#i tried differed brushes for the shading on his jacket and i like how it turned out

[pluto-glow]

This one took a bit, but next up from MyStreet, Gene

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1426

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

nothing could have prepared you for the man who walked through the front door of the inn that day.

he looked like death, his chocolate hair tangled, his square jaw riddled with bruises and dirt. heavy eyes fixed themselves upon your figure.

"you got a spare room?"

that voice, gravelly and low, betrayed the exhaustion that plagued this mysterious stranger. you couldn't help but stare for a moment, lost in thought.

"i ... ah, yes, of course. just a room for one?"

your hands swiftly moved to ring him up, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. the man visibly reacted to the metallic sounds of the register, an expression of mild panic settling in.

"yeah ..." he dug through his pockets, patting himself over until he secured a grip on his wallet. pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing nothing but an ID and a few sticks of gum. he clicked his tongue, defeated. "... this is embarrassing."

it was evident that something wasn't right with him; he looked as if he could collapse at any given moment. should you just deny him service and let him leave? what if he just got himself into deeper trouble? was he even in his right mind?

there was a fleeting moment of awkward silence as the two of you avoided eye contact. you took a sharp breath in.

"... tell me, sir, what's your name?"

his bushy brows rose in surprise. "er ... stan. stan pines." stan gave you a once-over, pulling a sly smirk despite his run-down appearance. "why? ya like what you see?"

a sort of scoffing chuckle left your lips. "this isn't really the time for jokes ..." your eyes trailed down to his stained jacket, torn-up jeans, and over worn shoes. at that, he laughed, which quickly turned into a painful cough. the concern became more evident on your face.

"-ah, you're right, of course. nobody would really want a guy like me, yeah?"

you couldn't bring yourself to respond to that. you could see the storm in his eyes.

turning your back to the counter, you picked up a key that was hanging from the wall, holding it out to him as you met his confused gaze.

"room 34. your stay will be on the house tonight, sir."

"... you're pullin' my leg."

"no, i'm perfectly serious."

hesitantly, he reached out his hand to take the key. your fingers brushed against his rough skin briefly before you pulled your arm back.

stan simply stood there, still processing what had just been given to him. he'd tried this before with numerous other places, and they'd all shut him down. he'd been through ... how many, four, five different states by now? finally, a night where he doesn't have to sleep in his car. the notion of spending a night in an actual bed ... seemed unreal.

"well, i ... damn. th-thanks, toots." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. a faint shade of pink rose to his cheeks, which he attempted to play off by staring at the ground.

how long had it been since anyone had shown him this kind of generosity?

unsure of what to do, he decided to make his way over to his room, locating the staircase and climbing up, stealing a glance back at you. you watched him ascend the stairs, leaning your arms against the counter.

your mind continued to race. the man looked like he'd just been in a fight. did he have wounds that needed treatment? did he have any place to go? ... of course, those were all personal questions that you knew you shouldn't ask about. he is only a customer ... at least you could offer him somewhere to crash for the night.

it had been two hours.

two hours, and yet, you still couldn't get him off your mind.

you figured you might be able to offer him some dinner.

or was that just you trying to come up with an excuse to see him again? you didn't think about it too hard.

making your way over to the kitchen, you had the chef prep a single serving of food, laying it out on a tray which you picked up and began to walk with. the carpeted floor softened the sound of your footsteps.

arriving at the end of the hall, you stood in front of the door labeled "34", hesitating. you steeled your nerves and knocked gently on its wooden surface.

a few moments passed. you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and footsteps as stan made his way over to the door, opening it and observing his visitor. he was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair damp and his face looking much cleaner than before.

"sorry if i came at a bad time. i just figured you might want a bite to eat." you averted your eyes by glancing to the tray of food you held, a faint blush rising to your face.

twinkling lights began to glisten in place of the dark storm you'd seen in him before. his expression softened in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

eventually, he spoke.

"why are you doing this?"

"... what do you mean?"

"i mean, you're wastin' your good food 'nd room. you deserve your money-"

he cut himself off, swallowing back a bitter feeling in his throat.

"-i ... i need to ... pay it back."

oh. is he ... crying?

you could feel your heart wrench in your chest. "s-stan. it's okay."

he furiously blinked back tears, taking a deep breath and putting on a weary grin. "will ya keep that food hot for me? i'm just gonna get dressed. i think i'll eat it downstairs."

"oh, of course."

"thanks a bunch." he winked at you, then shut the door, leaving you to stare at the room label again. you blinked, then turned around to head back down.

after some time of waiting in the kitchen, you caught the sight of him descending the staircase and walking over to you. he was wearing a different shirt, although his jacket and jeans were the same. his hair was dry and much poofier now that it was clean. you caught yourself staring at his mullet.

"didja wait for too long?" stan pulled out a stool from the bar, taking a seat and watching as you put his plate of food in front of him.

"nah, you're okay." you offered a small smile. "feel free to dig in."

and boy, did he dig in. this man hasn't had a proper meal in forever. his daily diet has consisted of strictly rationed cheap snacks and the occasional stolen burger and fries. you swore you've never seen a guy so happy to eat something before in your life. somehow, watching him was making you feel warm inside.

"this ... is the best food i ever tasted." stan mumbled, looking up at you in between bites. all sorts of different emotions were raging inside of him, and the feeling of being properly nourished was bringing them up to the surface. his brown eyes began to overflow with tears, and he cursed underneath his breath, eating more aggressively to try and distract himself.

"uh, stan? are you alright?"

that was the last straw. his brows knit together and he swallowed his food, dropping his fork onto the plate. the tears were flowing freely now.

"no. dammit, i'm not alright."

stan covered his face with one arm, his broad frame trembling as he choked back bitter sobs.

"it's just that ... m-my parents, and i ... s-see- and my brother-"

he hunched over, shifting to cover his face with both hands. everything was crashing down.

"oh, God, my brother ..."

you walked out from behind the bar, making your way over to where he sat and taking the seat next to him. you didn't really think at all, you just slid your arm around his back and-

the instant he felt your touch, stanley clung onto you desperately.

onto somebody who was showing him hospitality. onto somebody who cared enough to worry about his health. onto somebody unlike anybody else he'd met these past few years.

burying his face into your shoulder, he pulled you closer against him.

"'m sorry ... don't leave me alone."

the wetness of his tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. here in your arms was a little boy who just needed a hug.

you barely knew each other, but you had a feeling that was going to change.

"don't worry, i'm not going anywhere."

end

[ part two ]

[jcdlem]

ೃ༄ Apple Cider

johnny cade x gn!reader

warnings: not beta or proof read, brief mentions of smoking/injury, prompt credits to @/lovemeagoodprompt

5 times johnny wanted to tell you he loves you + 1 time he finally did !

i.

Johnny couldn’t quite tell what you were talking about anymore. Somewhere in the conversation, he’d lost track of your commentary—who was running away, who was in jail, who was going with who, who stole what and where and why…

He was about to nod, feign (or try to, at least) some form of understanding, when you suddenly stopped.

“What?” he queries, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Do I have something on my face?”

Without saying a word, you lean in, skimming the edge of his jacket collar before folding it down. A deep flush covers his features—he can only watch in stunned silence as you regain your earlier position, almost like nothing had ever happened.

“There!” you smile brightly at him; he swears his heart stops. He’s about to say something, but you promptly cut him off, resuming whatever story you’d been sharing before.

ii.

Johnny rummages through his pockets for what feels like the tenth time—still, the familiar weight of his lighter is nowhere to be found. A smile plays on your lips upon seeing his predicament; he doesn’t seem to notice, too caught up in frustration.

You retrieve your own lighter, tucked safely into the back of your jeans, and place it in his palm. That gets his attention.

“Keep it.”

He does so with hesitance, lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. Albeit a relatively small gesture, it has his head spinning—only you could make him swoon with something as insignificant.

“Thanks, Y/N.” he mumbles, averting his gaze before you can sense there’s something amiss. He drowns out the words threatening to spill from his mouth with smoke.

iii.

Johnny doesn’t like parties. Not the alcohol, or the music, or the outright concerning amounts of people. He does like you, though—perhaps that’s why he’s sitting on some flimsy couch instead of walking home.

His arm is going numb under the weight of your head, yet he doesn’t move a muscle. He briefly wonders how you sleep amidst such chaos; soundly, by the looks of it.

You stir with a small noise, further burying your face in his shoulder. He knows then he’ll be there all night. He can’t bring himself to disrupt your rest when you’re oh so peaceful.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

The rest goes unsaid.

iv.

Johnny lets you brush his hair back, doesn’t flinch as you press an antiseptic-doused cotton ball to the cut on his temple. The only sign of discomfort is the subtle creasing of his brows—somehow, you still catch on.

“You alright?”

He nods, straining a quick response to appease your concerns. He instinctively reaches up, traces the jagged outline of the wound. He knows for a fact it’ll leave a scar; an ugly one, at that.

“It’s not all bad,” you shrug, reading his mind once again, “makes you look tough.”

He looks away and tries to convince himself you mean nothing by it.

v.

Johnny rests his back on the grass, damp from the morning rain. You’re laying only a few inches away, hair splayed in different directions. He watches as you search for patterns in the stars—amidst your concentration, you don’t notice his gaze.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a closer look, smile because you’ve finally found what you were looking for (or, rather, something close to it.)

“…yeah.”

He glances at the dark sky; finds that its not nearly as pretty as you.

vi.

Johnny looks at the horizon, where the setting sun casts various shades of orange. The porch steps are rough against his knees, old and worn from years of use—still, he is calm. You seem to share the sentiment, much quieter than you normally are.

“Hey, Y/N?” his question is but a whisper; you hum in acknowledgment.

“I think I love you.”

Before he can regret it, you’re leaning your head on his shoulder. And, for once, you meet his eyes.

“I love you too, Johnny.”

[midnightcrw]

Running away

Chapter 5

Timorous

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: Life really had it in for you. Just moving to a new apartment seemed to unleash a brand new hell

Warnings: blood, scars

a/n: This chapter is pretty short, but I hope that it's alright with all of you. Please tell me if there should be any mistakes since I'm a bit tired from changing some things up in this chapter

The jacket lay languidly on the sofa, a silent sentinel to the night before. You had gently draped it there when you returned from the rooftop, a night when the city's twinkling lights seemed to pale in comparison to the sparkle in Simon's piercing eyes. Since then, you hadn't dared to touch it, fearing that the delicate fabric would lose the essence of his warmth.

The memories of your time with Simon haunted you, replaying like a scratched vinyl record, locked in an eternal loop.

Each repetition highlighted those tender moments when he gave you his jacket, his gaze holding secrets that made your heart race.

You didn't have to work today, which definitely made it harder to get your mind off things.

You had deliberately kept your distance from your messaging app, its notification icon flickering dimly. You tried to convince yourself that you didn't care about those unanswered messages, but the truth was far different.

You knew you'd have to confront them eventually, but for now, avoidance felt like the only refuge.

It had been years since those memories had seen the light of day, years during which you had gladly buried them deep within your heart.

The thought of those times had become a distant echo, until your move to this apartment had unexpectedly resurrected them. It almost felt like a sign urging you to leave, to flee once more.

But you knew, from bitter experience, that running away only compounded the problem. It was a lesson etched into your soul, a truth that had unfolded the hard way.

How you wished you could erase that day, could undo the cries that had escaped your lips. Regret and guilt consumed you like a relentless fire.

It ate you alive.

It devoured you, this unending cycle of memories. Night after night, the haunting screams from years ago replayed in your mind, as vivid and visceral as the day they were born. They never ceased, they merely slumbered, waiting for an opportune moment to resurface.

Sighing, you rose from the sofa and ambled over to your closet, a task you had procrastinated for far too long.

As you slowly opened the drawers, time seemed to stretch, each minute akin to an hour. Sweaters were your only task for today, and you placed them with deliberate care.

Your clothes didn't boast the vibrant colors of Grace's wardrobe. Instead, they were cloaked in darker shades, with only a few daring to be brighter.

Amidst the clothes, your hand brushed against something solid and unyielding.

Frowning, you retrieved it—a small box you had unceremoniously stashed away on your first day in this apartment.

It felt as though invisible strings tightened around your neck, suffocating you, and your eyes welled up with tears.

You couldn't fathom why you had spared this box from oblivion. Its contents held the scars of memories you wished to forget, but its presence seemed an insurmountable obstacle to relinquishing the past.

Your fear of someone discovering it, of them digging into your past, kept you from discarding it. Every item inside pointed back to you, a truth you dreaded.

Of being found.

The dread of being discovered, not just by anyone, but by them, gnawed at your sanity. They had an uncanny knack for resurfacing, tracing your every move with the tenacity of bloodhounds.

Even the faintest glimmer of familiarity would lead them straight to your doorstep.

The box remained untouched over the years, its exterior a tad dusty, as you hesitated to soil your fingers with its contents.

Someone once told you to keep memories close—photographs, trinkets, letters—yet you loathed and yearned for those words in equal measure.

If not for that someone, you wouldn't be burdened with these fragments of the past.

As you tilted your head up, you were met with the mirror on your closet door.

Gazing at your reflection felt foreign and unpleasant, as if you were staring at a stranger.

Deep shadows marred the brilliance of your once-sparkling eyes, and the contours of your face had lost their vivacity. The corners of your mouth drooped, rendering your countenance stark.

Unable to tear your gaze away, you pulled your sweater upward, as if in a trance, compelled to confront the secrets you had hidden for so long.

Slowly, you lowered your eyes, and there they were—the dark pink scars, a tapestry of pain etched into your abdomen. None were straight lines, each one meandered in a different direction, a testament to the chaos that had engulfed you.

They were deep, unforgiving, and some bore the faintest shade lighter, but their presence was a jarring contrast against your skin. Beauty had been snatched away that day, replaced by this disconcerting mosaic.

The memory of your desperate cries, those agonizing screams that had filled the room, replayed vividly in your mind.

But aside from those agonized sounds, not a single word had escaped your lips.

It was all your fault, but they didn't know.

People had asked questions, seeking to uncover what had happened and who was responsible. But you had swallowed your words, your throat constricting as you choked down the truth.

If someone had forewarned you that it would come to this, you would have fled, escaped it all.

But it was too late now.

You could never turn back time, never see that smile, and hear that laughter again.

You had obliterated every trace of information, ensuring there was no trace of your existence. You hadn't departed until every last vestige was consumed by flames.

No one was supposed to remember, except those persistent minds that seemed to track you down. You hated it.

Your fingers traced the scars, the ones that had once throbbed with pain, now only remnants of a turbulent past.

Looking at yourself like this felt foreign, you had avoided it as ardently as you had tried to evade the flames that once licked at your face.

Since that day, you had never worn anything that could reveal even the faintest hint of those scars. You had lost your sense of beauty, your feeling of desirability.

"Where are you going?" The frantic voice had called after you, footsteps echoing louder and closer, but you had paid no heed.

The palm of your right hand pressed down on the fresh wounds as blood seeped from the white cloth.

Your steps faltered, clumsy and uncoordinated, as you darted your eyes from door to door, searching amidst the overwhelming number for the one you sought.

"Stop!" Anger and frustration laced the word, and a hand reached for your arm, attempting to halt your frantic escape.

The touch scorched, a searing reminder of the pain you carried within. You wrenched your arm free. "Don't you ever touch me," your voice quivered as your teeth clenched, emitting an unsettling grinding sound.

Without waiting for them to react, you flung open the door and rushed inside. You barely even bothered to close it behind you as you inserted the USB drive into the computer, your heart pounding.

As you impatiently awaited the display, you rifled through every drawer, the stolen keys clutched tightly in your hand. The documents all appeared the same, indistinguishable save for their corners—some pristine, others darker or folded.

Your eyes darted frantically over each document, while the figure leaned against the doorframe. You refused to meet their gaze, for you knew it would only yield unease, confusion, and pity.

Casting various documents onto the floor, you finally located yours, clutching them tightly as the screen flickered to life.

With fevered determination, you opened each document that bore your name and began importing them onto the USB drive. "What happened to you?" The words were spoken carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal, but you offered no response, your focus solely on your mission.

Blood continued to seep through the cloth, the stain growing larger, but you paid it no mind.

Walking toward the door, you passed by the person who made no move to stop you, and you left with your final command, "Burn it down."

Tears flowed freely down your face, unbidden and unrestrained, as you let them cascade, unburdening your soul. You released your grip on the sweater, your gaze now fixated on the floor.

Faces from the past haunted your thoughts, etched into your memory like indelible tattoos. Some expressed terror, others fear, and still, some extended pity, but there were also those who...

Smiled.

A knock resounded through the rooms, causing you to flinch. In a flurry, you hurriedly stashed everything into the closet, where once-folded clothes now lay in a haphazard heap. The box found its place amidst the chaos, and you slammed the closet door shut.

"I'm coming," you called out urgently, then rushed to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water to soothe your parched throat. As you sipped the water, your heart still raced from the sudden shock of the knock.

With brisk footsteps, you returned to the living room, wiping away the lingering tears with the sleeve of your sweater. The glass still trembled in your hand as you approached the door.

When you opened it, the glass slipped from your trembling grasp, shattering into pieces. A gasp caught in your throat as your breath momentarily abandoned you.

"Laswell?"

Taglist:

@ghostlythots

@kittyoonsstuff

@poohkie90

@gothgirl6-6-6

@jupiternighties

@lumineeye

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Also, I'm not nice to Buggy when he tries to flirt. I definitely write him as a bit of a disaster when it happens. It's just going to get a bit worse from here. There's a storm mentioned in this chapter and a love confession. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. A shoutout to @lavalampskyy for telling me about the song "Warm" by Montcrieff because that song definitely influenced me to actually write this chapter and rework some things, so thank you friend! I've listened to it way too much in the last 24 hours.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 9

Buggy realized he was truly in love with you when you hugged him that day but he didn’t say anything, not yet. He wanted it to be perfect when he told you. He wasn’t quite ready to propose marriage yet either, and the two of you only had one date, sort of, which ended in him embarrassing himself, but the fact that you brushed off the spill and took care of him made him realize that he wanted that all the time with you. There was no one else for him after that.

He just needed the right time to tell you. 

The best time, he decided, was when he brought his coat to you once again one afternoon, a few weeks after the hug. Benji was at the counter, looking unimpressed when he saw Buggy. He looked the pirate up and down before rolling his eyes.

“What do you want now?” The teen asked, sounding bored.

“Benji.” You warned as you came from the backroom. You were trying to get him to be a little nicer to the clients. Your eyes lit up when you saw Buggy and you smiled; he straightened up and held his coat out.

“Sorry.” Benji grumbled. “How can I help you today, sir?”

“Better.” You took the coat from Buggy. “Mm, what’s wrong with it now, Buggy?”

“None of the threads holding the buttons match.” He told you as you hung it up. Benji made a face and went to look it over with you. The thread looked fine to him and he nudged you gently.

“I think he’s losing his eyesight.” He whispered as he glanced back at Buggy. “They look fine to me.”

You shook your head and chuckled. “No, no, he’s right. The shades are just different enough that it can be noticeable.” You turned back to Buggy. “Can I keep it for a few hours to work on it?”

“Only if I can take you out to dinner afterwards.” He said with a grin. You looked a little surprised by that but you smiled and nodded.

“After you pay for the services, of course.”

“I-I was going to pay!” He exclaimed, looking flustered now. “Why wouldn’t I pay?!”

“I’m teasing, of course you’ll pay.” You chuckled as you smoothed the front of the coat out. “I’ll have it ready for our date then.”

Ha! You called it a date. That was perfect. Buggy couldn’t help but feel smug as he winked at you and turned to leave the shop. He shut the door behind him, hoping you didn’t notice several of his fingers got caught in the door jamb and popped off, falling to the floor. He hastily opened the door and collected them before shutting it again. You and Benji watched the whole thing; Benji seemed a little horrified but you just shook your head.

“You’re going out with him?” Benji asked, sounding disgusted. “Why?!”

“I like him.” You told him as you went to go find some thread and a needle. “And he’s very sweet to me.”

“Lots of guys are sweet to you.” Benji pointed out as he returned to the counter. “I don’t get why you like it coming from him though.”

“He’s not like the others.” You shrugged as you set your tools down on the table and collected his jacket. “Now, I’m going to have you help with this, so you have to do it correctly, understand? You can’t mess it up on purpose because you don’t like Buggy.”

“Fine.” He grumbled as he went to help you.

~

Buggy arrived three hours later. He made sure to look his best. His face was clean, his hair was brushed, and he wore some of his best clothes to take you out. He had a bouquet of flowers for you and a basket in one hand. He felt a picnic dinner at the lake would be a good spot. He wouldn’t be an asshole this time, you could see the ducks, and he could tell you that he was in love with you and everything would be perfect. 

He entered the shop and saw Benji and Miss Pins first. They looked up at him; Benji rolled his eyes but Miss Pins looked quite amused to see him.

“So, another date?” She asked. Buggy glared at her as his face reddened.

“What if it is?” He shot back as he set the basket down. 

Miss Pins shrugged, a smirk on her face as looked him up and down. “And dressed up for it as well. You really like our Sunny, don’t you?”

“Listen, you-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence because you came down the stairs at that moment, catching his attention. He turned to look and his eyes widened. You had a new dress on, one he hadn’t seen before, a pretty light green color with cap sleeves. It fell at mid-calf, the skirt had a nice swoosh to it, and the neckline didn’t dip down too far. There was embroidery around the hem of the skirt, colorful flowers with twisty stems and leaves. Did you make this yourself?

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you went right past him to grab it from the back. He was just staring at you, speechless for a moment as his brain registered that you dressed nice for him. Benji waved his hand in front of Buggy’s face to get his attention while Miss Pins snapped her fingers. You came back out with it and took it off the hanger, holding it out for him. He let you put it on him, face burning bright red as you smoothed it over his shoulders. He turned around to face you and you tugged on one of the buttons. “All matching threads for you, Buggy.”

He said nothing as he slammed the payment onto the counter and then held the bouquet out to you. Words were escaping him right then because he didn’t know what to say to you. You took the bouquet from him and kissed his cheek before taking them to the backroom to find them a vase.

“Why isn’t he saying anything?” Benji whispered to Miss Pins. She shrugged.

“No clue.”

“S-Shut it, you two!” Buggy managed to hiss as he glared at them. “I’m fine!”

“Are you though?” Benji grinned. Before Buggy could respond you came back out, setting the vase on the table. He picked the basket up and held his hand out to you, which you took before he led you out of the shop and down the road. 

~

Buggy didn’t want to jinx it because so far everything was going perfectly. He had put a blanket down, pulled the food out (something he got from the little cafe you had your first date at), and he even had a bag of seed for you to throw to the ducks. He still didn’t quite get the enjoyment in that, but if it meant seeing how your eyes lit up and the little squeals of joy you emitted every time one quacked at you, then he would make sure to always bring you a giant bag of seeds for the ducks. 

It was perfect until clouds started to roll in. Buggy tried to ignore them, hoping they would just move along to somewhere else so the two of you could keep enjoying the nice weather. 

He cleared his throat and took your hand in his. “I… have something to say.”

“Okay.” You turned to look at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “What is it?”

There was a rumbling of thunder in the distance. No, no, it needed to wait until he could tell you. 

“Sunny, I’m in lo-”

The clouds opened up and the rain came down, catching the two of you by surprise. You gathered everything into the basket before grabbing his hand and dragging him over to a nearby structure to get out of the wet. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden downpour but Buggy didn’t find it funny.

“Why is it every time I try…” He grumbled as he crossed his arms, glaring outwards. You didn’t hear him as you walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to look at you, still glaring, but you weren’t bothered by it.

“What were you about to say to me before the downpour?” You asked. 

He hesitated. If he said anything else something could happen, like a flash flood or the structure collapsing. And if he said it, how would you react to it? He was in love with you but what if you weren’t in love with him? What if you just laughed at him, patted him on the cheek and sent him on his way? He was starting to wonder if you were just tolerating him at this point.

“I didn’t…” He hesitated, maybe this was a bad idea.

You frowned as you pulled him into a hug. He allowed this, letting his head rest on your shoulder as you pressed a kiss to his temple. This is what he wanted. He just wanted to be in your arms forever and if he wanted that he needed to tell you how he felt before someone else came along and you decided they were better for you. 

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Buggy finally spoke. 

“I’m in love with you.” He mumbled against your shoulder. You didn’t quite catch that and pulled back from him. 

“Can you repeat that?” You asked kindly. “I didn’t understand.”

He lifted his head off your shoulder and quickly said, “Iminlovewithyou.”

“I… didn’t understand that, Buggy.” You told him, smiling as you shook your head. “Can you say it again?”

He hated that he was hesitant. This was supposed to be some grand proclamation he was about to make, but given his track record of trying to do anything for you, he was convinced something horrible was about to happen. Lightning could strike him before he could speak, or that stupid handsome swordsman would appear and take you away, or what if the ducks suddenly attacked him? 

You touched his cheek, snapping him back to his senses. “Buggy?”

It had to be now or never, ducks be damned. 

He took both of your hands in his and took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

There, he said it. 

Lightning didn’t strike either of you. No one else showed up to take you away from him. And he glanced over your shoulder to see the ducks still in the lake, not charging toward him in an angry horde. You, however, were quiet. That was starting to worry him, but he had to deal with this. You probably didn’t feel the same way. It was stupid of him to even think you would. He let go of your hands, trying to think of a joke to get him out of this now because why would you ever want someone like him? He just needed to tell you he was kidding, that it wasn’t true, just wanted to see what you’d do, but before he could do anything, you grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him close, leaning up to kiss him.

He stiffened, not expecting that reaction. He expected you to push him away, telling him to stop making jokes, that you didn’t feel the same way. Those scenarios played through in his head as you kissed him, not letting him leave yet. Were you waiting to tell him to leave you alone, that you didn’t want to see him ever again after this?

When you finally pulled back from the kiss, you still held onto the front of his coat, not letting him bolt. Your cheeks were pink, you were smiling up at him, and he didn’t know what to make of the twinkle in your eye. He was just waiting for the inevitable.

“I like you a lot, Buggy.” You told him. “And I’m starting to fall in love with you.” There was a crack of thunder nearby and you laughed. “Let’s go back to the shop before we get washed away. I’ll make you a hot drink.”

He nodded fast, head almost dislodging from his body at the speed of the movement. You were starting to fall in love, that meant you were going to eventually. That was better than what he was anticipating happening.

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 4

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see  him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something  more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“So….” Was the melodic tone of his voice when he was joking grating or was it just the fact that Leo had insufferably been avoiding said topic of your meeting with Donnie while heavily implying he was going to ask about it at any given moment. Either way, after the first 7 fake-outs, you were no longer holding your breath.

“Mhm?” The response was automatic at this point. Using his tiny plate as a useless middleman, you watched as 5 tiny sandwich triangles disappeared into Leo’s mouth.

“I sort of liked the huge piece that takes up a whole section over on the left.” He pointed towards the said piece and the two of your wound around the packed gallery to get closer to it.

“Is it because it’s blue?” It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying the event or even his company, but you wished he would just rip the bandage off already.

He looked at your with genuine offense. “I will not be reduced to a  mere shade. I can’t believe you would think moi to be so one-note.” He placed a dramatic hand to his chest which absolutely did not help his point. When you’d first arrived at the venue, he gushed over the same brand new trademark blue crushed velvet dinner jacket he now happened to be emphasizing. One of his eyes popped open to find you unamused by the layers of nonsense he was spouting so he straightened up as if properly inspecting the art. “I was going to say I like how you can’t see the brush strokes from far away, but you can up close.”

For the first time that whole evening, he’d had an actual astute observation. The change of pace was like a breath of fresh air. This particular topic was also something you’d heard your friend mention. “I think it has something to do with relationship between color and form.” You turned to look up at the piece. The muddled shades of blue reminded you of the good parts of the evening thus far. It felt like the two of you had successfully conned your way into what was very much a public event. You'd both snatched away a good portion of the free food and no one seemed to think you were freeloaders because of Leo’s outrageous ability to fit in amongst the art crowd by just saying the most the most ridiculous things you had ever heard. Different factions of critics ate up his nonsense and you were only alerted to the deception because every time it worked out, Leo would shoot you an obnoxious wink.

“’Color and texture are ends in themselves.’”

That one sounded like a quote, but you weren’t sure. Maybe he wasn’t all mouth and had been picking up on the cacophony of conversations that drifted amongst the high ceilings. You took a sip of a sparkling cider that you had been nursing since eating a few too many deli meats. “So what kind of feeling do you get from it?” You tilted your head to one side wondering yourself. Blue was usually synonymous with sadness, but that didn’t seem right.

“Curiosity over what happened when you kept my darling brother out for several hours last week.”

You sputtered into another sip and tried not to let your choking fit disturb the other patrons. Leo patted you on the back and after you were able to force oxygen into your lungs once again, you looked up to find him gazing down at you with an self-satisfied grin spread wickedly across his face.  You wanted nothing more than to smack it right off. He'd dangled the bait in front of you all evening and you'd been able to resist. You were so mad at yourself there was little room to be mad at him. Further frustrated by your brain's lack of response, you did the next most petty thing and walked away. You dress shoes pinched your feet from their otherwise disuse.

“Aw, Y/N, come on!” He called after you and you stubbornly inserted yourself amongst a crowd of people surrounding a oozing statue of liberty sculpture. You could feel Leo catch-up, but your humility had yet to do the same. “Don’t be like that. You knew it was coming! It can be difficulty when you’re going up against a number 1 player like myself, but I’m sure by tomorrow you will deeply appreciate how hilarious that was.”

A warped reflection of the blue trickster shrugged in your glass. “But right now…?”

“You are mad, yes I got that.” The crowd dispersed to the next piece and Leo stepped up beside you.

“I thought you made the boundary lines pretty clear about Donnie the last time we talked.” You cradled the glass across your chest to telegraph that you were still closed off.

“Donnie, hm?” You weren’t looking at him, but you could just tell his eye brows were waggling.

You were just annoyed enough that you were able to mentally stomp out any flames of blush that the comment may have otherwise sparked. You had been able to strike up a few, albeit short, text conversation with Donnie since your bao meeting. The purple-themed man had even gone so far as to text you that same night about his family’s response to the food. Needless to say you lost more than a few hours of sleep just trying to get your heart to stop beating uncontrollably out of your chest.

Even though you were now only silent out of contemplation, Leo still took it as a cue to drop that particular part of the subject and return to the matter as a whole. “Fine, D is his own person! Yes, you got me! I said that, but that doesn’t mean I’m not super curious about the little impromptu date you went on!”

“It wasn’t-!”

He held up a hand to stop you. “Phrasing, don’t get to tied up in it.” He waved the hand off as if the stop signal he’d given was too serious. “I’m not saying he’s as pure as freshly fallen snow, but people don’t catch his fancy as much as things and nerd stuff do.” Leo shrugged his shoulders as if it was a silly uncontrollable fact of the universe. “So what if we don’t focus on him or the content, but maybe what you did?”

“I didn’t do anything…” You finally offered him a side glance out of how absurd the question was. He was acting like you had duped his brother somehow.

“Come on!” You hadn’t realized you were wearing Leo’s nerves thin until he actively starting to unravel. His knees buckled and his shoulders slumped down until his hands almost touched the floor. “You have to give me something. I thought you were just going to ask for his number!?”

His youthful dramatics were cute so far as it brought out the kid side of him that was far more manageable. “I asked him to go eat first is all.”

“Donnie isn’t really the one of us you can bait with food…” Still crumpled over, Leo narrowed his eyes at you.

“I don’t know what else to tell you.” It was your turn to mimic his earlier cosmically unhelpful shrug. “It’s the truth.”

Leo was uncharacteristically quiet for awhile. You lowered your drink barrier and turned to look at him. He was staring at some black and white photographs. His brow had the slightest crease in it. Just as you were about to ask, you saw his lips part instead.

“So crush, infatuation, or something else?” He was slow to turn to you for your response.

The significance of the question created a mental blowback so strong your whole frame shifted. He turned to stare and his gaze was so intense that you dropped yours to the floor. Your dress shoes shone back at you. You knocked them together at the toes ever so slightly.

“I’m still not sure.”

“Take you time…” You could hear a movement of Leo’s jacket as he presumably turned away from you. “But don’t take too long. Donnie is smart, but he’s also just as dumb as the rest of us in a lot of ways. Don’t even think about hurting him.”

“I would never!” Your gaze snapped up to meet Leo’s back. “Not intentionally… at least…”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

Your hands fisted at your sides, but Leo did his characteristic mental 180 and bounded back into his bubbly self as a carter came out with a new tray of canapés.

-

Stumbling out onto the street, the darkened sky disoriented you. Hadn’t the clock rolled over to morning. You took a few weary steps before leaning against a wrought iron fence. You used the brick they were built off of to sit your backpack down. It took some fishing, but you unearthed your phone from between your textbooks and notepads to find the time around 5am; just long enough from sunrise where the sky hadn’t reflected the oncoming dawn. Both yours and your phone’s batteries where lethally low. You sighed and packed your things back up, wrapping your coat tightly around you. Your late night cram session turned video game night had run so far over that you had no hope of getting back to your apartment for any sleep before you’d need to be on your way to your morning class. You made it several steps down the sidewalk as the loaming burden of today’s test seemed as dark as the ocean above. You needed to reorient.

The street was empty so you led a leisurely pace and closed your eyes to check your most pressing needs based on importance. The omnipresent sleep was out of the questions so you shoved that top notification to the side. In its place a new item appeared in the form of caffeine. Opening your eyes and seeing you’d made it a good way down the road without running into anything meant your luck was faring well. An energy drink this early was not something your stomach would tolerate so that meant sustenance was on the menu also. At this hour and on your current budget, you could hit a cheap coffee shop. Some of your facilities returned to you as a streetlight glowed overhead. It would also be a great place to charge your phone. Walking with more purpose now that you had a plan, the next hurdle appeared instantly: without your phone you couldn’t look up the closest or cheapest shop.

You paused, doing a minor heel turn to look up and down the street. This wasn’t an area you were really familiar with. The study group had been hosted by a classmate you’d only met this semester. After brains were thoroughly stuffed with knowledge, the video games had come out. The others, weaker to sleep, had filed out on by one until only you and the host were left. They’d ushered you out, bleary eyed, and were presumably already unconscious which meant so going back for directions was out of the question. Another breathy sigh and you resumed your trudging. You’d have to find somewhere the old fashioned way. You let instinct lead you, turning corners whenever you felt like it. On one particular street, there seemed to be a two or three people mingling down the block. You carved your path outward toward the street and saw there was some sort of break between building rows. It was the most promising lead you’d had so far. If nothing else, you could try to ask the people for directions.

Reaching the break you slowed as everything took on a dream-like quality. Lights were strung all around a plaza bathing it in a golden hue. Cute café table sets were tucked into one side and two open mini food trucks were operating out of the opposite end. The brick inlay of the space shifted outwards from a center point into a mesmerizing swirled pattern.  You stepped along a row watching the way your shoes followed the lines. It brought a smile to your face which was made all the brighter when you realized one of the trucks was serving coffees, teas, and pastries. You resisted the urge to run, but only succeeding in instead speed walking your way over.

There was a man hunched over with his back turned to you in the truck. It gave you time to nervously check their hand drawn chalkboard. You were pleasantly surprised to find the prices were reasonable the limited menu seemed tasty.

“Can I help you?”

You turned to him and started off your order with a warm drink. He commiserated on the ever approaching winter. When you ordered your pastry next he offered to warm it up and that could not have sounded any better. You thanked him and paid before remembering something else needed a pick-me-up also.

“This probably sounds ridiculous because we’re literally outside, but do you have a place where I could charge my phone?”

The man chuckled between grinding coffee beans. “You’d think we wouldn’t, but we actually have one outdoor outlet.” He wiped his hands on a cloth before pointing to the café tables. “Though it looks like someone’s using it so you’ll have to share.”

Following his finger and throwing a gratitude over your shoulder, you felt time slow. The only person in the seating area looked ethereal under the twinkling lights. His head was tipped down, but his purple hoodie was unmistakable. One of your hands moved up to your face and you pinched your cheek hard, wincing at the sharp sting. You couldn’t believe it was real. You crossed the bricked space and approached Donatello.

“Mind if I use the charger too?” It felt like an out of body experience.

“Knock yourself out, I’m only using one plug.”

He hadn’t noticed yet, that was somehow even better. You slowly set your bag on the table to fish out both your phone and charger. It took a little longer than it should have because your eyes were glued to him. He was hunched over and oddly enough, not on his phone for once. He was a bit too shaded to see, but it almost seemed like he his eyes were closed. Leaning over the table to where the socket was, you plugged your phone in.

“Wait… Y/N?” You wondered what had finally tipped him off.

“Hey, Donnie.” You smiled at him, straightening up.

“This is…” He straightened his posture and looked at you with a cocked neck. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t.” You smiled, zipping your bag up.

“I need to work out the exact calculations, but I can assure you that the odds of us running into each other outside of our respective neighborhoods in a city with a population of a little over 9 million is extremely high. There must be some kind of outside interference.” He tugged on the edges of his hoodie to cover the exposed parts of his legs.

“Trust me, I thought I dreamed you for a second.” You shook your head and took your bag from off the table.

“Does that mean you dream of me often? Your psyche better be doing me justice.” His monotone delivery didn’t read flirt, but the contents of the sentence had you swooning.

“Hm, maybe someday you can read my dream journal.” You muttered, looking back to the coffee stand.

“Ah, so you also keep a log of your dreams? There’s no exact science to it yet, but I feel as though sometime in the near future we can learn a great deal about how long-term memory is utilized in the dreamscape.” He held out a hand of glory. “Someday the future generation will look back on the data of Donatello Hamato as the greatest scholar of his time. Also, I will definitely be remembered for the presumable number of Nobel prizes I’ve been awarded.” Creating an L-shape between his thumb and first finger, he brought it to his chin as he devilishly imagined his illustrious future.

You had meant the journal bit as a joke, but you adored that he took it seriously. It didn’t keep you from being sarcastic about the rest. “Speaking of dreams…”

“I consider myself a scientist foremost and a realist after that. I've simply stated a given!”

“Ah to be young!” You crooned, shouldering you bag like it was far too heavy.

“Another unknown, I might be older than you.” He pointed out both literally and figuratively. You both shared your respective birthdays and he cackled. “I’ve got you beat!”

“Fine, but only someone with youth on their side would be out dressed like that in this weather.” You pointed down to the green branching out from between purple coverage.

The look on his face soured instantly and you debated retracting your statement. Instead he clicked his tongue and gestured for you to take a seat. You took the one across from him and could feel some sort of story coming on. “So the lair lost power and I was given not a second of peace while I alone was tasked with the repair. Unable to take the constant barrage of 'when will it be done, Donnie?' and 'what happened to the backup generator, Donnie?' nonsense any longer, I told them I needed some air. I was just going to take a walk and start anew, preferably with some music to drown them out, but my precious phone was about to die.” He groaned and wiped a hand down his face. He then reached for a drink cup that had been otherwise left forgotten. The moment he lifted it a pathetic whine struggled it's way up his throat. In an act of pure frustration, he crushed the apparently empty cup in hand. “Great! Just great!!”

“Order up!”

You gripped the table, torn between getting your much needed drink and leaving an obviously distraught Donnie behind.

“Just-" He didn’t have the energy for further words and waved you off.

“I’ll be right back!” You pressed before heading over to pick up your breakfast. Your backpack thumped against your back as you gave a meager jog to the counter. You slowed on approach, passing the chalkboard sign which gave you an idea. “Uh, can I do a last minute addition?”

“Sure! What’ll it be?” The man anchored an arm to the counter, ready. You leaned in as if it were a secret and placed the order with a hushed tone. Thankfully the barista was game and leaned into the demonstration himself. When you were done, he glanced across the plaza and pointed at Donatello. “For him?”

“Yes.” You bobbed your head.

A laugh bubbled up in the man, but he seemed to remember the classified nature of the order and cleared his throat. “That’s perfect. I love it.” You paid and he gave you a beaming smile. “Wait right there and I’ll whip it right up.”

You did as you were told with only a few nervous glances back at Donnie. The man was in a purple heap and thankfully didn’t seem to be going anywhere. You were glad you’d forgotten to take your backpack off when you had sat down.

“Here we go!” Instead of the to-go cup that both your drink and Donnie’s previous had been in, the man handed you a tall glass with a matching stirring spoon. You gawked at it in amazement. “Hurry and get it over to him before it mixes. Oh, and I’m sure you will, but be careful with the glass. We’re not actually supposed to give those out to the customers, but I figured this was a special occasion.” He punctuated his sentence with a wink and you felt almost weepy at the kindness this man bestowed upon you.

Juggling your order and the delicate cup, you brought it back over to the table. Donnie’s head was down and folded into his arms. Ypu struggled with a tinge of guilt over the fact that you were grateful for it. Hoping the reveal would at least make up for it, you steeled yourself. “Donnie…” You urged, carefully setting the glass down in front of him.

“Hrm?” He grumbled from underneath his layers. “It’s best if you just leave me. I might as well try again tomorrow.”

“Then I have bad news for you about the time.” You couldn’t keep the airy tone out of your voice. His dramatizations were too much.

“Don’t tell me it’s sunrise already!?” He raised his head and froze. His eyes widened at the concoction in front of him. In the glass was a steaming, cascading mix of rich golden coffee and purple cream. “What…?”

“It’s an ube latte.” You smiled and carefully took a seat. Setting your bag aside, you palmed your cup to warm your hands and watched as Donnie uncurled out of his ball. He gave the drink a stir with stick and you took your first delicious sip of your caffeinated beverage.

“It is my color…” He remarked with a sense of fondness. You nodded and resisted the urge to scarf down your whole pastry. The mix of food, drink, and Donnie’s rising spirits warmed your body.

He grasped the glass and took a sip. “Hmmm.” He then acted as if he were a sommelier, twirling the liquid and sniffing it between small tastings. “It’s a bit sweet for my tastes, but the nuttiness pairs really well with the espresso.”

“As long as you don’t hate it, that’s a win for me!” You nodded, just finishing off the last flaky bite.

“It’s not your responsibility to cheer me up.” Cradling the cup in a similar way for warmth, he continued to sip the beverage.

“Is that what I did? I was just thinking purple goes with purple.” You gave him a catlike grin and took a long luxurious swig of your ever emptying drink.

“I would like to reinstate the line of questioning about this being a set-up.” He pointed at you and there was an air of playfulness to the otherwise staunch delivery that was not lost on you.

“Damn, I knew the barista wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut.” You snapped your finger in frustration and both of you chuckled.

Several moments of silence passed before Donnie gave a long winded sigh. “I believe I left off when I was about to lose my phone?” His brows hung heavy with effort.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head. “I like to finish what I start.” He leaned back in his chair and took the latte with him. “So I change course for the nearest cafe and catch a glimpse of orange which means I was definitely followed!”

In rapt attention it occurred to you that must mean his other siblings were also color coded. It seemed like it should be obvious seeing as how the only one you knew was too, but it somehow wasn’t.

“I catch up to Mikey and he says he was just worried about me, but he’s a terrible liar.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “His phone goes off and after a short grapple for the device, I find that the others are using him as a gauge to see when I had ‘calmed down’ and to give an ‘eta when the power would be back on.’” You were impressed that he was able to inject so much anger into air quotes. “Like that’s all I’m good for! They act like my emotions are just a hindrance when they pop up because I usually don’t have them!”    

Your eyes widened. That was a particularly loaded sentence. You wanted to interject to reassure him that it had never crossed your mind that he didn’t have emotions, but interrupting him didn’t seem right either.

“Cue a long winded chase where Raph and Leo came topside in pursuit and…” Donnie rolled a wrist in demonstration before flattening out for the finale. “Needless to say I lost them since it’s been… Oh.” He smacked the hand to his forehead. “I had asked about the time?”

Waking your phone up, your read off the number. “It’s almost 6am.”

“I lost them about two and a half hours ago, so I would rate it as a pretty successful escape.” He took a long swig of his drink, almost finishing it off. “Since I ran out, I didn’t have time to throw on pants as I would have if I had known I was going to be stuck out in the cold for so long.” The weight of the story lightened into his characteristic dry tone.

Finishing off your drink, you ruminated over the tale as Donnie continued to recuperate. The words ‘lair’ and ‘topside’ were jumping out to you as particularly strange. Were they a family of super villains? They didn’t seem like it, but it was such a strange word choice. You really wished you knew what they did for a living. As you came out of your thoughts, you watched Donnie chug the rest of his latte and give a long breathy exhale that seemed to blow out his concerns.

“I did not yet thank you for this.” He set the glass down with the stirrer tinkling from the movement. “Still too sweet overall, but I suppose one could say it was ‘just what I needed.’” He put on a different voice for the quote and you wondered who he was mimicking. “Though to be more accurate there were many factors that improved my current mood.” He paused, his lip pursed before eyeing you. “If you did track me, you picked a very good time to reveal your location. To reiterate: thank you.”

Oh how you wished you had any liquid left in your cup to justify hiding behind it. “Any time!” You were torn between upholding the gesture and playing your skipping heart beat off with a joke. “My sensors are specifically tuned for when Donnie is in distress.” Your mouth jumped ahead of both your brain and heart. You wanted to bang your head against the table.

Donnie, on the other hand, smiled softly. “That might be something I should consider adding to my repertoire.” He tapped his device and made a quick note with nimble fingers especially considering how many he had.

“Are you saying you track your brothers?” You wondered through a laugh. This meeting might have charged you up just as much as your breakfast had.

“Nooo…” He drew out the word and looked left to right with narrowed suspicion. "I definitely do no such thing."

That was not convincing in the slightest, but also seemed to absurd to be a real thing. It wouldn't keep you from teasing him for it though. “And you said Mikey…?” You really hoped you had gotten that name right. “Was the a bad liar?”  

“Yes, Mikey, but otherwise, I don’t care to know what you mean!” He retorted, folding his arms. Pale hues started to color the sky. You saw them as you craned back, enjoying the moment.

“I have a mid-term in just over an hour.” You told the single streaked cloud above.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Donnie banged the table with a sudden jolt and the glass cup tipped violently. Slow motion horror spread across your face as your brought uour gaze back down only to see the cup suddenly right itself before your eyes.

“Wh-“ You muttered in disbelief, raising a hand to feebly point at the action.

“No!” He ordered, pointing his own finger in a more accusatory manner. “We’ve been focused on me this whole time when I should have been questioning you! Why are you up so early? You look like you haven’t slept at all! You’re going to take a test in this state? Where’s your academic honor!? Did you even study?!”  

You stared back at him weakly. The ever growing light overhead was certainly not helping the bags under your eyes, but all you could think about was how much he must value education. That and he apparently had the reflexes of a ninja.

“If you aren’t going to answer me then get up. Up!” He flung his arms in time with the command, picking up his glass and standing himself.

You scrambled to follow suit while gathering your trash. “In my defense, I was up all night studying.” You would just leave out the gaming part out for the time being. It was something you could consider texting him as a fun teasing surprise after your class.

“An all-nighter?” He seemed utterly revolted as he strode over to the drink truck where a line was starting to form.

After watching him deposit the glass, you pouted and turned your head away as he approached. “I’m hearing a lot of lecture from the guy who is also awake… What did you say you were doing? Electrician work?”

His inhale was so sharp he almost whistled. “How dare you!? Tradespersons have honorable professions, but my arsenal includes so much more that comparing what I do to a single line of work is utterly disgraceful!” You walked out of the plaza together, but the indignity was too much for him. He rounded you and pressed a finger right to your forehead. “Apologize to me while I’ll still accept it!”

The best you could do was crinkle your overjoyed smile.

“And stop smiling! Why are you even smiling?!”

If only he knew how lucky you counted yourself.

💜 NEXT 💜

[vshthestmpede]

Dearly want Vash to have a little patch of red geraniums to sew on to his jacket, as a memento of Rem. And/or jewelry of red geraniums. Just something nice that'll last a long time.

closest to his heart - vash (platonic or romantic)

word count; 664

warnings; mentions of death

note; honestly this was so fun to write, such a nice little thought to have a significant remembrance of rem. thank you so much for requesting, i truly appreciate it!! <3

cross-posted to ao3

you had stumbled upon vash's little treasure when you had decided to take on laundry duty. you had saved his iconic red jacket for last, the specific garment always being an item of your curiosity - how it lasted this many fights, how it remained in such good condition.

well, upon closer inspection, you saw that it had plenty signs of wear and tear. a few patches of a different shade here and there caught your eye but what really stood out was the bright red patch of flora sewed somewhat decently on the inside of the jacket.

you sat cross-legged on the floor of the motel laundry room, the jacket splayed across your lap as your fingers gently ran over the edges of the patch. you pictured the jacket on vash and noted that this patch landed just over his heart when he wore it. you smiled to yourself as your mind began to wander, pondering the significance of the flora and what exactly they meant to vash.

"(name)? oh! you're doing laundry on the floor?"

you flinched, looking over your shoulder sheepishly to find vash in the doorway, clad in a ragged white tee and some pajama pants. he noticed the patch in your hands and smiled softly, coming in and taking a seat next to you.

"i was coming to see if you wanted some help," he explained, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands. "you like the geraniums?"

you looked back down at your hands, brushing a thumb over the flora and nodded.

"they're very pretty," you replied. "what made you sew them in there?"

vash reached over and gingerly prodded at the odd stitching. "ah, so you could tell i tried to sew it myself. did a pretty mediocre job, if i do say so m'self. the reason, though, is that they remind me of. . .of rem."

you watched as he choked on his words, then took a deep breath. you put your hand over his and gave it a small, comforting squeeze, to which he gave you a small smile and continued on, his gaze settling on the ceiling above.

"rem was the woman who sacrificed herself to save humanity years and years ago. she was like a mother to me. someone who loved both nai and myself to no end. she was a beautiful person, inside and out. rem would have loved you, (name), if the two of you would have met. sometimes, you remind me of her. the way you both are so selfless, so caring, it's uncanny. rem loved red geraniums, they were her favorite in the whole galaxy, so carrying that patch is me carrying rem close to my heart wherever i may go."

when his story was met with soft sniffles, vash turned to look at you and was met with tear-filled eyes as you clutched his jacket to your chest.

"(n-name), don't cry!" even as he wiped your tears away, he couldn't help but laugh as you blubbered and wiped furiously at your eyes. "c'mon, let's get the rest of this laundry done. no more tears."

the two of you finished up and set off to your respective rooms to rest for the night only for something in the back of your mind keeping you from resting.

the next morning, vash woke to find his red jacket folded neatly on the beside table with a small piece of parchment on top of it.

thank you for telling me your story. i hope you don't mind that i fixed the stitching. i hope you know that rem would be so proud of you and how far you've come, vash.

(name)

vash smiled softly, folding the parchment up and sticking it inside the breast pocket of his jacket. he pulled the jacket into his lap and opened it up, admiring how neatly the geraniums were sewed. he ran his fingers over the stitches, his mind starting to find ways to thank you.

[t-0ne25]

“Maybe you can show me how to love.” — Option A1: Rose Quartz

[Make sure to please read Chapter 25 of Red Lights first, before you continue.]

“I choose the rose quartz,” you say to Soyeon. She tells you to open the box and you get the necklace out. The director steps behind you and helps you put on the jewellery. After that, she hands you a pastel pink dress, the one you tried on yesterday. Slipping into it, you’re ready to meet the winner.

Soyeon guides you back into the ballroom, where you find your childhood friend.

“Am I– did you choose me?” Seungmin asks, his eyes widening. He can’t believe what’s happening right now, but when you step closer, your arms seizing around his neck, he knows that all he’s ever dreamt of suddenly turns into reality.

“It’s always been you, Minnie. You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

He smiles, before sealing your lips with his own, catching them in a passionate kiss. You allow the moment to take over you, holding him as close as possible. Once he disconnects his mouth from yours again, he takes a step back and reaches for your hand.

“Are you ready for the rest of the night?”

A few minutes later, you find yourself in what you assume to be the romantic suite of the mansion, no cameras or microphones anywhere. God, this building seems to be endlessly huge. You’re still wearing the dress when you step inside, finding a bedroom in the same shade—rose coloured just like the gemstone around your neck.

“I still can’t believe it…” you hear Seungmin say. Once you turn around, you can see that his palms are attached to his head, his eyes are burning with tears.

“Hey, don’t cry,” you tell him, when you get closer. You place a soft kiss on his cheek and all he does is nod, trying to calm down.

“I’m just… fuck, I didn’t think it would be me in the end you know?”

Unsure what to reply, you decide to crash your lips into his. Seungmin immediately gives in, letting you take the upper hand in this for once. He loves how eager you are for him. Fuck, you’re so different compared to when he kissed you for the first time. But he loves every version of you, nonetheless.

The two of you start stumbling towards the bed, not caring that you didn’t even take some time to admire the beautiful room you’ve got assigned to. You need his hands roaming over your body, need him as close as two human beings can be. Your mind is occupied by two syllables only—Seungmin.

You’re guiding him on the mattress, before you get on top of him, straddling his thighs. He looks so pretty underneath you, it’s insane. You feel your head get dizzy, when Seungmin stares up at you, licking his lips in anticipation.

Diving right in for yet another kiss, you start grinding over his crotch. It’s just kissing but Seungmin can already feel his cock stiffening inside his suit trousers. But you don’t stop—you keep going like that, until the first little moan escapes your mouth.

“Shit, you sound so cute,” he giggles and you join him. 

You continue, placing your lips on his neck now. The pattern you create is stunning, just like the man underneath you. Seungmin lets out a grunt, when the bites and kisses increase in quantity. His hands are attached on your hips, helping you with your movements.

Fuck. You both need more and you need it now. When you bring your gaze back to Seungmin’s face, his expression tells you exactly the same.

“You look beautiful in this colour, honey, but I need this dress off, okay?” he says, brushing over the fabric of your rose coloured outfit.

You chuckle, before you nod and the two of you hover the material over your head. Seungmin breathes a small ‘wow’, when he sees you in your lingerie. The red two piece looks stunning on your body.

It doesn’t take him long to take off his suit jacket, while you’re already busy opening each button of his shirt. He takes the fabric off, too, before he initiates yet another makeout session. Seungmin is busy getting rid of your bra, cupping your breasts once they are freed. God. You can’t help but let out another moan.

“Please, Minnie… touch me,” you beg, when you keep grinding over his crotch.

“Keep calling me by that name, baby.”

Without a warning, he flips you over, having you right underneath him. A beautiful path of kisses gets drawn on your skin—he hovers over your neck, your collarbones, your tits, your stomach, until he stops. Seungmin’s hand is brushing over your covered mound, making you spread your legs for him.

“Minnie, Minnie, Minnie, please–“

Apparently, you follow his order, which is why he painfully slowly slides down the drenched fabric, leaving you completely naked for him.

“Okay, okay, darling. I’m gonna give you what you need,” he whispers against your heat.

Two of his fingers part your pussy lips, before his tongue dives right in, circling around your sensitive nub. You’re brought back to the first time he went down on you—still so inexperienced, you let him have his way with you and you know that there’s no one else who would have been able to grant you an amazing first time like the one you had thanks to your childhood friend.

Seungmin’s fingers are busy teasing your entrance, before he pushes one of them inside. You clench around him, letting out a small whimper, when your gaze finds his.

He looks at you with lust swirling inside his beautiful eyes, when he whispers, “You can be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You hastily nod and when Seungmin slides the second finger in, your head gets thrown back. He makes sure to keep his tongue attached to your clit when thrusting into your wet hole with his digits. God, the squelching sounds of your aching cunt are already filling the room and he is nowhere near done with you.

“I’m gonna turn you into a mess, baby. Only for me, hm?” he teases you, letting your walls clench around his digits.

“F-For you, yeah…” is all you say, before you already come undone, unable to hold back the hypnotising sensation that is taking over your whole body.

“Fuck, this was great,” you let out, once his fingers come to a halt. Seungmin pulls them out, making sure you watch every second of him licking them clean. He hums, when he tastes your scents on his skin, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

“You ready to go further, honey?”

You hastily nod, watching him reach for the nightstand table, grabbing out a condom.

“Minnie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He turns around to catch a glimpse of you. For a second, he fears that he went too fast or too far. But you’re biting your lip, looking up at him with doll-like eyes, begging for something in specific.

“Uhm, I know that we all got tested before the show… so I am fine without one, I’m on the pill,” you say with a quiet voice, unsure if he might decline it.

“Nothing as perfect as this, darling,” Seungmin says with a smirk, before he places another heated kiss on your lips. God, this is like a dream come true. He’s about to feel you raw, feel the truest form of yourself. Seungmin has waited years for this moment, it almost feels unreal.

You spread your thighs for him, playing a little with your clit, when he takes his time to pull down his pants and underwear in one go. His hard cock springs free, before he positions himself right between your legs. Seungmin gives his length a few strokes, getting closer to your entrance. He pushes the first few centimetres in, allowing you to get used to the feeling.

But all you do is let out a mischievous chuckle, before you tease, “Come on, Minnie. Make me feel good.”

You’re a menace. You’re nothing like the innocent angel you used to be when he first fucked you. But this doesn’t matter to him because, after all, he was the one to ruin you first.

“Nothing I’d rather do than making you feel good, honey,” Seungmin grunts, while he starts with a steady pace. You look beautiful like this—underneath him, looking up at him, begging for more.

He knows that neither of you will last long but he doesn’t care about that at all. You’ve got the whole night to go again and again. By now, you’re a total moaning mess for him. Especially, after Seungmin has placed your legs over his shoulders, in order to pound even deeper into you.

Bringing two fingers to where your bodies meet, he starts rubbing your clit, picking up his pace. You grab his face, guiding his mouth onto your own. You’re both panting, moaning each other’s names and a few curse words, as if it’s all you’ve ever known.

“Cum for me, darling, hm?” Seungmin tells you, when he feels you clenching around his length.

“Yes– fuck, right there, Minnie– please,” are the last syllables that make it past your lips before you reach that sweet relief for yet another time.

Seungmin seals your lips with a kiss once again, before he pulls his cock out of you, feeling himself getting closer. A few last strokes until he’s shooting his seeds all over your belly and pussy, admiring the artwork a little later.

You stay like this for a little, before you feel his lips on your forehead. Seungmin gets up, bringing a wet towel to clean you, before he tells you to use the bathroom. When you get back, he’s already prepared your pyjamas for you and you put the fabric on.

It doesn’t take you long to slip underneath the blanket with him and the two of you start cuddling.

“You were my first and you’re gonna be my last, Minnie,” you tell him.

He gives you the softest smile, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Seungmin.”

⬅️ GO BACK TO LEAVE FEEDBACK

© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

[bimobuddy]

Opposites

Decided to write a short little thing

Sfw tickling

FOP:ANW

Also I'm imagining them as human sized

Lee!Irep, Ler!Peri (little bit of a switch near the end for both of them)

"Get back here!"

"Stay away from me!"

Peri had been chasing after his counterpart for close to ten minutes now. The Dimmadome house was empty with Dale being away on a trip and Dev spending the day with Hazel, giving these two all the space in the world to fly and chase after each other.

Especially since Earth was safe for both of them. Irep couldn't enter Fairy-World, and Peri wouldn't last a day in Anti-Fairy-World.

Irep had been doing everything in his power to make this relaxing day hell for Peri; using magic to bring furniture to life, turning into a snake to coil around him tightly, and worst of all, speaking in brainrot. Safe to say the fairy eventually snapped.

Peri locked onto his target and gave his large butterfly wings extra power in their flapping, catching up and tackling Irep out of the air, who landed with a loud, "OOF!"

The anti turned his head and glared. "You could have broken my wing!"

"But I didn't." Peri smirked, immediately shoving his hands under Irep's leather jacket to scribble at his sides, resulting in the other to slam his arms down and go silent, holding back light giggles.

Oh yeah, opposite self, opposite spots.

He reached back and started to squeeze the back of Irep's knee, causing him to kick his legs frantically and burst out into panicked giggles, immediately trying to crawl away.

"Yeah, I figured it out: opposites. You're done for." Peri teased. "Actually, now that I think about it, I'm not super ticklish... here~" gentle fingers dug into his lower back and suddenly Irep was spazzing like he was being tazed.

"HAHAHAHA ST-" he cut himself off and tried to kick Peri away instead. So the fairy just sat on the backs of his legs to avoid getting kicked.

"Oh and you know what else I realized, buddy?" Peri teased, reaching up to lightly brush his fingers over his counterpart's pointed ears, earning a scrunch of the shoulders and uncharacteristically bubbly giggles. "Is that I don't care much for being on the receiving end. So that must mean~" "Noho-" "You love it don't you?" "NO!"

The anti-fairy's ears and neck turned a darker shade of blue as he doubled his efforts in 'fighting back,' to try and prove a point.

"Is that why you've been bothering me all day?" Peri asked, slipping his fingers under Irep's chin and getting a scrunched nose, fangs, and bright giggles in return.

Irep snapped at Peri's fingers like he was going to bite them, causing the latter to yank his hand back with a yelp. Now Irep was giggling for a different reason.

Peri narrowed his eyes at the jerk. "Alright then, have it your way. I know exactly where to strike now, since I'm not ticklish there at all."

Before the anti could even react or protest, Peri had unbent and opened his large, leathery bat-like wing and started to softly scritch his fingers into the joints and the delicate webbing between the bones.

Overwhelmed in the best way, Irep couldn't even close his wing, it just tensed up and stayed open while he kicked his legs furiously against the ground and buried his face into the floor, laughing and wheezing up a storm, so much so that even Peri started to laugh.

"Yohou- You sohound like a kettle-" he chuckled, gently pinching the base of his wing, getting the most feral of giggles out of him.

Irep's laughter was wheezy, harsh, and chaotic, but not necessarily unpleasant. Peri didn't mind it.

Though when it started to become all wheeze, Peri let up and moved back to just gently brushing over his ears. He didn't want to kill the guy, no matter how annoying he was.

Irep's wings drooped and practically melted off his back as he was granted a break. He panted through softer, shy giggles as his ears were tickled, occasionally twitching or jerking his head to the side.

"Yoho- You're dehehead.. ahafter thihis." The anti-fairy giggled out despite being a whole puddle on the floor.

"Don't act like you weren't directly asking for it." Peri replied, pulling his hands back completely to let him up. "We're even."

He got up off the giggly man beneath him, assuming he would be too tired to do much else. Though he realized he was mistaken as soon as he was yanked back and wrestled back down to the floor.

"You forget who you're speaking to, Peri. I don't play to get 'even.' I do whatever amuses me."

He vibrated a clawed hand into the fairy's belly and watched with delight as he started to kick his legs, tossing his head back in bright laughter.

[daddykylokenobi]

Clyde Logan X Y/N Chapter 3

Warnings- cussing, sexual themes, male self pleasure, brief ptsd mentions, brief abuse/trauma mentions.

Clyde was relishing in his morning coffee on his front porch, it was Saturday and the cool breeze felt like the most refreshing thing he could think of. He ran through the events of the night before, him and Y/n had such a great time up until everything happened but he was just glad he was able to be there and get her home safe. As much as he tried not to dwell on these thoughts his mind kept going back to how pretty she looked, her polka dotted sundress and perfect red lipstick, Clyde shook his head as he tried to switch his thinking to something else. He looked out at the quiet street, it was only 7:30am and most of the neighborhood was still asleep but Clyde loved the calmness of the early mornings, it made a great time for him to enjoy his coffee and catch up on some of his reading that he didn’t have time for during the weekdays.

He took a long sip of the bitter drink in his mug as he cracked open his latest read which was the Sherlock Holmes series, he loved all different genres of books but mystery detective style ones were definitely his guilty pleasure. He flipped to his saved spot and let himself relax down into his chair, he was reading for only a few minutes when the distant pattering of someone’s footsteps started his way down the street. He ignored it for a moment until it got closer, he shot his head up to see what it was when to his surprise he saw Y/n jogging down the sidewalk in front of his house. He almost thought he was imagining it being her until they reached the front of his yard, they glanced over and raised a hand to wave before stopping dead in their tracks.

Y/n leaned over slightly to catch her breath then reached up to pull out her headphone. “Clyde?” She asked pulling her sunglasses down to peer over them as she followed the sidewalk upto his porch.

“Mornin’” he said with a slight chuckle.

Y/n suddenly felt embarrassed. “I had no idea you lived here, I switch up where I run week to week and so I haven’t been over here yet.” She huffed while still catching her breath.

“I was gonna say I haven’t seen you pass here before.” Clyde followed his eyes over her figure, she was wearing tight leggings and a lightweight jacket. “You run a lot?” he asked bringing his eyes back up to meet hers.

“Yeah I usually try to every morning but I take days off here and there.” She shrugged.

“Ah.” He nodded.

Y/n looked down at his lap and noticed him holding a book. “Oh well hey I better let you get back.” She pointed to his book with a smile as she began to turn back towards the street.

Clyde suddenly shifted forward in his seat, “Do ya want some coffee?” He asked quickly while gesturing towards the front door. “I-I mean I’ve got more inside if ya’d like.” Clyde regretted coming across so impatient but he didn’t want her to leave, their night before was cut short so badly and he already was anxious to spend more time with her.

Y/n looked at him then back at the street for a moment while debating her options. “Well if you’re sure you wouldn’t mind?” She asked stepping up onto the porch.

“Course not.” He smiled before leading her inside.

After a few minutes Y/n was leaning her hips against his kitchen counter as she watched him, he grabbed a mug from his cabinet then walked over and slowly poured the steaming beverage into the mug. She tried not to stare but his early morning ensemble was igniting something in her core. He was wearing dark sweatpants and a white t-shirt that fit his chest Too Good, Y/n thought as she bit her bottom lip trying to distract herself from some.. unruly thoughts. He turned around towards her then walked forward to hand her the mug.

“Thank you..” Y/n muttered softly as she took the warm beverage in her hands, her fingers lightly brushed his as she pulled the cup away from him. She looked up at his eyes, they were a richly dark shade of brown just like his almost black hair. He still had the look of softness that mornings did to everyone and his hair was fluffy and curled in at the edges. Clyde was the type of man who looked messily handsome and Y/n was more and more realizing her attraction towards him.

“It’s my pleasure.” He gave her a cozy smile before reaching to the counter to retrieve his own coffee.

She hesitantly brought her lips to the brim of her cup then took a small drink. “Mm.” She hummed while savoring the well known flavor.

They both stood in comfortable silence for a moment while each of them exchanged short glances and continued to drink their coffee.

“Hey um, I just want to thank you again for last night, I really appreciate you being there for me like that.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Clyde shook his head. “I was just doing what any decent man would’ve.”

Y/n shifted in her stance before looking away to the living room on her left. “Guess I haven’t had any decent men yet.” She somberly chuckled.

Clyde felt that there was a story behind her comment and his curiosity about her was too much for him to mind his own business. “Y/n.. are you doing alright? I know last night was.. rough, but it seems to be bothering ya’ quite a bit.. I-I’m sorry if that’s inappropriate ta’ say I just wanna check on you.” Clyde’s words were broken up and hesitated.

“Oh um..” she stared down into her mug seemingly trying to decide where she wanted to take this question. “I’ve just had some not super great experiences with boyfriends in the past so.. I guess I’ve just gotten a little sensitive to that stuff.” She weakly shrugged her shoulders before looking back up to him.

Clyde got an idea of what she meant by this, he again felt the same tinge of anger inside him as he felt the night before as he imagined someone mistreating her.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that.” Clyde too looked down, slightly regretting his question.

“Oh it’s okay, it’s been quite awhile now since any of that so.” She looked back down at the floor suddenly feeling embarrassed. “But I think it’s a bit to early to unpack all of that.” She chuckled trying to lighten the awkward tension that had grown in the room.

“I agree.” Clyde smiled before taking another sip from his mug.

Y/n drug the tip of her sneaker in circles along the wood floors, staring down she knelt to deeper inspect the floor.

“Uh, everythin’ alright?” Clyde pushed his eyebrows together as he watched Y/n drag her hand along the floor.

“Yeah I’m just looking here,” she said bringing up her head to scan the floor in the rest of the kitchen. “I do hard wood floor waxing, I think I could really polish these up nicely if you’d like.” She explained while standing.

“Oh uh,” Clyde looked around at the floor with a confused expression.

“Your house is actually quite clean though, it’s nice to see that not All single men live like animals.” She joked then caught herself, “you are single right? You don’t have a secret wife you’re hiding from me?” Y/n raised one eyebrow and had a goofy smirk painted across her lips.

Clyde shook his head while letting out a sigh. “No hun’ I don’t think so.” He laughed.

Y/n felt that same heat in her core rise up her chest to her throat and cheeks, the little pet name “hun’” was ringing through her head as she tried to not overthink his use of it.

“But really if you’d like to take a go at the floors I’d be real appreciative, when would ya’ be available?” He inquired.

“U-uh,” Y/n cleared her throat trying to get her mind in a work environment, “I’m free on Wednesday afternoon if that would work with you? I can send you a text with all of the information and pricing.” She pointed to Clyde’s phone which was sitting on the counter beside his coffee pot.

“Sure.” He nodded as he grabbed his phone and brought up the contacts screen so Y/n could add her number. “Here ya’ are.” He handed her the phone.

She quickly added her number to his phone then returned it.

“Well good I’ll be really curious to see how they turn out.” Y/n’s excitement over something like polishing a wood floor was slightly humorous to Clyde, he had a tiny smirk on his face as he watched her bend down once again to inspect the floors. “Welp anyways,” she started as she bounced herself back upto her heels. “I should go finish up my run before I lose my motivation.” She giggled as she walked to the sink and sat her empty mug inside of it. “Thank you again for the coffee Clyde it was great.” She once again gave him a warm smile before heading towards the front door. “Have a good rest of your morning.”

“Yer’ welcome and you too.” He nodded a goodbye as she exited the front door then began to jog back down the street as before. Clyde let out a deep sigh as he watched her figure begin to disappear the further away she got. He felt a sense of yearning inside of him after she had left, in a few minutes he had finished his coffee and was standing under the hot streams of water in his shower.

His body was aching for the touch of another and all he could think about was how amazing Y/n would look in the shower with him, he knew he shouldn’t indulge these thoughts but the idea of her wet naked body pressed against his chest was drowning out any semblance of gentlemanly thinking. He tilted his head back into the streams of hot water as he slowly began to palm at himself, he gently stroked his hand up and down his thick shaft while letting little moans and whispered curses escape his lips.

When Wednesday arrived Clyde hadn’t heard from Y/n the last few days except a simple text regarding her cleaning. It was 2:56 in the afternoon and the bar was slow, the lunch crowd had already come and gone and the evening group wasn’t around yet.

Clyde was taking his time to do some extra organizing in the cabinets behind the bar, there had been a loud thundering heat storm that day which was pouring buckets of rain down throughout the whole county.

A crack of deafening thunder caused Clyde to jump, he looked over to one of the waitresses who had done the same.

“It’s gettin’ pretty nasty out there.” Her country twang was strong with each syllable.

“Mmmhm.” Clyde nodded. “Maybe we should close early for the day, we haven’t had many cu-“ just as Clyde was finishing his sentence the power in the bar flicked off.

Him and the waitress shared a knowing look and ultimately when the power was never turned back on Clyde decided to call it an early day with the worsening weather.

His drive home was short, the entire town seemed to be out of power and people were dragging out generators in the rain and wind to power their homes, he halfheartedly cursed himself for not having a generator at his house yet but then decided that having a quiet rest of the day to read and enjoy the storm didn’t sound too bad.

When Clyde pulled into his driveway he was surprised to see another car there, an older model black honda. He eyed the vehicle trying to remember if anyone in the family was borrowing one or had recently bought one but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He stepped out of the car then jogged inside trying to escape the harsh weather.

He hesitantly opened his front door and stepped inside, from around the corner he could hear Etta James’ “Stormy Weather” playing, he slipped off his wet boots then peered around to peek into the kitchen.

Y/n was standing at the kitchen sink wiping it down, her hips were lightly swaying from side to side as she danced to the music, she was wearing tight black shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt.

Clyde felt his temperature rising and it wasn’t just from the humid 90 degree day they were having.

“Y-Y/n?” He called out while clearing his throat.

She jumped as she quickly turned her head around. “Oh my gosh!” She leaned over and brought her left hand to her chest. “You scared the hell out of me I didn’t hear you come in.” She huffed with a smile then walked over to turn her music down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare ya’” Clyde smirked. “I thought you would’ve left when the power went out.” He gestured towards the lights.

“Oh well I was almost done when they went out, just had to finish up a few things so.” She shrugged. “What about you? Shouldn’t the bar have a backup generator or somethin?” She asked looking down to the watch on her left wrist.

“Yeah usually but the powers out in the whole dang town so we closed up early, it’s gettin’ pretty bad out there.” He looked outside at the rain which had grown heavier just in the last few minutes.

“I know, storms used to scare me like crazy as a kid but now I love em’, perfect nap weather.” She smiled turning around to finish what she was doing. “I should be done in just about 10 minutes then I’ll be out, what do ya’ think though?” She pointed at the hardwood floors which were freshly polished.

“Oh-“ Clyde took a step back to get a wider look at the kitchens floor. “Yeah that looks real good.” He nodded while peeking around at the rest of the house. “Did you clean other stuff?” He asked while noticing the tidied living room.

“Shhh” Y/n brought her finger to her smirking lips. “It’s a secret.” She whispered.

“Y/n.. Ya’ didn’t have to do any of that, just let me know what I owe you an-” Clyde was cut off.

“Nope first times free.” She waved her hand up.

“What?” Clyde pushed his brows together. “What do ya’ mean it’s free I’m not lettin’ ya’ do all this and not paying ya’”

“Sorrryyy” she sang as she set a couple of cleaning supply bottles and rags in a black bucket on the floor. “That’s just my policy.” She crossed her arms.

“Well that’s not how this is gonna work.” Clyde shook his head as he took a few steps forward.

“Clyde.” Y/n said seriously to grab his attention even though you couldn’t have paid him to look away from her. “I just wanted to do something nice for you okay? After last weekend I felt like I needed to repay you so just let me do this.” Y/n had looked down away from his stare.

“Repay me?” Clyde asked as he continued to close the gap between them. “What for not lettin’ a jerk put his hands all over you?” Clyde was now standing directly in front of Y/n with his head tilted down to look at her.

“Well-.. you just didn’t have to intervene like you did.” She brought her face up to match his, he felt so big standing so close to her, she usually would be scared to be in such a compromised position with a man who could so easily overtake her but with Clyde she didn’t feel that at all, she felt safe.

“Darlin’..” Clyde hesitantly brought his right hand up to cradle her cheek. “You don’t need to repay me for taking care of ya’.” He lightly brushed his thumb back and forth across her face, her cheeks were burning red and hot to the touch. Clyde felt a small sense of pride for obviously making her flustered.

“Clyde…” she breathed out while staring up into his dark mahogany eyes. She shifted herself up on her tiptoes then inched forward.

Clyde felt his heart begin to race as he watched her motion closer to his lips, he wrapped his right arm around her waist then pulled her close to his chest and hips.

Then slowly their lips pressed together, hers were warm and soft which sent a dizzying effect throughout his entire body. He had thought of her all week even to the point of fantasizing about her while pleasuring himself, he knew he shouldn’t but there was something so irresistible about her.

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and melted against his large chest, weak hazy moans fell from her mouth as he hungrily slipped his tongue past her lips, she tasted of coffee and he was savoring each second.

Clyde groaned as he pushed his body against hers which trapped her between him and the counter, he felt himself getting stiff from the excitement and he lavished in the pleasure of pressing his hips closely to hers.

Y/n then suddenly pulled away, they both were weakly panting against each others faces as their eyes stared into one another’s.

“Let’s.. slow down.” She smiled as she pressed her palms against him to lightly push him back.

“O-oh I’m sorry.” He took a step back while cursing his instinctual male nature, he felt his bulge pressing against his khakis and he knew it was obvious.

“No no it’s okay,” she reassured him as again she looked down. She didn’t want to tell him that she was scared, that she had been in this situation before and it didn’t end well.

Clyde felt his words get caught in his throat as he could sense rejection coming, he tried to mentally prepare himself for what would come next. “Just what..?” He asked plainly.

Y/n felt tears well in her eyes as fear overcame her, she knew that Clyde wasn’t like Him, she knew he was a good guy who really seemed to like her, she knew it was irrational to think that every guy was going to end up being the same as before, but even with all of those reassuring thoughts she still felt her body paralyzing beneath her.

Clyde saw the wetness pool in her eyes.

“Y/n did I do somethin’ wrong..?” He reached out to grab her arm but she pulled away.

“I’m sorry I-I, it’s not you I just need to go.” Y/n rushed around the kitchen gathering her things then she headed for the door.

Clyde watched as she went to leave, he didn’t know what to do or say, he was replaying what had just happened over and over trying to find out his fault.

Y/n stopped for a second to look at Clyde, tears were streaming down her cheeks and her chest was rising up and down quickly from her sporadic breathing. She broke eye contact with him then rushed out the door, Clyde stood speechless in his kitchen as he heard her car start then leave.

He had no idea what happened, did he do something wrong? Did he say something or move too fast? A million thoughts rolled through his head as he dejectedly went to sit in the living room trying to process what went wrong.

Clyde had spent hours lying on the couch, reading or just staring at the ceiling thinking, the storm was still raging on outside and the power was unfortunately still knocked out.

He had made some hot tea with his gas stove and was roaming around the living room lighting candles so that he could have enough light to continue reading his book since it was now 8:06 and dark out.

A sudden knock on the door made him jump, his face shot over to the front door where he could barely make out a figure standing. He quickly walked over and opened it, to his surprise it was Y/n.

“Hi.” She greeted with a tired tone. She had her arms wrapped around herself as the wind pushed and pulled her drenched hair all around.

Clyde was speechless for a moment, for one he was surprised that she had even shown up but he also didn’t understand why she was soaked.

“Why are ya’ all wet?” He asked as he peered his head out the door to look towards the driveway. “Did you walk?” His voice was raised and confused as he saw her car wasn’t there.

“Yeah a tree came down in front of my car so I couldn’t get out.” She looked down trying to hide her embarrassment. “But I wanted to come talk to you.”

Clyde couldn’t believe she walked all the way through town in a rainstorm just to talk to him, he suddenly felt guilty even though he hadn’t done anything.

“Well hurry get in here.” He waved her inside.

Her shoes squelched and squeaked with each step as she walked inside. She had on jeans and a sweatshirt that both were dripping onto the polished floors.

“Here lemme grab ya’ a towel.” Clyde began to turn around towards the bathroom but Y/n grabbed his arm.

“No just wait I won’t be long then I’ll leave.” She shook her head.

Clyde stared for a second before turning towards her. “Okay.”

“Listen I-..” Y/n shut her eyes tightly as if trying to figure out how to correctly articulate what she had to say. “I’m so sorry about earlier today, I don’t know what happened I-I mean I Do but it wasn’t your fault and the way I reacted must’ve looked so bad and then I just left and-“ she huffed out as she dropped her face into her hands before tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. “I just wanted to apologize, you’ve been so good to me and we haven’t even known eachother that long b-but I really like you and I don’t want to ruin whatever This is.”

Clyde looked at her with a soft expression, he was so tired of getting hurt and disappointed with the women in his life but he couldn’t help but feel something for Y/n, besides she walked in torrential rain Just to talk to him.

“Y/n you haven’t ruined anything,” he began. “But it would be helpful if you could kinda explain what happened earlier, if I was moving too fast for ya’ I understand but I need you to tell me so I don’t make you run off again.” Clyde explained.

“I know..” Y/n hung her head in shame as the sound of her clothes dripping onto the floor echoed off the walls of their silence.

“Why don’t I get you something to change into then we can talk?” Clyde suggested while pointing down the hallway to where his bedroom was.

“That.. that would be nice.” She softly nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded back before leading her to his bedroom, he start rummaging through his dresser drawers for something that would fit her much smaller frame.

“Whatever you have is fine..” she felt nervous being in his room, even though she had already been in there that morning there was something different about how it felt when he was there with her.

“Sorry this is all I can find, the shorts are from my sister who stays sometimes.” Clyde handed her a pair of Mellies blue shorts and one of his plain black t-shirts.

“Thank you.” Y/n took the clothes then went to the bathroom to change, she stripped off her wet pants, underwear, shirt, and sweatshirt, her underwear had gotten soaked but luckily her bra since it was underneath her shirt and sweatshirt was only damp in a few spots. She felt so small after slipping on Clyde’s shirt, it was hanging loosely under her waist and the short sleeves went all the way to her elbows.

After a moment of trying to wrangle her wet messy hair she finally went back out to find Clyde, he was sitting on the couch waiting for her, he watched her timidly enter the living room then sit on the other end of couch he was on.

Clyde cursed himself internally as he immediately thought of how cute she looked in his shirt, the shorts were resting tightly around her thighs which gave the illusion that she wasn’t wearing anything under the oversized tee.

“So, I suppose I need to explain earlier.” She sighed.

“Did I just move too fast?” He quickly asked.

“No it really wasn’t that you moved fast Clyde, I-… I have an ex boyfriend named Aaron, we were together for 2 years and it was.. it was just bad and it’s something that I’ve had to do a lot of healing from but time to time stuff kinda comes back, so this morning I ran into him at the store and he was trying to talk to me and he wanted to get coffee and all this stuff and it just brought back a lot of bad memories that I’ve tried to forget. So then when we…” she stopped while trying to find the right word. “When we had our Moment I just had a lot of those bad memories kind of resurface and I got scared, I know it’s stupid and irrational but I just had to leave and get out.” Y/n was anxiously fidgeting with her hands the whole time.

Clyde was worried and relieved at the same time, he was glad to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong but the thought of her having a shitty ex around made his blood boil And he who treated her badly? Yeah, not while he was around.

“He lives in town?”

“Yup… I almost didn’t move back because of him but I thought surely he wouldn’t try to do anything but lo and behold..” she shrugged.

Clyde shook his head, “When you say bad… What really do ya’ mean? If you’re okay telling me.” He reassured.

Y/n closed her eyes with her head tilted down, “He just, he would get really mad a-and when he did he would throw things and yell and just everything you could think of.. He um-… he also would try and do things a lot without me really wanting too so that’s why today I got so scared, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to do it earlier I just haven’t been with anyone since so I think I kinda panicked honestly. I’m so sorry Clyde, I hate to drag you into all of this I just needed to explain myself, I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that you did something wrong which is so far from the truth.”

Clyde couldn’t believe what he was hearing, someone who lives in town did that stuff to her? Treated her like that? Clyde was growing more furious by the second but when she started apologizing all of his anger disappeared.

“Y/n you ain’t got nothing to apologize for, I’m real sorry that that all happened with him, I couldn’t imagine someone treatin’ you that way..” Clyde reached his hand forward to gently brush his fingers across her knee, he felt extra cautious now with any touch and he wanted to make sure she was comfortable. “I’d never want to make you feel unsafe or scared, I just wanna be here for ya’ and protect you.”

Y/n fought back the urge to breakdown, “Thank you Clyde, that really does mean a lot to me.” She brought her hand forward to rest it overtop of his, they both looked up at eachother and smiled. “I’m sorry for coming so late, you’re probably tired.” She looked down to her watch which read 20 minutes past 10.

“Oh I’m alright, you should be the one tired after walking all the way here in that.” Clyde said gesturing outside at the roaring wind. “Besides I’m usually up late because of the bar so this is early for me.”

Y/n laughed. “That’s true.”

They each sat angled towards eachother listening to the rain pour against the roof and windows.

“Well hey uh, if ya’ wanna stay here t’night you’re more than welcome too, or I can take ya’ home if you’d rather that.” He wanted her to stay, he wanted to keep talking to her, he wanted to hold her close and make her feel safe.

“Oh umm..” Y/n looked around the room. “Are you sure it would be okay? I don’t want to drag you out in all this so late.” She stared at the door.

“Of course it’s not a problem at all.” He showed her to the spare room that was right across the hallway from his, the walls were white and it was furnished nicely.

“Ya’ know I was slightly surprised how neat you keep things, most men I clean for it’s a disaster by the next week when I show up again.” Y/n commented as she walked around to the bed then sat down.

“Well when I was in the service you kinda get used to it being that way, it’s trained into ya’ I guess.” He shrugged.

“You were in the service?” She raised her eyebrows as she looked over to Clyde.

“Mhm.” He plainly nodded.

“Oh wow I didn’t know that, I guess that would explain some things though.” She said as she walked over to the bed.

“Well my arm actually happened on my way home, it was a railway accident.” He mumbled while looking away from Y/n.

“Oh I didn’t mean that.” She shook her head while smiling. “I meant like your manners and that kinda stuff.” She chuckled.

“My manners?” Clyde had a confused expression as he looked back at her.

“Yeah.” She shook her head up and down, “you’re well mannered which is different from most guys, and the way you keep your house..” she said looking around. “You’re gentlemanly and that’s kinda hard to find nowadays.” She chuckled.

Clyde felt heat rise to his face as Y/n called him a gentleman, he smirked to himself as he thought of all the things he’d done just a few months ago which definitely wasn’t something a “gentleman” would’ve done. Nonetheless though the compliment flustered him and it was showing.

“O-oh well thank you, I appreciate that.”

Y/n smiled at his awkward thank you.

Clyde cleared his throat then quickly walked over to the door, “I’ll let ya get some sleep now, if you need anything just let me know I’ll be right across the hall.” He then shut the door behind him.

Y/n felt lonely after he left, she wiggled her way under the blankets and stared at the dark ceiling, in a few minutes she heard him close his bedroom door and a tinge of disappointment washed over her as the night had reached an end.

Y/n didn’t know how long she had been laying there, she pulled her arm out to check her wrist watch and sighed heavily when she read the digital “12:18AM”She had been in bed a little over 2 hours and it was starting to drive her crazy. The past half an hour she had been considering getting up and going to him but she fought herself every time. She didn’t want to admit to herself what she wanted but the growing heat and need between her legs was too intense to ignore anymore.

Cursing herself she flung the blankets off of her and sat up, she looked over at the door and a wave of anxiety rushed over her, she finally after a moment stood and walked to the door, it was pitch black except for the light from a few dim candles.

The door creaked quietly as she opened it, she looked up and down the hallway out into darkness then stepped out of her room, she tip toed to his door then stood in front of it staring down at the handle.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed before you do something dumb.” She told herself as she reached her hand down to the doorknob. A sudden loud crack of lightening paralyzed her, she stood for what felt like an eternity before she inched the door open. She peeked her head in the door then felt her entire body freeze.

Clyde was laying on his side asleep, the room was dark except for a few burning candles he had scattered around the room.

Y/n crept into the room and shut the door behind her, walking over to the side of the bed she continued telling herself to stop, to leave and go back to her bedroom, she shook her head trying to push away the thoughts and leaned forward to crawl into the bed.

Clyde was softly snoring, he looked so peaceful and cute she thought to herself as she inched onto the bed, after she had successfully snuggled in without waking him up she covered herself with the blanket and laid down facing him.

She studied his face in the dim light, the curves of his cheeks and nose, his pink lips that she craved so badly to kiss again. She reached out and gently cupped her hand to his left cheek.

Just then Clyde jerked awake and looked over at Y/n who was staring at him with wide eyes, he stared back for a moment then relaxed back into his pillow.

“Is everything okay?” He asked with a sleepy voice as he leaned up to look around the room.

“Clyde everything’s fine,” she grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him back down. “I just.. I was lonely in there.” She whispered while tilting her head towards the door. “I hope it’s okay..”

Clyde was quiet for a moment as he tried to process what she had said, he was still partly asleep and was trying to get his thoughts together. “Oh- yeah yeah it’s fine.” He mumbled as he repositioned himself and pulled the blanket back upto his torso.

“Okay…” she let out a sigh of relief and tried to get comfortable herself.

“Are ya okay?” He asked while rubbing his eyes.

“Mhmm.” She nodded while watching him.

“Alright,” he scooted back a little then pulled the blanket up with his right arm creating an open space between them. “C’mere.” He said gesturing for her to join him.

Y/n beamed internally at this invitation, she smiled softly then snuggled over into his chest.

Clyde let out a satisfied sigh as he laid the blanket back over the two of them and wrapped his arm around her, he laid his hand against the back of her head and delicately stroked her hair. He then leaned his face down and kissed the top of her forehead.

Y/n could’ve cried, she felt so safe and loved in his arms, she had never had a man treat her so… tenderly. She wasn’t worried about the aching between her legs anymore, she felt so heavy and tired as Clyde pet at her hair and planted little kisses to her forehead, before long she was drifting asleep and he was too.

“Goodnight Clyde..” she sleepily mumbled against his chest as she nuzzled her face up into his neck and shoulder.

“G’night sweetheart.” He whispered back as he pulled her tighter against him.

Clyde hadn’t felt this relaxed in what seemed like forever, he wanted nothing more than to protect her and just show her how much he truly cared and in this moment he was able to do that. He melted into her embrace and quickly they both were asleep.

[rainset]

Story Practice (10/22/22)— DOG Part X

Main street winds down in grooves and sanded down glass shards making for a gradient raindow that dances in sunlight. Looking like something out of an illustration.

They’re walking by the village people sharing it’s simple splendor, taking a detour to the right where little houses bloom up.

Rosalina’s home is a garden and from bottom nail to the highest point of her home, is covered in ivy. Plants have reclaimed her abode, and she welcomes it.

Flowers bloom to the left, grapes and tomatos tangle to the right. Even more of her garden is bellowing over her gates, and sprouting the other side.

The entire home is shaded by a massive tree, that grows oranges instead of apples from their backyard.

Shiro pries open the gate. “H-here we- are!” She tugs it open and signals Jeremy in.

He looks around at every budding green vine and tangle, brushing against his face as he steps through the front.

Large stepping stones lead to a dark green door. The ivy slipping under its frame.

Jeremy quietly steps up to it and after a moment, knocks. By the third, it opens.

A dark haired woman stands near to even level height to the land, only looking down by an inch or two.

She nearly has a heart attack when she sees him. “OH MY GA-“ she grips her chest. “-WHO ARE YOU?!”

“Mama- mama wait!” Shiro raises up her spindlely arms from her jacket, pushing Jeremy out the way.

Rosalina sighs in relief and hugs her girl. “Thank heavens, oh- it’s just a friend, right?” She squeezes her tighter. “You have a friend?”

Shiro smiles hard and nods. “Yeah!!” She backs away and points to him. “That’s Jeremy Hoth-“ her mom grabs her hand and yanks it down. “Shi-shi don’t point, it’s rude!”

Shiro ignores her and looks back up “he’s super cool and doesn’t hang out with anyone except for me!”

Rosalina raises a brow. “Is that right..?” She looks to the boy, turning her head slightly so her dark hair goes behind her shoulder. “Is there something you do with my daughter?”

Jeremy���s face gets pale. He tries to speak but couldn’t. Her eyes bore into him.

Shiro tugs on her mom’s chest. “NO he’s just special, he’s different, okay?”

Her mama looks at him further. Then realizes. Her squinting eases away. “You’re the Hoth kid aren’t you?”

He nods.

“Aye yea we know about you.. how you been?”

He shrugs.

Rosalina gets a tug at her throat. She pushes on her front door to creak it back open, waving him in. “Com’on in, I’ll fix you two some tea.” She looks down to her baby. “Hungry?”

Shiro shrugs. “Tsk- did you get ice cream again?” Shiro grins and nods. “You know that ruins your appetite! Com’on.” Shiro goes inside, waving Jeremy in.

He slowly comes inside to see a home made entirely of antiques. From the chairs to the oven, but all is in working order. There’s an upstairs too. It’s geometric, it has shape and form. There’s a beauty to that.. Jeremy wanted to draw.

Rosalina pulls out a seat for him and he quietly sits— but it groans as he does. He feels a bit emberassed, looking up to her.

Rosalina waves it off as she puts a teapot to the stove. “They like that. Not you.”

“Do you.. have any paper? And charcoal?”

Rosalina thinks a moment. “I got pencil. You wanna draw?” He nods and in a moment she digs through her office and places a wide sheet in front of him, with a broken pencil. “No eraser, I can get you one?” Jeremy nods a ‘no’ and he proceeds to draw out what is inspiring him, his mind flowing down his arm, and all things that worry him washes away to lines and shapes, something coming into being out of an empty page.

Shiro watches him as he does his process. Nobody said a word to let him work.

———

[veenxys]

「Things aot characters do when they have a crush」

⤷ Levi

he starts to take care of you and protect you in little ways; he offers to walk you home and only leaves when he's sure you're safe. he puts his hand on your back when you walk or protects you with his body in crowded places. he always has your favorite tea and makes it often for you, even without you asking. when you're feeling cold, if only a little, he instantly drapes his jacket over your shoulders in a protective way. he puts his hand over your face to protect your eyes from the sun on a very sunny day. in a room full of people, he always wonders where you are. he always has an eye on you to make sure you are well and comfortable and to admire your beauty that he is so enchanted.

⤷ Eren

he tries to be your best friend; he's slow to notice his feelings, but he doesn't bother hiding them after he does. he doesn't want to scare you, of course, so he tries to get even closer to you so that you can create an even deeper and more special bond. and in the meantime, he makes sure everyone knows you two are close. actually plays it cool, but secretly thinks of you 24/7. sometimes his eyes unconsciously drop to your lips as he speaks to you. always asks you out with his friends and ends up ignoring or forgetting everyone else and just talks to you like you're the only person in the world. so many little touches, like light brushing with your fingertips, a light rubbing of the shoulders or knees touching under the table. is tenderly protective of you and very supportive.

⤷ Mikasa

she leaves little hints that she only has eyes for you; when others are talking superficially about people they think are hot, she never joins the conversation, and if you're there, she looks at you very often before looking away at the floor. if someone asks her to describe her ideal type, her mind immediately goes to you as she describes your qualities. she also likes to hear you talk, she loves to ask about your day and it's not just 'how was your day', she says 'tell me about your day' because she really wants to know and because she loves being so close to you.

⤷ Jean

he becomes softer and more indulgent; he will gladly put up with your teasing and impudence without retaliating too much, he rolls his eyes as if he's bored, but if you pay just a little attention, you'll see the small smile lingering on his face with your witty comments. other people find it equally frustrating and nauseatingly cute how blatantly biased he is towards you; like one day, everyone is trying to convince him to go out to a new bar, and he angrily keeps saying no, but the moment the others mention you'll be there, he immediately says "ok, what time?"

⤷ Armin

your words matter a lot for him; one day, you casually greeted him saying he looks good in green and you were pleasantly surprised to see that he wore different shades of green all week. and you're also the first person he thinks of and wants to go to if he needs or wants something. it's usually small things that he considers important, like asking you to pick a color for a new shirt he's buying or borrowing your pen when he forgets to bring it - even if other people offer him the same pen, he politely refuses because it's yours he wants.

⤷ Connie

he always wants to make you smile or laugh; whenever he tells a joke, you are the first person he looks at, because he wants to see your reaction. the heat and a tinge of redness spreads across his cheeks when you meet his gaze in the middle of your laugh. he also tends to casually whisper little inside jokes in your ear or comment on something he saw when you guys are in public. and smile fondly when you make a funny expression. “I love your laugh. I love it so much”, he lets you know randomly one day.

⤷ Porco

he looks at you like you should be protected at all costs, like you're the most precious thing in the world. and honestly he doesn't care if you catch him staring at you, he won't stop. he likes to notice your little quirks and habits and he finds them so goddamn cute. he wants your opinion on things because he cares about what you think. he wants to be up to date on your life and keeps you up to date on his. soft looks, but deep and intense. becoming goofy and energetic around you because he loves to make you smile.

🏷 tags! @1nterbad, @togasbloodbag, @anarchythedork, @kitkozume, @mikaelatp,@deadmansdoctor, @dukina, @team-heichou, @escapenightmare, @shiggyscumrag

• masterlist • taglist form •

[cobrakaisb]

5 times robby fell in love with you + 1 time he actually said it

requested: no

a/n: hey besties it’s been a hot minute! i promise that part two of modern day romeo and juliet is in the works but here is a little robby imagine because i have been in my robby feels lately. :)

summary: read the title besties :) you and robby are already dating in this imagine. 

word count: 1832

one: wheel training

“i don’t know about this mr. larusso,” you mumble as you take your sweatshirt off to climb into the pond. robby was already in there, shivering from the coolness of the water. “you’ll be fine y/n,” mr. larusso says encouragingly. you nod, slowly entering the shallow pond with robby’s help. together the two of you approach the wheel in the middle, each of you on your respective sides. “okay now climb on,” mr. larusso instructs, and you look nervously at robby, who just nods. together the two of you climb onto the wheel.

after countless tries and many failed attempts the two of you were able to perform the technique semi-decently. “we did it!” you shout as you come up from the water. robby and mr. larusso laugh at your excitement. you splash some water up in the air, laughing as the droplets hit your skin on the way down. robby looks at you adoringly, a smile on his face. “alright you two, that’s enough for today. i’ll see you tomorrow,” mr. larusso says, smiling at the two of you as he walks towards the house. 

once he’s inside the house, robby wades through the water to you. “we did it robby!” you cheer, throwing your arms around his shoulders, a proud smile on your face. “yes we did baby,” he answers, resting his forehead against yours. “just imagine us doing that in a fight! we’d be unstoppable!” you exclaim and robby just nods his head. he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying, instead he was thinking about how happy you made him and how contagious your smile was.    

two: during the mall fight

“get behind me,” you instruct demetri, pushing the tall boy behind you, while sam took care of the others. “back off,” sam tells hawk, and you nod your head, getting into your fighting stance. hawk scoffs at the three of you. “i don’t want to have to hit a girl,” he says, looking between you and sam. now it was your turn to scoff. “funny how you think you’d even stand a chance against us,” you say confidently. now robby was beside you, the three of you covering demetri.

“five against four. more like three and a half,” hawk remarks, nodding towards his friends, signaling the start of the fight. you were fighting off two boys in the back while robby was fighting off two of them in the front. sam was taking care of some boy towards the middle of the group, while demetri just stood in the center, not fighting anyone. slowly, one by one, you and your friends had taken down the cobra kais, well all of them except for hawk. 

you look over your shoulder to see hawk charging towards you robby, who was cornered up against a table. you knew that robby could handle himself, but a wave of protectiveness washed over you. the next thing you know, hawk was lying on the floor of the food court while you stood in front of robby. everyone ohed at the sight of hawk lying on the ground, but you didn’t pay them any mind. you turn to face robby, grabbing his face in your hands. “are you alright?” you ask, looking over him worriedly. robby chuckled at you, pulling you into a tight hug. “i’m fine baby, thank you,” he answers with nothing but admiration in his voice as he kisses your forehead.  

three: he catches you singing

robby jogs up the stairs to your room. today the two of you were taking a break from karate and planning on watching a movie together. robby knocks on the door, but there was no answer. he cracks the door open and sees you jumping around your room. you were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, your hair brush in your hand, as you belted out the lyrics to teenage dirtbag. “oh yeah! dirtbag!” you sing along with zayn malik. robby smiles as he watches you sing and dance around the room. 

now you were standing in front of your mirror, pointing to yourself as you sang, completely engrossed in the song. at one point you tilt your head back, really getting into it. robby continues to watch you sing the song, a loving smile on his face the entire time. he only makes himself known when he claps his hands once the song ends. you freeze, turning towards the door where your boyfriend is clapping. a blush immediately coats your cheeks, as you throw your hairbrush on your bed. 

“i didn’t take you as a singer y/n,” robby points out, stepping into your room. your blush turns an even deeper shade of red as you look away from his hazel eyes. robby closes the distance between the two of you, placing a loving kiss on your lips. “i thought it was cute,” robby confesses once you seperate. “especially since you’re wearing my shirt,” he continues, a giggle escaping your mouth. “stop being cheesy,” you say, pushing him away from you. “but you love it,” he remarks, sitting down on your bed. you roll your eyes, “i guess.”    

four: your date at the roller rink

it was 80s night at the roller rink, and you and robby were long overdue for a date night. you and robby decided to go as people from the outsiders. robby as a soc and you as a greaser. “an enemies to lovers typa beat,” you explain, fixing his jacket. robby just nods along, too busy admiring you in your ripped jeans and leather jacket. 

“i’ll go get the skates. wait here,” robby says, kissing your cheek as he walks towards the rental counter. shortly after, robby comes back with two pairs of skates. “thanks robby,” you say, placing a chaste kiss on his lips as he sits down on the bench next to you. “okay ready?” robby asks, and you nod, grabbing his hand as the two of you head over to the roller rink. 

together you skate leisurely around the rink. laughing and singing along to the 80s songs that the dj is playing. while the two of you are skating hand in hand when the song i would die 4 u by prince comes on. “oh my gosh! i love this song!” you cheer, excitement all over your face. robby chuckled at your words, “i know. i may have put in a request with the dj.” you smile so big when robby said that. “you’re the best robby,” you say, and robby could tell that your words were genuine. robby just smiled at you, listening to you sing along with prince.       

five: midnight baking session

you couldn’t sleep. it was 12:00 at night, and you could not fall asleep. robby on the other hand, was fast asleep. well you thought he was fast asleep when you left your room to go to the kitchen. it turns out that robby wasn’t asleep because he was now standing in the kitchen, watching as you grabbed different ingredients. “what are you doing y/n? it’s twelve am,” robby asks, a tired yawn escaping him. “i couldn’t sleep so i decided to make some brownies. want to help?” you ask him, and you're practically begging him with your eyes to say yes. “why not,” robby mumbles, joining you. 

“yes! okay so can you go get the medium saucepan? it’s in that cabinet over there,” you instruct, pointing towards the cabinet. robby nods tiredly and gets you the pan, wrapping his arms around your waist once he brings it to you. “tired?” you ask him, measuring out the flour. “just a bit,” robby replies, resting his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck. you giggle, moving your head away from him. “stop that tickles,” you say, looking at the snoop dogg cookbook. 

about forty minutes later, you and robby are sitting on the couch watching friends and eating brownie sundaes. “these brownies are so good,” robby says, basically moaning at the taste. “yeah babe? do you like them?” you ask, cuddled up to his side. robby nods vigorously. “they are so good. you better make these more often,” he says, looking at you. “i will,” you promise and robby nods gratefully. the two of you continue to watch the show and eat your ice cream.

“hey i’m done. do you want me to put your bowl in the sink?” robby asks, sitting up from his spot on the couch. “yes please,” you respond, handing him the empty bowl. robby takes it from you, but not before placing a kiss on your cheek. “what was that for?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “you had some chocolate there, and maybe i just wanted to kiss you,” robby replies and a huge smile encompasses your face. 

it was now three am and george lopez was playing. you were asleep on robby’s chest, while he was watching the show. “i love you robby,” you mumble tiredly, cuddling into his chest more. robby tenses at your words, but he smiles and places a kiss on your forehead, quietly repeating the phrase back to you.    

one: when you visit him in jail

you sat down at the table, waiting for robby to come out. you were fidgeting with the tupperware of brownies you brought for him. even though you had come to visit robby multiple times, you always got nervous waiting for him. the door opened and teenage boys were walking into the room. your eyes immediately searching for robby. he saw you right away, and walked over to your table.

“hi robby,” you say quietly once he sits down. robby gives you a small smile, “hi baby.” it was quiet for a minute, but you quickly broke the silence by shoving the tupperware container towards him. “i made you brownies. the snoop dogg ones because they’re your favorite,” you explain and robby smiles widely at you, grabbing your hand that was resting on the table. 

“thanks. i’ll eat them as soon as i can,” he says truthfully. “are you okay? they haven’t been bugging you have they?” you ask him quietly, looking over his face for any bruises or cuts. robby chuckles at how worried you are. “i’m fine y/n, i promise. you don’t need to worry about me,” robby says and you roll your eyes at him. “i worry because i care and because i love you,” you answer, casually slipping that three word phrase in there. robby sits there in shock for a minute before an even bigger smile takes over his face. “i love you too y/n,” he says, squeezing your hand. a smile as big as robby’s takes over your face too. 

“so what’s been going on?” robby asks and you immediately jump into a ramble about the newest book that you’ve been reading. meanwhile, robby just smiles, proud of himself for finally telling you how he feels. 

taglist: @iwantahockeyhimbo @estupidteen​ @funprincess101​ @mrfeenyisswag   

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Can i request the Brothers with mc geting nervous and asking to hold there hand. They feel safer when they are holding there hand.

Brothers When MC Asks To Hold Their Hand (Headcanons)

Lucifer

Meeting Diavolo was a big deal, being introduced as Lucifer’s significant other was an even bigger deal. Your nerves were running high as the both of you sat at the long table in the castle dining room, your breaths were shaky as you waited for the demon lord to enter. Lucifer smiled over at you, his eyes asking the questions that he knew you didn’t want to be said out loud. “Can you hold my hand?” You asked shyly, your fingers drumming against your lap. His eyes softened as his hand moved on top of yours, flipping your palm up so he could lace his fingers between your own.

“There’s nothing to worry about, dear. I’ll be beside you the entire time, just squeeze my hand if you need anything.”

Mammon

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walked down the busy streets of the Devildom. You were new, you were different, you were human. You knew that most of these demons weren’t going to be as kind and welcoming as the ones that you lived with, and you feared getting separated from the demon beside you.. “C-Can I hold your hand?” You mumbled, balling your fists in your jacket pocket. His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as he slipped his own hand into your pocket beside your own, holding your hand tightly as he continued walking.

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen ta ya. Jus’ stay close ta me, I gotcha.”

Leviathan

He had asked you to go with him to the store so he could get a new game. You didn’t want to say no to him because he was just as nervous about going out of the house as you were. Apparently there was a limited edition version of a game that he wanted being released, and everyone in the Devildom wanted it. There was a sea of people waiting around the store and you didn’t want to be there at all. “L-Levi… Can I hold your hand?” He nodded quickly, grabbing your hand awkwardly but holding it as tight as he could as he turned the both of you around and started walking home.

“I-I didn’t know everyone would be there… I’ll just order it online. A-Are you okay?”

Satan

He had pulled a prank on Lucifer, and somehow you had gotten wrapped up in the punishment process just for being with Satan. He didn’t intend for it to go down like this, and he made sure to constantly refocus all of the attention onto himself if Lucifer even looked in your direction. It still didn’t change the fact that you hated Lucifer’s yelling, and seeing him so angry made you nervous. “Can I hold your hand…?” You whispered to Satan, your hand already outstretched to him. He sighed softly, intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb brushed along yours.

“Hey, it’s alright. Scoot closer to me, you don’t need to be nervous.”

Asmodeus

Premiere events were his thing, and the only thing better than being invited to these events was having you by his side when he walked in. You had never told him how nervous you got in situations like this, and usually you were able to keep it under control. This time though, so many people were coming up and talking to him, you felt surrounded, it was an awful feeling. “Asmo, can I… can I hold your hand?” His lips turned to a frown as he looked down at you, quickly grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss the back.

“Would you like to go home, love? We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Beelzebub

He tried his best to keep you out of situations that made you uncomfortable or made you feel nervous or scared. He wanted to protect you from these feelings, and he did the best that he could to do just that. He hadn’t expected the restaurant to be so crowded on your date night, it usually never was, but he could sense how nervous you were, he was completely attuned to it. You didn’t even have to ask him, your body language did all the talking for you, and he quickly placed his hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze as he smiled apologetically down at you.

“I didn’t know it’d be this packed. We can go somewhere else… or we can just have something at the house. Whatever you choose is okay with me, I just want to spend time with you.”

Belphegor

Sometimes the scariest places weren’t outside of the house or around people. Sometimes they were in your dreams, waking you up in the middle of the night and keeping you awake until the early hours of the morning. One particular dream was worse than others and you rolled over to face him, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Belphie, can I hold your hand?” He mumbled incoherently, sliding his hand out from under his pillow to grab your own before his eyes slowly opened, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you.

“You don’t have to ask me, you know… You can hold my hand whenever you need to. I’ll never tell you no.”

[spoodrm4n]

Opposites Attract

Pairings: Will Byers x Mike Wheeler

Warnings: pure fluff w/ the slightest bit of angst

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: the byler brainrot is in full swing

Will Byers has never been good at explaining how he feels. He’s never been able to find the right words for what’s going on inside of his head. Sure, he’s always been poetic in a sense, but never about himself. Will also loves a lot of things that he doesn’t tell anyone else about. He loves the yellow wildflowers that grow on the side of the road and the hills of Hawkins, he loves D&D, he loves drawing– especially with no. 2 pencils, he loves his mom and his brother, and he loves his friends. Will also loves Mike Wheeler. But not in the same sense as his friends. Mike has always been different. Will has known this since he was thirteen. He has always loved Mike Wheeler differently and specially and he hates himself for it. Will loves Mike, but he hates himself. 

Mike Wheeler has always been too loud about his feelings. He has always been vocal about his emotions. He’s never been poetic. He doesn’t think he will ever be poetic. Mike Wheeler is blunt and upfront and honest. Mike is open about who and what he loves. Mike loves when it rains, he loves music and playing the guitar, he loves arcade games, he loves his sister and his mom, and he loves his friends. He’s come to the realization that he loves Will. Will has always been different to Mike– he’s made that known. Will has always been his best friend, his person. Mike has always clung to Will Byers unapologetically. Mike loves Will Byers and he is shaken to his core about the thought. 

They stare at each other, the chilled October air penetrating their jackets. The sun has long since gone down and the moon stares down at the two teenagers. The quarry is abandoned because it’s a Tuesday night and no one drives out here on weekdays. 

Will can’t seem to catch his breath as he takes in the older boy in front of him. His hair is messy like usual, his eyes are dark and focused in on him, his cheekbones are illuminated by the dim light that the moon exudes, and faint freckles litter his face. Mike Wheeler has always been so so pretty– it’s a wonder how no one has told him, Will thinks. 

Mike is aware that he’s been staring at the boy in front of him for a minute too long, but he can’t tear his gaze away. The green in Will’s hazel eyes poke through subtly, his hair is neat per usual, his cheeks are pink, he’s still tanned from the California sun, his eyebrows are faintly pulled together, and his lips are slightly parted. Mike is sure that no one will ever compare to the way Will Byers looks. He’s stunning. 

Will notices the dip in Mike’s gaze from his eyes to his lips and his heart hammers in his chest. “Mike.” Will whispers, breaking the silence between them. Mike’s eyes flicker back up to meet Will’s. 

“Will.” Mike says back cooly, tongue poking out to lick his lips. Will swallows harshly and he’s sure his face had turned a deeper shade of red. 

“We should get back.” Will tries, determined that he’s misreading the tension hanging in the air between them. 

“Can I kiss you?” And the words are out of Mike’s mouth before he can think twice. He expects Will to be disgusted, maybe even leave. He doesn’t. Will keeps his feet planted where they are and his lips parted, eyebrows pulled upwards in surprise. 

“Uh, y-yeah.” He finally stammers out and that’s all Mike needs to hear before he’s stepping forward, closing the space in between them and cupping Will’s cheeks in his palms. Mike doesn’t quite kiss him yet and Will’s hands find Mike’s waist, fingers gripping onto him hard– to make sure that this is real; that he’s not imagining it. Mike is real. 

“I’m sorry,” Mike’s lips brush against Will’s and before Will can reply, their lips are finally connected. It takes Will a moment to catch up– he’s been imagining this moment for years now and it takes his brain a second to process that he’s not imagining it. After that, Will is kissing back, hands sliding up Mike’s waist, onto his shoulders, then to the back of his neck, fingers pulling at strands of ebony. 

Mike is pouring all that he wants to say into kissing Will. He’s striving to apologize, the past couple of years between them rocky and strained. Mike knows he’s been less than ideal to Will and Will deserves the world. Mike wants to give him everything, wants to make up for all of the shit that he’s dragged Will through, but he’s never been very good with words. Mike’s thumb strokes over the apple of Will’s cheek and Will is sighing, his shoulders sagging and Mike is smiling into the kiss. He loves Will Byers and he’s decided at that moment that he’s going to spend the rest of his life making it up to Will. 

They part and lean their foreheads against one another, eyes still closed and hands still in the same place. Their breaths mingle together and Will is sure that if he opened his eyes that their breath would be seen drifting through the night air with how cold it was outside. Mike is diving back in, more desperate now.

Will can feel the apology in the way Mike touches him. He knows Mike all too well and he knows that he is sorry. Will tries to convey that he is sorry too. Sorry for all the times that he could’ve called, but left the decision up to Mike. Sorry for the way he didn’t write a single letter to the boy back in Hawkins. Sorry for the malice in his tone the day he had come to California. Sorry for the way that he had avoided him whenever his family had moved back to Hawkins. Will has made mistakes too and he’s well aware of it. 

Will is stepping back, leaving Mike across from him with his eyebrows pulled together, attempting to decipher what is going on inside Will’s head. “I’m sorry, too.” Will says, eyes glossed over with unshed tears and hands clasped together. Will looks down, ashamed at himself. Mike is once again breaking the distance, hands forcing their way into Will’s own. Will dares to meet Mike’s inky eyes. He decides then that Mike Wheeler looks the prettiest bathed in moonlight. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We both did stupid shit that we regret and I forgive you.” And the tears that Will had worked so hard to keep under wraps are falling down his cheeks now. 

“I-I forgive you too.” Will is choking out, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. The guilt had been eating Will alive ever since Mike had visited California and they had gotten into the first of many arguments that year. Will had hated the way he had pushed all of the blame onto Mike. Will had hated the way he watched Mike’s face crumble because of him. But Mike had forgiven him. Mike didn’t hate him. 

It’s Mike’s turn for his shoulders to slump and the tension to leave his eyebrows. Mike has never been good at words, but he’s never had to be for Will. He understands. Will always understands Mike. 

“I really like you.” Mike is smiling at the light brunette in front of him and Will lets out a sharp laugh that has Mike’s cheeks turning pink. Mike wants to tell Will he loves him– he thinks he always has– but he’ll start here. He’s happy just having Will in the first place.

“I really like you too.” Will is chuckling, hands squeezing Mike’s and his eyes crinkling at the edges with joy. Will wants to tell Mike he loves him, but he’s okay with taking things slow. Will has never been one for diving in head first. 

Mike is one to dive right in, but he can read Will easily and he knows that he’s going to have to be patient with Will. Will has always been broken, but Mike doesn’t blame him. Will has been through literal hell and back. Mike would wait a million years for him. 

“You’re so pretty.” Will is blurting out, eyes wide and staring at Mike. Mike blinks at Will because how can Will think that he’s pretty. Will is like sunshine and his skin is tanned with freckles dusted everywhere, his eyes are a perfect mix of green and brown, his hair is always perfect and smooth, and Will looks like he could’ve been formed by the gods. Mike Wheeler doesn’t think he even compares to his beauty but here Will is telling him that he’s so pretty. Mike is speechless for once in his life. 

“We should head back,” Mike is kissing Will again because Mike thinks Will is pretty too— even perfect— but the words are all jumbled up in his head, so that’s the best he can do. They kiss only for a moment before he starts pulling Will towards his car. 

“I could get used to that,” Will pipes up and Mike turns around, a grin spreading across his face. Will thinks Mike has the most beautiful smile. Mike acts as if he’s pondering Will’s words for a moment, the two still walking to Mike’s car. 

“I suppose I could too, William.” Mike smirks as Will scoffs at his own name. 

“I take it back.” Will can’t hide the giggle in his words as he rolls his eyes at the older boy in front of him. 

“No take backsies, William.” Mike sings, bringing them to the passenger side door and opening it for Will. 

“Such a gentleman, Micheal.” And Mike’s nose is scrunching up and his eyebrows are pulling together at the name. Will sits down and laughs at the older boy. 

“Okay, I’ll stop.” Mike shakes his head, his hair moving with him and falling into his eyes ever so slightly. He’s bending down to meet Will in the passenger seat and kissing him again. He’s still giddy from the first kiss. Will hums and Mike is leaning back, kissing Will on the cheek and standing up straight, closing the car door. “I’m not going to stop.” Mike chuckles to himself, walking to the drivers side, eager to be next to Will again.

[lexosaurus]

Invisobang: Morge pt 1

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming...a corpse was found in the woods.

Or, Amity Park's local cadaver dog trainer was walking her dog in the woods when they discovered a little surprise waiting for them six feet under.

Pairings: none WC: 9616 read on: [ao3] part 1 of 2, read: [part 2]

---

Some amazing accompanying art by @phantombreadproject

---

The dog bounded up ahead, his tongue flopping out of his mouth and his back paws kicking up dirt behind him.

If Sarah Abrams didn’t own him, it would have been too easy to assume he was just another derpy German Shepherd. But after years of training him, she knew how good at his job he was. As soon as the vest hit his fur, his playful demeanor changed to a serious, dependable, working dog.

He raced over to a tree, sniffing around the trunk.

“What you got there, bud?” Sarah called out from behind.

He looked at her momentarily before bending down, picking up a large stick in his mouth, and running up ahead.

“Figures.”

It was a beautiful morning, one that a midwesterner such as Sarah had spent too long dreaming about through the dreaded winter months. But finally the ground had thawed, and all remains of winter had evaporated into the air. The birds fluttered around building their nests, the squirrels climbed up and down trees in search of food, and the plants along the forest floor were budding, preparing to release a colorful sea of flowers.

By all accounts, it was the perfect morning for a hike in the woods. Amity Park, though a bustling city, did have its peaceful trails along the outskirts. Most people didn’t bother exploring them, seeing them as too out of the way, but not Sarah.

And her dog, Atlas, with his tail wagging and his head tilting from the weight of the large stick he proudly hauled with him seemed to agree.

A dewdrop hit her forehead, and she looked up, shading her eyes from the sun. The air was just warm enough that she could forgo her jacket, but not quite warm enough to also leave her sweatshirt in her car. Though, the world was just beginning to wake up for the day. She had left with her dog just before stores opened, and by the time she would arrive back in her neighborhood, the streets would be bustling with activity.

It was the perfect Saturday morning.

“What do you say, Atlas. You think I should get a bagel on the way back?”

But the dog didn’t turn to respond, having dropped the heavy stick in favor of darting off the trail to chase a squirrel.

Sarah had always wanted to work in Amity Park’s K-9 unit, and was all too excited when her application for an open position was accepted. From there she underwent training before she was placed with a new puppy, Atlas. The two of them worked together for months every day before he was finally able to start on the field as a cadaver dog.

It was a bit of a morbid job, if Sarah were being honest. Her parents had been rather concerned when Sarah admitted what field of the K-9 unit she was going into, but they tried their best to show their support. Even if her mom couldn’t help but make a face when Sarah tried to explain the various training exercises she did with Atlas.

But Sarah loved her work. She felt like she was truly making a difference in this city, and Atlas was an absolute joy to work with. In the four years they’d been together, they’d developed a keen sense of trust between each other that could only come out of the hours and hours spent training each week.

And despite his serious, professional demeanor when he was on the job, off the job he could be a bit of a goofball.

She stepped over a log and continued down the dirt path. She’d lost sight of Atlas, but she wasn’t concerned. He was never too far away from her.

And as if right on cue, a bark sounded from behind some brush.

Sarah recognized that bark, it was the same clipped, alerted tone he used in training and out on the field.

“What’s up?” Sarah called out.

Atlas barked again.

She frowned, moving the brush aside and stepping out from the trail’s path. She stepped behind a few trees and bushes before she saw her dog lying down on top of a patch of dirt, his body language wary, looking at her just like he did when he found human remains in training.

Sarah froze, looking at him. He barked again, and sniffed the ground.

Well trained cadaver dogs had ninety-five percent accuracy, and could easily ignore dead animal remains and food in favor of decomposing or even skeletal bodies. They could find human remains up to fifteen feet below the ground, and could even sniff out bodies underwater.

Sarah pulled out her phone.

It seemed like her morning hike was officially over.

---

“You have a very lucky dog,” Mark said, handing her a coffee.

Sarah hummed, graciously accepting the beverage. The scene had been roped off and was flooded with officers, detectives, and medical personnel. The morning had since passed, and now the sun beamed down on the tired workers.

It had been pure luck that Atlas had decided to wander off of the dirt path that day, that he had bounded from side to side, too full of energy to keep in a straight line. If they had walked by, would that person ever have been discovered?

“It’s deep in the ground,” Mark continued. “Whoever buried this John Doe didn’t want him to be found.”

“Kind of sick if you think about it,” Sarah said.

They had just uncovered the body, but it was unidentifiable on sight alone. It would need to be transported to a morgue before they could get any answers.

Mark took a long sip of his coffee. He was one of the younger detectives on the force, and for that reason, he and Sarah bonded instantly when he was hired in Amity. He was bright, exceptionally so, and showed a compassion for victims that was rare to see in law enforcement.

Sarah threaded her fingers through her blonde ponytail. “Well, hopefully you can solve one of your missing children’s cases.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

A man with salt and pepper hair came up to the duo. “Abrams?”

Sarah straightened immediately. “Sir?”

“You have a good dog. We’ll need you to come down to the station of course to give an official statement.”

“Of course, sir.”

She hadn’t had much conversation with the police chief, who was often a bit too old fashioned for Sarah’s taste. The man had only just switched to his first smartphone after his trusted flip phone finally refused to turn on after its years of service.

Of course, Chief Davis had spent about a week bemoaning the fact that people were insisting he get a smartphone, no he didn’t need one, his phone was fine, people these days were too reliant on technology and back in my day…

Rumor had it that his wife had been the one to finally crack him. And the man got his new sleek iphone, spent about a week asking every young recruit at work how to do basic tasks on the device, before he discovered that he could use Facebook on his phone. The following week had been filled with nothing but praise for modern software engineers.

Sarah flickered her eyes back over to the scene. The evidence bags and cotton swabs were being taken out of their cases as detectives gently prodded around the body.

Suddenly, there was a chill in the air. Sarah shivered and pulled her APD sweatshirt sleeves down her arms.

It felt...odd. The chill, it didn’t feel the same as when a spring breeze cut through a harsh, sunny day.

Atlas let out a warning bark.

Sarah’s brows furrowed. Something wasn’t right. No, this chill wasn’t on her skin. It felt deeper than that.

But before she could think about it, the body started glowing a familiar green.

Mark jumped back. “Holy shit!”

The detectives around the body scrambled back and whipped their ecto-guns out of their holsters. Everyone stood, watching with bated breath as the temperature plummeted and the green glow brightened before a familiar spirit shimmered into view.

“What the fuck,” Sarah whispered.

The figure hovered over the body disoriented, rubbing at his forehead as if he had a headache. A black jumpsuit covered his body, fading out at the end where a ghostly tail had replaced his legs.

Mark shot Sarah a horrified glance. “Is that—”

“Danny Phantom!” Chief Davis said, stepping forward.

Phantom’s hand fell, revealing acid green eyes. He surveyed the scene before finally turning his attention to the decomposing corpse below him.

He stiffened. Sarah saw the exact moment when reality hit his features.

“No…” he whispered, his eyes growing wide.

The air grew even colder.

The Chief raised his ecto-gun. “Step away from the body, Phantom.”

Phantom flew down, ignoring the chief, and hovered just above the cadaver. He reached down as if to touch the body, before he shot back, hitting a tree.

He gripped his chest, his eyes filled with panic.

“Phantom!” Chief Davis tried again.

Phantom’s eyes swung over to their group, and Sarah felt the breath leave her lungs. She had never seen the boy up close before, and he never exactly stuck around after fights to allow for conversation or questioning.

There had been close-ups of him on the news, as well as the occasional Tiktok or Youtube video from a random teen. And in those, Phantom always seemed so human, so real. And while publicly, as a member of the APD, Sarah was unable to voice her support for the vigilante ghost, privately she had never minded him. After all, he mostly stuck to ghost affairs, and whenever he got involved in human crime, it was always from a rescue position. Like saving an elderly man from a burning building, or saving the bus full of kids that almost drove off the road that one time. He’d never really interfered with police, not really.

And that’s why, as a teenaged human-like ghost, he was so beloved by the people. Glowing aura and white hair aside, he just seemed like a regular teen. His personality, demeanor, sense of humor, seemed so... normal.

But now, something was off. He seemed more ghost-like than Sarah ever remembered.

For the first time, Danny Phantom looked dangerous.

“Why are you here?” Chief Davis asked.

Phantom looked between the police chief, the body on the ground, and then back to the chief. Something snapped inside him and his face set, his look of panic transforming to deathly calm.

“You need to leave.” Phantom’s voice was cold.

“This is a crime scene. You can’t be here, ghost.”

The aura around Phantom brightened. “No. You need to leave.”

The chief didn’t flinch. “You either step away from the body, or I’ll shoot.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Why? Did you know him?”

Phantom’s eyes widened, and he slowly raised his hand out in front of him.

Chief Davis stepped forward. “Were you the one that killed him?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Phantom said, allowing the acid green to overtake his entire eyes. His hands began to glow. “You need to leave.”

“Phantom, don’t do this. You’re completely surrounded by armed cops who have a much better shot than the ghost hunters you’re used to dealing with. Come quietly, son.”

The ghost let out a hysterical laugh. “Come quietly? Or what, you’ll show up to my house and arrest me? I’m dead! You can’t do anything!”

Chief Davis’ eyes narrowed. “That’s not true and you know it. We’ve turned a blind eye to your vigilantism for over a year. You shoot, and you’ll be an enemy of the city. You won’t be able to haunt Amity Park peacefully any longer.”

The air in front of Phantom crackled with ectoplasm. His hair floated, as if underwater, and he brought up his other arm to share some of the acidic burden.

Sarah shivered, and she felt Atlas press up against her legs.

“I’ll repeat myself one more time: stand down, or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

Phantom gritted his teeth. Conflict played across his features, and it seemed like ages had passed before he finally opened his mouth. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I...I can’t let you take the... that.” He jerked his head to the corpse.

“And why is that?”

“Because…it’s—I…”

Realization hit Sarah like a ton of bricks. She froze, her eyes flickering between the rotting body and the distressed ghost above it.

Of course. It was too obvious.

Before she could stop herself, Sarah’s mouth flew open. “Phantom, is that you?”

It was as if the air were sucked out of the woods completely. Every head snapped towards her. The ghost faltered, the ectoplasmic blast he’d been preparing disappearing into thin air.

Then finally, his shock morphed into fear.

She was right.

“That boy.” Sarah pointed to the body. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

A trembling hand shot up to the ghost’s chest. “You—you can’t...you can’t—”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

The air was getting colder still. Phantom drifted closer to the body, as if to protect it.

Chief Davis lowered his ecto-gun and slowly stepped forward, as if coaxing a feral dog out from a corner. “Look, son, we can find whoever did this to you. We can bring them to justice.”

“You—you don’t understand.”

“No, I think I do. You were a kid, you were scared, and someone did something terrible to you and tried to cover it up in the woods. You’re trying to protect them because you’re still scared, but if there’s someone out there who hurt you, we can help.”

“It’s not like that. You need to leave.”

“You know we can’t do that. This is a crime scene now. We need to bring this—your human body in for investigation.”

Phantom turned down to face the rotting corpse, his face twisting in pain. “Then I have no choice.” He shot down, and had barely touched the body when Mark fired, his ectoblast burying itself in Phantom’s side.

The ghost was thrown back against the tree. “No!” he roared, but it was too late. Cops were on the body, shielding it from the ghost’s view.

Phantom glowed, his eyes turning blue.

“Don’t let him get that corpse!’ Chief Davis shouted, scrambling forward.

Phantom whipped his hand out front, but before he could release his glowing ecto-ice ball, Mark fired again, his blast hitting Phantom square in the eyes.

Blinded, the ghost screamed, unleashing spurts of energy from his mouth.

Sarah hit the ground immediately, covering Atlas’ ears. “It’s the wail!” she yelled.

But before Phantom’s miniature wail could manifest into something deafening, Mark’s partner, Jacob Crowley, fired his taser. It locked onto Phantom’s arm, releasing volts of electricity into the screaming ghost.

Phantom fell to the forest floor, twitching and jerking as his yells projected into the sky above him. And just as soon as it started, it all stopped. The ghost let out one final cry of pain before his head lulled into unconsciousness, and the forest was quiet once again.

Cops were on the ghost at once, locking ecto-inhibitors onto his neck and hands and hoisting him up to be carried out to a vehicle. There was no telling how long the ghost would stay unconscious for. If they were lucky, they could dump him into the back of a police car before he woke up.

Sarah stood, brushing dirt and pebbles from her pants. “Holy shit,” she breathed.

“Everyone alright?” Chief Davis called out. “Any injuries?”

There was a chorus of ‘all clears!’ from around the scene.

“Nice shot, Mark,” Jacob said, putting his taser back in its holster.

“I had no idea tasers worked on ghosts,” Mark said.

“Me too. Lucky guess.”

“Damn right.”

Jacob was a seasoned detective, having worked for APD for fifteen years. Despite the age gap between the duo, he’d taken Mark right under his wing and the two got along swimmingly. What Jacob lacked in physical prowess, Mark made up for. And what Mark—although intelligent—lacked in experience, Jacob made up for tenfold.

“Alright!” Chief Davis announced to the crowd. A hush fell over the scene. “Let’s pick up where we left off. Finish collecting samples, and let’s get the body over to the coroner. Crowley, Abrams, and Johnson, head to the station with Phantom. I want him questioned. The rest of you, back to work!”

Sarah tugged on Atlas’ leash, following Mark and Jacob out of the woods.

“That’s incredible,” Mark said, stepping around the brush and onto the dirt trail. “Who would have thought it’d be Phantom’s body?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty insane to think about,” Sarah agreed. “It was just luck that Atlas stumbled across it too.”

Jacob nodded, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses. The sun peeked through the trees, highlighting his tan face and accenting the small lines that adorned his skin. “Whatever it was, there was clearly a cover up. Now the question remains on whether Phantom remembers what happened or not.”

“I think I remember reading a paper by the Fentons that said ghosts don’t remember the details of their deaths, just the general gist of what happened and the emotions they felt during it. And knowing that Phantom hasn’t exactly spent his time enacting revenge on any one person in particular, it’s unlikely that he remembers who killed him,” Mark said.

“Unless it was an accident.” Jacob ran his hand through his black and grey hair. “Phantom could be protecting them.”

“That could be true,” Sarah said. “It could explain why Phantom was so insistent that we stop investigating.”

“Kids these days…” Jacob muttered.

“Regardless, we’re going to solve this one. No matter what,” Mark said. “Phantom’s been tied to this town for a year, and we’re going to figure out why.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Sarah said, giving a mock salute.

The trio lapsed into silence, and the sounds of their shoes trudging against the dirt and rocks was all that filled the air.

It seemed almost insane that the body was Phantom’s. Though relatively new to Amity, his popularity had grown so quickly that it almost felt as if he'd been a cornerstone of Amity Park for years.

He was the hero, but also a bit of an enigma. He appeared when ghosts attacked, he fought them, said a few bad puns, inevitably won, said a few words to the public, and then would disappear. No one knew where he came from or where he went when he was finished with a fight, just that somehow he’d magically materialize the next time Amity was threatened.

Lately, the public had seen more of him outside of his fights, however. It wasn’t much, but there were the occasional sighting of him lounging around at the park or lazily flying under the moonlight. But even then, the question of “ Who was Phantom really?” remained a mystery.

Not for much longer.

Off in the distance, she spotted the police car in a clearing. “Meet you guys at the station?”

“Where’s your car?” Mark asked. “You need a ride?”

“Nah, mine’s just down the path a bit further. It’s fine, we can walk. Besides, I want to talk to Erin first before I leave.”

Mark glanced at Jacob, and then nodded. “Okay, see you there.”

---

Mark Johnson was a gifted kid. He grew up in the honors classes, graduated top of his class at the police academy, and was promoted to a detective after just five years on the force, the minimum requirement to be considered for detective positions in his department.

He was a quick thinker with a keen eye for detail, and he knew it.

Which is why when he hopped in the passenger’s seat of his vehicle to see an absolutely irate overpowered teenage ghost already awake in the back seat, he realized that he had absolutely no idea what the protocol was.

He’d been warned that the ghost was awake. “The fucker bites,” grumbled one of the city cops as Mark had walked by. Yes, he knew what he was walking into. But for some reason, it never occurred to him that dealing with a ghost may be different than a human. And why would it be different? Phantom may have been a dead teen, but he was still a teen. Teens were dumb, they were moody, they said and did impulsive things.

And yet, when he looked into Phantom’s glowering eyes, he instantly saw just out of depth he was.

Because although their training had covered ghosts—after all, this was Amity Park—the training always had to do with how destructive ghosts were, the best places to shoot them, how to maintain their ecto-guns, etc.

But talking to ghosts? Interacting with them?

Cuffing them and sticking them in the back of a vehicle to transport for questioning?

Yeah, the books didn’t have much to say about that.

Crowley’s gruff voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Alright, let’s go.” His partner slid into his seat and jammed his keys into the ignition.

“Right,” Mark said awkwardly, glancing back at the teen ghost.

Up close, Mark could see just how powerful this ghost was. He was small, even for a teen, but even without his powers he still emitted an aura that screamed danger.

Crowley pulled out of the parking lot, merging onto the road. Despite the obvious tension the ghost was building behind him, the veteran cop didn’t seem phased. He reached over and fiddled with his car stereo.

“You got any station you like?” Crowley asked, raising his voice.

The ghost didn’t respond, instead opting to continue simmering in his seat.

“I hope you don’t mind rock.” Crowley raised the volume, and the sounds of 80’s guitar filled the empty space in the car. “I got a kid about your age you know. Well, maybe a little younger. What are you, fourteen?”

The ghost’s eyes narrowed. “Fifteen.”

Mark blinked, surprised at how normal the ghost’s tone seemed to sound compared to the frantic echoing in the forest.

“Ah, well, close enough,” Crowley continued. “Anyways, she’s obsessed with this new stuff. What’s it called, Kpop? Tpop? Something like that. Plays it around the house all the time. I can’t stand it. I’ll never tell her that, but the modern pop shit just gives me a headache.”

Phantom’s eyes shifted over to the window.

“Johnson over here doesn’t agree.” Crowley nodded over to Mark. “He listens to that garbage all the time.”

Mark felt his face heat up. “I listen to electronic music. It’s a completely different genre.”

“Still sounds like crap, though.”

“Whatever you say, old man.”

Crowley scoffed, but otherwise kept silent. He was a good natured man with an unquestionable wit and preference for the “good old days.” But fortunately, he could take it just as well as he could dish it.

“I know it seems bad now, but eventually you’ll be thankful that dog found your body. We’ll be able to bring you justice,” Mark said.

“I don’t want justice. I want to be left alone.”

The car lapsed into silence, but it wasn’t a comfortable one. No matter how hard Mark tried, it was impossible to ignore the glowing, angry teen in the seat behind him. He wondered how much of that was because Phantom was the town’s ghost celebrity and how much was due to the fact that Phantom’s aura seemed to swallow the air around it.

Was the ghost somehow...projecting his irritation out to Mark and his partner? Could he even do that? Mark knew he was a powerful being, but was emotion manipulation one of his powers?

Phantom was the one to break the silence. “Where are you taking me?”

“To the station, of course,” Crowley answered easily.

“And the GIW?” the ghost asked, his voice tense.

Mark and Crowley exchanged a glance.

“Well…” Crowley started. “That depends on what happens when we get there.”

“What?”

Crowley hummed, stroking his brown and silver mustache. “Technically we have to turn you over to the Ghost Investigation Ward, but considering you’re a key witness on this case, I can’t say I’m so keen on turning you over. At least, not quite yet.”

“Great.” Phantom leaned back in his seat. “So let me see if I’m getting this right. You’re going to use me to figure out who this big bad mystery killer is, and then you’re going to dump me over to the government?”

“Not exactly. Think of it more like, your fate depends on your cooperation in this case.”

Phantom groaned. “I’m so fucked.”

“Why do you say that?” Mark asked.

“Because I’m boring. You guys think there’s some terrible person at large, when spoiler alert! It was just me.”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “A suicide?”

“Sure, whatever you call it.” Phantom’s shoulders rose to his ears, and his face flushed green. “I...offed myself, okay? It’s boring.”

“That still doesn’t explain how your body ended up buried in the woods,” Mark commented.

“Does it matter?

“Well, it would make you a liar. So yes, I’d say it matters,” Crowley said.

Phantom lurched forward in his seat. “I’m not lying.”

“Then explain to me how your body ended up in the woods. You can’t have done it to yourself. There was an accomplice there. And if that’s the case, I’d be hard pressed to find out from the coroner if it was actually a suicide or, say, something else that you’re not telling us.”

“I’ve told you everything I know,” grumbled Phantom. “I’m not lying.”

Mark exchanged a look with Crowley before he twisted around, looking at the ghost directly. “Listen, I know how difficult this is. What happened to you was traumatic, I’m sure. We’re on your side here. We want to help you.”

Phantom averted his gaze.

“You had your whole life ahead of you. It’s not fair to you that it was cut so short. You never got the chance to grow up, right?”

“I don’t care about that,” Phantom hissed. He jerked his head up, and despite the ecto-inhibitors, the ghost’s eyes growed a ferocious green. “Shut up, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mark saw Crowley stiffen next to him.

“Phantom, listen to me. If you help us, we can help resolve this situation. Bring peace to your death.”

“Just so you can ship me off to the GIW, right? As per law?” Phantom straightened in his seat, his aura around him shining impossibly bright. “Forget it. I’ve decided I’m done with you assholes.”

“Wait! What are you—”

The ghost yelled and yanked his arms out, breaking the chain between his ecto-infused cuffs.

Mark scrambled in his seat for his ecto-gun, but Phantom was too fast. Before Mark could blink, the ghost disappeared.

Crowley slammed on the breaks, and the vehicle swerved, rolling onto a grassy field next to the highway. A few cars honked as they passed on by.

Mark panted in his seat, his head spinning wildly as he searched for the ghost, but it was no use. Phantom was gone. There was no trace of him in the sky.

“Holy shit,” the normally calm senior detective breathed. “Holy shit.”

“He just broke out of the ecto-inhibitors. How did he do that?”

Crowley unbuckled his seatbelt and stumbled out of the car. He yanked open the back door and stared at the empty seat.

“Holy shit.”

---

As soon as Sarah stepped through her front door, she knew something was wrong. Even without Atlas’ growled warning, the air felt off. It was cold, reminiscent of the chilling temperature from a ghost attack.

“Who’s there?” Sarah said, her hand reaching for her ecto-gun. “Show yourself.”

“You were the one that found my body, right?” Phantom popped into visibility. He floated an inch above the couch, his legs crossed and chin propped on his fist. “You and your dog found it.”

That wasn’t a question. He knew.

And he looked pissed.

Sarah stood by the door, debating her chances if she ran. Phantom could fly faster than she could run, and if she tried to escape, who knew how he’d react. She wouldn’t make it far.

“Well?” He pressed at her silence. “I’m right. Just admit it.”

“Yes.” Her lips barely moved.

Atlas gave another low growl.

“How.”

That wasn’t a question either.

“By chance,” she said.

He crossed his arms. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

Her fingers twitched. If she could only reach her phone without him noticing, she might be able to call the emergency line. She could get their conversation recorded, and she could also get help.

She just needed to distract him. “I was taking my dog for a walk. He went off the trail, and found your body.”

“Just like that? You just happened to stumble across it?”

“Well, Atlas here is a trained cadaver dog. This is his specialty.”

The ghost furrowed his brows. He slumped, running his fingers through his stark white hair. “But I thought I—” he huffed. “I thought I put it deep enough.”

Sarah was taken aback. “What do you mean, Phantom? You buried your own body?”

“Of course!” He shot forward. “I had to.”

“Why?”

“I—I just…” He seemed to realize that he’d said too much, and he sulked back to the couch. “I just had to. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, her brain struggling to work through the implications of that. “So does that mean nobody knows you’re dead?”

That puzzled look draped Phantom’s face once again, and he looked down at the carpet. Silence stretched between the duo, before Phantom muttered, “I don’t know.”

Even though her instincts were telling her to run, to pick up the phone and call for backup, something pulled her forward. She apprehensively made her way to the couch that Phantom was hovering just inches above, and sat down beside him. To her surprise, Phantom followed her lead, lowering himself onto the cushioned surface.

It was truly amazing how without his flared aura and powerful persona, Phantom really looked no different than any other teen. He was lost, confused, hurt.

Scared.

“Why don’t you want the police investigating this case?” Sarah asked.

“I just…” Phantom face screwed up as if he were sucking on a lemon. “It’s complicated.”

“What makes it complicated?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“Okay.” Trying to get Phantom to talk was like pulling teeth. “But you know that the police have to investigate, right? Legally?”

That got a reaction out of Phantom. His eyes brightened, and his mouth set into a snarl. “But that’s stupid! It’s my body, what gives them the right to mess with it? I thought people got to choose whether or not they wanted to press charges. I’m here and I’m telling you guys that I don’t want to press charges, that it was my fault I was ki—I died in the first place, and I buried my own fucking corpse in the woods!”

Sarah felt her jaw tighten. For once, she didn’t know how to respond.

“Aren’t there like laws that give people rights to their body post-mortem or something? I’m here and I don’t consent to my body being messed with, so shouldn’t that count enough?”

Studies on ecto-psychology were lacking, and conflicted more than not, if Sarah were honest. She knew that ghosts functioned differently than humans, and she knew that some ghosts were more intelligent than others, but she also knew that ghosts, due to their Obsessions, were easily swept into delusion.

Phantom was a ghost. He wasn’t a person, he didn’t have rights like humans did.

But he clearly thought he did. Or at least, he thought he deserved them.

And Sarah wasn’t knowledgeable enough to understand where the line between true cognitive function and delusion lied.

Instead, she settled for the next best thing. “True, but those laws don’t hold if a crime took place.”

Phantom groaned. “Oh for the last time, there was no crime! It was just me!”

“But the police don’t know that.”

“I just told them!” He threw his hands up. “Literally right before I got here!”

“Yes but—” You’re a ghost. “—were you even reported deceased? Does your family know what happened to you? Your parents?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.”

“No,” he fumed. “No, it doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t.”

Sarah peered at the teen. His brows were pinched tightly together, and he was glaring at the ground. His mouth twitched, as if to elaborate, but then his jaw clamped back up and whatever thought nearly passed through his lips were locked again.

Death was a sensitive subject for ghosts, and Sarah knew that just as well as anyone else. But there was something else there, something Phantom didn’t want to admit. Something that he was hiding.

But why? Was he trying to forget his living family? His old friends? What would drive a person to do that?

Was it abuse?

“Phantom,” Sarah said gently. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me about what happened to you, and I understand that the memories from your past can be painful. It’s okay that you have a lot of complicated feelings—”

“I don’t,” he cut in. “I don’t have complicated feelings. I’m—I’m just a ghost. We don’t…” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake.”

“Wait, Phantom—”

He darted up and out of the chair. “No. I don’t remember my past and it doesn’t matter to me now. Please, tell your friends to stop investigating. It’s over, I don’t care. I just want my body back.”

Sarah stood. “Hang on, Phantom. Why don’t we go down to the station and talk about this together?”

Without so much as a glance behind him, Phantom disappeared, taking the cool chill that had permeated her living room with him.

“He’s hiding something,” Sarah told Atlas, who hovered protectively near her legs. “He’s definitely hiding something. The question is, what?”

---

“You guys really gave me an interesting one this time,” Williams, the coroner, said, adjusting his glasses. “Assuming this is Phantom’s body, the boy did not have a peaceful end.”

“What happened to him?” Mark said, peering down at the sallow remains of the corpse.

“Well, looking at some of the protruding bones, I noticed something rather interesting. It’s hard to make out, but on what’s left of his skin you can see some interesting lines.”

Mark squinted down, trying to pick out whatever the corner was looking at.

“Yeah, the body’s not in great shape, and so the cause of death can’t be determined for certain. But if you look closely, you can see what appears to be some sort of lightning scarring on his body, along with burn marks and tearing along the rest of his body.”

Mark looked up, puzzled. “You mean...he was electrocuted?”

“Most likely. That, or the electrocution took place just before his death,” the doctor said.

Mark stood for a moment, stumped. He’d expected the boy to have died of something more common in teens, like stab wounds or gunshot wounds. But electrocution?

Crowley leaned in, inspecting the body. “He could have been in an accident. That could explain why he was so angry about us investigating. Whoever covered up his death was likely a close friend or family member.”

“Damn,” Mark rested his back against the wall. “And that means he’s probably gone off to tell whoever was with him about this investigation, which will give them all time to prepare their stories.”

“Assuming there even was a someone else,” Crowley pointed out. “For all we know, Phantom could have been by himself.”

“What, so he buried his own dead body in the woods?”

Crowley shrugged. “He can interact with human objects, can he not?”

Mark grimaced, trying to chase away the mental images of a dead fifteen year old ghost digging his own grave.

“That’s pretty dark.”

“Oh!” The old man jumped up, moving to the corpse once again. “But you haven’t even gotten to the best part! This corpse is simply incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it, truly. I thought my scales were all broken, had to go measure other objects just to be sure. But the science doesn’t lie on this one! Simply fascinating.”

“What is it?” Crowley’s gruff voice slashed through the bubbly coroner’s rambling.

“Well,” Williams picked up a clipboard on the table. “Take a look for yourselves. Phantom’s human body just...doesn’t add up. That’s the only way I can describe it. His bones are significantly lighter than they should be.”

“How is that possible?”

“I have no idea. Even if our victim had osteoporosis, I’ve never seen bones this light before. And here’s another catch, is that even though they’re light and porous, they seem almost stronger than a regular bone.”

“This doesn’t make sense.” Mark peered down at the kid once again. He looked entirely unrecognizable from the hero in the skies. His skin was decayed, and—

“Hang on, is that black hair?” Mark pointed to the cadaver’s skull. “Phantom has white hair.”

Williams clasped his hands. “Yes! I nearly forgot about that one. Again, assuming this is Phantom’s body, it seems he had black hair when he was alive. I believe the hair samples, fingerprints, and other samples are already in the labs being tested. Hopefully they can pull a match—”

“Yup, they’re being tested as we speak. In a few hours, we can ID Phantom’s human body and put this whole case to rest,” Crowley said.

“I just wonder why his hair turned white. It must be some ghostly attribute. It makes me wonder what else about Phantom’s body changed, although he looks about the same height as his human counterpart. I wonder how much alteration is chosen by him and how much is ghost biology.”

“You’ll have to ask the Fentons about that,” Mark said.

Crowley scoffed. “Those lunatics? Please.”

“They may be lunatics, but they know their stuff.”

“I’d rather ask the GIW for help than the Fentons,” Crowley said, rolling his eyes. “Which speaking of, since we don’t yet have concrete evidence that this is Phantom’s body, the Ghost Investigation Ward hasn’t been summoned. But if the labs come back with some solid evidence, then this case may be taken out of our hands.”

Mark refrained from cursing. Internally, he knew that would be a likely outcome. But this was such a big case, and although he never voiced his opinion at work, he had always been a bit of a Phantom fan.

Well, aside from some of the vigilantism that the ghost participated in. Although well intentioned, at the end of the day Phantom was a teenager. They weren’t exactly known for thinking through the consequences before jumping headfirst into situations.

“Have they been alerted at all?” Mark asked.

“Not yet. But we’ll see when the labs come back.”

Mark nodded, studying the misshapen body. It wouldn’t be that easy though, would it? This was Phantom they were talking about. Surely the ghost wouldn’t have just let the police keep his corpse for so long unless he was confident that nothing would come out of this.

Surely he had a plan.

---

“What do you mean he showed up at your house?” Mark’s alarmed voice sounded from the other line.

Sarah pinched her cell between her ear and her shoulder. Hands free, she picked up a rag and began drying off her damp dinner plate. “Just what I said. He showed up at my house after he escaped from the police van and he told me that he buried his own body.”

“Why would he admit that to you? He didn’t even fess that much up to us. He must know that you’d talk to us.”

“Perhaps.” Sarah slotted the plate back in her cabinet. “I wonder if a part of him was almost relieved to tell me.”

“Did he mention anything about who he was with? He’s definitely protecting someone.”

“No, and honestly I’m not sure if anyone else knows about him. Mark, this seems like an accidental death. Did you get the coroner’s report yet?”

“Yup, death via electrocution, or at least that’s their best guess. A pretty gruesome way to go if you ask me.”

She paused, her hand frozen reaching for the dripping pot on her counter. Electrocution? That was certainly a rare case.

“It’s probably how he became a ghost,” Sarah said. “Ghosts form from tragic deaths, right? Electrocution is intense enough to form a ghost from.”

“You could be onto something. Depending on the lab results, we may have to call in the experts on this one.”

“The GIW?”

Mark hesitated. “We might...try to keep them out of this one. We’re trying to get Phantom to cooperate with us on this case. If they get involved, that’s sure to scare him off.”

“That’s smart.” Sarah wiped the now damp cloth along the base of the pot. “Did he say anything in the car with you before he ran off?”

“A bit, not too much though. Crowley tried to warm him up, but the ghost was too suspicious of us. Though, he did get defensive when we implied he was lying about his death.”

She internally groaned. That would explain why he seemed so pissed when he got to her house.

Well, that among other reasons.

“You’re an idiot. Did no one ever tell you that ghosts are sensitive about their deaths?”

“Hey, it’s not like ghost psychology is a part of our training!” Mark defended. “Hence why we’ll likely need to call in an expert.”

“Well maybe it should be,” Sarah mused. On her own, she’d admit that she’d read more than a few papers on ghosts on her own time. In such a short amount of time, ghosts had cemented themselves as an integral part of Amity Park. In her mind, the police would be remiss not to do their homework on ghosts too.

Although, the state didn’t care much about how much training police received on anything, much less human and ghost psychology. It had only been due to her sister taking the career path as a social worker that Sarah had any expert knowledge on how to handle cases of behavioral outbursts in severe cases of mental health.

But she was just one person in a sea of other cops, detectives, and other professionals in law enforcement. And unfortunately for them, ignorance was a plague in law enforcement.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he got pretty defensive with me too.”

“What happened?”

“Like with you, he left before I could really get anything out of him. But when I asked who knew about his death, he just told me that he didn’t remember anyone from his past life.”

Mark was silent on the other line.

“Yeah, I don’t believe him either.” Sarah put away the last dish and hung her kitchen towel back along the side of her oven. She pulled her phone out from her shoulder and continued, saying, “I’ve been doing some research since then and I read Maddie Fenton’s recent paper on ghost cognition. Now I know her specialty is biology, but she’s actually really onto something here.”

“Give me the rundown, Adams.”

“The paper’s basically an analysis of over a dozen recordings she’s taken while out on the field interacting with and following cognitive ghosts, as in ghosts who can at least hold a basic conversation. Her findings are essentially that there is a correlation between higher power ghosts and their memories, although she said age of the ghost could affect this as well. She said a level six ectoplasmic ghost Ember showed vivid signs of remembering certain details of her high school memories including a teenage boy and her desires of fame, as well as a pair of level five biker ghosts she encountered, who wanted to relive their days road tripping together.”

“And what’s Phantom’s level?” Mark asked.

“According to the Ghost Investigation Ward, Phantom was classified as a level seven specter.”

“And yet he said he didn’t remember anything? Well, that’s not exactly surprising. We’re investigating his death, which he doesn’t seem too happy about. It’s no wonder he’s willing to lie about that. Especially if my theory is right in that he’s protecting someone.”

Sarah sat down at her kitchen table and drummed her fingers against the wooden surface. Off in the distance, she could hear Atlas chewing on a bone.

“But that can’t be the only reason you brought this up, is it?” Mark’s tentative voice sounded from the other line.

“Yeah I just.” Sarah sighed. “I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s not just hiding this because he wants to protect anyone from the police. I don’t know...I just think there’s something deeper at play here.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll find out tomorrow. Lab reports should be in by then.”

“Tomorrow? That’s a bit delayed, isn’t it?”

“Yeah well apparently they got corrupted.” Mark sighed in audible annoyance. “Forensic ran all the samples and all of them showed errors. Nothing was usable.”

“You think someone sabotaged it on purpose?” Sarah asked.

“Most likely. But we have plenty of samples, so whoever’s trying to delay this won’t get far. If it happens again, the head of the department will get involved. Either way, we’ll know who Phantom is sooner than he’d like.”

“Well, I’ll keep my finger’s crossed.”

“Talk to you later, Abrams.”

---

Nothing felt right.

His body was hot and cold. It tingled, ached, was numb. Anxiety surrounded him like a blanket, wrapping his body in its arms.

He was trapped.This was wrong.

Nothing felt real.

Danny didn’t understand at first. He just knew he had to leave his room and he had to go somewhere. It was instinct, pure instinct. He couldn’t explain how he knew to teleport or where he was going, but he knew.

And then it was worse than what he could have imagined.

It had been two days since the police found his...his…

Body. It was his body.

Danny twisted his t-shirt in his hands. He wanted to stand up and walk out of the room, but if he did that then Lancer would ask questions and Danny didn’t know how to deal with that. As it stood, he was barely holding onto his human form. His core was aching to transform, to let his ghost half take over. He knew that if a single thing went wrong, his core would simply override his stubborn willpower and transform anyway, class be damned.

Because his core didn’t care about Shakespear or whatever playwright of the week Lancer had decided upon. His core only knew one thing: that his body was in the hands of the police.

And that the police were...ugh. Danny didn’t even want to think about it.

He wasn’t a science experiment to be tested upon, he was a person. A person who deserved to be treated with respect. A person who deserved to be left alone.

And yet those detectives don’t care. They’re mocking you. They’re poking and prodding at you. Are you going to take this? It's YOUR body. You need it back. Just take it. They can’t stop you, it’s YOURS.

But they could stop him. And Danny knew this because he’d already tried last night, and he couldn’t even get close to his body.

Stupid ghost shields, stupid GiW, stupid anti-ghost tech around the morgue.

It had only been a few days, and yet to Danny it felt like it had been a year. The fact that he had managed to go to school at all today he considered a huge accomplishment. Even if he hadn’t even managed to open his notebook in any of his classes, much less remember if he’d been assigned detention or not for missing homework. Knowing him, he probably had.

But that didn’t matter to him. Not now, and possibly not ever again.

His future was one bad day away from being over. By the end of the week, he could be property of the US government. What would Shakespear or the quadratic formula matter to him then? If he was strapped to a lab table for the rest of his half-life?

Mr. Lancer called out to him, but Danny didn’t respond. He felt a hand dully poke his shoulder, and he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t look up from his desk, he couldn’t open his book, he couldn’t do this.

His body moved on its own. Standing up, walking out of the classroom, ignoring the protests of his teacher or the laughter of his classmates.

He couldn’t do this.

School didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was ensuring his safety, and to do that he needed to get his body back.

He pushed a side door open, transforming nearly as soon as he stepped out the door. He felt the tug at his core, and he followed his instincts to a brick building not too far from the police station.

There. That must have been the morgue.

That was where his body was.

He landed, and stared at the entrance of the brick building. He wanted to step forward, to reach out and rip open the doors. He wanted so badly to fly through, take his body, and go home.

But he could see it. It was invisible to him in his human form, but there was a faint ripple around the building.

And there was his problem. The building was locked to those who didn’t have a keycard access, so Danny couldn’t just walk in as a human, but he couldn’t phase in due to the ghost shield around the building.

Which meant that he had to stand outside and wait for someone to let him in. Which was never going to happen.

He crossed his arms, glaring at the brick building. He could try to destroy the outside of the building, thus hopefully destroying the shield, but that could potentially endanger the people inside.

Not to mention his body. If the building fell, he could harm his body. Which he would rather die again than let that happen.

His core tugged impatiently, desperate for Danny to reunite with his other half. But he couldn’t.

It was impossible.

A car pulled up behind him, but Phantom didn’t pay it any mind. He stood, staring at the building. He needed to figure out a way inside. If he could only get inside then he could solve everything.

“Phantom?” a familiar voice called out from behind him.

Danny ignored the voice. No one else mattered, he just needed to get inside.

“Phantom, I need you to step away from the building,” the voice said.

Danny shushed the voice, glaring at the door.

He was so close and now someone was going to ruin it for him. He was just one stupid shield away. If he turned human and phased through the door, the shield would clock him the moment he activated his powers.

No, this was no good.

“Come on, Phantom. Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” a second familiar voice piped up.

“I need to get inside,” Danny finally said.

“No you don’t. Trust me, you need to step away from the building.”

Danny ignored the voice. It was so annoying. It didn’t understand what he needed. “I have something inside. I need it back.”

“I know, bud,” the original voice said. “But I can’t let you get inside. You know this.”

“Why not?” Phantom finally turned around to be faced with the two cops from the other day. To his surprise, neither of them had their weapons raised. “Why not let me inside? It’s my body. Mine. Not yours.”

“This is an investigation,” the older cop, Crowley, said.

Danny narrowed his eyes, allowing the glow to flair. “I didn’t ask to be investigated.”

The younger cop, Johnson, nodded. “I know, but we have to. I know you don’t understand, but it’s our duty to investigate all missing kids, including you.”

Danny glanced back to the building. If he could only find a way inside, he could just forget these past few days had ever happened. He could forget about the cops, he could forget about the stupid investigation, the fact that the GIW would likely find out he’s a halfa, the increasing possibility of him becoming a lab experiment, all of it.

If he could just get inside.

“Why don’t you come back to the station with us. We can talk more there and you can tell us why you don’t want to be found. Look, no guns and no cuffs this time. It’s up to you. If you want to talk, it’s on your terms,” Johnson said.

“It’s not,” Danny whispered. “It’s not my terms. None of this is my terms.” He glared back at the officers, his voice getting louder. “Why won’t you take the hint? Just stop all of this. Stop investigating, stop sticking your nose in other people’s business. Let me have my body back, please, just let me see it just for a moment. I just—I...I need to see it. I need it.”

Crowley shook his head. “No can do. Sorry, Phantom.”

“This is stupid. This is so fucking—ugh!” Danny threaded his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do this.”

“Wait—”

Danny didn’t wait for Johnson to finish his statement. He shot to the sky, trying to ignore the stinging in his eyes. It was just the crisp air against his face, wasn’t it? He wasn’t getting emotional over this.

That would be ridiculous. He wasn’t helpless, he was going to figure this out. He’d gotten himself in this predicament, he could get himself out of it.

He just needed to figure out a way into the building. Then he could get his body back, he could hide it somewhere far away, somewhere nobody would ever find it, and then everything could go back to the way it was.

That was it. He could do this.

Right?

---

Mark studied the files slack-jawed.

There was just no way this was possible. Even with Amity Park’s high concentration of ghosts, he’d never seen anything like this before.

“They ran them again?” Mark said, looking up at Crowley. “They ran them again and they still got this?”

“Yup.” Crowley’s typical lackadaisical expression was replaced with something more hard-set. “Labs re-ran all tests and still got nothing but errors.”

“But I don’t understand. How is this possible?” Mark held up the lab results in his hands. “How is it that every single molecule of Phantom’s human body was covered in ectoplasm? Right down to the DNA?”

Crowley leaned against the wall. “In all my years as a detective, this is a first for me.”

“It must be someone working for him, right?” Mark said. “The science doesn’t lie.”

“No, indeed the science doesn’t lie,” Williams said, rounding the corner of the station. He placed a manila folder and a coffee mug down on the empty conference table and offered them a cheerful grin. “Interesting reports, eh?”

“Please tell me you’re here to explain these,” Mark said, raising the files in his hand.

“Yeah.” Crowley stroked his silver mustache. “I’d certainly like to know what exactly is so interesting about corrupted DNA reports.”

“We can’t even ID the victim with these.”

Williams’ smile grew, and his face crinkled in delight. “See, that’s where you’re wrong! Now, we might not be able to ID the human body that this boy once inhabited, but at the very least we can officially confirm that it’s Phantom’s body.”

“Explain,” Crowley said.

Williams opened the manila folder and began shuffling through the papers inside. “There was a substance in particular that was messing up all the lab results, so forensics investigated further and found that it was ectoplasm. And when they tried to remove it to isolate only the organic material they found that they couldn’t.”

“How?” Mark asked.

“Because the ectoplasm had fused with the body’s DNA.” Williams lifted a piece of paper like a proud parent showing off their child’s report card. “I got some more samples and had forensics run tests on all different body parts, and found that every single cell had its own DNA corrupted with ectoplasm. And when we ran the ectosignature through the database, we found an exact match to Phantom’s own ectosignature.”

“So this was really Phantom.” Crowley didn’t sound surprised by the revelation.

“Bingo,” Williams said.

“But this doesn’t really make sense,” Mark insisted. “If this level of DNA corruption happened during ghost formation, surely we would have records of other bodies like this as well.”

Williams tapped his head with his finger. “Maybe we do, and we just don’t know. Phantom is a powerful ghost, is he not? Perhaps this DNA corruption can only occur in powerful ghost formations, and perhaps Phantom is the first powerful ghost with a body we’ve found and have been able to run our equipment on in modern times.”

“Maybe…” Mark’s voice drifted. He wasn’t sure if it was something Sarah Abrams had said to him on the phone, but he felt like there was a large piece of the puzzle he was missing.

He sighed, placing his manila folder down on the table. “I think it’s time to call in the experts.”

Crowley stared at him, his typically crinkled eyes widening to that of a bug. “You don’t mean…”

“Yup,” Mark said. “It’s time to bring in the Fentons.”

---

[part 2]