Sam sighed, relieved, but then noticed how close you and Dean were standing. Dean quickly let go of you and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, we're just fine," Dean responded. "Let's go."

But before Dean would manage to walk out of the room, Sam quickly stepped outside and closed the door, trapping you and Dean inside alone.

"Sam? Open the door," Dean commanded, not able to get the door open as Sam was blocking it.

"Not until you talk things through between each other," Sam shouted through the door, loud enough for you to hear him too.

"Talk what through?" Dean asked, annoyed at his brother.

"You know what," Sam said, frustrated of you and Dean being both so stubborn.

Now that there was nobody else around you, the atmosphere was more awkward than it normally was and both of you waited that the other would break the silence.

"So, that was fun i guess," you said after trying to think what to say what felt like forever, but couldn't come up with anything useful.

"Yeah, super," Dean mumbled, looking down at his hands.

Truthfully, you did like Dean, more than just as a friend, but you had crossed out the option of having a romantic relationship with him a long time ago, knowing that he didn't do long-term relationships and you didn't do short flings. Especially with your best friend. What if you told him about your feelings and he didn't feel the same? You'd make things between the two of you way too awkward.

"So... i saw you chatting with some guy earlier," Dean said.

"Yeah? What about it?" you asked, furrowing your brows.

"Just, i don't know, looked like you had a good time," Dean stated, looking around the room to avoid eye contact with you. Immediately after he had said those words outloud, he regretted bringing it up.

"Well, i guess he was kind of funny," you said and shrugged, narrowing your eyes and then examining his behavior. You started slowly walking towards him, a smile on your lips. "Wait, does it bother you that another man made me laugh, hm?"

"No," Dean scoffed.

"Dean?" you said, stretching his name longer and raising your eyebrows. "Sounds a little like you might be jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Dean denied, finally looking into your eyes. You were suddenly incredibly close to him, just a small gap between the two of you. Dean swallowed, his heart beating faster as your gaze pierced all the way through his soul. God, you had pretty eyes. "I'm not."

"Mhm," you hummed, not convinced at all. "So, you're fine if i go talk to him instead of you?" You put your hands on his shoulders, gently grabbing the collar of his shirt and twiddling it in your hands. "You can be honest. You wouldn't mind, hm?"

"Of course i'd mind, Y/N," he answered, voice louder than you expected, making you flinch a little. However, it didn't take you more than a few seconds for you to start to giggle.

"Someone's jealooous," you teased, Dean's face not amused at all. "Just admit it that you want me aaaall to yourself."

"And what if i do, hm?" Dean asked. "Want you all to myself."

Now it was your turn to fall quiet for a second, smile fading from your face.

Right then, Dean grabbed your face and pulled you closer, pressing your lips against his. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it wasn't just a gentle peck. It was hard, needy and like he was afraid you'd float away from him. When he looked into your eyes, noses almost touching each other, he read the expression on your face, shocked and taken aback, like you hadn't liked the kiss. That he had finally fucked up everything between the two of you.

Dean was just about to step back when you put your hand on the back of his head, slamming your lips against his again and taking him into a proper kiss. Dean almost instantly rested his hands on your hips, pulling your body against him. When you opened your mouth slightly, he had the chance to push his tongue inside your mouth.

Your body was going crazy, butterflies swarming inside your stomach, chest feeling warm and heartbeat rising faster. His touch was everything you had missed and needed. Having him touch you and hold you was like puzzle pieces fitting together that had been missing their other half for their entire life.

At some point you had to pull away to catch your breath and locked eyes with each other.

"Is it too much asked for if i'd be the only guy to be able to do that to you?" Dean murmured.

"You want to do that again, hm?" you asked, biting your lip to hide your smile.

"Hell yeah i do," Dean chuckled and was already about to pull you into another kiss, when, Sam dared to open the door slightly to peek inside.

"Chuck is on his way over here," Sam informed. "Might want to continue that elsewhere so he doesn't add that to his next book."

You immediately let go of Dean and started walking towards the door.

"Absolutely nothing happened here," you stated, but Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you against him before you managed to step out of the room, back on his chest.

"Yeah? Well something might happen in the motel later, hm?" Dean murmured into your ear, quiet enough that Sam wouldn't hear you.

But he did, in fact, hear Dean's words.

"And i will book a different room for myself," Sam said, shaking his head but also happy that he you had finally admitted your feelings with Dean.

☆☆

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dan had many feelings. Sure most of them were negative and hate was a very big one of his many emotions.

But another one was pure and simple ecstatic euphoria.

Because...he was himself again. Gone was a big and bulky form, back was his...normal self. He had forgotten what it had felt like to look in the mirror and see himself, not the twerp or the clone, not some demented memory screaming in horror at what he had done.

No. It was his face, thr soft curves that he got from his mother, the dark hair and blue eyes from his father, the eyebrows that matched Jazz's, not a single lick of Vlad was in him, not the scars from his global dominance, no deformed fangs that bit into his flesh, no flaming hair that he couldn't shape.

It was just Him.

And he couldn't help but feel great about that.

---

Danny watched as Dante (they all couldn't be named Danny) stare at himself in the mirror. He himself didn't have the personal need to preen as much as the teen was doing, so perhaps it was just the quirk of his other self.

Stopping behind him, Danny couldn't help but smile a bit, the teen looked happy, sure he wasn't smiling but Danny knew his teenage face well enough to know that Dante was majorly pleased.

Blue met blue through the mirror, and Danny nodded to the teen, Dante had been given an old clone body after a long rehabilitation, so it was set in Danny's teenage years, even though the man had aged a decade.

Smirking as he ruffled Dantes hair (which earned him a snap of teeth and a jab to the kidneys) Danny nodded to the door, "Come on, your going to be late for school, it's your first day so you can't miss it."

Dante gave a glare and a huff, but the glare softened as he looked at himself in the mirror, and Danny was struck at just how young the teen looked at the moment.

Apprehension and tension was clear on the boys face, but behind that was worry, panic even Danny knew the face well, having had it many times before.

"Do I really have to fucking go? Doesn't being a war criminal exclude me from such things?" Dante snarked, turning to actually properly look at Danny, who could only chuckle.

"We both know you actually want to, cant be an astronaut without a PhD and cant get that withour a high-school diploma...You quit before graduating...last time." Danny said with a stiffness.

The teens eyes hardened "Well excuse fucking me, seeing everyone I loved and cared about die in an explosion made me not really feel up to going to god damn fucking school."

Shoving past Danny, Dante stormed past him, a trail of steam and the sent of smoke following him out of the house and onto the streets of the new city.

Some ecto filled, low life having, bat infested city...called Gotham.

---

Damian tugged at his tie, fixing it into place after touching up his hair once more, frowning as he fiddled with it, making a mental note to trim it soon.

Grabbing an sponge, the teen dabbed it into a small tub of tan makeup, before softly applying it to his face, his touch light as he goes over the back eye he was trying to hide.

Yes the Robin mask did offer some protection, but not nearly enough to fully stop a Venom junkie that just got a new dose.

And while he was thankful to get the new lead on Banes operation selling Venom, a deep nagging part of him hated that his face had payed the price for it.

Damian hated that he cared about his appearance, and hated that he associated it with his mother.

Learning how to do disguise make up had been one of the only times during his training he had spent extended periods of time with his mother, skills that he was still using to this day.

Putting down the sponge, Damian got a fresh one and dabbed it onto his face, blending the colors until the purples and blues of the black eye disappeared completely.

"Master Damian, the car is pulled up to the front, though i shall be taking you Master Richard has offered to pick you up. I must tend to your idiotic father, as he seems to be trying to stand again on both his broken legs. Perhaps this time I shall leave him in a straight jacket before hiding the keys, that should keep him down for longer..." the old butler muttered to himself at the end, but Damian could only sigh as he stepped away from the mirror.

"Just invite Miss Kyle or Eamm Clark to keep him down." Damian said, toeing on his shoes as he steps out from his room, taking the offered backpack from Alfred as he walks by him.

"Ahh...that might solve the issue of him staying in his room...but both of them have a possibility of causing more harm to him.." the elder butler said, walking close behind his youngest charge as he made his way to the front of the house.

Damian pulled a face, "Disgusting Pennyworth, please do not discuss my fathers...promiscuous relationships with those two, I do not want to dig out my ear drums just to burn them but I shall if you continue."

The old man gave a not-smirk, the kind thst was more frown but held a jolly feeling. "Oh of course Master Damian..."

Rolling his eyes, the teen got to the front steps, even half way through them in blissful silence before Alfred spoke once more. "Ah. I was set it inform you yesterday day but as you had an injury I had forgotten, you will be receiving a new classmate today, your father had done a screening of course, and they stood out because of their parents, who happen to be inventors that like making things go...to steal a phrase from Master Jason, Boom."

Damian just nodded, "I shall research them. I will know everything about them by the time I will come home."

"And that is all I can ask you Master Damian" Alfred said, opening the car door, "I do hope thst the day is not wasted, it is not every day that one starts highschool."

[transboyswitchytales]

'Get Lost in My Eyes'

“I used to think I was afraid of being lost, but then I realized I was afraid of who might find me.” ― Nenia Campbell, Raise the Blood

Request:

'Hi. I have a request

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Literally after recover her body, Agatha goes for a walk because she misses… well, her body so she takes advantage of the fact that Billy goes out with her boyfriend to take a walk around Eastview.

On her way out, Agatha's gaze connects with that of Reader who was passing by. Normally, Agatha didn't care but if Agatha didn't believe in love at first sight, she now believes it because after looking at you she couldn't look away and had to interact with Reader. Agatha's body moved only in the direction of Reader

Or

Agatha who has had no luck in love, only toxicity, falls in love at first sight for the first time in her long life as a witch

Thank you so much'

Soulmate Au / Love at First Sight Au / Fluff and Angst / Bit of gore / Witch power draining / Running from your past / Nicky mourning

Part 1

My Masterlist

Agatha was having a weird time with… walking. 

She’d just gotten a handle on floating, being a ghost that is. 

Being in a body after being a ghost was a strange feeling, to say the least. 

Agatha was standing in Eastview at a park. Laughter from children playing and people having a gay old time with their stupid mortal lives. It was all so….normal?

Agatha had walked here after Billy had told her he was going on a date. The two of them really needed some space and boundaries. Lots of boundaries needed to happen. 

 Agatha was ashamed to say she wasn’t sure what to do with herself for the first time in centuries.

There was no power to fight for, she had power again. No son to try and steal time for, kill for. No Rio to fear, fuck, of fight. The three f’s that went with her ex.

 Which was best, while she’s always loved Rio. She could never be with Rio ever again. 

So Rio stood in a park. Feeling more lost than ever before. 

 It was the middle of spring, a rather hot day for the time of year. 

The ancient witch grew irritated as a yellow toy flew through the air.

 There was some dumb ass twink throwing a frisby for an ugly little dog.

Agatha was wearing her boots. Which was nice since they were familiar, old runes carved in the seams. Her clothes were the same as well… and yet her body just felt different. Everything felt different.  

Agatha had not told Billy about her future plans. Because she wasn’t sure what they really were yet. Yet.

But only three days being back in one’s body was overwhelming; a purpose would come to her, right?

Agatha had taken a turn on a dirt path to walk. Not wanting to be around people. Yuck even the word was gross.  

So when she felt magic being cast, her body initially went into a state of panic. Call it PTSD from the road or perhaps the lingering sting of the hex, Scarlet Witch was truly an experience. 

But when Agatha saw it was…purple? Like her purple? That was truly the strange part. Agatha walked off the path following the buzz of magic until she found a gorgeous river and a rather stunning…witch.

Not just any witch, an extremely powerful, breathtaking witch. Agatha watched the way your hair framed your face the sunlight hitting it and all the colors that reflected on your strands, the cute little scar you had. 

Your eyes were closed as you were casting a spell. It was complicated Agatha knew it was, she couldn’t explain why she did. But you were working hard.

But devine goddess, Agatha wanted you to open your eyes to see the color of your irises. She longed to know more about you. 

But that scared her more than words could say. 

For fuck sake, she needed you to keep your eyes closed. This moment lasts longer. You were oblivious to Agatha Harkness witch killer, just ten feet away. Agatha, not for the first time, wished her name didn’t hold so much….blood?

But Agatha’s heart beat sped up. She felt more in her body than she’d been since returning to her solid form.

The magic smelled of lilies of the valley, burnt firewood, and pine. And something so distinctly Nicky that it made Agatha confused. 

Agatha held her breath as your hair fell into your face, tickling your nose. Oh, to be close to you. Agatha could think of nothing more decadent than to move the strand with her fingers behind your ear. 

You sat crisscrossed, barefoot, rings on your fingers as they worked in the air, weaving the magic. 

There was a little RV behind her, it was new in the 80’s maybe. Now it was retro and well-loved. Stickers on the windows. Agatha made out prayer flags in the back window and a tapestry inside that had a huge lavender pentacle. The soft noise of a windchime sounded in the air, it twinkled over the rushing water hitting the rocks.   

Agatha’s eyes fell back to you, like a magnet. An invisible string, the pull is unreliable. Yet it didn’t hurt. Agatha had been so used to hurting Rio and her mother. Loving Nicky as he grew sick. 

Her bones felt like they wanted to move closer, but she kept her distance, afraid to break your concentration. Agatha didn’t know how you’d take a person staring so deeply. 

But fate stepped in, as she often did.

Agatha would swear years later that Nicky was behind it all, that he’d pushed you two together. 

But the creature that did the work today, she cursed in this moment, was a certain rabbit, who jumped out of the RV and hopped towards Agatha.

Agatha’s familiar, falling onto the rocks to pick the rabbit up. She’d been worried when Billy couldn’t find him. Her heart ached for the fuzzy guy. 

“Senior Scratchy?” A gorgeous voice asked. 

Agatha eyes snapped up after scooping up her familiar to see you walking closer. Agatha held her breath. Oh, Lilith’s breath, your eyes were her new favorite color. 

“He doesn’t usually like people.” You say, and Agatha is too stunned to speak. 

Agatha had never heard a smoother, sweeter voice. She decided then and there that she’d listen to you read the warnings on drinking bleach as long as she could hear you speak.

You stared at Agatha, and she didn’t make a noise, not even of acknowledgement. Agatha was thankful you spoke again so it wasn’t too awkward. She was trying to figure out what in the world you said when you met an angel?

“You two must be kindred spirits.” You smile at Agatha, who is not sure where her own voice has gone. Has never experienced a smile like that. Her knees go momentarily weak. 

“Are you from around here?” You continue the one-sided conversation, and Agatha shakes her head, and you look more confused. Stepping closer, Agatha doesn’t release the rabbit, and you don’t break them up. 

Agatha can smell you now, your perfume or is it just you? She tries not to sniff you like an animal. 

Your head falls to the side and Agatha is trying her best to breathe. But how can you be cute and sexy and powerful and and and what the hell? Agatha tries so hard to snap to attention. 

“Are you..I hope this doesn’t offend you. Are you ok? I mean, you look a little… lost?” You tell Agatha, who has never heard truer words. 

Though now that she looks at you, she’s not sure she is lost anymore.

“You don’t talk much huh? Let’s start here,” you held out your hand, and the witches blue eyes dropped down to study it. She recognized the rings, one had tigers eye, another celtic runes, a few moons, but one of them was an old Salem sign. One Agatha hadn’t seen in lifetime. 

Licking her lips, she held the bunny in one arm and couldn’t help herself, she wanted to touch your skin. Just once, just to say she’d touched something heavenly. 

Your hands met, and both of you looked down at the electric feeling. Both experiencing hair raising on your arms. Agatha was quick to retract her hand. 

“Agnes.” She lied. You blinked once, twice, and then the bunny made a little noise. And Harkness swore then and there she’d never give her familiar another treat as long as he lived. 

You looked down and listened to Agatha’s familiar. Smiling softly at the creature. 

“What is that senior scratchy? Huh…Um this boy says your name is..Agatha?” You correct her. And the older witch gulps. But you don’t take offense to her lie. 

“People here called me Agnes.” Agatha tries at an attempt to clarify. 

The moment stays between the two of you. 

Agatha doesn’t know what to do. She just knows that she can’t leave the spot that. She just wants to be in whatever room you are in for as long as she can.  

Agatha is relieved when you keep talking to her.

“Well, I personally think Agatha suits you much better. There was a famous witch who was called that. Seriously, misunderstood, amazing witch…Well, anyway, um, I like Agatha, but I’ll call you whatever you want. Do you have a preference?” You ask her so sweetly that the witch in her new body is floored. 

“Agatha, I prefer Agatha actually.” She says, and you grin at her again. And Agatha doesn’t know why or how you are looking at her like that, but she’ll do whatever she can to see you do it again. 

“Well, Agatha Senior Scratchy is an amazing judge of character. So a friend of his is a friend of mine. I don’t know if you have plans..but I was about to make dinner. And if you are lost, which something tells me you might be. Do you wanna, I don’t know have dinner with me?”

Agatha took a breath, and she tried to count to five before immediately saying yes and seeming entirely too eager. But you panicked by four and Agatha didn’t like that. 

“You don’t have to-”

“No, no I would like that.” Agatha said, and you smiled at her relieved. Agatha smiled back and she wasn’t sure the last time she gave someone a genuine grin…but it made her face hurt. 

You cooked for Agatha that night. And the conversation flowed so easily. Easier than Agatha had ever experienced. It was strange how at ease you put her, and yet so in her body she felt with you. 

Agatha’s magic sparkled under her skin, itching to play with yours. Agatha asked questions about your life. Senior Scratchy nibbled on lettuce as the two of you ate and laughed at each other's stories. 

Watching the sunset together, not knowing it would be the first of many sunsets together. That was the funny thing about fate. 

Agatha put her hands over the small campfire you’d built. The spring nights were chilly, and the two witches didn’t seem to mind. 

The rabbit jumped onto Agatha’s lap, and you were looking up at the night sky. A small lull in the conversation that hadn’t happened yet. 

A comfortable silence nonetheless, something that only comes with two souls knowing each other. 

Agatha stared at you as you gazed into the sky. 

Both of you are holding mugs of tea that you’d made earlier. Agatha had been un-surprised when it had been her favorite flavor. It seemed she was in an alternate dimension, perhaps she hadn’t gotten her body back. Maybe this was a cruel trick of fate. Rio must have made a deal with someone to torment her. 

But as she sipped the tea and heard the crickets in the night, she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t all really happening. 

“Agatha?” You broke her thoughts now, but didn’t look at her, you were making love to the moon with your eyes.  

“Yes?”

Agatha had never seen anyone pay tribute to the moon the way you were in this moment. It was like you were getting strength from her. And she quickly realized why. 

“I know you don’t want to tell me everything, you are sorta keeping a lot to yourself… I mean you are telling me things about you…but not the stuff you are afraid to… I mean, I guess, I know you're a witch, of course. I know you aren’t as old as you look. I don’t need to know it all right now. That’s really ok. I like talking to you a lot. I feel safe with you, and that hasn’t happened in a long time. I think you are funny and witty. Even though you think you are being sarcastic and perhaps a realist. I think it’s all a facade, and you are a big mush. Senior Scratchy doesn’t lie. All of that is..well. I guess I wanted to know, do you want to get lost with me..for a while?” You offered, and at the end, you looked at Agatha. 

The wind moved her dark hair lightly. Like it was pushing her towards you. Urging her to jump two feet in love.

“You don’t even know me,” Agatha answered like it was silly of you. 

“You are a covenless witch. I’m not asking to be your coven. I don’t need a teacher or even a protector. It’s not why I’m asking.” You say, and Agatha feels like a thing too good to be true, always is. 

“So what do you want?”

“Nothing from you.” You say simply, and Agatha isn’t sure she’s ever heard anything so romantic in her whole life. 

“You don’t want anything.” She repeats. 

“No, I’m not asking for your life story. Or trying to win something or steal something. I think I would just like your company. But if that isn’t a fair trade for my own, I understand that, too.” The last part is said sadly. 

Agatha gazes at you and then turns to look at your RV. 

“Will you be leaving soon?” She is angry at how needy she sounds. But you look up at the moon. 

“Not until she tells me to. But my invitation isn’t while I’m in the area. I’m asking if you want to come with me.” You tell the witch seriously. 

“What if I tell you something about myself..and you change your mind?” Agatha tries. 

“What if you change your mind?” You counter now and Agatha bristles, like that was ridiculous. 

“It isn’t a contract. If you get bored of my stories, or are tired of how I make tea. Or more realistically, the vagabond living thing is not your thing…Well then, we’ll talk then. But for now, do you want to get lost for a while?” You offer again, and Agatha looks conflicted.

“You don’t have to answer now, but I do ask you to answer for yourself, not for what you think I want to hear. I suppose whatever we do in this long life, we get a lot of chances. And we also get a lot of firsts. So perhaps this will be the first time you make a decision for just you.” You say, and then look back at the moon. 

Agatha couldn’t believe it. 

That had been two years ago. 

And now she was standing in a new state once again. You were walking over to Agatha, and when you met up with her, you kissed her. Agatha loved this, she loved you. But she hadn’t told you yet. 

It was an accident, a freak accident, that she was constantly amazed by you. 

You’d just hiked to the nearest town to drop off a letter Agatha had written for Billy. Now you were back, and Agatha was relieved. She’d always been nervous when the two of you parted. 

So now that you were back, she could breathe again. Sorta like how she’d learned how to breathe again the second she saw you in the middle of a creek in spring. 

“Aggie?”

“Hmm, baby?” Agatha realized she’d been zoning out again, and you were bringing her back softly into the embrace. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You gently offered, and Agatha loved that you never pushed her about her demons. You supported her through the nightmares, held her hand on Nicky's birthday when Agatha demanded on picking wildflowers. And never got mad at Agatha when she got snarky. It was like you knew it was an act. That Agatha was scared and trying to start a fight. 

You two were yin and yang. 

You didn’t rise to take the bait. Only gave Aggie space and time to figure out what she needed.

Agatha was standing in the forest deep in thought, and your arms stayed around her waist.

Agatha played with the ends of your hair and decided what to say.

“You’ve never asked me my last name.” She decides. 

“No, I didn’t.” You agree and leave it at that. Agatha understands without asking, you don’t need to know. You aren’t worried about what she’d done, only if she chose to be with you today. 

Today was a powerful thing. 

You both traveled everywhere in that stupid RV. 

Until it broke down in the south, and you were flustered. More flustered than Agatha had seen you in a while. Smoke pillowing out of the hood. As you coughed away.

“My love, it’s all gonna be ok. We’ll just-” Agatha tried to soothe you, and you didn’t let her. 

“It’s the engine block, we are so fucked. Oh fuck oh fuck-”

“Baby-” Agatha tried putting her hands on your arms, but you were shaking and she was getting worried. She looked at you, concerned, and you didn’t need to speak, a new thing between the two of you. 

“Aggie, this isn’t a good place to break down. I was..I was hunted here a long time ago. And I don’t want-fuck.” You tried, and Agatha pulled your body into hers and hugged you tight. 

“I’m not leaving you here, sweetheart. We can walk to the nearest town and get a tow. Or steal a new RV. Whatever we do, no one is going to hurt you. You trust me?” Aggie pulled back so that her eyes bore into yours, and you nodded.

It was painfully hot as you both walked in the sun. Agatha complained in indecent ways to try and make you laugh. She even let you hold Senior Scratchy so that you didn’t get too anxious. 

When you found a diner, you both walked like you’d walked the entire Sahara. Barging in the locals eyed you strangely. 

“No pets.” The waitress who reeked of BO told you. 

“Aggie..” You whispered, but she took her familiar out of your hands. Whispering to the bunny to stay close but out of sight. Opening the door, she let the rabbit run off. 

“It’ll be fine, Angel. We’ll get some food, and then find a mechanic.” Agatha told you, but the hair on the back of her neck was standing up. This was weird, she agreed. 

The waitress pointed to the far booth, and Agatha pushed your lower back and sat you with your back to the door. And she sat opposite so that neither of you had a blind spot. 

“I’m not feeling good about this.” You leaned across the sticky table to say to her. 

It didn’t take long for trouble to find your booth, it seemed. Two hags walked up to your table and stopped. 

“Can we help you?” You ask and Agatha finds it interesting how even in a horrible place like this you can still come across friendly if not uneasy. But they don’t respond in any kindness. 

“You with her.” The hag on the left asks you. 

“Yes, I am.” You answer, and Agatha tries not to feel pride at how quick you are. Neither of you had ever put a label on it.

 But it was love.   

“Fucking witch killer. Harkness, you ain’t got no business in these parts.” The hag on the right says, and Agatha’s body grows tense. She doesn’t look at the old witches, she turns to look at you. Agatha grows nauseous, this was the end of her great love story, it seemed. In a hillbillly diner in the middle of nowhere. She was about to lose the best love she’s ever felt. 

But you don’t bat an eyelash, and Agatha is further confused. 

“We don’t want trouble. We’re just hungry. We’ll eat, pay, and then leave. You’ll never see us again.” You offer, and Agatha tries not to take hope in the fact that you haven’t run away, and used the term ‘we.’ 

“You killed my sister’s whole coven.” The old crone on the left said. Then she raised her hand to cast a bit of yellow from her fingers. But you were faster and you took the water cup, throwing it in the witch on the left to distract her. Before thundering your purple at the dirty casting witch. She flew backwards and her hand turned grey power leaving her body. 

The witch on the left was screaming as you were quick to cast the water to burn like acid. The two cried out, and a younger witch was sprinting towards the booth. You didn’t see the coven member, your back as to the door. 

Agatha was fast, though; her own purple splintered like a vine out and bound the younger witchling. Sort of like an anacado. Squeezing her until she erupted, and blood went everywhere.

“We are not going to eat here.” You say lamely as you both pop up from the booth and head towards the door. 

Agatha has a hand on your back, and it grounds you both. You are about to open the door when Agatha’s head whips around, hearing someone coming in from the back. 

The witch came forward and cast her powers to kill Agatha. It hit her hard, and you screamed out. 

The rays of magic that were hitting Agatha were pink..Until she sighed, her head falling back, and then the purple erupted like mist. Just as quickly as it started, it ended. 

Agatha did what she did best, draining the witch of her powers, and the corpse fell shriveled. Just like Alice and Agatha’s horrid mother. Like she’d done to thousands of witches over the years. 

But this, time, Agatha felt real fear. Turning quickly to look at you, what she hadn’t expected was for you to grab her hand. 

“I got you baby. Come on we gotta find our boy and run before more come, ok?” You say, and you aren’t scared of Agatha. 

But the two of you sprint out of the diner, out of the town, and out into the middle of nowhere. 

Stopping when neither of you can run anymore. You are almost having an asthma attack, and Agatha can’t wait for you both to catch your breath she grabs you and her hands trail over your arms and torso. 

“I’m fine, Agatha.” You tell he,r and she grabs your face. 

“How long did you know?”

“What?” You say confused.

“Did you know the first time we met? Answer me!” Agatha shouts at you, and you flinch. She wasn’t your lover in this moment. 

“Agatha, I didn’t know who you were. I’d heard stories about Agatha Harkness, but I didn’t know it was you. I was born in Salem, of course, there were stories. I didn’t betray you. I didn’t know it was you!” You repeat, and Agatha releases you and she shakes her head, stepping back. 

“Tell me the truth.”

“When you found me in the middle of the woods I was casting a spell.” You say and Agatha nods once for you to continue. 

“I remember.”

“But you never asked what I was casting. Isn’t that weird? We’ve talked about everything but our past and what I cast that day. You never once asked!” You shout back, and Agatha feels her body grow cold. You’d never yelled at Agatha. 

This argument feels long overdue. 

“What did you do?” 

“I cast a spell, I asked for my soulmate. I didn’t actually believe it was real, Agatha! I thought I was going to find another animal a-a familiar, or it wouldn’t work at all! I cast a spell asking for her to come to me. I begged for you. I asked the moon for you. I wanted you so bad. I didn’t know who you were, though. And I didn’t manipulate you with magic, I know that’s what you are thinking!” You spat throwing your hands in the air like it was humiliating. 

“Soulmates, that is the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard!” Agatha yells at you and she see’s the hurt flood into you. 

“I was lost, and you were lost. And then we weren’t. How do you expain it? How do you explain that both our magic is purple! The same smell and shade! How do you explain that your familiar became mine? And you- in that diner, you syphoned their magic! Right? I used to do that! You know what they called me growing up in Salem? Harkness’s Harlot! Because I killed witches the same way you did! Only I didn’t know and I was..fuck ya know what? Fuck you Agatha Harkness! You don’t want to believe in soulmates, to believe in me? So be it! Forget me then! Go back to your life on the run! We may have been vagabonds traveling, but we weren’t lost! We were home to each other!” You scream into the wood, and Agatha just glares at you. She’s so pissed. “Have a nice life, soulmate.” You say and walk in the opposite direction. 

Agatha doesn’t follow you. 

Agatha stands there unable to move. 

The day quickly becomes night. 

Agatha still doesn’t move an inch. 

Mosquitoes are sitting on her left hand, and she can’t swat at it. 

Did she just lose you? 

To be continued...

[estavionpira]

Having just finished Watchmen, I think it's interesting to note how Scion serves as an inverted Doctor Manhattan figure. Manhattan's arc involves him attempting to remain connected to his humanity despite his powers making that pretty much impossible, until his connections with other people are manipulated to make him abandon humanity altogether by the end of the story.

Meanwhile, Scion starts out completely detached to humanity before bootstrapping together a human avatar just similar enough to feel aimlessness over the cycle being broken, continuing with him connecting with Kevin Norton, who gives him a purpose to work towards then leaves him, mirroring Eden leaving him purposeless after her death (I read Scion killing Behemoth, but then not killing any of the other Endbringers despite being directed to, as not him just following Kevin's directions, but rather a result of Scion being genuinely upset over Kevin leaving him with Lisette, in a sort of pre-Gold Morning - killing Behemoth was the equivalent of an emotional outburst - and the first time he really let his emotions get in the way of the smooth operation of the cycle.) Then, by the end of the book, his dissatisfaction and aimlessness are manipulated to make him throw a temper tantrum, at the most human he's ever been.

At the same time, both of them are responsible in one way or another for their setting's respective Greater-Good-Moral-Blackhole Conspiracy, with Scion's upcoming apocalypse being the root cause for Cauldron's existence and Ozymandias' Squid Plan being the result of the massively heightened nuclear tensions that sprung from Doctor Manhattan's existence as a US agent causing the USA to massively overextend themselves, develop an culture of invincibility and completely ignore detente with the Soviet Union, which made nuclear conflict practically unavoidable - even if Manhattan hadn't gone to Mars, it's made a point that he couldn't stop all the missiles in a full exchange; him staying might have delayed nuclear war, but it would have come nonetheless.

Even just on a visual level, they both have statuesque bodies that are entirely a nonhuman color (blue and gold), but while Manhattan started off wearing full outfits and slowly lost clothing as he grew distant, culminating in him being totally naked, Scion showed up naked and acquired clothing along with his first human connection.

[xxchumanixx]

First Date 1/11

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: Reader has a certain eye color (just because of a reference), but feel free to change that whilst reading, improper thoughts mentioned, fluff, Bucky being sweet and a bit overwhelmed.

Word Count: tba as always

Authors Note: Hello, my loves! I wanted to make this a one part thing, but I don't want to keep you waiting even longer, so here's the first part of this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Also, for the sake of this, Bucky has a car and can legally drive it.

Also this is not proofread yet. I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Love yall!

It took all his willpower not to cancel the date and leave you hanging.

He still wondered how on earth you had agreed to go on a date with him.

You knew each other for a while now, being introduced by Sam. Part of his past self - the one from the forties - had flared up when he saw you.

You had captivated him the moment he'd laid eyes on you. Beautiful seemed too dull of a word to describe you.

And after months of flirting and pining, he'd finally made a move and asked you out.

Of course, Sam had to give him the last bit of courage, saying there was no way in hell you'd not agree.

Which brought him back to his initial thought: Why on earth did you agree to go out with him? You were smart, courageous, kind, soft, and caring. Not to mention your beauty.

And him?

He was just a poor excuse of the man he once used to be. PTSD and nightmares included.

Standing at your door, he wondered if it was ridiculous to bring you flowers. Was that still a thing? It was just a casual date - no fancy restaurant, no suits and dresses. Something casual, something easy.

Something he could handle.

He was nervous, thoughts running haywire as his nerves stood on end. How would you react to the flowers? Would you like them?

He once heard you mention lilies as your favorite, so he brought a bouquet of them. Was it too much? Was he going overboard with this?

But it was too late to turn around now. He wanted to go on this date. And maybe it was a bit selfish, but he needed it. He liked you - more than that - and he wanted this to work.

And you had already agreed.

With a smile so bright, it could have rivaled the sun.

So it hadn't been out of pity, right? God, he was overthinking again.

Just knock, Barnes!

So he straightened his shoulders, swallowing the lump in his throat, and knocked.

When it knocked, you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

You couldn't believe he'd asked you out. You'd never have had the courage to do so, no matter how much you wanted to.

You walked to the door, hoping you looked good enough before you opened it.

Oh lord have mercy was his first thought. You looked beautiful - as always. So beautiful he almost lost his ability to talk for a second.

He mentally slapped himself, hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt.

Say something, idiot!

"Hey."

Smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.

Bucky mentally facepalmed. This was how he always got when he was nervous, and he knew it. He hated it. "Those are for you." He extended the bouquet with a hint of a smile, hoping it wasn't as awkward as he felt.

Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly as you took the bouquet from his hands, fingers brushing his, sending a shiver up your spine. "Wow." you breathed out, smiling. "Those are beautiful, thank you, Bucky."

His nerves settled a little when he saw your eyes widen and your smile. But his stomach still did somersaults, his heart raced in his chest.

He was glad you liked the flowers, he'd spent too long standing in the store for them.

He let out a little "You're welcome." as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, not sure what to do with his shaking, trembling limbs. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, fidgeting for a moment.

Get a grip!

"I'll just put them into water. Come in."

Bucky's eyes followed every move you made. The fidgeting, the nervousness - God, were you nervous too? He was tempted to ask, but he was scared that he'd embarrass you with that.

He entered your home, taking the time to take in his surroundings. It was... homey - a lot more lived-in than his own. "You have a nice place."

You smiled softly, walking into the kitchen to take a vase and fill it with water. "Thank you." you said. "It's not much, but it's home."

The little smile tugged on Bucky's heart strings. He followed you into the kitchen, watching you put the flowers in a vase. It was cute, and the sight warmed his heart.

Everywhere he looked was some part of you. The cookbook on the counter, partly covered by a towel, haphazardly thrown onto it. The little toy dinosaur on the windowsill. Blue, with green dots - it reminded him of your eyes.

He remembered you talking about a niece. It was probably hers then.

Whilst Bucky took in his surroundings, you admired the flowers for a moment longer. Had it been a lucky guess? Or did he remember your favorites? Smiling, you straightened a bit. "Okay, I'm ready to go."

"Good."

Smooth, Barnes, again.

Bucky mentally rolled his eyes, cursing his awkwardness. God, he wished he was as smooth as his past self had been.

He felt his shoulders tense a little again, but managed to keep the nerves from showing. He gestured to the door, silently asking you to go first.

You walked ahead, grabbing your small bag and a jacket, slipping into your shoes by the door. Your nerves were skyrocketing, stomach fluttering.

How on earth did you get this devastatingly handsome man to ask you out?

Bucky was glad you went first so he could take some time to calm down. Following you out the door, he took notice of how you walked, the way your hips swung from side to side.

He was only a man, after all.

He was tempted to reach out for your hand but didn't dare to. What if you thought it was too much? What if you thought he was too forward?

So he kept his hands to himself, stuffing them back into the pocket of his jacket.

The both of you walked to his car, Bucky opening the door for you like a perfect gentleman. He was still nervous, and the nerves were gnawing at his stomach, but it wasn't that bad now.

Just act natural.

Bucky got into the driver's seat, fumbling with the keys in his nervousness before finally starting the car.

He still wasn't sure what to say, the silence in the car weighing down on him. "You look beautiful, by the way." he blurted, glancing over at you as he reversed the car.

Great, now you probably thought he was an idiot.

You smiled softly, cheeks heating up a little. "Thank you." you said. "I wasn't sure what to wear. I've never been on a casual date before. Always these fancy restaurants and stuff. I'm glad it's not like that."

"Me too." he admitted. Taking dates to fancy restaurants had been the norm in the forties. But to Bucky, that felt so formal and stiff. He wanted this to be casual, to be comfortable. And he was glad you seemed to feel the same.

His lips tugged upwards in a smile, his eyes on the road, but the tension visible in his shoulders decreased noticeably.

Sam had warned him not to make it overly fancy. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he'd heard enough of you complaining about how stiff everything felt sitting at a fancy restaurant, surrounded by people that were so unlike you.

It felt wrong - you felt wrong.

Out of place.

This, on the other hand, felt nice.

It felt right.

You looked out of the window for a moment, not knowing what to say. You were nervous, trying not to act weird by doing god knows what.

The nerves were gnawing at Bucky too, the silence in the car deafening. Should he say something? But what? God, he was pathetic. Back in the forties, he never had any issues talking to women. Sure, his past self was a total flirt, but at least he would have said something and not just sat there with the silence in the car suffocating him.

He swallowed hard, cursing his own awkwardness as he drove.

"Did you see Sam lately?" you asked the first thing that came to your mind. Great. Just bring another man into this conversation. But it was something easy, something to break the ice.

Right?

Bucky's shoulders relaxed a little. He was glad you broke the silence, but his breath hitched when you mentioned Sam. Bucky would have never in his wildest dreams thought he'd ever be jealous of Sam, but here he was.

What if Sam had said something?

No. Not possible.

Bucky knew Sam would never do that. If you were on this date, it was because you wanted to, and not because you felt obligated to. Relax. You're overthinking this again. "Yeah, he was by last week." Bucky eventually said.

You nodded faintly, glad that the conversation seemed still easy. "That's good." you gave back. "He said he'd bring his sister's cookies next week."

The mention of cookies made his stomach growl, and Bucky had to bite back a laugh. "That'd be great, I missed her cookies last time." he replied.

If there was one thing he missed about the forties, it'd be good food. These days, everything tasted different. But Sam's sister, Sarah, made the best cookies he's ever had the pleasure to taste.

You hummed with a small grin. "Yeah, only because Sam ate half of them before he even landed." you told him. "I told him to bring you some, but he only had a handful left and insisted on giving them to me. I wanted to share, but before he went home there was only one left. Wonder how."

A laugh escaped Bucky, picturing the situation in his head. He could hear Sam denying eating half the cookies with a mouth full of said cookies. "Yeah, that sounds like him." he said. "I wouldn't have shared, honestly." Bucky added teasingly, a grin tugging at his lips.

You shook your head, still with that small grin on your lips. "I mean I wanted to share them with you." you explained. "Because he had none for you left even though Sarah instructed him to bring you some, too."

Bucky's heart fluttered, the grin on his face widening without his consent. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the fact that you had wanted to share the cookies with him. Not with Sam, not with anyone else.

Him.

And that made him happy. Happier than it should, probably. "Thanks," he said. "Although I don't blame him. Sarah's cookies are irresistible."

"Yeah." you agreed, mouth watering at the thought of the sugary sweetness of them. "I'm gonna make sure you're gonna get some next week, though."

"I will hold you to that." Bucky replied, giving you a smile. He felt the tension leave his shoulders more and more. Talking to you became easier every second. The silence in the car wasn't as heavy anymore, not as suffocating. But it did make him more aware of his heartbeat, of the way his palms got sweaty.

Just... have some trust in yourself. Ugh, yeah, right. Who am I? Dr. Raynor?

You smiled softly. You'd definitely make sure there were cookies left for him that Sam wouldn't eat up. Even if it'd be the last thing you'd do.

Bucky felt so giddy, and it was a strange but welcome feeling. He didn't remember the last time he had felt this way. He hadn't thought he was even able to feel like this anymore. The feeling left a warm, fuzzy trail through his entire body, making his toes curl.

God, he could not stop grinning like a lovesick fool.

"We're here." he said after a few more minutes spent in silence, parking the car. He got out, walking over to your door and opening it for you, holding out a hand to help you out.

Your smile widened as you shook your head slightly, taking his hand to get out of the car. "A true gentleman." you said, teasing.

He would have shrugged your comment off, but the smile you gave him left him speechless. Bucky swallowed hard, trying to keep his nerves in check.

The feelings and sensations that flooded him whenever you touched him, even if it was just the simple touch of your hand in his, were overwhelming him in the best possible way.

He closed the car door once you got out, still holding onto your hand.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the small, cozy looking café before you. Bucky's heart was racing when you didn't let go of his hand, even after he gestured towards the café.

"Yeah, let's go." you gave back, still smiling, though the feeling of his hand holding yours was doing things to you. It sent shivers up your spine, his warmth spreading through you.

The café looked cozy, nothing overwhelming. Just right.

The nerves Bucky thought he had managed to calm down were back in full force. He was certain you could feel his pulse through his fingertips. But he still didn't let go. If you didn't want to let go of his hand, he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to do it first.

Bucky's heart did another somersault. He never expected you to be so... soft. There were no other words for it. You looked like a literal angel. Everything about you, from your looks to the way you smiled... it was intoxicating.

He hadn't realized he was still staring until you turned your head to give him another one of your smiles, only this time it was wider and more radiant than before. He averted his eyes quickly, feeling his face heat up as he cleared his throat.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time something had affected him the way you did.

He felt your hand in his, it was soft.

So soft.

His mind drifted off for a second, wondering what other parts of you were soft. He scolded himself internally.

Jesus, Barnes. Get a grip.

He shook his head, opening the door of the café for you. The scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air, the cozy chatter of the other guests the background noise as Bucky guided you to a table.

You looked around, taking in the different sensations. It was perfect. Cozy but lively, freshly baked goods wherever you looked. Coffee in different varieties, but not too much. Not too modern. Too overwhelming. It was just the right amount.

It screamed Bucky.

Old-fashioned, neat, simple.

Warm.

Bucky pulled out a chair for you as the two of you reached an empty table, giving you a smile before taking the seat across from you.

He watched you look around, taking in the café. "You like it?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice. He was nervous, worried you might find the café dull. He knew it was silly, but there was always this tiny voice in the back of his head, telling him his ideas were dumb.

Damn self-deprecation.

You looked back at him with a soft smile. "It's perfect." you told him. "Nothing too fancy or over the top. I like it."

And you did, really. It was a far cry from the places previous dates had taken you, which had been a far cry from you.

This was perfect.

Your words made Bucky relax the tiniest bit. The tension fell off his shoulders, the little voice in his head grew quieter. He knew you meant the words, didn't just say them to be polite. And that thought meant everything to him.

A smile tugged on his lips. "Good." he said. "I'm glad you like it." Bucky was surprised at the relief he felt that you approved of his choice. The tension in him kept fading, bit by bit. He couldn't get that stupid grin off his face.

The café was a bit hidden, something you more stumble upon than seek out actively. "How did you find this place?" you asked, curious as you folded your arms on the table.

It was this typical place you'd see in the movies and shows.

Bucky cleared his throat, his fingers idly fidgeting at the table, tracing the pattern on the wood. "Ah, I kinda just stumbled upon it on one of my runs." He answered, a sheepish, awkward smile on his lips. He didn't tell you he had spent days finding the right place.

He was glad he had found this one, it was perfect. It wasn't too crowded, and it wasn't too small. Just right. Just the place he had imagined for your first date.

You hummed in acknowledgment, still smiling softly. "I like it." you told him once more as a waitress approached.

Bucky felt warm all over, the smile you gave him and the way you said you liked the café making him feel like he was on cloud nine.

He was glad you did, he had spent days going to cafés and restaurants trying to pick the right one. And when he had found this one, he had just known it was perfect.

The waitress came to the table, and Bucky ordered himself a black coffee. He glanced at you when you ordered a hot chocolate. Of course, you liked sweet things he thought, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Any goods I can bring you?" The waitress asked with a smile. She seemed to fit right into this place. You tilted your head slightly. "Do you have apple pie?"

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off you as you ordered the apple pie. The way your eyes sparkled when you did, how you tilted your head. He felt his stomach fill with that warm, fuzzy feeling again, and the butterflies in his stomach did somersaults.

There was no denying it anymore.

He was head over heels for you.

God, he hoped you'd want a second date after today. He didn't know what he'd do if you'd turn him down. The thought of never seeing you again, of never getting to hold your hand again... it terrified him somehow.

The waitress looked at Bucky expectantly. He'd completely missed when she asked him if he wanted a piece of pie, too.

You had to bite your cheek not to chuckle.

Bucky's eyes snapped up to the waitress, his ears heating up in embarrassment as he met her eyes. "Ah, yeah. Sorry." he said. "I'll have some too, thank you." He gave her a shy smile, hoping she wouldn't mind his inattention.

He was simply too distracted by you to pay attention to anything else.

She jotted it down on her notepad before she headed back to the kitchen.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to fight the goofy grin. He'd been too focused on you to listen to the waitress, and it gave you that fuzzy feeling you read about in books. It made your heart flutter, the butterflies going crazy.

Bucky's ears were burning when he looked at you, seeing the grin on your face and how it made the corners of your eyes crinkle. That grin had him melting, and he had to fight the urge to kiss you.

God, the date had only started and he was this far gone.

The warmth and fuzzy feeling spread in his stomach again, the butterflies in his belly going crazy. This was it. This was the feeling that poets wrote about. That singers sang about. He had finally been hit by cupid's arrow.

Get your shit together!

"So..." you broke the silence, grin softening into a smile. "She said their apple pie's the best in town."

Bucky had been so lost in thought and in his own feelings that he hadn't even noticed he'd been staring at you. He felt his face heat up, his body tensing with nerves again.

Get a grip, Barnes, he mentally scolded himself.

"Ah, yeah." he replied, clearing his throat. "I hope it's as good as she proclaimed." He tried to sound casual, but Bucky was certain he was failing.

Miserably.

"I'm sure." you said, humming. "This place seems like the one you read in books about. Hidden, but famous for their apple pie."

Bucky smiled, a soft look in his eyes. He loved how observant you were. The way you took in and processed the things around you, your attention to detail. He was certain there was nothing you'd miss, no small thing you didn't notice.

It was one of the things he loved most about you.

"Yeah, kinda does." he agreed, a soft smile still on his lips. Bucky was more and more amazed at how in sync you were with one another. Everything was just... right.

"I like it." you said again, this time quieter as your finger followed the pattern of the wood on the table.

The quiet tone in your voice was soothing, and the way you traced the pattern on the wood captivated Bucky for a moment.

He stared at you intently as your finger followed the pattern of the wood, a soft smile on his lips. "Yeah," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I like it too."

He was so, so happy.

The date wasn't even halfway through but he was more than happy with it so far. Everything was just... perfect. And he hoped it would stay that way.

A silence fell over the both of you, not awkward nor tense. It was comfortable. Homey.

Bucky just stared at you, taking in your features. The curve of your nose, the way your lips turned up, forming a small, soft smile. The way your eyes lit up when you smiled, the way you tilted your head ever so slightly when you were intrigued.

He never wanted to stop staring at you.

The small dimples on your cheeks when you smiled, the slight curve of your jaw, your long lashes - he was addicted to every single thing about you.

A few moments later, the waitress returned with your orders.

A smile tugged at Bucky's lips as he watched the waitress put the apple pie on the table. It smelled delicious and looked even better than it smelled.

God, he couldn't wait to take a bite.

He glanced over at you as the waitress left the table and was met with that gorgeous smile once more. He could look at you all day, he was certain of that.

The way your eyes lit up, your smile, your dimples, he was in love. He was certain of it.

Wow, Barnes. Slow down. Bucky mentally scolded himself, clearing his throat to distract himself.

Meanwhile, you hummed in content, pulling your piece of pie closer. It smelled heavenly.

Bucky took a bite of the apple pie, and good lord he was in heaven. It was the best apple pie he had ever had, just as the waitress had said - no, it was even better.

The smell, the taste, the texture... he took another bite, feeling the warm, gooey filling and the apples in the crust dance across his tongue.

The flavors made him groan quietly, and when he glanced over to you, he saw the satisfied expression on your face, your eyes closed, humming quietly as you took a bite of your own piece of pie.

You couldn't help the way you swayed your upper half in delight. "Wow." you said once you'd swallowed, staring at the pie. "I need this recipe." It was perfect. Literally.

Bucky's smile widened, the way you savored the pie and the expression on your face made his heart flutter like a teenager having their first crush. It was cute, the way you swayed yourself in delight, it was endearing.

"I have a feeling they won't give it to you." he teased, taking another bite of his own piece.

You sighed dramatically, pouting. "Yeah, I think so, too."

Bucky laughed at your dramatics, finding it endearing. It was fun, teasing one another like this. It was a far cry from the nervous, awkward Bucky from the start of the date.

You were loosening him up in a way he hadn't experienced before, and not once did he think you were pitying or mocking him. Your teasing was playful and genuine, and it made him feel... normal.

He liked it.

You smiled softly, eating some more pie. "I'll just have to come back for more."

Please do, Bucky thought.

The thought was so loud, it bounced off the walls in Bucky's mind. He wanted you to come back, to come to this cafe with him, to eat apple pie and sip coffee.

But the cafe wasn't the only thing he wanted to come back for.

His thoughts drifted off to a second date. And a third, and a fourth, and a fifth... He was in way too deep. He was in trouble, but he didn't really care. "I think that's a good plan," he replied, taking another bite of his own piece.

Taking a sip from your hot chocolate, you hummed. "It is."

The sight of you taking a sip from your hot chocolate left his throat dry. He took a sip from his black coffee to stop himself from gawking at you when your lips wrapped around your cup, your tongue darting out to lick away the bit of whipped cream that had gotten on your upper lip.

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze.

Get. A. Grip. Barnes. He mentally scolded himself for the thousandth time. But how could he, when you sat there, looking nothing short of an angel?

The more he took you in, the more he found himself falling for you. He was in love - the butterflies, the way his heart fluttered, the way his heart raced in his chest, the way he couldn't focus on anything but you.

This was what those old love ballads were about, the ones about cupids arrows and being struck by them.

Love at first sight? He thought it was nonsense. But now he knew it was real. He was falling, head over heels for you. Bucky Barnes, a hundred and six year old man, was a fool in love.

When you sat the cup back down, you didn't notice the bit of whipped cream on the tip of your nose.

But Bucky did.

He couldn't resist the urge, and he reached out with his thumb, gently brushing the bit of whipped cream from your nose. You were so, so precious, and Bucky couldn't get enough of you.

"You had whipped cream on your nose." he said with a soft chuckle, showing you the bit of cream on his thumb.

You blinked a few times, a hot feeling crawling up your spine at the sudden, though short proximity. "Thanks." you breathed out, clearing your throat quietly before you sent him a small smile.

A smile of his own tugged on the corners of Bucky's lips as you blinked at him, a soft blush spreading on your face. The way you blushed was endearing, it made him feel all fuzzy inside.

Every time you looked up at him and smiled, his heart fluttered, and his stomach did somersaults. Your smile could light up a whole room, he was certain of it.

Before he could have stopped himself, his lips wrapped around the tip of his thumb, licking the whipped cream away.

You heart stuttered as your gaze fixed on his thumb between his lips. Was he doing this intentionally? Did he even know what he did?

Swallowing, you quickly averted your gaze to focus on the remnants of your pie instead.

But Bucky couldn't miss the way you blushed harder when he licked the whipped cream from his thumb. Your reaction did something to him, made his blood race through his veins in a rush, his heart rate picking up.

God, you looked so cute, the way you blushed and looked away.

He felt his own face heat up, the blush spreading to the very tip of his ears. His stomach was tying itself into knots. Smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.

"So, um..." he said, trying to get his mind off of the way you had blushed and looked away, trying to get rid of the nervous flutter in his stomach. "I kinda have a second part to this date." he admitted, his voice sounding less steady than he had hoped it would.

No matter how nervous and anxious he was, he wanted to show you this as well. He was praying you would love the little place he had found for the second part of the date.

You tilted your head slightly, curious. "Really? What is it?"

Bucky smiled, his heart beating out of his chest with nervous anticipation.

Would you like his idea? Or would you think it was cheesy? Would you think it was a bit too much?

He mentally slapped himself for getting so worked up. It was just a small thing, but the idea of you not liking it was too much to handle. "It's a surprise," he finally said, the grin on his face widening as he saw the intrigued look on yours.

You pushed your lip out before biting it. "A surprise? Well, I'm intrigued."

Bucky had to fight the urge to lean over the table and kiss you. The way you pouted and then bit your lip, it made his knees weak.

He was so, so gone.

You could have asked him to run through hell with his butt naked, and he would have if you had batted your eyelashes at him in just the right way.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, tilting his head as he studied your face.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "What did you plan?" you asked, laughing quietly. "Well, yes, obviously I do trust you. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

The laugh you let out made his heart flutter again. His chest warmed at the sound. He could listen to you laugh for days and never get tired.

The sight of you laughing, with the corners of your eyes crinkling as your smile widened. The slight, almost unnoticeable dimples you had, your eyes lighting up when you laughed, the way you bit your bottom lip...

Bucky swallowed hard, pushing away the thoughts that came flooding back into his mind. Get your mind out of the gutter, Barnes. "You'll see when we get there." he said, smiling.

You hummed, smiling yourself. "I'll patiently wait then."

When you hummed, it sent all his blood south, straight to the lower parts of his body. God, the things you did to him. It was as if you knew you drove him crazy, made his blood race through his veins in a rush.

His heart did somersaults in his chest as his face heated up again, the blush he had managed to will away earlier returning with full force.

He took another sip of his coffee to get rid of the dryness in his throat. Get. A. Grip, Barnes. His inner voice scolded again.

Tag List

@ava @sapphirebarnes @skywalker0809

@freyathehuntress @queenslandlover-93 @judig92

@caplanbuckybarnes @frog-fans-unite @nocuzreally

[nottellingofname]

Let's end each other's lonely nights - Megumi Fushiguro

“For some reason, I am quite attracted to you.”

Megumi's brooding at the wild party was interrupted by you, a girl who had been staring at him the entire night.

He walked into the house with two friends - one with pink hair who laughed loudly, and another with honey-colored short hair who walked confidently.

From that moment, you couldn't take your eyes off him. You watched him move through the crowd from your spot near the glass doors to the backyard. Hidden behind the curtains moving in the breeze, you could observe him without being noticed.

The tranquil scent of nature wafting through the glass doors provided a welcome distraction from the overwhelming sweetness emanating from the party crowd inside. The fresh outdoor breeze carried hints of pine and earth, helping to clear your head.

You had made sure to properly feed yourself several hours before joining your friends at this gathering, but the gnawing uncertainty still lingered. This new "vegetarian" lifestyle you had adopted was still unfamiliar territory - every social situation felt like walking on a tightrope, knowing that one small misstep could send you tumbling back into old habits. Your self-control was a wavering thing.

When Megumi had walked in, his scent was the first thing that captured your attention - an unexpected and striking sensation that made your senses come alive. Unlike the familiar perfumy smell of iron that normally filled your nostrils at social gatherings, this particular scent was absolutely tantalizing in a way you had never experienced before.

The spicy yet remarkably clean fragrance wafted through the air like an invisible thread, pulling at something deep within you. Notes of sandalwood mixed with a fresh, almost citrusy undertone created an intoxicating combination that made your head spin slightly. Your eyes instinctively darted across the crowded room, desperately trying to locate the mysterious source of this captivating aroma.

Suddenly, you found yourself drifting through the party like a shadow, your movements unconsciously synchronized with your unsuspecting target. With each passing moment, you felt more irresistibly drawn to follow his path through the crowded room, though he remained completely unaware of your careful surveillance.

For exactly two hours and seventeen painstaking minutes, you had orbited around Megumi like a determined satellite, having abandoned your friends with a flimsy excuse about wanting to "mix around" at the party.

You probably weren't as subtle as you thought, especially since Megumi stayed in one spot the whole time, sitting on a barstool in the kitchen. Throughout the evening, you had executed an increasingly elaborate dance of casual encounters - strategically timing your movements to pass behind him multiple times, making repetitive trips to the kitchen under the pretense of fetching drinks that invariably found their way to random partygoers' hands. There was even that particularly bold moment when you simply stationed yourself next to him, as still as a statue, trying to appear nonchalant while your mind raced with unsavory and gory thoughts of him. Despite all your obvious attempts to get his attention, Megumi didn't react at all. He just sat there like a statue, completely ignoring you.

His breathing maintained a steady, unwavering rhythm, each measured inhale and exhale betraying no sign of disturbance. Those striking eyes, framed by impossibly long lashes, remained fixed ahead, refusing to acknowledge your presence even as you lingered in his peripheral vision.

Not a single muscle in his face twitched to indicate he had noticed your careful observation, his expression remaining as impassive as carved marble.

Which was weird.

You were used to turning heads wherever you went. People always noticed you, stared at you, and whispered about you when you walked into a room. You naturally drew people to you, making them stop and stare, even forget what they were saying. That's why it was so strange - and interesting - that this man completely ignored you. He didn't react to your charm at all, staying cool and distant despite your presence. Instead of being annoyed, you found this new challenge exciting.

Finally you had enough and decided to approach him.

“For some reason, I am quite attracted to you.”

“You don’t know me.”

It was a simple fact. Megumi was known for keeping to himself and avoiding social connections with others. Everyone knew who he was, but he barely acknowledged them back.

There was an unspoken rule that nobody should try to get close to him. He had built such strong walls around himself that people knew to keep their distance. Because he chose to stay so isolated, there was no way she could really know anything about him.

“We could change that.” You replied easily, with a cheeky grin.

Up close, his scent was even more intoxicating than before, a complex blend of subtle notes that made your head swim slightly. His impossibly long lashes cast delicate shadows across his cheekbones, framing those piercing green eyes that seemed to hold countless untold stories. His dark hair fell in perfectly disheveled streaks, as if carefully arranged by an artist's hand to achieve that precise “fuck me” look.

Despite maintaining his stoic expression, you noticed he hadn't made any attempt to distance himself from your presence. In fact, there was a barely perceptible shift in his posture - his shoulders turning ever so slightly in your direction, his head tilting just enough to indicate attention. Though his face remained impassive, this subtle adjustment in his body language felt like an unspoken invitation. Seizing upon this microscopic crack in his usually impenetrable facade, you decided to take your chance at properly engaging him in conversation.

“Is it so wrong for me to long for your company? It would be nice to have a conversation with an intelligent man. In my opinion, everyone here is far too inebriated to keep up with a conversation with me. I honestly think it’s these damn phones.”

A slight twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed his attempt to suppress what might have been a smile. With deliberate grace, he shifted position, raising one elbow to rest on the table's smooth surface. His closed fist came up to partially obscure his mouth, but you could still detect the faintest hints of amusement in his expression.

His intense gaze remained fixed on you, studying your every movement with a vigor that made your skin tingle. The silence between you stretched out—comfortable yet charged with attraction—settling around you like a thick blanket as you gathered your thoughts to continue.

“But if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine with me, too. No pressure. When you’re ready, text me your reply. I would love to hear your thoughts.”

You smoothly took out your phone, already open to the Contacts app, and held it out to him across the bar. Under the soft screen light, you watched as Megumi looked down at the phone, raising an eyebrow with interest. He tapped his fingers on the bar while thinking it over.

After a long moment, he finally reached out and carefully typed in his contact information before sliding the phone back to you. To make sure he hadn't given you a fake number, you immediately called it while looking into his eyes. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, you felt a rush of satisfaction - he had given you his real number.

"Thank you," you glanced at the saved contact, "Megumi Fushiguro from the party." You let out a soft snort. "I look forward to speaking with you again."

Walking back towards the front door, your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions from the unexpected interaction. The lingering scent of his presence made your throat burn with an ferocity you had never experienced before. Your carefully maintained self-control was starting to slip, replaced by an overwhelming thirst that threatened to consume you entirely.

This called for an immediate hunting spree to regain your composure. Once outside in the cool night air, you didn't hesitate - your feet carried you swiftly through the shadows towards the nearest forested area. The familiar path to your hunting grounds offered some comfort as you sought out your preferred prey. In these dense woods, far from human eyes, you could freely pursue what you needed most: deer, whose rich blood had always been your favorite means of sating this endless hunger.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Hermit-A-Day Day 18: Favorite Build

This one is going to have a more normal fic formatting and is not related to my Glitch universe. Instead, it's related back to a post I made a long time ago on my main blog before I even made this one about Season 9 Pearl being over taken by an alien plant parasite. It is also somewhat inspired by "Can you tell I have no floor?" by allbluestarling on AO3 which is just a really cool fic you should read if you haven't. If you couldn't guess from the banner of this blog, my favorite build is Pearl's season 9 base.

@hermitadaymay

CW: Parasitism (not vividly described or gory but if that wigs you out in general I wouldn’t read it)

It Wears Her Skin

It's been weeks since Gem has seen Pearl. Weeks since anyone has seen her, really, but Gem is her best friend and so it makes absolutely no sense why Pearl won't respond to her messages. Generally, Gem has tried to give her some space. Pearl is an introvert who gets overwhelmed sometimes and needs to be alone and Gem respects that. It's just... she hasn't seemed right all season. She's a perfectionist, sure, every builder is. Gem gets lost in her builds too, has had days this season working on the castle or the tree where she forgot to eat or sleep until she was reminded to do so. But the last time she had seen Pearl- well it just wasn't right. So three weeks after the last time anyone has seen Pearl, Gem decides to hop over the river and bother visit her at her base.

The ground sinks slightly under her feet. It's all wet moss, Gem had watched from her side of the bridge as Pearl placed thousands of moss blocks by hand. The terrain rises up around her in deliberate shapes, molded over days and weeks of work. Custom trees litter the landscape, in vibrant colors that should not work together and yet do, oranges and pinks, blues and yellows. Creeping purple vines claw their way out of the ground and sway in the wind. All of it made of blocks that were so deliberately chosen for tone and texture that it isn't until you get right up next to one that you would notice it isn't actually organic. And that's just the landscape. Looking up, Gem watches the swaying petals of the two massive plants that tower over Pearl's base, one a massive flower and other shaped vaguely like an animal's head. It's all gorgeous, a beautiful display of creativity and design, of form and color.

Then there's the contrast of the buildings. The industrial grey and red blocks placed on the landscape like they don't belong, like something alien and jarring. They work against the land rather than with it, so different from the way Pearl usually tries to wrap her bases in with her extensive terraforming. The "human" part of the build, Pearl had said. Gem knows that below her feet is the tunnel with its rotting vehicles and flickering lights and stained medical bay. For just a moment, Gem stands in awe, staring at her friend's work.

"What are you doing here?" A familiar voice asks from behind her in a very unfamiliar tone. Gem turns, startled. Pearl stares at her, blue eyes icy and expression unyielding. She laughs awkwardly, not quite sure what to do.

"What, I can't pay my best friend a visit?" She tries to tease, forcing a grin, "I miss you, it's been too long and everyone else is boring me,"

Pearl grunts in acknowledgement but turns away from her, staring at a patch of mossy ground that's still empty. Her eyes narrow, a deep line forming between her eyebrows. Her teeth catch her bottom lip as she stares at what looks to Gem to be nothing.

"You planning something?" Gem tries, getting closer. She puts a hand on Pearl's arms and Pearl flinches away like she's been burned. Gem snaps her hands back to grip the fabric of her dress. Her and Pearl are normally both open with things like casual hugging or touching. It's not like Pearl to reject it like that.

"I just need to-" Pearl cuts herself off with a horrible sounding cough. She reaches into her overalls for a small notebook with jerky and frantic movements, hands shaking as she grips her pen. "There's something that should be there- there was something there. There was something there, there was something there, there was- there was,"

She's borderline hyperventilating as the sound of scribbling fills the air. Gem approaches carefully, like she would a wild animal. If Pearl didn't want to be touched before she surely won't want to be now. But she isn't quite sure what to do here.

"Okay, we can put something there then," Gem tries to sound comforting, to sound calming. But Pearl is still scribbling and muttering, not even seeming to remember that she's there. She takes the moment to really look at her friend. Pearl is clammy and too thin, dark circles bruising under her eyes. Her nails are bitten and jagged down to the nail bed and the skin around them is torn and red like she's been ripping it. Wait her hands. Her hands which are still sketching fervently. Something catches in Gem's throat. "Since when were you ambidextrous?"

Pearl stops suddenly, turning to look at her. And she drops the pen. From her left hand. She stares straight into Gem's eyes and how had Gem not noticed before that the blue is all wrong? They're less cerulean and more cyan, bordering on green. They glow, just slightly, in the shade of the giant flower. They're the same color as it's petals.

"I'm not ambidextrous. What are you talking about?" Pearl questions defensively. It's like she thinks staring hard enough will make Gem forget what she just saw. Gem lifts her head up, resolute, and meets her gaze.

"Can I see the sketch, Pearl?" She keeps her tone light, kind. "Must have been something really impressive to have inspiration strike like that?"

Pearl barks out a laugh that is not Pearl's laugh. "Yeah, sure yeah. Inspiration. Sure, I don't see why not, I guess," And with obvious reluctance, she hands the notebook over to Gem. She can identify the unfamiliar tone from earlier, now that she's heard Pearl speak more. It's like someone who isn't used to Pearl's voice is trying to speak with it.

Her suspicions are only confirmed by the drawing. The lines are thick and short, roughing out another industrial building, a signal tower maybe, in the space. Pearl's designs, even the quick ones, even the blueprints, have thin lines. She never pushes her pencil to the paper too hard, she typically builds shapes on top of each other rather than the choppy lines she's just done. This doesn't look like anything Pearl has every drawn that Gem has seen.

"Who are you?" Gem asks the thing using Pearl's body. She (they? it?) startles back, blinking rapidly. A nervous smile (not Pearl's smile, too crooked, their mouth is closed. Gem has spent so long encouraging Pearl to smile with her teeth) spreads across their face.

"I'm Pearl!" They insist. Gem just stares and their smile drops. They look.. scared? "I swear I am, really,"

"No, you aren't," Gem reaches to her side, wrapping her hand around the hilt of her sword.

"She gave me permission!" They shout suddenly, hands going up in surrender, "She wanted to help me!"

"What did you do with Pearl?" Gem growls, drawing the sword. The thing that is not Pearl backs up.

"I didn't do anything! She's still here she's just... letting me use her body for a while!" They insist, "When I'm done I'll give it back!"

And it... admittedly sounds like something Pearl would agree to. Especially if she really felt like whoever this is needed it.

"Why?" Is all Gem can think to ask. And the thing that isn't Pearl tilts their head, like somehow they hadn't been expecting that question.

"Why Pearl or why do I need her body?"

"Both, I guess,"

"I met Pearl in the void between worlds. She floated with a group. I stuck myself to her, tore a hole in her suit to touch her so I could speak to her," They've dropped trying to imitate Pearl's pattern of speech at all. Gem can't tell if it makes it more or less unnerving to hear this stranger’s cadence coming out of her best friend's mouth, in her voice, in her accent. "I told her my plight. I am lost. Humans had been to my world and they had disappeared. I was curious about what happened to them so I wanted to find some. I found Pearl,"

"She's not a human and even if she was she wouldn't know what happened on your planet," Gem interrupts. She can't tell what she's feeling right now. Her body is just cold.

"Yes, I found this out. Her being a shapeshifter is actually what made this possible. I asked her what the humans had been doing on my planet and she had no answer for me. But she agreed to help me recreate where the humans had been so I could do my research when she arrived in her 'next season'.” The thing using Pearl's body takes their right arm out of their black long sleeved shirt and shows Gem where, presumably, they had burrowed in. A cyan flower, maybe the size of the palm of her hand, grows out of Pearl's bicep. “I burrowed my way into her and she allowed me to use her knowledge of this world and it's resources to rebuild my memories. If she were a human I would not be able to use her form like this and leave her alive. I’ve melded with her code,"

The skin around where the flower sits is slightly discolored purple and just under the skin Gem can seen the spreading of dark blue roots. It isn't as gross as she expected it to be. It doesn't look super painful or super invasive even as she knows that this is some kind of parasitic plant using Pearl's body. Maybe they tried to be gentle.

"Is she gone?" Gem is afraid to ask the question. The alien puts their hand on Gem's shoulder reassuringly.

"No, she isn't. I am not always in control, only when I am working on this. When she comes to your meetings, that is Pearl. I am only borrowing her body for this. She is still speaking right now, even. She helps me know what materials to use, she guilds me in my building. I will leave once I've figured out what happened to the humans and my work is done," They slip their arm back into their shirt as they speak. Gem feels better, at least, knowing that Pearl is still there.

"So why haven't I seen her in weeks? And why do you look so worn down?" Gem questions. The alien blushes, looks down at the ground in shame.

"I am of singular focus, often. I don't always recognize how long I've been working. I forget that Pearl's body has needs, like sleep and food. My species photosynthesizes," They admit. Gem tuts, putting her sword away finally.

"Honestly, every builder gets like that sometimes, even those of us that know how an animal body works. But that's my friend's body you're using there. You should take better care of it," Gem insists.

"Right, yes," It agrees. "I will."

"Maybe try some soup. It's good, I promise,"

[angstfactory]

"Yeah, well, sometimes I go for drives n' lay out in the back here," Jesse shared, without thinking about it much. See, when he wasn't all stuck up in his head life that, he was a bit more forthcoming with information on himself. "N' it's nice to have some tunes for it." He didn't add, however, that these drives were usually taken at night as he preferred the cool night air and a sky full of stars.

"Honestly, might have to kick your ass if you even think of shit talkin' this," Jesse warned with a slight narrow of the eyes, though there was a certain type of curl at the corner of his lips that said this threat wasn't real. People would have their opinions, regardless, he knew that. But he would be pretty disappointed to find if Dante didn't like it, since Jesse liked it so much. He wanted Dante to like it, and he just felt like the guy would.

His tongue idly traced the ridges of his teeth, considering the other man as he mentioned finding someone who didn't mind the noise. Jesse felt there was truth to it, for sure. He'd always figured that if someone couldn't handle him at his worst, they sure didn't deserve him at his best, right? Or maybe that was all some excuse? Because it was easier to be tough than vulnerable.

Jesse shot Dante a look of faint amusement. "Horny baseball musical magic?" he repeated the phrase, because that was colorful. But he supposed it was a fair assessment, when he considered the song itself. It was definitely full of horny teenage angst. Sudden movement pressed Jesse backwards, almost to where he was flat on his back, because Dante had chosen that moment to physically slide over him to the other side. "Ah," he released a surprised breath, because at first Jesse thought the guy was trying something else entirely, and now was thankful it was so damn dark out there the embarrassment wasn't obvious, "sure, alright." It came off so awkwardly, because damn it, that got him back up in his head again and he was feeling some kind of way and not knowing how to deal with it. "So you can't hear well," Jesse assumed, latching onto this instead as it was safer, as it reminded him of what he'd come to realize earlier before he damn near drowned himself in beer.

It had taken him a moment to connect those dots, but now Dante had confirmed it. Made sense, when he thought back on some of their conversation and how a couple of the guy's comments had seemed a bit off or random. No wonder the man thought he mumbled.

The movie's sound was fairly loud, and despite the discman being at full volume, it wasn't loud enough. It was natural, for the two of them to hunker in closer and closer together in order to get the full experience of the song, which was a lengthy eight minutes of horny baseball magical music. Jesse got caught up watching Dante's facial expressions more than the song itself, trying to determine how it was faring. They seemed to bopping in tune with the beat. "Yeah, it's intense," Jesse smiled, forgetting to turn off the discman as it started into the next song on the CD, "can't tell me we all didn't have somethin' like that happen, right? Shit, I gave a desperate promise once or twice, back in the day. Hard to stop yourself once you get riled up, you ain't even thinkin' straight no more."

That big, goofy grin of Dante's finally seemed to have made a comeback. Jesse felt good about that. Hopefully he didn't cause it to go away again like before. "What's cabron mean?" the word was foreign to his tongue, the pronunciation of it not too better, either. "You keep callin' me that," he commented, and even though he could have sat back to give Dante back his own space, Jesse hadn't done so. "You're cussin' me out in Spanish, huh?" he prompted, though he was smirking.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Dante watched Jesse jog around the truck like it was the most natural thing in the world to go hunting for a CD player in the middle of a drive-in, and despite himself, he huffed a laugh. “You’re tellin’ me you got a discman ridin’ shotgun? Aye, you really don’t fuck around, huh?” His tone was teasing, but not unkind, and that wall he’d started stacking back up, brick by careful brick, was already crumbling again

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When Jesse flopped back down beside him, making the whole truck groan, Dante shifted just slightly so their arms brushed. He didn’t move away, though, just sat there with the contact. “You better not be oversellin’ it,” he warned lightly, though the smile was there, tugging stubborn at the corner of his mouth. “’Cause if I listen to this and don’t immediately feel like makin’ out in the backseat of my Regal, I’m blamin’ you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The movie flickered on behind them, mostly ignored, and the sounds of chaos and camp blurred into the background. Dante’s gaze drifted back to Jesse as he spoke, and his expression softened with it. The firelight licked at his lashes, casting gold along the edges of his face. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice lower, more certain. “I get that.” He hesitated a second, then added, “But I don’t think you gotta shut up first. Not all the way. I think you just need someone who don’t mind the noise.” He didn’t say it, but his mind flicked briefly to his cousin - the only person who’d really seen him after the crash. The one who didn’t ask for an explanation when he bailed on everything and everyone else.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “C’mon, then” he said, nodding toward the player. “Let’s hear this horny baseball musical magic of yours.” His smile faltered after just a second, and he said, “Um.” His face burned, and he really didn’t wanna talk about it, but, with the music playing loud in the background, and Jesse having been on his bad side… He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and then crawled over the other, just real quick. “I can hear better on this side.” Was all he said, then he pushed play. Could he have hopped off the tailgate and moved himself that way? Yeah, but Dante rarely thought, just did.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It was still a little hard to hear, and he subconsciously started moving even closer to the discman, but the grin grew on his face as the song continued. “Paradise by the dashboard light, huh?” He said, and by the time the interlude completed, he was laughing. “Oh, damn, that’s all crazy.” The song continued on, and Dante nodded his head, tapping in rhythm against the metal of the truck bed. He really liked the song.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Then the final verse came, and Dante sat there blinking, mouth parting in disbelief. “You weren’t kiddin’. Promised forever and shit!” His tone was full of giddy outrage, his grin spreading again. The thing about Dante Reyes, underneath all the bruised pride and bad decisions, was that he was a chismoso at heart. This song had the same wild, dramatic energy as sitting around a cousin’s kitchen table, talking mad shit and laughing till his ribs ached.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You got taste, cabrón.” He said as the song came to a close, the toothy grin having returned.  At this point, the movie was just background noise, he hadn’t looked at the screen in a while.

[queennai714]

Random hcs I have because I may be cringe but I'm free part 32 (Ninjago)

(Wow it feels good to be making one of these again)

Anyway, this one is going to be Movie edition! I usually have a love/hate relationship with high school AUs, but this one gets a pass.

Basically, the entire ninja team despises dress codes, and they all have their ways of subtly (or not-so-subtly) fighting the system.

Cole just doesn't care. He wears whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he can afford to get written up for it because: a) The infractions are never usually that bad, he's just alt and might occasionally wear a few too many belts or an "offensive" graphic tee, and b) He actually has pretty amazing grades and is always super respectful of the staff, so none of them actually want him to get in trouble.

Jay, on the other hand, is absolutely terrified of ever actually getting written up, but still wants to speak up in his own way, which usually culminates in him completely tricking out all his clothes and supplies. Every inch of his backpack is covered in holographic stickers, every jacket he ever wears is so cluttered with pins that people can hear him coming from down the hall, and every outfit he puts together is as loud and colorful as possible while still staying within guidelines. He's gotten a few odd looks and rude comments, but every time he sees someone show up to school in something bold, or even just something they've never worn before, he knows it's worth it.

Kai very much does not have the same problem as Jay and is just a straight up rebel leader. He couldn't care less about being written up and is usually the first one to jump onto a protest whenever its proposed. He's the kind of guy who would organize for all of the boys to show up in skirts the day after a girl gets dress-coded for hers, or wear crop-tops for workouts. Every time a girl gets sent to the office because of her sleeves, Kai just completely ditches his red jacket (He usually wears a tank top underneath anyway) and whatever friends he has in that class will pretend to be distracted by the scandalous shoulders. Basically, he knows that being a star athlete makes him untouchable, and he takes full advantage of that power.

Nya is very similar to her brother in the sense that she actively fights the dress code, but unlike him, she doesn't have coach-granted immunity, so she has to be a bit more...sneaky about things. A skirt that's ever-so-slightly too short, carefully placed rips in her jeans, and a complete indulgence into every aspect of the dress code that isn't especially enforced. Bold jewelry, graphics that toe the line of "inappropriate", wearing tights and t-shirts under what would normally be "too short" or studded jackets over what would normally be perfectly fine, any way she can fight the rules without getting herself sent to the office. She has tried them all and rotates methods depending on the day.

Zane, as usual, is almost the exact opposite of Kai, but was also heavily inspired by the others. His inherent need to follow established rules, no matter how much he dislikes them, combined with the art of subtlety, eventually birthed a master of malicious compliance. Seeing as his usual style fits perfectly within the dress code anyway, and that he's absolutely beloved by every teacher he has, Zane's preferred method of revolution is by following the dress code to the letter, even when it inconveniences him, and occasionally pointing out other's infractions. (Never the legitimate ones, of course. No, Zane targets the teachers themselves). This also means that he's usually the one to deliver the punchline in all of the school movements, putting into words exactly why the students are revolting, or the irony of certain policies to the highest-ranking staff member he can get his hands on.

Lloyd literally could not be bothered with the dress code. Sure, he'll join Kai's movements, but everybody at school either avoids him like the plague or gets him in trouble for no reason anyway, so, like Cole, he usually just ends up wearing whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He lets the teachers decide if they want to bother with writing him up or not.

[respectthepetty]

Joke's (Sad) Face

This post is about Joke's face.

But it's not about his actual face.

It's about his Joker face.

While Joke was surrounded by Jack's blue at the hospital, I just couldn't stop thinking about how pretty War is.

Which is why it's so tragic that his character, Joke, spends so much time being sad.

He has been sad since the very beginning and has remained in this state throughout the series.

Which is probably why he created the red Joker moniker.

A joker is a trickster. A joker is similar to a jester. A joker should be happy.

But Joke is anything but happy and his sadness began when he was child who couldn't cope with academic stress, so he began to use the sad face.

Then a kid he never met fixed his frown and turned it upside down. Jack made him smile.

And years later, at a bar late at night, that kid would make Joke smile again.

By simply sitting with him.

Joke was sad about his life, and Jack told him that it was okay.

Then he told him to smile.

Because like I believe, War Joke is so beautiful when he smiles.

Jack, with his blue (spray bottle), has been wiping Joke's sadness away for years, even without knowing it.

And as Joke returned to his childhood home to all the sticky notes marked with red sad faces, he believed he would never be as happy as he was with Jack again.

The time Joke spends with Jack is the happiest of his life because Jack makes Joke happy, which is why Joke got the smiley face tattoo.

Because Jack was a truly happy kid when they first met, and gave that happiness to Joke.

But things change.

Joke's other tattoo is of a dual smiling face and sad face, and when Joke approached Jack after five years, he said he wanted to bring back the old Jack. After that encounter, Jack asked his grandmother if he had changed to which she responded that he couldn't stay a kid forever.

Jack let Joke escape in the fashion event. Jack was blamed for the necklace being stolen, yet showed up to the hotel to help Joke. Jack put himself in the way during the fight to keep Joke safe. Jack always turns the worst situations around and has sacrificed parts of himself as a result.

So Jack is darker now. He is no longer blue. He is black. He can't be Joke's source of happiness when he is struggling to find the good in life himself, so while Joke is in the hospital surrounded by Jack's blue with family and friends, Jack sits alone wearing a red shirt with one tiny lamp to give him warmth.

Jack has his grandmother, who blends both his and Joke's colors, but she's all Jack has ever had, and now she cares for Joke just as much as she loves Jack.

And this is a point Aran made in the very beginning and Hope repeated this episode — Jack, just like Save, doesn't really much. He doesn't have options. Joke does. Jack had to do what he had to do to survive and keep his grandmother safe, but Joke gets to return home to a family and a room that has been kept spotless. Jack doesn't. Well, not if he doesn't fight for it.

And that's what hurts. Jack has to fight for everything. So even though Joke has done a lot for Jack, Jack has done just as much for Joke. He gave Joke a place to stay, food to eat, friends, family, and happiness when Joke had nothing to give and nowhere to go. Jack himself has nothing, yet still gave Joke everything he has had to fight for, including his limited happiness and even the last bits of his color.

So it's important that the episode showed Joke not only giving Jack his color, but also his happiness. Joke has finally turned his sad face into a happy face, on his own.

Joke is depressed, and for so long, because of that, he believed that he couldn't be a source of happiness. Yet on this journey, he has brought happiness to his friends, grandma, and countless people along the way, so here he is, not only giving his color to Toi Ting and Jack, but also his happiness.

Jack has never wanted to see Joke's sad face, which is why he gave Joke his happiness.

And now that Joke is realizing that he is happiness, hopefully Jack never will.

But they'll have to fight for it first.

[azureoctahedron]

I 1000% back this. I'm both AuDHD and hard of hearing, and over the years I've used flashing lights or bed-shaking alarms. Well at one point, a clock broke, I had to replace it, and I forgot to check whether it had a bed buzzer. ADHD moment, right?

But then I realized my steadily growing collection of Govee RGB lights were programmable to turn on/off from the phone app and that I could program alarms. Alarms both for the night and day.

Those alarms are how I've finally been able to get a consistent sleep schedule, for pretty much the first time in my life.

I'd been using the app to turn them off/on manually or set them to bedroom lighting. I'd already come up with the idea of using the really bright lights in the morning when I come to take my eye meds. That was the main reason I bought the first ones, to brightly light the room like therapy lamps.

I'd also been using f.lux to lessen the blue light coming through on my monitor to help my sleep for years...but nothing was really working. I'd have to look up at the clock, process what time it is, and then decide when to go pass out. And the ADHD would just let that mental cue slip right through like my brain was a sieve.

At least I'd already learned to set my lighting to very warm colors at night, and to manually turn off several lights at midnight or 11 pm when I took my thyroid meds.

Then the genius moment struck. I could program my computer room's lights to turn off in a sequence (one by one or in groups every half hour after midnight) until I was down to a third of the original illumination, and then turn down to just one rope light over my closet doors which would flip to a very warm scheme. The light cue would help me wind down and turn off my computer once everything was turned off.

I realized the same could go for my bedroom - I could program alarms with bright colors that'd wake me up. There's nothing wrong with my eyes' ability to perceive bright-ass light pouring into them.

Now I go to bed around the same time (2:30-3:00 am), and wake up at the same time (10:30 am but I might need a few minutes to crawl out of my bed.)

I enjoy opening up my phone app and hitting the button I've named Good Morning to turn on my computer room's lights before taking my meds.

If those of you with ADHD are having problems with maintaining schedules, I would absolutely suggest building in light cues. They're a quick way to set up that you can't undo fast enough to just bypass what the cue's for, and they free up your brain from trying to hold onto timing information it can't keep up very well.

The less thought that goes into making the needed movements, the better, right? That's how it has worked for me.

Additionally...this might also be a way to enhance a diurnal cycle you're not picking up, too.

Some research I did over the years (to figure out why the fuck I couldn't get a working sleep schedule) shows that autistic/ADHD people's brains don't register diurnal light cues like neurotypicals' do. There's a tendency for a lot of sleep disruption and sleep phase disorders among ND people too. Clearly I had one. Never could go to sleep at the typical time of 9 pm for most people.

One of the reasons I went with the bright light setup in the mornings is that I figured I could enhance those diurnal cues so I'd register them better - bright and blue-leaning in the morning, and warm-leaning at night. (I will manually set my evening/night scenes around 10 pm or when I take my meds at 11, but the dimming part is all automated.)

And this has really worked for me. I also have my bedroom lights switch to an all-red and extremely dim and gently flickering scene for when I'm supposed to be asleep. Knocks me right out.

I can imagine this might help some ND folks out there nudge their brains to sleep/wake when they need them to.

There are a lot of smart lamps and smart bulbs out there - the bulbs will be cheaper than the fancy hexa wall lights I have. (Mine are the Govee Hexa Pros, and the normal Hexa ones in my bedroom alongside a Glide. Not exactly cheap.)

But they all generally allow you to set various colors, times, and off/on functions from their apps. You'll have to figure out what works best for you and in what sequence/times/patterns, but I think doing this kind of thing can really help.

Light Cues

From the "find what works" department of my life...

I was telling my prescribing psychiatrist about this and he really loved it, and it occurred to me I'm not sure I've ever talked about it on here, but I've started using light cues instead of alarms for some things.

I don't use a lot of alarms regularly throughout the day (I don't need one to wake up unless I'm getting up at an unusual time, for example) but I use them for one-off stuff like "time to start getting ready to go out" or "today you have a doctor's appointment". I found after a while that with an alarm for a regular repeating task, there comes a point where I just silence it and forget to do the thing. Like, I have almost all notifications on my phone turned off and it's still muscle memory for me, as it is for many people, to have my phone beep for attention and just silence it unthinkingly. So I started using lighting cues.

It's evolved a lot, starting with the end of the workday. The lighting in my bedroom is all floor lamps; the one over my work desk is on a smart switch, which plugs into the wall and then the lamp plugs into the switch. I set the switch to turn the lamp on at 8am just before I start work, and off at 4:30pm to remind me to stop work, which I don't always remember to do. The light suddenly going out makes that corner unpleasantly dim, and it's more work to turn it back on (open phone, open app, fin the right switch) than it is to stop work for the day.

Then I thought, this is so irritating it must be useful for other things. So I set it to go off from noon to 12:03pm. It's more of a pain in the ass to turn it back on than it is to get up, go to the kitchen, and do what I'm supposed to do at noon anyway: take my second Adderall dose. And the light is back on by the time I get back.

But I was running into the problem of taking the dose on an empty stomach as you're supposed to, but not having eaten since breakfast at like 5am. And now I'm in the kitchen. Having forgotten to eat my Early Lunch at 10:30. But the Adderall needs like 20 minutes to kick in before I eat, and by the I'm back at work, and then I wonder why I eat my body weight in pasta at 5pm.

So I set a light cue for 10:30 to remind me to take a break and eat. But I don't want to use the same cue for everything. The lamp on the other end of the bedroom doesn't have a smart switch but it does have a smart bulb, which is even more flexible, so at 10:30am it dims to 50% (irritating) and turns deep blue (doubly irritating). I leave the room, go eat lunch, and usually come back to sit on the bed with the cats for a few minutes. I don't mind the dim blue light when I'm on the bed -- I just can't work with it that way. So at 11 the light goes back to full white brightness and I get my cue to go back to work.

I have various other cues -- the living room lamps go off and the LED string on the headboard in the bedroom goes on low and red to indicate it's bedtime, and the LEDs go off a little later to remind me NO, it is BEDTIME NOW.

Obviously a lot of this is only possible with either analog daily timers or smart bulbs/switches, and those can be cost-prohibitive for some while others don't like having their lighting on the internet. But it's all switches and bulbs that I can remove easily, and they've come down a great deal in price -- mine are all Kasa brand so they're controlled from a single app, and I've found them extremely helpful.

Plus sometimes at night I put all the lights to deep blue and pretend I'm underwater and that's fun.

[freaky-flawless]

I still have my issues with the Haunt Couture line, but I'm really glad that they went back to the classic style of face-ups for the newer ones.

(Image description: Two close up photos of Cleo de Nile from Monster High of her Haunt Couture dolls. The first one is her original Haunt Couture doll, while the other is her Midnight Runway doll, in which in her eyes resemble the style of her original gen 1 doll.)

[moe-broey]

Weird-lighting Progress pic Because

It Is kinda neat to see BUT. PRIMARILY. MAIN POINT.

He's like candy...... not sure what kind. Can't be good for you, though

[crooked-wasteland]

Part 2: Does Anyone Know What's Going On?

So now that we have discussed how the "Good Faith" approach still fails to stop Stolas' character from being assassinated, I wanted to focus on this portion of the comment I received:

It has been color-coded for convenience.

Yellow is factual info about Stolas

Blue is factual info about Blitz

Red is factually incorrect statements

Purple is dubious and open to interpretation

In my previous post, I explained how the "Good Faith" way I have literally been told to view the scene doesn't hold up under any extent of scrutiny. Cross referencing the way I am "supposed to" experience the scene with the way the episode was written and directed was incompatible on the premise of Stolas alone.

But picking apart the sequence frame by frame makes it even worse.

Firstly, addressing the red highlight over Blitz's perspective, we see the idea that Blitz "doesn't remember" is factually incorrect. This is shown specifically through the fact that Blitz is even trying to steal the book in the first place.

Blitz didn't "forget", it's very clear that their day as friends was not that important to Blitz. In fact, Stolas himself is not significant to Blitz. This is an issue with framing, but this defines their relationship from Blitz's perspective. Because Stolas isn't precious or important, Blitz obviously doesn't care about whether he's sincere or not when it comes to getting the book.

Every scene that is from Blitz's point of view is always clearly fixated on the book itself.

Which actively disproves the idea that Blitz would ever have slept with Stolas from the beginning. There is no way someone would believe Blitz was honestly going to follow through with his flirting because Blitz has established he doesn't think all that highly of Stolas. And that is excellently supported by the animation.

The animation is very well done, and the part of the show most people have little criticism for. I admire the way the artists perfectly replicated micro-expressions. How Blitz's eyes feel unfocused as he deduces a plan to get the book. How he has the smallest little head shake as he mentally prepares himself for the act. Excellent art direction for the character.

But that feels... Redundant.

As stated in the last post, we already had this scene.

Right here, just seconds before, we already had this established. We already knew what Blitz's plan was. We already had this moment between the characters and the audience where we know what Blitz wants and how he thinks he's going to go about getting it.

Why is this scene repeated? I personally think the second instance works better, it gives Blitz a much stronger characterization and it actually results in the scene progressing.

In fact, if Stolas had actually called out Blitz for stealing from him as a child, and how hurt and disappointed Stolas was in Blitz, it gives Blitz an opportunity to actually connect with Stolas.

Imagine that whole awkward sequence above removed and replaced with Stolas actually drawing attention to how even their happy day was a lie and that Blitz betrayed what Stolas thought was a real friendship. Blitz then, manipulatively, tells some truth. He tells Stolas that his father put him up to it because his mother was sick and they couldn't afford her medicine, or something.

Blitz being honest, even in manipulation to try and save his own skin, would result in pity from Stolas. And while it works, it would also trigger Blitz. If there is one consistent bit of writing in the entire show, it's two things:

1) Blitz's deepest trigger is being looked down on.

2) Blitz hates the fact that he has to rely on others, and hates himself for it. So it is preferred that his relationships be transactional.

So with that robust characterization, Blitz would be disgusted with himself for appealing to Stolas' pity. And the scene more organically grows to be about Blitz making money. Because his family was poor, he stole from Stolas as a kid. Currently, he is trying to make a name for himself in the extremely competitive industry of Assassins in Hell. So the only way he can really stand out is by offering a unique gimmick, and he remembered Stolas' magical book.

This actually allows us a blatant rewrite of Murder Family: have Blitz be the one brokering the deal.

It would still be extremely weird to jump right to sex, but it would allow the sequence in the hallway to play a larger role. We could even show Blitz is a competent person with him deducing Stolas' family life from the pictures he saw. It makes better narrative use of the animation while also cleaning up the redundant writing.

So that goes back to the question posed at the beginning: Does anyone know what is going on?

I would say, no. Anyone who can't recognize the repetition between two scenes and fails to make the call to cut one of them has no idea about the basics of what writing is as a form of communication, let alone fiction.

And if they can't grasp the most basic fundamentals of narrative, how can you trust them to even know their own story enough to tell you what it's supposed to be?

Alright, Let's Attempt Some "Good Faith" Criticism:

Part 1: Medrano is also a terrible Director

My post about The Circus was sniped with a comment that feels like Medrano herself wrote it. I'll function in the belief that it actually is what Medrano intended, and then explain why it still doesn't work in practice.

Firstly, before I even attempt to deconstruct this comment, I need to clarify that Bad Faith has nothing to do with author intent. But it seems this is how the fandom and Medrano herself misuse the term. Bad Faith is a philosophical term, not a literary one. It means to be inauthentic or dishonest, not in a compulsive manner, but intentionally.

Bad Faith IS promising to do something you know you have no intention of doing.

Bad Faith IS knowing you are doing something selfishly while pretending to be altruistic.

Bad Faith IS denying your obvious reality.

Bad Faith is NOT believing that an Author's intentions are flawed or failed to be executed.

Bad Faith is NOT reading malice into something that wasn't intended to have it.

Bad Faith is NOT "making mistakes".

Bad Faith would be extrapolating that Medrano is a rapist herself due to her love of the trope. Or claiming to think poorly of Medrano in order to rile up other people's emotions when you really don't care.

It is a Lie, not a Disagreement.

There is no truth in art, and no "right way" to interpret what you see on the screen. The way people feel about Stolas' and Blitz's dynamic will never be "Bad Faith". Because it is a wholly real and unique experience to those who have interacted with the material.

So the main disagreement is that I see Stolas as a narcissist based on his patterns of behavior. And the irony is that as Medrano has become more insistent of trying to "correct" that image, the more it actually reinforces the perception for myself and most other people. This is not bad faith, this is now miscommunication.

Additionally, Death of the Author is NOT Bad Faith. It is a literary reading of the story with the intentions of the author removed to reflect how the work the Author made is connecting to those engaging with the material.

It says so much that Medrano and her ilk believe we are lying about how her work makes us feel due to the poor quality of writing and direction. In fact, the assumption of dishonesty is itself a source of bad faith when it is used in this manner.

Instead of seeing that once art is made public, everyone is allowed to have their own experience, or even acknowledging that the fact Medrano is asked so many questions to clear up her bad writing to even consider that maybe she is actively failing as a director as well. Instead we are somehow inauthentic because we don't agree with her, because she feels entitled to her work even after letting it free.

Which, if that isn't a great encapsulation of the problems between the characters of the show themselves, idk what is.

To breakdown this wall of text, this person is saying that Stolas meant "Ravish" in a way that is no longer in use.

The commenter insists that Stolas was actually referencing Blitz having previously stolen from him as children. And somehow extrapolates a bizarre fantasy of Blitz having returned a quarter of a century later to also steal Stolas, like Blitz stole all his stuff.

To be genuinely frank, the idea that this is readily accessible to any degree is demented. The term Ravish being used in this way is not a good term. This goes into bad writing, because I think we all have ideas of what certain words mean.

When I say sad, I mean a gloomy heaviness of an emotional kind. Like the grey cloud over someone's head that may start raining at any moment. It's a feeling of a depressed and subdued mood. Whereas the word distraught means frantic. High, negative energy. It's a panic-stricken sadness. Or even Depression, where the feeling of sadness may not even be tangible, but the similar oppressive heaviness inside one's soul is almost palpable. Grief-stricken is almost like a sense of fear mixed with sadness. A form of painful emotional horror that consumes the victim with a deep and pervasive sadness.

Words have built in connotations.

Ravish under the archaic use literally implies violence as a default. To Ravish something from someone implies the use of force. Meanwhile, the more current definition of Ravish still implies an almost carnal instinct. Something sudden like a viper's strike, but instead of venom it implies bliss. It is still implying something abrupt and physically stimulating.

And if you do not have a wide vocabulary, you will inappropriately misuse words by not understanding their implications. So while this may be a retconned, or even valid explanation from Medrano herself, it doesn't work on multiple levels.

In writing, it doesn't work because everyone who first saw that scene believed Stolas was implying that Blitz had come to have sex with him. Mainly because of this:

It's clear from this sequence that Stolas is viewing Blitz sexually. It contradicts the idea that Stolas had any other intentions, specifically because we see this from his perspective with the pink haze of lust and infatuation around Blitz. Add to it the unnecessarily awkward porn talk by the Hellhound guard and Stolas' blushing after the fact, we know what Stolas is feeling and thinking through nonverbal direction. And he's definitely not thinking about that giant bag of stuff Blitz stole from him.

Second, it contradicts Stolas' character. He's supposed to be intelligent. He finds Blitz's really obscure horse joke funny, but it is only funny to people who know things. We see Stolas' favorite things are books by how he is going through his library with young Blitz when they are children.

So Stolas would know the implications of a word like Ravish. It could have worked if Stolas was in some way upset over Blitz stealing from him, but he clearly is not from the moment they lay eyes on each other. Ravish would never be used for unimportant trinkets. The connotation is that it implies a struggle or having something precious taken from you against your will. And Stolas, being book smart, would know this fact. So him misusing the word in such a way also breaks his character, because it shows the book-smart guy is actually unable to learn from books.

Meanwhile, this is Blitz:

Doesn't take much rocket science to see Blitz is scared. The dynamic is on full display on how Stolas feels (he's seeing this as a porno script) and Blitz feels literally helpless. It's clear in this sequence that Blitz's is trying to gain some control over the situation only for Stolas to shut him down. And Blitz is both resigned and intimidated. He doesn't know what to expect going into this room and it's clear he doesn't think it is going to be anything good.

So when Stolas throws out that Blitz is there to "Ravish" him, you see Blitz concoct the scheme to get the book in real time.

When Blitz says "Oh, yeah...!" You can see it animated on his face how he is trying to come up with a plan to gain some ground. He sees the book, has a thoughtful look while the "Sexy music" plays (another layer of clear indication that Ravish was always intended to mean something sexual by Stolas) before leaning into the setup.

And here Stolas outrightly refutes the belief that he ever thought Blitz came to steal from him. Theft does tend to fall under "nefarious" actions, and if Stolas believed Blitz broke in to steal from him while everyone was distracted at the party, well, he wouldn't be saying this. He genuinely thinks Blitz is there for him specifically.

And then the two sit down and Stolas starts wanting to "reconnect", like an awkward coffee date after a one night stand. Due to the absolute strangeness of his horny fantasy, it's a good faith assumption that he wants this to be more than just some random sex, he wants a connection. Asking what Blitz does for work and getting panicked when Blitz admits to being an assassin.

Frankly, the best bit of characterization is that Stolas legitimately thinks for a second that Blitz may have been hired to kill him.

Anyway, this is going to have to be split into two parts because I only can post 10 pictures and I've already posted 7 and we still need to cover Blitz's perspective. So, let's call it here.

[howlinghound11]

Presenting:

My very first AU: Welcome Home Scooby AU

Lmao i already gushed about it on the original post but it's still so funny to me, imagining the neighbors in like classic scooby doo hijinks lol

I just had to draw the gang all together and make it all pretty!

Here's the original post btw! (I forgot to link it) also the full colors are in the notes of that post