#who have shared in the horrors of what jacks seen and done

[lailuhhh]

Mmmmm thoughts for you

In your army days series, what would Jack do if he has to pick between his mission and Mac? (How did they get into that situation?) He’s still a soldier and has to do his duty and yet this is Mac.

Just wanted your thoughts on this :))

HMMMM

I may be heavily influenced by JStar8 as of right now, but Jack would choose Mac. Every time

Definitely more so after Mac initially saved him from that IED he stumbled on, because before that, Jack chose him out of a sense of duty because Mac was his responsibility, and was a dumb kid that didn’t know how the world worked and it served as a kinda teaching moment(?) or something like that

But after that, it was a different sense of duty, like after learning how shit of a childhood Mac had, Jack figured he had to show Mac that there are actually good people in the world

Of course there were horribly difficult decisions, like Mac+Stranger-Jack where Jack had to choose the mission to keep Mac safe,

But like if they were out and like in a big firefight or whatever, and Jack had to make the decision of Get The Bad Guy or Save Mac, it’s Mac. 100% it’s always going to be Mac

Honestly though, Jack doesn’t really ever have to make any big decisions, because if there’s anything where Mac’s involved, he’s going to choose whatever option will keep him safe in the long haul

[stargirl-and-potts]

Ed called himself the devil, and the crew his kids, like he was making them into some absurd legend of the high seas. And he kept up a hell of a theater. Everything the crew had asked Stede for at the start, everything they’d seemed to revere in Ed — he produced it tenfold. He looked just like the myth, the monster, the terror, and he made them the same. He did everything to show the world that caricature Izzy demanded. And Edward watched his step, and cried behind closed doors, and didn’t speak. Edward wasn’t seen on deck once after Izzy told him to put him away.

And then after they “talk it through,” and Ed knows decisively he’s failed even this — even his best performance — then he washes his face, and puts his hair up, and shows up smiling and soft-faced to steer them straight into the storm. I think that was Edward on deck, giving up at last on watching his step. Not the Kraken — Edward in despair, because his best bravura performance of the theater of fear couldn’t save or satisfy anyone. And he knew it never would — if they went on like that they’d all die anyway, on someone’s sword, or on the end of the noose.

When he asked Izzy to enlighten him on where he’d gone wrong I do think he wanted to offer Izzy one last chance to admit he didn’t want what he’d demanded from him. But I don’t think he had any real hope that Izzy did regret that. He believed Izzy was going to continue to believe in brutality, to require his performance of Blackbeard until they all mutinied or died, and that no one would stop him; that no one wanted just Ed.

And Izzy then says again to his face that it’s love that ruined everything, not the monstrous performance overtaking their humanity, and that’s what puts Ed over the edge.

He wants the crew to kill Izzy for saying love has ruined them, since he can’t. And when they don’t, he wants Izzy to kill him. (Izzy seems to love that he wants that from him; he beams, and he seems flustered to find he can’t quite do it. He adores that Ed wouldn’t ask anyone else — one final intimacy of shared despair, the death of both their humanity, and he can’t pull it out of himself. He pretends it’s Ed that’s the coward, still.)

And since Izzy won’t end him, Ed steers into the storm, puts on his brightest, bravest performance of Ed the madman, but for once it’s a performance he believes in. He wants the crew to despair of him, the way he has. He wants them to fear him the way he does. He wants their horror, their hatred, as well as his own, if he can’t have anyone’s heart.

I think he wants Jim to fight him instead of Archie — to prove to him that love means something to someone on this ship. And maybe he thinks Jim and the rest deserve to die with him if they won’t put him down and save their loves and spare the world from him. But his euphoric “Finally” makes me think he trusts they will — that they’ll see he shouldn’t live and spare him the decision. That anyone can see he’s earned his end.

It’s horrible, but it’s all he believes is real any more — that there isn’t a place for him on this earth, that the albatross can never land, and that the only peace he’ll get is to be sent under the waves like his father before him, like Hornigold and Jack and the rest — to go down to where the monsters sink when the world is done with them. And when Izzy decides Ed’s request for death is justified, and returns shot for shot, instead of saying he was wrong — Ed is glad. When the rest of the crew finishes what Izzy can’t, Ed welcomes their despair of him. He can’t keep tallying the days on his wall. He can’t bear any more hope.

Which is why I love that we saw in the end, in the in-between, he wasn’t really ready to go. In the quiet of his own soul, without any eyes on him, he was still trying to kill the Hornigold in him who said this is all he was, that he would never be good for anything else, that dying was all he could hope for.

And it’s why I love that Stede didn’t meet him at the surface, in the open air— he dove down into the depths with him. He brought the light with him; he changed the waters from a nightmare into a dream. Ed went from sinking to weightless, just because he realized that there in the depths one person still wanted Edward — one person believed in his love.

[zayray030]

VERY Random:

Ace has a boyfriend that goes to a different school.

NRC and *insert school name* are having a joint event.

Everyone notices that Ace seems a little more upbeat, after the announcement, but they don't really pay any attention to it.

Then the day of the event arrives, and everyone is shocked to see Ace rush into the arm of a random, handsome guy from the other school.

Honestly, they should have seen this coming.

Ace had been too obedient, too quiet and far too nice. They should have suspected that something was going on or at the very least knew what Ace stood to gain from all of it.

However, they weren't about to look a gift house in the mouth. So they all played along with it and accepted the change of personality. Of course some were opposed.

For example, Floyd was upset that he no longer had someone to okay pranks with or tease Ace as he used to. However, others like Riddle were ecstatic and received by the change, however, they were still concerned about the change.

However, the last thing they expected was for Ace to run into the arms of a tall, built brunette, lips locking together.

In the background you can hear Riddle screeching in horror, as he analyses Ace's past behaviour and realises that Ace had been a little too blushy and happy about the new event happening between schools. He watches as Ace smiles happily in another man's arms he can't help but feel grateful for him and the change he's done for Ace.

Trey's big brother instincts want to kick in and peel Ace of the other teen but Ace looks so happy he can't help but feel proud.

Cater is...conflicted. he's jealous obviously and honestly a tad hurt that Ace didn't trust him enough to tell him about his boyfriend.

Deuce is also a little hurt that Ace didn't trust him to tell him about his boyfriend and is also kicking himself for not asking Ace about what was going on.

Leona is mildly shocked that Ace managed to hide his boyfriend for so long and that nobody knew about him and he's lowkey impressed by it.

Ruggie wants Ace in in his schemes because clearly the young boy can keep a secret

Jack is also kicking himself for not realising what was going on in the first place. He's so happy for Ace though for finding his soulmate

Azul wants to thank the man for subconsciously managing to get Ace to agree to working for Azul again.

Floyd is so mad. That should be him with Ace. That should be him holding him. That should he him kissing him.

Jade just comforts his brother. He is impressed by Ace's ability to hide things but that doesn't overshadow his worry over his brother.

Kalim is so happy for Ace. He's a little confused that Ace had to hide his relationship but he's so proud of Ace for finding someone who loves him

Jamil is also jealous. A part of him wants to drag Ace of off the other guy but he knows that he has no business doing so. So, he waits in the background, waiting for his opportunity

Vil is impressed by who Ace managed to bag and that he was able to keep this a secret. He can't help but wonder if he'll be able to convince Ace try a few outfits and disguising him as stuff for his boyfriend

Rook is also slightly jealous and he can't help but want to stalk the other guy and see if he is truly worthy of Ace.

Epel is so happy for Ace. He threw a whole celebration for him and tearfully said that he's proud that someone managed to look past Ace's stubbornness and fall in love. He and Ace get into a whole cat fight and have to be pried of off each other by the other first years.

Idia is also slightly jealous. He's been trying to ask Ace out. And suddenly this buff guy managed to get Ace and he can't help but feel so so so jealous.

Ortho is a little upset. Honestly he wanted Ace and his brother to go out. But then, he gets over it and does a background check on the guy and then he's EXTREMELY happy that Ace manages to get such an amazing guy.

Malleus is confused but he shares his congratulations towards the happy couple.

Lilia is pouty. HE wanted to go out with Ace but now someone else is. He tries getting over it because at the end of the day he wants Ace's happiness.

Silver is too spacey to realise a change in the others behaviour. And now he's just happy that Ace is happy.

Sebek is in shock at such blatant signs of attention. The shameless act of it all. And now Sebek is slightly happy for Ace.

[dsafstevenfanclub]

Catch me in the Phone guy and others server that I made straight up kissing it. And by "it" I mean Steven Stevenson

[No I didn't send this ask because I didn't know how to tell you guys I had a Phone guy and others server haha what are you talking about DM me for link...]

Oh also: anyone else feel like the dsaf fandom focuses so much on the other members of the flipside gang that Steven appears once in a blue moon?

Agh. I'm ranting. Oh, rants. If you wanna see my rant about how Steven was done dirty in dsaf 3 um. Okay 👍. Tell me in the notes please I worked hard on that rant. It's in the dsaf confessions tumblr blog.

- a disheveled ass @stevens-lemonboyfriend ... where am I.

THIS. THIS IS A PERFECT OPPORTUNITY FOR ME TO RAMBLE BACK THANK YOU. AND YES YES ABSOLUTELY FEEL FREE TO SHARE YOURS!!

Slight cw/tw (especially for fictives, fictkins, and irls/ids) for mentions of the in-source horrors//

ermm ermmmm anyways..

I 100% think that Steven deserves more recognition. I've seen various people just brush him off as nothing more than "an asshole boss". Sure, he could be a little overbearing at Freddy's, but he's phoneguy. Most phoneguys tend to be at least a LITTLE bossy, it's their JOB. They were specifically programmed to be managers, so of course they would be!

And don't forget, Steven was hurting too. He'd been surrounded by people at Freddy's for roughly a decade and yet he still technically alone as he had nobody to properly care about him. He literally had daily crying sessions in the bathrooms! (Yes, that's canon, incase anyone doesn't know.)

Listen, as a Dave, I remember that it was pretty easy to tell he was lonely (based off of my source-memories). I remember him being a little more "off to the side" than most of the others back in the flipside, for lack of better words, and that was a big reason I talked to him a lot during our time together. Even if he's made his mistakes and had done some things he clearly regrets, he was a pretty good boss compared to some others I had worked with in source!

He cared about the well-being of others, even if it wasn't always obvious since he was typically forced to put him and the company first above others, and felt repulsed by the murders. He felt guilty for trying to pin the murders on Jack, even after learning he had a part in it. He felt guilty for sending Peter to the factory and even APOLOGIZED before doing so, unaware if Peter could even still hear it or not.

I respect other people's interpretations, don't get me wrong, but it saddens me a little when people think he's just some asshole who doesn't care about what happens to others. Phoneguys are pressured to stay with the company, to do what they can to protect it - and by extension themselves - or else they face harsh consequences, to put it lightly. It's understandable why Steven did the things he did in before the flipside.

He wanted to treat people like humans, he wanted to be a good person. Don't forget that he tried to stop Henry before he ended up becoming a phoneguy. He was afraid, yes, but he's not just a coward that's too afraid to stand up for what he thinks is right nor unable to defend himself - or others - if needed. The reason he didn't defy the company is because of the SEVERE consequences, even if he clearly hated working with the company, not because he didn't care. Steven definitely deserves love and care, despite having made mistakes.

If you've read this far then uh... ooooooo you have to give him hugs now guys I'm hypnotizing you into hugging him ooooooo /j

Fr though, I stand firm that Steven deserved so much better and that he deserves affection just as much as anyone else. I refuse to change my mind. /silly /pos

-🍆

[the-tiger-with-a-computer]

Halloween Week 3: Spooky Season with Alien Robots Part 2 (TFP/Transformers Prime)

(Once again this takes place after the Transformers Prime film Predacons Rising with is after season 3 of TFP so there will be spoilers.)

Also, sorry that this is late I have been kept busy and have not had much time to work on this. Once again, sorry and I hope you have a good day/night.

Setting up all of the decorations took a lot of time and effort but everyone was able to get it done and the base was looking great. Fowler had even joined in mainly because it was his job to make sure the Autobots were/are ok.

Ratchet: There is something that I still don't get about this holiday. Why do you decorate places for a limited time and then take them down for decorations for another holiday?

Jack: Well, it's mainly just to get into the holiday spirit, but decorating is not mandatory at all and not decorating is perfectly fine.

Ratchet: Then why did we just decorate the base?

Raf: Because you and the other Autobots have experienced Halloween and decorating can be fun.

Ratchet just shrugged and got to opening the space bridge for the other Autobots. To say that everyone was excited to see their friends again would be an understatement. Miko nearly jumped into Bulkhead's hand and everyone was having a grand time catching up.

Arcee: Good to see you all.

Ratchet: It's been a while. Where is Optimus?

The other Autobots gave each other a look before Ultra Magnus spoke.

Ultra Magnus: I'll tell you at a later time.

Jack: Hang on, what's he doing here? *points at Knockout*

Arcee: Don't worry Jack, he switched sides. Though if he does try to cause any trouble just let me know.

Knockout: Calm down. I'm not dumb enough to try anything.

Smokescreen: Anyway. The base looks great. What's the occasion?

Miko: It's Halloween. So we got Ratchet to help us decorate.

Smokescreen: *looks at Ratchet* The kids got YOU to help them decorate?

Ratchet: Is it that surprising?

Smokescreen: You know what never mind.

Arcee: So, who was in charge of getting decorations?

June: I let the kids go almost all out. They would have gotten spiders and glow-in-the-dark decorations if they could.

Ultra Magnus: And considering what I have seen from your planet, I am thankful there was at least one responsible human with the children.

Raf: So Bee, how is Cybertron doing?

Bumblebee: Better than before at least. There is certainly a lot of work to be done, but things are starting to get better. How have you all been?

Raf: We have been doing better as well. Wanna see who if you got rusty at video games?

Bumblebee: Oh you are on!

The two played video games, both getting their fair share of wins and losses. The rest of the Autobot's time on Earth was spent talking, playing games, and watching human horror movies. Knockout had a lot of good recommendations which surprised everyone. Overall it was an amazing few days.

Ratchet: So, Optimus is dead.

Ultra Magnus: Unfortunately.

Ratchet: Should we tell the kids?

Ultra Magnus: I don't think so. Not until you feel like they are ready for that information.

Ratchet: All right. Until next time, stay safe my friend.

Ultra Magnus: You as well.

With that, the Autobots left and Ratchet was left wondering if he should tell the humans that Optimus was dead.

[scorpio-marionette]

31 Nights of Head Canons - Night 4

Night 3

~

A/N: This one was hard. I haven't actually seen any of these movies. I had to do a LOT of reading of summaries to write this one. Hence why it's so late coming out. I would've gotten to it sooner, but I had to cover a shift at work. Now that it's done, I go to sleep.

~

Night 4

What is your favorite classic horror movie monster?

~

Dio

Dracula is Dio's favorite. I imagine that there are days he feels like him. I mean, he brags about all of the mindless drones that he can't seem to shake. Dracula turns people into his vampiric minions that follow his commands without question. Sounds pretty similar to me.

~

Omar

Cheela from the Captive Wild Woman reminds Omar of how trapped he is in his own life by his father's desires. He, like Cheela, is actually very affectionate. Sure, he can act all cool and attractive. Ultimately though, he just wants freedom.

~

Zach

The Gill-Man in the Creature from Black Lagoon has always triggered Zach's love for travel and discovery. He finds the creature's desire for the woman strange, but enjoys the movie all the same.

~

Oberyn

Centuries prior to even the fair Targaryens rein over Westeros, before even the Children of the Forest, there was an ancient serpent that dwelled in the expansive caves of the land. This serpent was said to be the ancestor to all dragons, having been the first to sprout wings and fly free of its rocky confinment. Oberyn does not see this ancient beast as a monster or as the creator of monsters as so many others do. While his relations with the Targaryens have soured, he still holds much respect for the distant cousins of his namesake.

~

Marcus Pike

Erik, the Phantom, from the 1925 version of the Phantom of the Opera. Marcus loves this character as much as he fears becoming him. He hasn't had the best luck with love, but he hopes to never feel compelled to "take" someone's love rather than earn it.

~

Max Phillips

Dr. Jack Griffin, the invisible man, is more like Max than you know. Both are suave, psychotic, and easily disarmed by the one they really love.

~

Pero Tovar

William often likes to tell stories from his homeland to Pero, whether he cares to hear them or not. One such tale was of a man who turned into an animal. The Wolf-Man William had called it. Slave to the Moon and a hunger for flesh, whatever that may mean at the time. Pero acted like he didn't care for the story, but secretly he enjoyed thinking about resigning himself to his more basic instincts.

~

Javier Peña

Frankenstein's monster has become a favorite of Javi's. While he knows it isn't true, there are days he feels like a monster. He's done bad things. They don't define him though. This movie reminds him of that truth.

~

Jack

Dan McCormick, the Electric Man, from Man Made Monster. While you can see parallels in the men having both been turned into monsters due to their circumstances. The truth is, Jack finds the applications of electricity facinating.

~

Ezra

In is search for more relics, Ezra discovered the movie the Brute Man. He enjoys this movie because he sees himself in Hal Moffet. Not because he's disfigured, but because he's be slighted by people whom he trusted.

~

Dave

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde speaks to Dave's double life. He is a man with a family he loves, but he misses the work he used to do. Now a monster lurks under his skin. Itching to come out and be in charge forever.

~

Frankie

Wilfred Glendon, the werewolf, is a long time favorite of Frankie's. Both because he relates to having the seemingly uncontrolable beast within, and just from a personal facination of the mythological creature.

~

Max Lord

Gwynplaine, the Man Who Laughs, is a movie Max doesn't like to share with people unless he trusts them. He knows the movie calls out to his own perpetually forced smile. He hates that he has to pretend. He appreciates that his isn't carved into his face though. He also likes knowing that even Gwynplaine could find love in the end.

~

Marcus Moreno

Marcus is not a Hollow Earth theorist by any means. Just because he lives in a world where superpowers are a thing, doesn't mean the Earth has to have a whole subterranean ecosystem. He does enjoy the idea of the Mole Poeple though. It isn't entirely impossible for a whole seperate species closely resembling humans to exist underground in caves.

~

Din

Din doesn't really remember any stories from his childhood, unfortunately.

~

Nico

Godzilla and all of the other kaiju from Japan. Nico loves the look of the old films and comparing them to their latest itterations. The progress of production only heightens the action. It will always be funny to think of the man in a lizard suit though.

~

Dieter

Exeter from This Island Earth is Dieter's favorite. Though it's been a long time since seeing the movie, he remembers this being his first favorite sci-fi movie about aliens. He likes that he's a hero though not human.

~

Javi Gutierrez

Imhotep, the mummy, from the 1932 movie the Mummy. Javi likes this version of the mummy because it really focuses on Imhotep's desire to find his love again. That isn't to say he doesn't like the 1999 version. It's just with that one, he sees himself more as Rick rather than Imhotep.

~

Joel

This isn't really a monster persay, but they are huge and dangerous. In the Monolith Monsters, there are asteroid fragments that grow rapidly when exposed to water. They also seem to leech out all trace amounts of silicon from your body and leave you petrified. I would imagine Joel wanting to use some of that stuff right now to build walls very quickly around Jackson.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what the fuck I just found this in my drafts I literally wrote this years ago, like a very significant number of years ago this is old shit

and apparently I just saved it and forgot about it??? anyway I polished it up and now it is here, I have no context and I barely even remember writing it, enjoy!

my apologies for the long post I still can't figure out how to do read mores in the app

edit: some lovely people have unformed me how to use readmores, thank you ~

-----

Jack was starting to wonder perhaps if he'd done something wrong.

It wasn't uncommon for him to accidentally say or do something to upset his wife or daughter, although usually when such an event occurred Maddie would glare at him to express her displeasure, and Jazz would always take the opportunity to tell him in exact detail what he'd done wrong and how to make it up to them (something he was honestly very grateful for).

It must have been something pretty bad this time, because both women wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Jack first twigged that something was off that morning during breakfast, when he sat in the empty chair by Jazz's side and gave his usual greeting, "Hey Jazzypants!"

She ignored his presence completely, steely eyes glued to the wall opposite her, they were puffy and red and Jack wondered perhaps if she'd been crying.

It had been a long time since her problems were easily pushed aside by her father's warm hugs and jovial attitude, he had stopped being able to handle a crying Jazz after she'd turned twelve and countered his attempts at humour by insisting that he 'stop trivialising her distress', whatever THAT meant.

Nevertheless, warm hugs and gentle jokes were the only method he knew and so he wrapped a comforting arm around her thin shoulders, noting that she continued to sit still as a rock, not even glancing his way as he tried to coax a smile out of her.

Jazz didn't say a word as she pushed herself away from her unfinished breakfast and left the room.

It was when he walked down to the lab intending to ask Maddie about Jazz that Jack started to suspect he may have been the one responsible, as it became apparent that the two had seemed to coordinate their punishment for whatever transgression he'd made.

"Hey Mads!" his voice boomed over the noise of his wife's current project. He strained to see through the bright light of her blow torch at the large gun-like weapon on the table. Jack whistled in appreciation is he took in the size of what he assumed was some kind of rocket launcher. "So what are we calling this one? Ooh! How about, The Fenton Spectre 'Sploder!"

Maddie's goggles made it difficult to see what expression adorned her face, but her tensed shoulders and the shaky grip on the blow torch told him that she was most certainly upset about something.

"Mads? Are you alright?" his voice quivered slightly as he took a few steps closer, seeing his wife this tense tightened a coil within his chest. Suspecting that he may be responsible added an extra weight to his stomach that he knew wasn't cause by the breakfast he'd skipped.

The light from the blow torch snapped off and Jack had to blink the bright spots it left behind from his vision, trying to peer through the blotches to find any indication that Maddie was going to acknowledge his presence. It seemed as though she'd looked his way for a moment but before his eyes could clear enough to meet hers she'd looked away again.

Jack watched, puzzled as his wife raised a hand to cover her mouth and catch the sob that ripped its way from her throat, she hadn't succeeded as the sound echoed across the lab and tore its way straight through Jack's heart, causing his eyes to sting and his throat to close up.

He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, intent on giving her some form of comfort. He'd barely brushed it with his finger tips before Maddie stormed right past him up to the stairs, Jack had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid being trampled.

He couldn't imagine what he possibly could have done to elicit such a response from the woman he loved, but he knew for sure that he must have done something terrible for her to not seek him out for comfort like she did any other time she was upset. He just wished he could remember what.

Jack's shoulders slumped under the dim light of the glowing jars of ectoplasm lining the various counter-tops, he dry-swallowed a few times, trying to push down his confusion and distress before following his wife's light footsteps up the stairwell.

He found her in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with her goggles slung around her neck and her wild red hair loose around her head, abundant with the kinks and tangles Jack usually watched her brush out of it every morning.

"Mads?" Jack said, voice rough and quiet, "Look I... if I did something wrong I-" Jack's apology froze in his throat as Jazz poked her head through the kitchen door, eyes once again glancing right over Jack and instead locking onto her mother.

Neither woman shared a word as Jazz crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Maddie, who desperately grabbed at her daughter in return, burying her face in long red hair as violent sobs wracked her whole body.

Jack, at a loss of what else to do, wrapped his own arms around his girls. Nestling his chin on his daughters hair, he expected the annoyed scoff that Jazz usually gave him for his 'chin noogies', but it never came. Neither Fenton woman pushed him away though, so Jack considered it progress.

Finally, after an age of rocking and sobbing, Maddie's muffled words escaped through strands of Jazz's hair.

"Where is he? W-where'd he go, where'd he go?"

A deep chill coursed through Jack's veins, Danny? Had something happened to Danny? Jack pulled away, a million questions thrumming through his mind.

What happened? Was he missing? Was he hurt? Had he run away, been kidnapped, been kill- no. Jack shook his head violently, running a hand through the shorts strands of his thick hair. No he couldn't be. He couldn't be he couldn't be.

Jack's mouth was on the verge of catching up to his brain, multiple questions bubbled at his lips when he heard a voice echo down the stairs.

"Jazz?"

Jack took a steadying breath and grasped at the counter for support, relief flooding his body as his son rounded the corner and came into view. Danny was fine, Danny was safe. He had been fretting over absolutely nothing.

Then Danny's eyes locked into his.

A number of emotions flickered across his son's face, the first being a brief moment of sheer relief and delight, but it didn't last. Soon, too soon, Danny's dark brows pulled together and his lips curled sourly in confusion before a new expression swept it away. It was one Jack had never seen before.

He felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room, an icy chill prickled up his arms as the sudden wave of absolute horror overtook Danny's face. Jack couldn't tell if his son was about to break down crying or scream.

And then it was over. The tension in Jack's limbs released as Danny's face flattened into an unnaturally blank expression, he dropped his gaze and continued his way over to Maddie and Jazz. Once again it was like Jack wasn't even there.

Danny placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should do another lap around town, you might find something today." he spoke softly into her frazzled hair.

Jazz looked at Danny strangely, her brother sent her back a glance that must have held some meaning because she then gripped Maddie tightly around the shoulders and led her straight out of the house, and suddenly Jack recalled that he still didn't know who it was that had gone missing.

"So... is anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" the jovial tone Jack meant to use came out flat and strained, Danny didn't look even remotely amused.

"I think you should sit down." Danny said quietly. He was no longer meeting Jack's eyes as he pulled out a chair for himself and one for his father.

Jack took the offered seat and prepared himself for the worst, obviously someone dear to Maddie and the kids had gone missing, Jack ran a list of all the people they knew, preparing himself for the worst, it was obvious Danny did not want to tell him what had happened. Perhaps whoever was missing was someone that Jack in particular had been close to? Was that the reason behind the horrified look on Danny's face? Because he'd realised he was going to have to be the one to tell him?

Something in Jack's gut told him he was on the wrong track, but try as he might he just couldn't imagine what else it could possibly be.

Jack kept his eyes on his son as the boy's thin torso straightened up in his chair and his icy blue stare bored into Jack's. Danny took a deep breath, then took several more, eventually he seemed almost ready to speak, Jack didn't rush him.

"Dad... you're dead."

[football-writing]

Jack Grealish - real smooth

Note: I haven't seen the david and liza vid that this request was based on, and I have the attention span of fresh gravy so I didn't watch it either lmao. But I had a bit of an idea in mind for this more like Mason's fifa forfeit vid with Chunkz (let's be honest that vid was hilarious I still watch it sometimes for laughs lmao) anyway I hope that's okay. Also this features other players too bc why not

Warnings: contains some curse words probably, slight mentions of sexy times at the end, also I have no idea how waxing actually works as my only knowledge comes from that Mason vid so,, this is probably not accurate sorry xoxo

Hope you enjoy babes x

It wasn't unusual for Jack to invite some of his friends over whenever he had a day off. In fact, his days off were usually spend either with you or with his friends, most often opting for eating out with you before getting back and playing fifa with the boys for well past midnight. Today was no different. You had occupied yourself with a book and and cup of tea in your shared bedroom, while Jack was downstairs with his friends playing fifa. Their yelling and laughter could be heard even from behind the closed bedroom door. Not that it bothered you too much: as long as they were having fun and cleaning up after themselves once they left, it was fine by you.

However, it surprised you to hear footsteps coming up to the stairs, then down the hallway to your room. They had everything they needed downstairs, and never before had they bothered you upstairs, so why would they now?

A knock sounded on your bedroom door and you yelled out a quick 'yeah' as you closed your book and sat up on the bed, curious as to what it was they needed.

"Hey angel." Jack said as his head popped through the door before making his way into your bedroom, sitting down defeatedly onto the edge of your bed. He had a slight pout on his face, and bit his bottom lip nervously as he looked at you.

"What's wrong, baby? Please tell me you didn't break anything down there." You said, a stern look plastered on your face.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just- uhm." He hesitated as he looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt instead of maintaining eye contact with you. Worry took over your features. What was he up to now?

"We were playing fifa forfeit, right. And Ben said I had to wax my legs if I lost-"

"Oh my god, Jack!" A releaved sigh left her lips. It was never gonna be anything serious with these boys anyway. She should've known better. "Did you lose, though? Please tell me you did."

He only nodded in response, and she let out a squeel as she fell back on the bed.

"That's hilarious, I was worried there for a second, but this is great."

"Don't get too excited. The boys asked if I'd ask you if you had any wax. But I just came up here to chat for a bit and then I'll go back down saying you didn't."

"Now, why would you do that?" She said as she looked at him with raised brows, challenging him.

"You know, I actually do have some strips left, I'd be more than happy to wax your legs. Besides, a bet is a bet, Jack. You can't just back down now." She smiled thriumphantly and he groaned in response.

"Why won't you just have my back with this?"

"Oh, I can wax your back too, no problem."

"Not what I meant sweetheart."

"I know." She smiled cheekily as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, before telling him she'd be downstairs in a bit with all the necessities to wax his legs.

"Hey boys!" She hollered as she rushed down the stairs with her wax kit, the boys looking up at her. Jack was already sitting on the chaise longue with his legs up. His shorts ridden up a bit more than usual to expose his muscular thighs. The others sitting next to him on the couch, ready for the action that was about to unfold.

"Ready, babe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she sat down her kit.

"Oh I sure am!" Ben replied with a big boyish smile on his face.

"I'm sure you are, Ben." She chuckled as she ruffled his hair. He'd usually have it gelled back whenever he had a game, but kept it natural and curly when he came around theirs. It was her favourite look of his, perhaps partly because she could mess with his hair more easily.

"I remember when I had this done, hurts like hell. Good luck bro!" Mason interjected, patting Jack's shoulder in mock-sympathy.

"Yeah, I cannot wait to see you cry like a baby. I love you for coming up with this, Ben."

"Babe!" He whined. "You're supposed to support me here."

"Well I am supporting you, I'm the one waxing you. Trust me, you do not want to have this done by someone who has no idea what they're doing." You said as you warmed up a few strips of wax between your hands.

"Seconded." Declan replied with a serious face. Everyone looked at him in confusion; he had never told them about getting waxed before, but it sounded like an intriguing story.

"I'm not even gonna ask, mate." Jack said. Horror stories would not make this experience any more bearable for him. It left Dec pretending to be upset, eager to tell the - no doubt ridiculous - story.

"Alright, I'm gonna get these on." You interrupted their banter, tearing the strip to reveal the sticky substance underneath.

She put the strips on his leg as the boys chatted away. Just as she was putting the fourth strip on, Jack swatted her hand away.

"You have to put all those on?" He questioned her.

"Well the forfeit did say 'legs'. As in, both legs. Completely." Declan argued.

"I did say that. But that's a bit too harsh innit?"

"Yeah, there's already three strips on now, let's see how he gets through those first." Mason offered.

"Will hurt like hell with that much hair." Declan hit Jack's leg for emphasis.

"No doubt." You laughed as you smoothed out the strips once more.

"Ready, Jack?" You asked as you hold the edge of one of the strips, ready to pull it off.

"Wait, wait I gotta film this!" Declan was quick to exclaim as he took out his phone, much to Jack's dismay, who had his hands in front of his face as he waits for the inevitable pain of ripping off the strips.

"Alright, 3. 2. 1!" The boys count down in unison as you rip off the first strip.

"Jesus, Y/N!" An array of curses leave Jack's mouth as he yelps, gripping his leg in pain, his eyes wide with shock. Clearly he had underestimated how much this was really going to hurt, which has all of you rolling over with laughter. Mason is gripping his stomach as he's sitting on the floor, barely able to breathe between his giggles. You're trying to ease Jack's mind and soothingly rub the sensitive skin on his leg, but you're shaking too much from the laughter leaving your lips.

"Oh my lord, and look at the hair that's come off!" Declan hollers as he takes a step closer to properly film the strip that was, indeed, covered in Jack's leg hair. You held it up for the camera as you shrieked at the sheer amount of hair. It's like a lion's mane got glued on the strip.

"Jeez, Jack, you hairy lad." Declan laughs, which earns a grumble from dissatisfied boy. You're pretty sure if Dec wasn't responsible for filming the whole ordeal, he'd be on the ground just as Mason was.

"Oi, what are you crying for, mate? I'm the one in pain here." Jack points a finger accusingly at Ben, and when you turn around you see he has tears in his eyes, breathing coming out in desperate gasps as he shakes his head no, signalling he can't take any more of this banter. It seemed like everyone had at least slightly calmed down, but looking at Ben made everyone burst out in laughter yet again. Mason had tears streaming down his face now too, and you're sure he might piss his pants if he laughs any louder. It even makes Jack chuckle.

"Just get it over with, alright. I don't wanna be in pain any longer." Jack asks you nonetheless, guiding your hand to one of the other strips.

"It can't be that bad." Ben's voice is higher than usual from his earlier laughing fit, but he's wiping the tears from his eyes as he seems to have calmed down considerably. Mason can only nod in confirmation, still unable to form words without giggling.

"I have no problem waxing you lot too, babes." You smile up cheekily at them, which results in loud protests from the boys.

"Now that I would love to see." Jack replies, before looking down at his leg and rubbing the spot that was now rid of any hairs. "Perhaps this would be funnier if there weren't two other strips on me leg." He sighed in despair, staring at his leg with sad eyes. It made you chuckle, but seeing Jack's stern look dericted at you, you quickly focused on the task at hand.

"Alright, next one Jack."

"Lord have mercy."

The next strips don't have any other effect than the first one. It sends all of you rolling on the floor laughing, and Jack with tears in his eyes and red skin on his leg. Dec leaves the room at one point because he genuinely can't breathe, and Mason has to sprint to the bathroom, like you predicted. Meanwhile your hands get shakier and shakier from laughing, and you can barely see what you're doing due to the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Jack's decided to rip the last strip off himself, and you're shrieking with laughter as he pulls at it but chickens out from the pain, resulting in it only coming off halfway. When it is finally off, and all the hairy strips are disposed of, everyone slowly but certainly calms down. You're getting some lotion from upstairs to soothe the stinging, and when Ben orders pizza, it all seems long gone.

Yet when you're watching tv, and Mason steals a sneaky glance at Dec, the both can't help but try - and fail - to surpress their giggles.

It's how the rest of the night continued until the three other boys finally left in the late hours of the night.

"I'll clean, love. Get in bed and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" Jack's offering once they're gone, and you're accepting gratefully as you kiss his cheek. The night was fun, but the laughing fits had you beyond tired.

So when Jack slips into bed next to you, you're already in bed with your eyes closed, dozing off.

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?" You mumble as you open your eyes at Jack's whisper.

"Wanna feel my leg?" He asks, but he's already draping his freshly waxed leg over your legs, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You've known the guy long enough to know that he won't stop bothering you if you decline, and the request makes you think of the many times you've asked him to feel your legs after - finally - shaving them again.

So you decide to humour him and softly carress his smooth leg.

"Feels pretty good, huh?" His voice cocky as he questions you.

"Sure, real smooth Jack."

"Wanna have sex with a sexy smooth beast like that?"

You snort loudly at his inappropriate request, shoving his leg off of you in a joking manner.

"Oh come on, don't tell me I went through all that for nothing!" He exclaims in agony.

"No, you went through all that because you suck at Fifa." You deadpan as you grin at him.

His eyes are darker as he watches you intently, and the knowing smirk on your face makes you apprehensive of what he's up to now. He's moving closer, hovering over you and effectively trapping you as his muscular arms hold himself up on either side of you. And next thing you know, he's placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, before trailing down to your jaw. A gasp involuntarily leaves your lips as he nibbles at your earlobe.

"You know with how soft my leg is and all." He starts to whisper in your ear. His voice is husky and smooth - and normally you know what it means. But you have no clue where he's going with this sentence. "Would you mind if I-" And he's pausing again for dramatic effect as his lips graze over your hot skin. "Slitherin." He finally whispers in your ear, accentuating the 's'.

And just like that, you're back rolling over with laughter just like you had been that very afternoon.

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

[frenchpuppycormier]

I had so much inspiration after last night, so I had to write a lil somethin'. As I'm sure lots of other people did too ;)

Lena went home that night with grief ripping out of her seams. Her heart felt heavy, like a boulder had taken up residence in her sternum, and there was no escape route. As she makes it into her lavish kitchen, she gently sets her phone on the counter then locates the decanter of scotch hidden in the cabinet beneath the television.

She pours herself two fingers and swallows it in one gulp, burning the whole way down. While trying to pour another, her hands shake and she doesn’t know if it’s from the nerves of losing Kara or if it’s because she hasn’t eaten all day. Realistically she knows it’s the latter, but if she were a betting woman, it’s only likely that it’s the former. It’s always been the former.

Minutes go by, as she stands there in her living room, the loud ticking of the clock on the mantle not-so-pleasantly reminding her. She kicks off her heels and collapses on the couch in a heap, the scotch sloshing over her wrist, and spilling on the carpet. Lena can’t even bring herself to care.

Normally, Lena isn’t the type of person to just give up. Her multiple awards, scientific breakthroughs and accomplishments, her MENSA certificate, the fact that she at one time owned two multi-billion dollar companies, all say otherwise. However, right now she’s at her breaking point.

She flips on the TV for a distraction, but it only works for about a minute. Lena downs another glass and another and another. When she pours her fifth it doesn’t even make it into the glass. The dark thoughts begin to swirl in her mind, and without warning her body takes over and she chucks the glass across the room. It shatters against the TV, leaving the expensive screen cracked and broken, and dripping in liquor. She screams in agony. Another thing that needs fixing.

Lena stumbles over and picks up the glass, the blood and cuts on her hands not even registering in her mind. She’s simply numb.

Her brain thinks apparently now is a grand time to rehash everything Kara told her before she essentially died. The Phantom Zone. She hears Kara’s words repeating over and over in here head. “I was stuck in the Phantom Zone replaying the destruction of my planet for nearly a decade.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lena weeps to herself. She buries her head in her hands, but when the warm, sticky residue stains her cheeks, she pulls them back and gapes with abject horror. She squeezes her hands into fists to try and stop the bleeding, but it’s no use. Realizing what’s she’s done, Lena falls to the floor on her knees and sobs uncontrollably. She curls into herself and gradually ends up in ball, visibly shaking and unable to do anything about it.

She thinks back to the time when Supergirl was fighting Reign. The moment she fell from the skyscraper with a loud crack on the pavement. Kara’s still and lifeless body. Lena had been watching along with James, and the rest of National City, not knowing it was her best friend the whole time.

She remembers when Supergirl told Reign to take her instead while her fingers were wrapped around Lena’s neck, choking the life out of her.

The sobs continue and her body wracks with guilt. Her throat tightens making it hard to breathe.

She recalls Lex bragging to her about the other Supergirl, Red Daughter, beating Kara to death. The rage in him and the sneer on his face, he was practically seething with intense joy over what he thought was the defeat of Supergirl. Alex had confided in her one night, not knowing what else to say to the woman who was at her sister’s throat, that Supergirl had died that night. She had died and Lena would have never known. What would they have told her about Kara?

Her memory finally serves her to the beginning when Supergirl sacrificed herself to Lillian to protect Lena. When she distracted the nanobots when they were trying to kill Jack. The time she willingly gave CADMUS an inside as to how her heat vision worked and vials of her blood, all so they wouldn’t hurt the ones she loved. Or every time she risked her life to save Lena.

And now her best friend will suffer in the Phantom Zone, again, and Lena doesn’t even know how to get there, how to save her, what she’s thinking, how to live without her, or how to process any of this. All these crushing realizations of what she feels weighing down on her, and she can’t move. Lena isn’t the type of person to just give up, but right now the only thing she feels is hopeless.

The sobs get louder and more enunciated.

That’s how Alex finds her; curled up in a ball, on the floor, shivering and quaking with choked sobs, dried blood caked on her hands and face, broken glass strewn all around her, and the TV flickering with glitchy blotches.

Alex glances around the room and with a weary face, she sighs. She walks over to Lena, glass crunching beneath her boots, and carefully kneels in front of her. “Oh, honey,” she cards a hand through raven hair, parting it away from the woman’s face. Her eyes are glazed over and splotchy. “Have you been here all night?”

Lena shoots up as if an electric shock went coursing through her system, and groans from the hangover. She glances around and flinches when sunlight hits her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just after 7 in the morning,” Alex winces. “I tried calling you, but I see you’ve been busy…”

“Alex,” Lena’s voice is hoarse, “I didn’t get a chance to—” she hiccups. Her breathing is labored and she can feel another panic attack coming on. “I never told Kara.”

Alex frowns and helps her sit up properly, resting her hands on Lena’s forearms. “What?” she lowers her head to meet her eyes. “What didn’t you tell her?”

“I never told her how I feel,” her lip wobbles and she rips an arm away from Alex’s grasp and rubs away the tears roughly, like she’s angry at herself and has no one else to take it out on. Actually, that’s exactly how she feels. She’s furious at herself. “I never told her how I feel about her! I love her, Alex! I love her and I never told her!” she yells and thrashes and Alex takes it all like a champ.

Alex manages to wrangle her and wrap her arms tightly around the other woman’s shoulders. She rubs soothing hands along her back. “She knows.” Alex pulls her back and looks her dead in the eye, hands firmly planted on Lena’s shoulders, “Hey. She knows.”

Lena’s tear-filled eyes widen and the dam breaks once more. Alex pulls her in for another hug and they stay like that until the breathing is under control. “Will you tell me about the Phantom Zone?” Lena asks, hesitantly, when they pull back.

Alex nods. “Actually, that’s why I came over here. I’m not gonna stop until we find her and get her back. And I need your help.” Lena smiles lightly, the light in her eyes slowly coming back. “But first, we’re cleaning you and this place up,” she gestures around them with a pointed look on her face.

So, that’s what they do.

Alex tells her about the Phantom Zone, at least what she knows from what her sister has told her, while together they work tirelessly in finding a way to get there and save Kara from any more pain and torture inflicted upon her. They keep plugging away.

A few weeks later it happens. They find her.

When they arrive, Kara is hunched over herself, leaning against some type of space rock inside of what appears to be a cave. Lena and Alex share a look before Lena tentatively steps forward, and crouches down next to Kara.

“Hey,” Lena reaches a hand toward her. Kara flinches and makes herself smaller. Lena swallows thickly and tries again. “Kara. It’s me. It’s Lena.”

Kara peeks out behind her hands and looks at Lena with a darkness she’s never seen come from those deep ocean eyes. She’s almost lifeless. “You’re not real,” Kara rasps. A drop falls from Lena’s eyes and onto her lap. Kara watches it with rapt attention, and falters for a moment.

“Lena?” she touches her cheeks with the palm of her hands and lifts, “Is that really you?” Lena smiles widely and nods. Kara wipes away her tears with nimble thumbs. Kara sobs loudly and rests her forehead on Lena’s. “It’s really you,” she finishes with a whisper.

“It’s really me,” Lena replies. “We’re here to bring you home. Come on,” she pulls back, regretfully, and helps Kara to her feet. She takes one of Kara’s arms and puts it around her shoulder and wraps her own arm around the hero’s waist. While they’re hobbling toward Alex and the portal, Kara stops.

“Wait!”

“Kara, we have to go.” Lena glances around with nervous eyes and hears the telltale sound of phantoms whooshing around outside the cave. She continues her way toward Alex while making get moving gestures at Kara.

“I love you!”

Lena stops and stares in shock. The moment is here and knowing their track record for important conversations, it just had to take place in an area laced with death and rot. Alex looks impatiently between the two women.

Kara limps to Lena, who catches her before she falls. “Lena, I’ve been stuck here for who knows how long, and all I could think about the whole time was you and how much I love you. You’re what kept me sane.” Before Lena can reply, Kara is surging forward and pressing their lips together in a searing kiss. At first, Kara thinks she’s made a mistake, but then Lena returns the kiss with just as much fervor and excitement.

When they open their eyes they’re back on earth in the Fortress. They collectively frown and notice Alex smirking at them with a raise of her eyebrow. “You guys were taking too long so I just came to you while you were…” she motions around them with a wave of her hands, “You know, busy.”

Lena blushes and drops her face into her hands before stuffing it in the crook of Kara’s neck. Kara responds by chuckling softly and encircling her arms around Lena's waist. She rests her cheek on her love's head and smiles at her sister, “We’ll catch up with you later, if that’s alright?”

Alex kisses both of their heads and whispers to Kara, “We’re glad you’re back.”

___

(AO3) leave kudos please :)

[violetwolfraven]

Modern!Wormsies Headcanons because I’m terrified wormsies is going to die before 2021 gets here

Tw for mild horror. I don’t think this is that bad but read at your own risk. I don’t l know why I created it I just felt compelled to but don’t read it unless you’re as insane as I am and are fully prepared to read the most cursed thing I have ever created. Seriously. This is by far the most cursed thing I have ever written. Good luck. 💜

So anyway they’re not selling to survive obviously since it’s modern au.

In my modern au they’re all theatre nerds cause why not.

So they’re backstage one day and Race finds this blue thing behind an old set that has probably been there for several years.

Lo and behold, it is a worm on a string.

And Race is kinda weirded out and wondering who left it there but he’s like aight guess I’m keeping this thing.

He ties it to a strap on his backpack and forgets about it for the rest of rehearsal.

Then Romeo (one of Race’s 3 adoptive brothers, the others being Jack and Crutchie) notices it and f l i p s o u t.

Romeo drags over Specs and Jack and Crutchie to show them the worm Race found and they’re all like omg this is the best thing we’ve ever seen.

Race is still kinda confused but like hey whatever this might as well happen and he just figures if his brothers and his little brother’s boyfriend are gonna obsess over worms, why not join in?

They all get worms somehow. Romeo gets a green one, Specs gets a purple one, Jack gets a dark blue one, and Crutchie gets a yellow one.

When they all show up to rehearsal a few days later with worms, a few others pick up on it and are like lmao let’s join in on the insanity.

So anyway Albert gets a red one, Smalls gets a green one, Mike gets a purple one, Ike gets a yellow one cause it’s the opposite of purple, and Elmer gets a green one.

All the others are all kinda just whatever do what you want don’t involve us in your insanity.

BUT THEN

Over the course of the next couple weeks, only a couple more people join in on getting worms.

Sniper gets a purple one and Finch gets an orange one.

But what’s strange is that everybody starts noticing...

The kids with worms pick up choreography...

Faster and Better...

Than the kids without worms...

They’re stretchier and more agile...

...almost like..?

Almost like...

They...

don’t...

have...

spines..?

They wiggle just like their worms wiggle wiggle wiggle.

And Specs is the most logical of the ones with worms but even he fully believes his worm gives him special powers.

They spend their snack breaks talking about this and a few more people decide to get in on it.

Jojo gets a yellow one, Mush gets a dark blue one, and Blink gets a light blue one.

Davey, Spot, and Katherine still refuse to believe in this.

Sarah got a pink worm and they were all terribly disappointed in her.

But anyway they hold out their lack of belief despite how the kids with worms continue to perform better in dance numbers than the few left without.

Kenny caves and gets a dark blue one somewhere in here.

There are now a lot more kids with worms than kids without and the holidays are rolling around.

Ike gets Hotshot a red worm and Hotshot in turn gets red worms for all his crowd on the stage crew (Bart, Rafaela, Joey, Hildy, York, and Vince).

Hell, even the crew kids perform better with worms, it turns out.

Cause they can run fast to get places they need to be and squeeze through spaces they shouldn’t be able to squeeze through.

But anyway Katherine and Davey and Spot are starting to get a little creeped out.

Cause their friends and partners are starting to act more and more like they’re in a cult, even more than the cult that they’re already in (the drama club).

They pretend their worms have fucking personalities and make tiny hats for them and stuff.

And the ones left without worms are dropping like flies and getting assimilated to the other side.

Buttons gets a light blue one, Tommy Boy gets a pink one, Henry gets an orange one, and

And Sarah gets Les a green worm.

That’s kinda the last straw for Davey.

He fucking waits until his siblings are asleep and he throws their worms in the trash.

But mysteriously

They both have their worms back in time for rehearsal.

And Davey gets home that night and there’s a light blue worm waiting on his pillow.

He throws it away but it’s tied to his backpack strap the next day.

He flushes it down the toilet and it shows up in his favorite hoodie pocket.

He tells Katherine and Spot, super freaked out, but they don’t really believe him cause there’s no such thing as magic worms... right?

Then Katherine finds a purple worm on the seat she usually sits in during breaks.

She’s moderately creeped out so she leaves it there and goes to a different seat but the next break the worm is on that seat.

She can’t remember seeing anyone move it.

Meanwhile Spot is making out with Race behind a curtain (obviously) and Race

Race fucking pulls a red worm out of his sleeve like a scarf trick and gives it to him.

Spot is super weirded out by this and wants to just throw the dumb thing away the minute he and Race are done making out, but he just...

He can’t.

He can’t get rid of the worm, so he ties it to his backpack.

Katherine and Davey are mildly horrified that Spot has given in and won’t give up his worm even though you’re encouraging their cult-like behavior, Spot, come on.

Spot insists that he could throw away his worm if he wanted to, he just... doesn’t want to. And besides, he can keep up with the others on theatre stuff now, so why would he?

So Kath and Davey are

The

Last

Ones

Left

Without worms.

Davey’s worm is still following him around but he refuses to give in and he always gets rid of it as soon as he finds it but it always pops up again.

Katherine’s shows up less frequently, but it starts getting more and more frequent and she starts getting more and more freaked out as one night, she goes into her room and that fucking purple worm is on her pillow.

None of her friends have been to her house in the last 24 hours so this development is fucking terrifying.

She calls Davey and flips out on the phone to him about it and he’s trying to calm her down but Sarah ends up stealing his phone after a few minutes because she’s my girlfriend, Davey, not yours.

When Davey gets the phone back, Katherine is significantly calmer. He asks her if she threw the worm away.

She

Didn’t

Throw the worm away.

She claims it’s fine, that they might as well give in, Davey, we’re the last ones left without worms, just out of stubbornness. And anyway our friends with worms are doing fine; look at your siblings if you need proof.

Sarah and Les are having a tea party with their worms and Davey is getting pretty scared at this point.

He’s the last one left without a worm, though that blue one still always seems to show up wherever he is.

Until

Opening night

Of

Their

Show

Afterwards everybody’s pumped up and ready to go to Applebee’s to celebrate and Davey is relieved because no one has mentioned worms in the last 24 hours or even really looked at the ones still tied to their backpacks.

He thinks maybe the others got bored with it and this thing is finally dying, especially since that damn light blue worm hasn’t showed up today either.

But then Davey is just sharing a nice coffee alone with Jack backstage (which he hasn’t done since the worm thing started because honestly his boyfriend was creeping him out).

Jack suddenly starts crying, and Davey’s all like hey what is it? Babe look at me what’s wrong?

And Jack just goes I’m sorry love I know it hurts now but it’s better in the long run trust me.

That’s when Elmer, Specs, Sarah, and Mush burst in behind them and grab Davey, shoving a bag over his head and dragging him somewhere.

When the bag is taken off of Davey’s head, he’s tied to a chair in the middle of a choir room that all his friends have somehow squeezed into.

They’re all holding their worms.

And Davey is like guys if this is an elaborate prank it wasn’t even that funny to begin with but now it is very very much not funny.

But Sarah just goes in a sad tone it’s not a prank Davey.

Les not looking like he’s trying not to laugh is what makes Davey believe it’s not a prank.

And Davey is legitimately terrified at this point because even Spot and Katherine are looking at him with a solemn kind of pity and when he asks them for help they just shake their heads and tell him everything will be okay.

He turns to Jack and is still clinging to that last little bit of hope that one of the people he loves might not have gone off the deep end.

That last little bit of hope that the boy he loves is still the boy I fell for. I know you’re still in there so please just untie me Jackie.

Jack looks like he’s trying not to cry but he doesn’t move.

Instead he says I love you Davey. It’ll all be over soon.

Do it, Race.

Race steps forward and Davey just about has a heart attack because

He’s

Holding

That

Goddamn

Light blue

Worm

And he takes some rainbow duct tape out of his pocket and tapes it to Davey’s shirt.

And the others all start chanting one of us one of us one of us as Davey can practically feel the spine leave his body and travel to another dimension where there’s a man who collects them.

It turns out the others were right that he should just give in.

Now it’s time for them to get the rest of the school.

Edit: here is my attempt to justify myself for this. 💜

[pallasperilous]

Occursus

Castiel/Dean Winchester Gen/Teen, 4341 words 15x20 coda  AO3 version “The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” Cas says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” 

Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two. “Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes. “It was a poor analogy. I apologize.” “So what’s a better one?” Castiel drums his fingers for a second. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.” “Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

It’s half past midnight by the time Dean gets another run at Cas.

Granted, what the fuck does half past midnight even mean here, where time is as free as tap water? Why does anybody even bother? For all it matters, Dean could set his watch to eleventy minutes past twenty o’ nope and still never miss last call.

Then again, somebody felt it necessary to invent the idea of Tuesday in the first place, and Dean’s not gonna volunteer himself for the task of replacing it with something better. What’s important is that he’s survived (or rather, he hasn’t survived) a battery of poignant moments and tearful reunions. He and Sam hugged out burdens registering in the triple digits. They even had a little fight, pretty much for the fun of it, while Ellen fucking Harvelle watched them over the bar with her eyes shining. She still charged them, though.

Right at the beginning of the party Dean and Castiel had their eyes-across-the-room thing, followed by the same magnetic, exhausted embrace they’ve shared on just about every plane of reality now. Dean supposes he could ask Cas for a nickel tour of the Empty just so they could hit for the cycle, but he’d really rather not. Sam let them eke out a few gruff, tear-choked monosyllables before diving in, sweeping Cas up in a bear hug and laughing like a fucking kid. Dean doesn’t push it, because it’s been longer for Sam, after all. Or something.

 And now it’s quiet, just the jukebox and the clink of glasses back in the kitchen, a few folks murmuring in booths. It might be dark outside, it might not; it’s waiting on Dean’s opinion before it commits to anything. And so is Cas, who is standing in the warm glow of the jukebox, hands in his pockets.

 Dean walks up, leans against it, bottle still dangling from one hand.

“C’mon, sunshine. I’ll show you yours, you show me mine.”

Cas looks up and into Dean’s eyes with the wary, elegant patience of a deer. “What is it that you would be showing me, Dean?”

Dean gives him a long, languid blink and bites his lip, and Castiel lags for half a second before rolling his own eyes. “I see death hasn’t refined your sense of humor.”

“Nope. Guess the billionth time aint the charm.”

Cas remains stonefaced, which means a corresponding you dumbass blush starts crawling up the sides of Dean’s neck. The jukebox switches records like it’s making a suggestion.

“I’m gonna sit down outside,” Dean says. “C’mon and sit down with me. There’s a patio somewhere, right? Ellen was always talking about adding one out back. No way she hasn’t bossed somebody into buildin’ it.”

“There’s a patio,” Cas says, taking his hands out of his pockets.

 Heaven’s patio is pretty nice; twenty square feet, some scattered picnic tables, fences covered in ivy and string lights. It still smells like fresh pine boards. There’s even a fire pit, which seems kinda bougie for the Roadhouse, but hell with it, it’s warm and pretty, and since when did pretentious people get to lay claim to “a hole with a fire in it”? There’s no moon overhead, and so the Milky Way is giving them the full monty — the runnelled spine of it, the ribcage packed with galaxies.

“Are they all alive?” Dean asks. The warmth from inside leaks out of his collar, wisps away.

“Who?”

Dean points up. “The stars. They always make a big deal about how most of the stars you can see from Earth have been dead for millions of years by the time we get the light from ‘em. That still true here? Or is everything on auto-renewal?”

“That’s a very complicated question,” Cas says, not looking up, only at Dean. He does that a lot, Dean knows, but it turns out to mean something different than what Dean had always assumed, which was ironically pretty similar to what it actually meant, but was reassuringly unactionable and therefore unfuckupable.

“I’m a very complicated guy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that. “I don’t actually know the answer,” he admits. “And it would take an extremely long time to investigate. There are some other things I’d rather do first.”

“What, you can’t just call the kid for directory assistance?”

Castiel lets a good-humored sigh. “Like many young people these days, Jack prefers to avoid the phone.”

This is a solid riff, and Dean respects it. He picks the table closest to the fire and takes a bench and Cas sits next to him, instead of opposite. Dean thought he managed to break him of this habit a few years ago, but here all things are made whole again.

“So what,” Cas says, without a single molecule of playfulness or seduction, “is it that you want us to show each other?”

“Yeah, I was…it was a dumb joke. But I mean it, just not in a ‘playing doctor’ way.”

Castiel frowns, tightens his lips; the firelight throws a fluttering shadow across his face.

“I mean…Christ.” Dean takes a medicinal slug of his dwindling beer. “I don’t really look like this anymore either, right?” And he gestures at his usual shitshow personal presentation, which death has also noticeably failed to refine.

Castiel frowns, smoothes his hand across the surface of the table. “This is a corporeal world, Dean. It operates on a different set of rules, but your body here is no more of an illusion than it was on earth.”

“Seriously?” Dean ponders a second, squints through the dim light at his fingernails, at the high-resolution grime contained therein. “Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work. At least compared to Holodeck Heaven.”

“It is. But we didn’t build this place to be a...a…doorprize. It’s a real world,” Castiel enthuses, looming forward. “It’s the one that should have been created for all of you in the first place.” He pauses, glances down. “For all of us.”

Dean shrugs. “Okay, so no holograms. I’ll keep all that in mind next time Charlie tries to convince me to go skydiving.”

Castiel snorts, but not in pure aggravation, so Dean feels like he’s finally got a point on the board. “What I’m sayin’ is…physical or not, this place has different rules, right? So could I look at you without my eyeballs exploding? The…you know, the angel parts of you. Not just your vessel,” and Dean fwippies his hand at Cas to indicate that true beauty is contained within and Dean is completely indifferent to the fact this dork-ass alien managed to bodysnatch a guy who’s never dipped below an 8.5.

“It isn’t a vessel anymore. We can create our own bodies, now.”

“Peachy,” Dean clips, because that shit is a little late coming off the line.

Castiel sighs. “You could see me in that form without coming to harm. But you should know that I don’t consider it any more a reflection who I am than this form. Not anymore.”

Dean rolls the bottle towards him, nudges a knuckle. “You’re a real boy now, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Castiel says, and smiles a smile so small that Dean would need a microscope to figure out if it’s pleased or pained.

So Dean thwacks the bottle down on the totally-real table and claps his totally-real hands. “Well then let’s go. Hit me with that angel weirdness. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta taste all thirty-one flavors.”

Castiel smiles a little more convincingly, but it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “There are really only the two,” he says, and holds his palms out to the warmth of the fire.

“Great, then we’ll be done in time to catch Letterman. Then if you’re good maybe you can help me shimmy out of this thing.”

Cas cocks his head. “Out of which thing?”

“This super real heavenly meat-suit, dude. It’s not fair if only one of us gets naked. Peep show has to go both ways. I see your angel-face, you see my soul.”

Cas looks stricken, like Dean is asking to suck on his toes next to a playground. “I mean, unless that’d fuck you up,” Dean adds.

“No,” Castiel replies, a little absently. “It wouldn’t fuck me up. But it…wouldn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“What, no soul kink? That’s bullshit and you know it. You love this crap.”

Castiel replies, “Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” with the easy confidence of a regular latte order. With the same uncanny, 2 Blessed 2 B Stressed face he had when Dean plowed Ruby’s knife hilt-deep into Jimmy Novak’s sternum, that he had when the Empty collapsed him  like a carcass in an acid bath.

That face shuts Dean right the fuck up, because it sends him skipping backwards into that fucking basement, where his phone is buzzing and the gritty concrete chill of the floor is seeping through his jeans into the useless meat of his legs and leeching into the hot, wet channels of his piece of shit heart.

Turns out you can work up a good little panic attack in heaven, which seems like a significant oversight.

From a million miles away he feels Cas’s warm, dry palm slide over the back of his hand –– there’s a ring there now that Dean lost down a motel sink drain ages ago, is nobody spotting continuity errors here?—then Cas’s hand tightens on his and it feels like a Xanax kicking in. (The good kind, direct from the hot nurse with the little paper cup, not the kind you get in a from a shady burnout at a truckstop, that’s been ground up with baking soda or benadryl and carefully remolded, as if you could possibly give that much of a shit when you’re freaking out bad enough to buy Xanax at a truckstop.)

Point being, he calms the fuck down.

Cas has good hands. They can do a lot of impressive shit, and they look nice doing it. They don’t look like –– they’ve never looked like –– they belong to somebody whose main job is destroying people, places, or things. They’re hands that how to play the cello, or make tables from reclaimed wood, or give soapy, encompassing handjobs in the shower on cold evenings.

“It’s been years, though,” Dean rasps, not looking up yet. “I was a kid when you got me out of Hell, Cas. I’ve done a lot of shit since then. Maybe souls get stretch marks.”

Castiel’s hand tightens on his, clamps it down on the table. “I’ve always been able to see it.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, but Cas keeps on going –

“The only time I couldn’t see any part of your soul was when I was without grace, and I promise you that was one of the greatest deprivations imaginable.”

Dean snorts, looks away, but his hand is still on lockdown. “Worse than going hungry, huh?”

“Much.”

“Hey, what about Sam? Or, hell, fucking Donatello. They both were both walking around minus their creamy filling, and you didn’t say boo.”

Cas shrugs. “I can’t see their souls under ordinary circumstances.”

“So what, mine’s just extra loud, or day-glo, or what?”

“It’s both of those things, but that isn’t why,” Cas answers, and the boy is downright wry.

Dean tugs his hand out, raps his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, so stop bein’ coy and tell me before I get a complex. And if you say it’s because of love or some shit, I’m bailing to Rowena’s.”

“You infected me,” Cas says.

“Uh,” says Dean.

The fire pops and a log shifts; Cas glances over at the kerfuffle, absently lifts his fingers to his chin like he’s looking for an old scar. “In Hell, when I retrieved you…I had to grip your raw soul. I was meant to wear a gauntlet, so I wouldn’t be burned.”

Dean snickers. “You’re telling me you were supposed to be wearing a soul condom. What happened, you get too excited and forget to suit up? It’s okay, I know I’m a lot to take in.”

Castiel purses his lips. “No, I was properly armored. But my arm was torn off in combat shortly before I reached you.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Cas agrees. “I didn’t have time to retrieve the arm or its protection from the pit, so I had to grow a new one very quickly.”

Dean really should’ve switched to whiskey before starting this. “What, you didn’t pack a spare?” He wheezes.

“Ordinarily, yes, I would have had the resources, but I was equipped very lightly for that mission. It was a raid, not a siege. You understand the difference.”

“Sure, yeah, you left your emergency arms in the trunk. So you just popped out a new one. No big.”

“It was a big. Your soul was close enough that it forced me to grow a human arm, instead of a much quicker and more powerful extensor.”

“Okay, uh,” Dean pinches at the bridge of his nose, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“What part of it confuses you?”

“I dunno, the bit where apparently angels are I guess heavenly octopuses,”

“The plural in the Greek is octopodes,” Cas interjects, not without pleasure.

Dean glowers. “Or the part where you can apparently swap in different drill bits,” Dean continues,

“Mm,” Cas notes, careful not to open his mouth,

“Or that I, like, accidentally bullied you into growing a person arm,” and Dean pauses for breath here, which Cas evidently takes as permission to dive in with more Planet Earth commentary.

“The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” he says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two.

“Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes.

“It was a poor analogy. I apologize.”

“So what’s a better one?”

Castiel drums his fingers for a second, listens to the fire pop in its little cage. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.”

“Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

“What I’m trying to avoid saying,” Castiel sighs, “is that you rubbed off on me.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s fair. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to say that around me, either.”  He lays a couple little pats on Cas’s hand. “Lookit you, though, seeing around that corner. I’m proud of you, man. That would’ve totally flipped your breaker back in the day.”

“Just one of the many ways you have reshaped me, Dean,” Cas says, with warm sarcasm.

“Alright, so you rawdogged me, I whammied you. Chocolate, peanut butter, peanut butter, chocolate.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkles in skepticism. “I still prefer the cockroach. But some part of your soul injected itself into one of my more exposed frequencies. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped and excised the affected area before it spread, but. I was being pursued, and the mission had taken much longer than any of us anticipated.”

“Us? Thought it was just you down there.”

Cas looks vaguely offended, straightens and folds his arms like he just remembered he’s giving a deposition. “No, of course not. Michael assigned sixty-six angels in eleven groups of six, each escorted to the field by a seraph. We struck simultaneously at six different areas in perdition. From there we dispersed to individual targets –– to cause as much chaos as possible in order to help obscure the object of our mission, and to increase the odds that one of us would actually find you.”

“And you were the lucky winner.” Dean pushes down a touch of sick shame at the thought of it — he’d been coiled up like a snake around somebody else’s torment, anesthetized by it. It was one of the random rags of infernal time where his own pain decreased in proportion to how much he dealt out, and that was the closest thing Hell had to a Friday night.

“I was,” Castiel nods. “I took some liberties with my assignment,” he adds, squinting. “I flattered myself that I shared a special affinity with The Righteous Man.”

“That guy always sounded like kind of a cunt to me,” Dean notes. “You know, not withstanding the fact that I’m him.”

Castiel shrugs. “I found you, and I did what was necessary to save you, and my siblings did what was necessary to save me.” A little falter enters his voice. “Only twelve of us returned from that mission.” Cas looks up, out, away. A dove coos somewhere nearby of the Roadhouse; did it have a run-in with the windshield of an eighteen wheeler one day and show up here, Dean wonders, or does heaven make its own birds from scratch? That’s gotta be a softball compared to whether Betelgeuse is still open for business.

Castiel waits until the bird shuts up, then says, “Of those twelve surviving angels, I personally murdered nine, in everything that followed.”

After a moment Dean says “Yeah,” with practiced neutrality. He’s got some similar tallies, written in Sharpie on the back of his eyelids.

Cas sighs and his attention comes back down to the table. “By the time I received the authority to restore your soul to your body, the infection had spread almost past the point of containment. That’s why I resisted taking a vessel at first. I worried that occupying a human form would speed up the process.”

“Hey now. I thought you showed up naked because you thought I’d be one of those special people,” Dean quips, “Who can handle angel stuff without going all kibbles ’n bits.”

“That was only a partial truth.”

Dean tips the beer bottle in salute. “You’re a real special flavor of asshole, Cas.”

“So I’ve been told. I was right, though. When I took Jimmy as a vessel, I contracted — condensed — myself very severely. The infection had a much shorter distance to travel to reach all of my extremities, and a human form was the most hospitable environment possible.”

“You got a raging case of the Deans.”

Cas’s head kicks back in a laugh that kinda surprises them both. “Yes,” he says, grinning. “I did. I was very displeased, and very concerned I’d be found out and judged unfit for duty. And I very much was. Unfit, that is. Though I was not found out.”

“C’mon, never? You went rogue on the company.”

“Uriel suspected. Naomi certainly detected it later, as did Metatron. But in the moment, no. The Host’s attention was focused on the Apocalypse ahead, not on debriefing a mission that was considered a success. After the Cage was closed, I had too much influence to come under that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmh.” Dean realizes he’s been systematically picking down the label on the beer bottle, so he sets it on the ground before he gets sticky little shreds everywhere. “So I gotta ask. My little souvenir, the handprint. That’s where you grabbed me, with your lil…Mister Potato Head human arm?”

“It is.”

“If I’m the one who infected you, how come I’m the one who got burned?”

“My hand didn’t burn you.”

“Well, it ain’t fingerpaint.”

“Your own soul burned it, as it flowed out of your flesh and into mine. It burned until the moment when I finally released you from my grip. My hand healed itself; your arm did not.” Castiel gives a thin scoff. “I hadn’t planned to leave you interred.”

“Oh, no? Well that’s nice to hear, you know, a decade after the fact. I still have nightmares about that shit.”

Castiel winces. “It’s no excuse, but I was in a great deal of…the equivalent of pain. It took an immense effort to break off the inflow of your soul, and when I did manage it, I was thrown quite a ways by the recoil. By the time I recovered enough to return, you were already looting a gas station,” He finishes, dryly.

“Yeah, well, Dad didn’t think much of leisure as a virtue. Also I was thirsty, because I’d just crawled out of my own grave.”

“And I was distracted, because I’d just fought my way out of the inferno while being digested by a demented human soul.”

“You wanna call it even?”

Cas lifts his brows. “If you don’t mind.”

 There is a long, dark breath, during which their little smiles fade. 

 “So, all that,” Dean says, because he’s a fucking coward.

“All that,” says Cas, because he isn’t.

 Dean clears his throat. “That means you can see my soul-stuff 24/7, huh?”

Castiel slides one leg up onto the bench, shifts to sit astride it, like he’s maybe about to deliver an after-school PSA on the Real Deal About Drugs. “I can always see myself, and extensions of my self. And since your soul made itself into an integral part of me…I can see you.”

“I take it that’s not exactly in the manual.”

“No. I didn’t entirely understand it at first — for a long time, I convinced myself it was because you were designed to be a celestial vessel, and that I had been destined to save you from Hell.”

That thin, acidic feelings starts to rise up in Dean’s chest again. “Do you…” A dry swallow reflex grabs his throat. “Hm. Fuck.”

“What?” Cas asks, scooting forward. An angel. Scooting. What a world. “You can ask me anything, Dean. I hope we’re both past being offended.”

“Have you ever thought that. This whole deal. Our…thing.” Dean lets out a breath. “The way you feel about me. The way I feel about you.”

“Do I worry that its only basis is our shared material?”

Dean licks his lips, works a jaw muscle, forces out a nod. 

Cas frowns, sets one elbow up against the table, then lets his head tip to the side. “Why do you love Sam?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he’s my brother. We got shared material, too. But we’re not talking genetics.”

“Genes were the initial basis of your love for Sam. But you share half as much material with Adam. Do you love him fifty percent as much as you do Sam?”

“One, love doesn’t work that way and you know it, and two, fucking of course not. I barely know the guy, and what I’ve seen didn’t exactly blow me away.” Not that the poor dumb kid ever really had a chance. “Sam’s Sam, he’s earned it a million times over just by bein’ him.”

“Then you understand.”

“But Cas, man…I…” Dean laughs, which is an abbreviated form of screaming, “I treated you like shit.”

Cas nods. “You did.”

“Okay, the rules say you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

“But the balance remains in your favor. Dean, are you genuinely afraid that you — care for me…”  and Dean can hear the FCC live-bleep in that one, like does his total cowardice have a special color Cas can see with his soul-o-vision? “Only out of some compulsion?”

“No,” Dean says, to the great surprise of his frontal cortex, which was busy kicking the shit out of itself. “No,” he says again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that that answer actually came out of him and entered the living air between them.

Then the wave is rolling towards him and he enters that slim moment of body-physics where you either take a lungful and commit to diving under the break, or you kick out against the undertow, arch your back to meet the blow, and let yourself be flown all the way up to the waiting shore––

“No,” Dean says, “I love you.” And he chokes up a little, first at the release of saying it, then at how much of exactly jack-shit it changes anything so what was he even scared of, and then at the look on Cas’s face: how he’s frozen. Like that dog from that video, the one that loved tennis balls so goddamn much that his owner bought him a thousand fucking tennis balls and dumps them out all at once and the dog absolutely stalls the fuck out, just seconds on end of underspecced dog-brain hang time before he finally snaps back to reality and loses his absolute shit scrabbling all over the porch.

Castiel comes back online with a little choking noise of his own, and a kind of awkward scrabble for Dean’s hand.

“I have for a long time,” Dean continues, because apparently he’s continuing, “I’ve loved you for fucking ages, Cas. In people years, anyway, I’m sure that mean’s fuckall to somebody who’s a zillion––”

“I don’t,” Cas says thickly, “really give a damn about the age difference, Dean,” and cracks into a chuckle.

“So how come you never knew it?” Dean asks, feeling freedom turn into a hunger or something like vertigo. “If you can see my soul, how could you not know?”

Cas shrugs, a bit helplessly.

“Seriously,” Dean laughs, “how did I manage to hide that shit so well? Sammy found every nudie mag I ever shoplifted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’ve never actually been able to hide anything from me.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, man. I snowed you plenty, or else we woulda had this conversation dirtside a long time ago.”

“Whatever I missed, Dean…it wasn’t because you succeeded at hiding it,” Castiel says, softly. He takes a slow, shaky breath, and meets Dean’s eyes with a smile. He lifts a hand to Dean’s face, bone and flesh on flesh and bone. “I just loved you enough to look away.”

 It’s a long time before they go back inside. By any measure. {AO3}

[thetenthdoctorscompanion]

25 “Let’s adopt twenty cats together and treat them like our children.” + Sadie/Lydia

“Ugh. I hate men. I hate them!”

Lydia slammed the door to my bedroom, marched across the carpet, and collapsed face-first onto my bed. I snickered, barely looking up from my copy of Heart of Darkness.

“Bad date?”

She lifted her head, violently flipping her hair out of her face to fix me with a stern glare. “It was not a date.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“It doesn’t have to be a date for me to expect common decency and a baseline of human intelligence. And even if that was supposed to be a date, the four hours I just experienced were so abysmal that they would not qualify as a date in any sense of the word.”

“So he didn’t get you off.”

“Please, Sadie. That’s a given.”

I smirked and finally put my book aside. Lydia had been on about a hundred “not-a-dates” over the course of the summer. She’d narrowed her interests down a few options she had in steady rotation, but every now and then another boy would slip her his number and she was take the chance to switch things up. Unfortunately, the longer the summer stretched on, the harder it became to please her. (Emotionally and physically, judging by the explicit details of the stories she insisted on relaying to me.) I couldn’t remember the last time she’d come home in any state of satisfaction.

I nudged her with my foot, prompting her to drag herself up and lean against the wall opposite me. She tangled her legs with mine, folding her arms over her chest and pouting. I squeezed her legs between mine and gave her a pointed look.

“What?” she snapped.

“Okay, the last thing I want to do is have you bite my head off, but I have to ask. If you’re not going on dates then…what exactly are you looking to get out of this?”

Lydia rolled her eyes at me. “I don’t need to be in a relationship to have fun, Sadie.”

“I know that. You also don’t need boys to have fun. And judging by the last few horror stories you’ve told me, you’re not having fun doing this anyway.”

“Yes, I am.”

I gave her another pointed look, spearing her stubbornness and making her deflate. Lydia sighed and ran her hands through her hair. It looked even more red now than it had last year.

“I have fun sometimes,” she amended. “Most of the time, I just…don’t feel much of anything.”

“Is that…the point?” I asked tentatively.

Lydia pursed her lips once more. “Do you really need to psychoanalyze me right now? I’m perfectly capable of evaluating my own neurosis, and I’ve already spent most of the night being told how I feel by someone extremely unqualified to be doing so.”

I raised my hands in surrender and picked up my book again. Lydia always had to do things her way. If she wanted to plunge herself into a string of meaningless, lackluster hookups instead of dealing with the fact that Jackson was gone, that was her prerogative. Trying to get her to talk to me would only make things worse.

Lydia continued to sulk for a few minutes, then untangled her legs from mine. She crawled across the bed to sit next to me instead, leaning her arm against mine as she toyed with her phone. We coexisted in comfortable silence—Lydia scrolling through her phone to set up her next not-a-date, me flipping through my summer reading for the third time. I hated this book so much that no matter how many times my eyes scanned over the pages, the words kept slipping through my brain. Reading Heart of Darkness, I probably wasn’t thinking or feeling any more than Lydia was.

I snapped out of it when Lydia’s phone dropped on top of my book and, instinctually, I rammed my eyes close. These days, when Lydia shoved her phone in my face, it was usually to share an unsolicited picture or obscene text from one of her booty calls—I was adapting to avoid her phone at all costs, just for survival—but for the moment, Lydia snorted and nudged my arm. When I peeled my eyes open to check, her screen simply displayed a take-out menu.

“What do you want for dinner?” she asked with an air of boredom.

“Dinner?” I blinked at her. “Aren’t you going out? I thought you had a double dude feature lined up.”

“I cancelled. If I’m gonna feel like garbage, it might as well be because of too much pizza instead of lame foreplay.”

She was still pretending to be disinterested, but her pursed lips were hiding a smile. Mine grew into a grin and Lydia gave me a playful warning look.

“Choose before I change my mind.”

“Fine, fine. Girls’ night it is.”

And that was what we did. Lydia cancelled her hookups for both the night and the following day. I texted Stiles to let him know I was bailing on video game night to stay in with Lydia. He tried to trash talk me a little, saying that I was hiding because I didn’t want to lose the tournament, but when I reminded him of our current tally of wins and losses in Mario Kart, he promptly dropped the subject.

Hours later, Lydia and I were sprawled on my bedroom floor, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and sharing a dwindling bottle of rum. Lydia had pulled a bottle from her personal stash and spiked some juice, which we were burning through like gas.

Drinking with Lydia was usually very easy. She knew how to hold her liquor, but she was also way smaller than me. Between my height and her experience, we were pretty evenly matched. I wasn’t sure if it was her bad date, her feelings about Jackson, or sheer boredom, but at the moment, it was easy to tell that Lydia was far tipsier than I was.

“How did you do it?” she asked the ceiling. Her legs were tucked up against her chest, feet dangling in the air, her arms keeping her balanced on the carpet. “How did you find a boy who doesn’t suck?”

“Are you actually complimenting Stiles?” I giggled into my drink. “Wow. Now I know you’re drunk.”

Lydia giggled too, and let her legs flop back to the floor with a thump.

“Okay, I know he’s a dork and he’s a nerd and he’s still very much not cool, but I—I try to be nice to him! I try to be nice because you love him and he loves you and—and that’s so important, you know? He loves you so much, and he would do anything for you, and I—I don’t know how you did it or what that feels like or what that’s like!”

My laughter quickly died away. “Lydia…”

“No, it’s fine. It is. It’s fine because I want you to be happy and I’m happy that you’re happy and I’m happy that Stiles is the one who makes you happy, but even if I—even if Jacks—even if he was still here, I don’t know how much would change, you know? We were never—we were never like that. And he changed a lot. He did, I know, and he did so much work, and he was such a better person, and I—I loved him for it. And I think—I know he loved me too, but—but maybe it’s not the same, because…because if he loved me the way Stiles loves you then he would—he wouldn’t have—”

She wasn’t crying, not yet, but I could see her working herself into hysterics. I hurriedly pushed myself up onto my knees and crawled to her. She whined in protest as I lifted her head into my lap, but she quieted down as I combed my fingers through her hair. Slowly, her breathing began to normalize. She sagged against me, her eyes glazed as she continued to stare at the ceiling, and I moved from brushing her hair to absently braiding it. It was the only thing I could think of to keep her present without prying into her thoughts.

I knew Lydia was hurting without Jackson; I also knew she didn’t want to talk about it. Even now, drunker than I’d ever seen her, she couldn’t bring herself to even say his name. She’d always had her insecurities, but if she’d felt worthless when Jackson broke up with her, it was nothing compared to watching him leave a second time. She’d done so much to save him, and he’d still left her behind.

That’s what brought her to the hookups. It was her way of passing the time, of keeping herself occupied so she wouldn’t have time to miss Jackson. So long as boys still wanted her, she wasn’t worthless. So long as she still had a full social calendar, she was still Queen Lydia Martin, the most popular girl at Beacon Hills High School. So long as she kept moving, she wouldn’t have to confront how much things had changed.

I tied off the bottom of the braid and laid Lydia’s head back on the floor, then scooted across the carpet so I could sprawl out next to her. I laid flat on my back, my head lolling to the side to look at her.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing her hand, “you of all people should know that it’s impossible not to love you. You’re Lydia Martin, remember? Parties or werewolves, boyfriend or no boyfriend—you’re the smartest, strongest person I know. You’re perfect all on your own. Lydia Martin doesn’t need anyone.”

“That’s not true.” Lydia’s voice was soft, and she shook her head at the ceiling. “I need you.”

The words made me smile. I opened my arms as Lydia rolled onto her side, curling up next to me and laying her head on my shoulder.

“Well then,” I said, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. You’re not allowed to. I’m serious, Sadie. You—you’re gonna live here until we graduate, and then we’re gonna go to college together, and get a little apartment while we job hunt, and then we can get a house, and Allison can come and visit and—cats! Let’s adopt twenty cats together and treat them like our children!”

I snorted, my back rocking off the floor in a way that sent Lydia into another tirade of giggles.

“Yeah, you’re definitely drunk,” I observed.

“I know,” she said, still beaming at me. “But I am serious. You’re not allowed to leave me, Sadie. Promise.”

“I promise, Lydia. I’m not going anywhere.”

[something-tofightfor]

2022: New Year, Same Blog

Yesterday, I said that I would update all of you on things that were coming in 2022 to my blog - some of them are current works that will be finished, others are brand new … and I’m sure there will be a few surprises. 

First: Like I said a couple days ago, I want to start using my Discord to talk with you because Tumblr is unreliable when it comes to messaging and sending asks. This is a way to keep in contact without having to share a phone number or other very personal information.

 You can find me at somethingtofightfor#7728. 

If you send me a request, please just let me know your username on here / what you want me to call you so I can add it to the notes and know who you are. 

Second: I’m going to start posting a weekly writing recap on Sunday nights. I won’t use a taglist or anything on it, but this way, if a story or an update somehow didn’t show up in the search results earlier in the week, there’s a second chance for things to be seen. 

Depending on how much I write and post, I may change this so it’s bi-weekly. We’ll see how it goes. I’m going to tag it “STFF recap” in case you want to follow the tag or whatever; IDK if anyone’s interested in that. 

…. And now onto the fun stuff, under the cut! 

Coming Soon (likely in this order!) 

Slopeside - the NYE story that I’ve been teasing. Mystery Pedro character + skiing + the last of the holiday magic. It is a smut. The character lends himself to it very easily, even when out of his element. 

Magnetic 21 - It’s done, it just needs edits and a title. Just under 12,000 words. 

Buried 9 - Cider’s POV is complete. I want to start writing Jack’s and see if it makes sense to include it in the same piece, or do another .5 as a separate chapter. 

Aphelion 5 - Planning on devoting a good chunk of time today and tomorrow to working on this. I hope to get a draft to @the-blind-assassin-12 to Alyssa by the end of the week (1/9)

Caught On 4 - I’m about 3200 words into this one, and it’s… something. (Spoiler alert: someone feels guilty and it isn’t you)

A Detour in Your New Life  - Part of the Just Too Good to Be Gone universe, this will be a recap of not only meeting Joel, but getting to know him - and telling him about your version of before. 

Planned/In Progress 

On Deck: (Jack Daniels baseball AU) - I’ll probably start posting this one around the beginning of the 2022 MLB regular season (if there is one because of the lockout). Look for it to start around the end of March. Should only be a couple parts to tell the main story - 3, maybe 4?

No One Sings Like You Anymore / Burdened Black Heart: (Joel Miller x Reader, JTGtBG universe) - I’ll get these done as I can, but they’re going to be longer one shots. BBH will likely not be a smutty one, No One Sings is DEFINITELY a smutty one. 

Untitled Javi P horror/soulmate AU series: I want to keep as much of this one hidden as I can. I know the basic plot, I know the outcome, I just need to write it - this one will be scary and violent (but also smutty, because … Javi). 

Starlight: (Ezra x Reader) I’m still not sure if I want these to be super long or super short, but this is going to flesh out the relationship. I intended this to be a short series with half of each part taking place before The Green and half after Ezra gets back … but we’ll see. 

Stuff I have in Google Docs and will get to if there’s interest 

More for Baby It’s Cold Outside Frankie and Reader

More for Just Be-Claus Marcus and Reader

The Thief/Reader from ‘Empty’ in other scenarios

A Marcus Moreno Thing that has about three paragraphs and zero plot 

Liminality

NSFW Alphabets for Joel, Jack, and (lord help me) Frankie Morales

I want to finish in 2022: 

Magnetic

Buried

Caught On

Just a Place

Seasons to Cycles

If there’s anything that you’d like to see me write or work on, don’t EVER hesitate to let me know. My inbox is always open, and honestly, some of the stories that I’ve posted on here have come straight from conversations and offhand comments from friends and followers. 

[spookysweet-heart]

Just Another Runaway?

Parings: Circus!Egos x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtuber Egos (Mark, Jack, and Nate)

Warning: Vague mention of abuse

A/N: Hello! I deleted the original work I had because I wanted to change a few things. I hope you all like this new Introduction to this Circus series! The lovely aesthetic I’ll be using for this intro is by the very talented @huffle-princess​! Thank you again for letting me use your aesthetics! Edited by @semiproeagle23​

           Life was never the greatest, you had to admit that. From the screaming, to the fights, the bruises, and tears. The only escape you had from what was supposed to be your home, was the local Gym. A little weird, but they had a gymnastics section in there and that’s where you loved to go.

Your best friend since childhood, Stretch, is the owner's daughter. She goes to the same school you do. You two would always be at the Gym after school for a bit, and you’d always find the time to practice some moves and get a workout done with some of the other girls who were practicing. 

Though you would never really join in, you were more off to the side. 

Stretch would help you cover up bruises you had that were visible, but you could see it in her face that she was worried about you, though you always told her you were fine and pushed through it.

Those unspoken words you and her shared when she looked at the pain you were in always ended in you running away at the end of the day, but none were successful.

You made plans and sure you were careful to the tiniest detail, perfecting it after each attempt you took. 

Failure after failure, you never gave up. The first few times after being brought back home from the cops, you were yelled at, degraded. 

It took a couple more years, but once you turned 17, you decided to go through with your new plan you worked so hard on.

Packing up some things in your backpack, you made sure to take everything you needed. You went to school as normal, and hung out with your friends. You weren’t really paying attention to their conversation at lunch till you saw one of them pull out a flier out of her bag. 

“What’s that?” You looked over curiously at the piece of paper.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s a traveling Circus coming into town.” You shook your head and Sam smiled at you. “I heard this Circus only pops up for one week in the year.”

Meer rolled her eyes. “So what? You’re saying it like it’s supposed to be scary?”

“Well, it is. I heard each town this Circus goes to at least one kid from the town goes missing and they never see them again. They say the Circus is for the lost souls of the living.” Stretch made a face while making spooky noises.

The whole table burst into laughter. You pointed at the flier and asked.  “Where is it going to be?”

“In the middle of the woods two miles away from the abandoned train tracks.” Sam piped up in excitement.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Meer raised an eyebrow, looking confused at her friend.

“Jordan from science said he was in the woods this morning and he saw them set everything up.” Sam said as she took a bite of her food.

“Jordan?! You can’t believe everything that kid says.” Meer looked at Sam like she was joking.

“Why not?” Stretch asked as she slid the flier over to you when she saw you trying to look at it.

“The kid’s kinda weird, like not normal weird.” Meer made a face and took a sip of her juice. 

You rolled your eyes and carefully folded the flier, putting it in your bag. “Just because he’s really into science doesn’t make him weird. He just likes what he studies.” 

Standing up from the table and making your way to your next class, Stretch stopped you in the hallway. "Hey! Are we still going to the gym after school? You haven't been going the past week and the coach is starting to get worried."

Adjusting your backpack, you gave her a small smile. "Yeah, about that. I just haven't been feeling too well and haven’t been up to going to the gym."

"Is everything okay? (Y/n), your parents aren't-"

"No! No…they aren't, I just haven't been up to going lately. I'm sorry, I have to get to my class."

Right as you started to walk away, she grabbed your arm. "(Y/n), whatever it is you're going through, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

You nodded and gave her a brighter smile. "Yeah, of course I know. I'll see you around, okay?" Taking back your arm, you headed off to your next class.

------

Towards the end of the day, you had a free period for your last class, so you decided to go look through the school's library. Besides gymnastics, you always loved reading when you were actually home. Scary stories were what you loved to read. Sure, it was a bit childish, but you loved it because you would control the fear and how it affected you. 

Your eyes scanned the shelves of many horror novels, comics, and picture books. Though….you noticed one book in particular. It looked a little odd to the rest.

Picking it out, you saw the cover was faded. There were spots of brown and red, the spine was a bit torn, and the pages looked like they could crumble with the lightest touch.

Taking a look at the cover, the faintest words could be made out. "The Circus of Souls….I read that somewhere- no way…" Quickly taking the flier out of your bag, you put it side by side with the book. "They're the same…."

Gently opening the book, you saw drawings of a ringleader in the shadows with a wicked smile. In his hand held a cane with a small orb. His eyes were hidden by the top hat. What looked like red and black smoke surrounded him.

There were images of a magician in a mask with glowing potions in his hands, a man who seemed to be surrounded by purple smoke singing to a crowd. A mystic and dark fortune teller. A man in pink wearing a blindfold and holding knives. And a girl with glowing green eyes standing next to a tiger.

Every page had a story and specific person to it. Staring at the picture of the Ringleader, you were lost in thought when the last bell rang. You jumped as it brought you back to reality. 

Looking around and making sure no one was near, you placed the book and flier into your bag heading out of the school as fast as you could. 

Holding your bag close, you walked towards the woods, not looking back. You started walking the trail until you turned away from it. 

Carefully, you maneuvered your way through the trees and bushes, making your way to the abandoned train tracks.

Moving through a bush, you made it to the other side to where the track was. Looking around at the abandoned train cars, you sat at the edge of the tracks, taking out a water bottle from your backpack. You sighed after taking a sip, and looked up at the sky, seeing it was pretty cloudy out today. Tugging your jacket a bit closer to your body, you decided to explore the cars that were open.

You knew some homeless people used to live in them, but no one ever saw them around much anymore, so you figured it was safe. Climbing into one, you carefully took out your flashlight and looked around. It was mostly dusty and smelled of rotting food and rusted metal.

In the corner of your eye, you thought you saw black smoke outside of the car, but when you turned to it, it wasn't there. "Weird…" Jumping out of the car, you turned off your flashlight and took out the flier again. Examining it, you saw the picture of the Circus Ringleader. His eyes were, again, covered by his hat and what was supposed to be a charming smile actually looked malicious.

Taking a deep breath in, you turned around to see the black smoke just barely disappear again. You raised an eyebrow at this until you heard the faint sound of music. It was something you'd hear from a music box or a children's lullaby. 

Before you knew it, your feet were walking towards the distant sound. In your head, you were protesting, but it felt like something else was controlling your movement.

Squeezing through tight areas, climbing and jumping from car to car, you put good use into the years you'd taken gymnastics. Keeping your balance and heart rate at a steady pace, you felt like you were being watched with each move you made. 

With the music getting a little louder, you knew you were going the right way. After a while, you found yourself willingly going towards the music instead of fighting back. Curiosity grew with each step, knowing you were that much closer to seeing the source. 

Climbing up onto a tree, you hung onto one of the branches by your hands, carefully pulling yourself up to sit on the sturdy branch. In the distance, you saw it. The circus tents, the lights, the music….everything looked so inviting.

Deciding to stick with staying in the trees so you wouldn't be seen, you managed to swing from one branch to another.

As you got closer and closer, you sat on a branch a good distance away. Placing your bag on your, lap you took out the book and looked over at the tents. "This can't be real…" Opening the book again you saw the circus layout was exactly the same.

Flipping through the pages, you saw two acrobat and tightrope walkers. One was in a blue outfit and the other in a green matching outfit, both standing side by side. Flipping through the pages of story and art, something caught your eye. 

There was a drawing of four silhouettes, but it felt incomplete. Lightly brushing a finger over one, you thought your eyes were playing tricks when you saw golden specks appear when you did so.

Closing the book, you sighed as you put it away. You jumped a bit when you heard a twig snap from underneath you. Quickly putting a hand over your mouth and bringing your knees closer to you, you tried to hide as best as you could.

"Don't be such a frightened stranger. I'm not gonna hurt ya. But it's no use hiding when I already saw you up there."

Your heart dropped hearing that. The man's words meant no harm, but his tone told a different story. 

Glancing down at the figure below, you realized who it was. Carefully, you made your way down the tree and stood a good distance away from the man in the red suit.

“Well, what do we have here? A spectator?” He looked over at your bag and noticed how full it was. His smile grew, making him seem more intimidating. “Ah, just another runaway, I see.” Taking off his top hat, you saw his eyes for the first time. Piercing bright red eyes stared down at you as you took a step back. “Now, now….as I said before, no need to be afraid….yet, at least. Let me introduce myself.” He reached his hand out for you to shake. “My name is Phantom, I’m the ringleader of this Circus here, if you couldn’t tell already.”

Hesitantly, you shook his hand. A shiver ran down your spine when his cold hand touched yours. “N-Nice to meet you…” Taking your hand back, you immediately shoved it into your jacket pocket, surrounding it with warmth.

Phantom stood up straight again and placed his hat on his head. “Tell you what, kid, I’ll give you four free tickets to the Circus Of Souls. They’re valid for the whole week we’re here. You and three of your friends can have all the fun you’d like, my treat.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out four tickets. He smiled as he handed them to you. “You look like you could use a little fun in your life.”

Taking the tickets, you looked up at the man who now you know as Phantom. “There has to be a catch. You don’t just give tickets away like that…”

Phantom held his stomach as he laughed to himself. “Of course, everything has a price to pay. So what would you pay for happiness, then?”

“If I’m being honest….anything really…”

Phantom started to smile again, but you noticed it was the same wicked smile he had, like the picture in the book. “Anything….interesting.” He looked up at the sky for a moment before he heard someone shout by the big tent. “Well, looks like I have to go. You should get home before it gets dark. The woods are a scary place to be at night. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we. Go home, I’ll see you soon, (Y/n).”

As he turned away, you looked down at the tickets and looked confused because you never gave him your name….so how did he know it? Just as you looked back up to get his attention again, he was gone.

Tag List:

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[hannigramficrecs]

Soulmates

Hanging Tree by ChuckleVoodoos [words: 12,950]

Will has often wondered sort of person his soulmate must be, to have cast such a sinister mark onto his skin. The larger the mark, the stronger the bond, the stronger the influence of the other partner. He thinks of the marks he’s seen—pastel flowers, shimmering butterflies, tender words of love and connection. He gets a twisted tree right out of Halloween Town.

But Seas Between Us Braid Hae Roar'd by KareliaSweet [words: 18,59]

Eight years, it's been happening. Since Will was fifteen years old. The first time, he thought it was a seizure. He still doesn't know what it is, really, but after the fifth time he realized it was... something. Whoever he was switching with was real, and human, and just as terrified as he was.

The Knife and the Lure by KareliaSweet [words: 2,756]

"Do you have a soulmate?" Hannibal is nothing if not direct when he wants to be. Will wrinkles his face into a grumpy scowl. "I don't believe in that." Hannibal blinks thoughtfully. "It's not a question of belief, Will. It's science."

Blank Silence by KuteKittehs

Will's link to his soulmate has been silent for years. Then he walks into Jack Crawford's office and meets Hannibal Lecter.

Kaleidoscopic by stratumgermanitivum [words: 2,815]

Everyone sees the world in black and white. When you meet your soulmate, you get your first color. The others come, little by little, as you get to know each other. You can't see the world in color until you can see your soulmate, every piece. Will Graham meets Hannibal Lecter with a sharp and unexpected flash of red.

More Myself Than I Am by stratumgermanitivum [words: 9,176]

Everyone has a soulmate. Someone they will connect with on such an intimate level that they are like one mind in two bodies. It comes on the cusp of adulthood, a shared link between two minds. It will start with feelings, emotions shared across the connection. Some people claim senses; smell and sound. Those who are thoroughly, intensely intertwined can claim to send their very thoughts towards each other, although it’s generally considered bad luck to use the connection to find each other sooner than you are meant to. It is a wonderful thing, to know that no matter who you are or what you’ve done, somebody out there will understand you. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

Words of the Past by LeiMcCartney [words: 17,533]

A mute ex-actor, Will Graham has fallen into a despondent state until a dinner out with his friend, Alana, gets him to cross paths with one artist Hannibal Lecter who says his soulmate words....however, Will can't say anything back. Hannibal just wants to keep Will next to him.

You Knit Me Together by menaraline [words: 33,183]

Will finds it terrifying that his everything has been built and crafted for the sake of someone else. It is with great relief, however, that he finds this person—his soulmate—to be a kind person (a kind person whom he thinks he can, one day, even love). Hannibal, on the other hand, takes this as an insult. In other words: Hannibal and Will are not soulmates. Hannibal finds this intolerable and, to be frank, rude, but he is nothing if not cunning. Consequently, Will faces the repercussions of something that isn’t really his fault (as always).

The Sound of Your Voice by KareliaSweet [words: 3,383]

You can hear once you meet your soulmate (the first thing you hear is their voice)

Soulmates by KareliaSweet [words: 4,747]

A series of one-shots revolving around soulmate-identifying tropes.

Mark by black_dranzer_1119 [words: 6,612]

Most people when they are born, are born with a mark. This mark would then help them find the person, or people, they are destined for. Will was not one of these people.

Your Name by cucumber_of_doom [words: 482]

Will is thirteen when the name appears on the inside of his left wrist. Sadly, his soulmate's handwriting is unreadable.

The Silent and the Violent by Watermelonsmellinfellon [words: 2,656]

Soulmate Hannigram AU where Hannibal falls in love with this sweet, twitchy baker who makes the best sweets Hannibal's ever tasted. The thing is, Hannibal doesn't have a soulmark; so of course the good doctor just has to hunt whoever has Will's. After a lot of misunderstanding, (Will thinks Alana and Hannibal are going out and Hannibal thinks he is doesn't have a soulmate) Hannibal finds out Will is actually mute and on his wrist is Hannibal's very specific order

Where the Albatross Crash-Lands by HigherMagic [words: 40,220]

Everyone has two marks on their arm: one is the name of their soulmate, the other is the name of their mortal enemy. There's no way of knowing which is which. This same trick of fate makes it so that your Marks are the only two voices you will ever hear when you go deaf at sixteen. Hannibal has a nice voice. Will hopes he's his mate. He hopes he never hears the voice of the Chesapeake Ripper.

The Hunt by rainbowdracula [words: 5,969]

Will never wanted to meet his soulmate. Fate has never been kind to him.

Les Bois Du Cerf by Breakmybones (CarterReid) [words: 24,406]

Will was different, that was obvious. He dreamed of killers, darkness and flames devouring feathers - things that no normal person would ever think of. But he wasn't normal. And neither was his soul-mark.

Better Than None by stratumgermanitivum [words: 2,414]

Will’s soulmark is inconvenient. It splays across the knuckles of his right hand, a blue-black ink stain. When he walks through a crowd, he has to constantly check his hand to make sure he hasn’t touched anyone. They say you feel it, when you connect, but Will checks anyway. There are a thousand ways to accidentally brush your knuckles against someone, and even Will, as solitary as he is, yearns for the connection the mark promises him. Most days. Some days, he stares at his tinted skin and worries about what kind of person would be matched to a man like him.

Hidden Potential by sourweather [words: 20,789] 

The first time you make eye contact with your soul mate, you see a vision of their greatest accomplishment. They call it your Peak. Unfortunately for Will Graham, his soul mate's Peak is a vision of blood and horror. Fortunately for Hannibal Lecter, his soul mate's is too.