#I dunno I’m sorry for rambling I’ll shut it now

[transk0vsky]

What do you think would be the best ending for Daniil?

My honest opinion I think the best ending for him is not going back to the capital (that’s implied to be a death sentence for him. But he could probably get by for a bit without detention at least long enough to collect his things and sort out his affairs.) but I also don’t think staying in the town is a good ending for him either? He doesn’t want to be there long term sure there’s people there he likes but that isn’t enough to keep a person in one place.

Pardon the projection for a moment but I’ve been in a situation where I liked the people but I loathed the place, I stayed there and became unhappy and resentful I slowly spiraled into depressive episodes. I think a similar thing would happen to him while you can argue he’d get used to it after a while! I don’t think that’s a good enough reason for him to stay there? I don’t think he’d want to stay there even if going ‘home’ is no longer in the cards.

Truthfully the best ending for him is going somewhere that’s unrelated to either place restarting his life (while difficult) would probably be his best bet. Also depending on who you view as alive post game the people he cares about in the town who’d be his only reason for staying….aren’t there anymore. I also think post canon he has survivors guilt and he would have ptsd (I think all three healers would actually but that’s not what we’re here discuss) I think the town in of itself would be a huge trigger for him. So staying there even for people he cares of would just be causing him further stress.

I don’t really think there’s a happy ending for him no matter the place he just has to continue living live moves forward no matter what happens to you, it’s sad but true what for you was an earth shattering event for the world isn’t more then just another Wednesday….you have to continue living with scars that won’t heal.

But anyone’s cool to disagree with me obviously but I personally think the best case scenario for him is moving to a brand city and keeping a low profile maybe if he plays his cards right he can be a professor for a university or he could go onto mentor a upcoming thanatologist….maybe he can help someone blossom where he wilted.

[midnightmorpher]

💻 DCA AU Idea: Digital Horror 💻

This is my first time posting a DCA AU so I’m sorry if my post sounds more like disconnected rambling ahaha 🥲 But here goes!

The DCA duo in a digital horror setting.

Think KinitoPet but instead of Kinito as the mascot of a long-lost pet game, it’s Sun and Moon as the face of an old creature collection/virtual pet game created by Fazbear Corp on their old 90s company, kid-friendly website.

Think like a mix between Pokémon and Neopets, speaking as someone who played too much Pokemon and played literally zero Neopets 👍🏻

One day many years after the website has been shut down, You hear rumors about a “haunted” pet game made by the Fazbear Corp and decide to check it out, because you didn’t watch enough horror movies to know this is a terrible idea :>

The game (archived and run on a server supported by Fazbear fans, I don’t know much about tech so I dunno if this is even possible but whatever) runs like it should when you first enter it. However, it starts acting up when you input your old username…

I might start writing this as a fic once I’m further along on my current fic, so for now I’ll just be dumping my AU ideas on this blog haha

Here’s a summary and a brief snippet I wrote because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone:

Virtual pet game websites are a dime in a dozen. You might’ve tried out one or two in your childhood, but memories of that are fuzzy at best. It’s only when your classmate brings up a particular website hosted by Fazbear Corporation that you begin to remember playing it briefly during its heydays, and you decide to visit it for nostalgia’s sake.

=0=

“Welcome to Sun and Moon’s Superstar Daycare!” the computerized voice of the sunny jester character trills. He lounges on top of the window asking you to create a new account, kicking his curly-tipped shoes merrily in the air as he eagerly awaits your input. His bouncy avatar, its details showing hours of love and dedication poured into each brush stroke, paints a hilarious contrast against the shoddy art that makes up the background of the game. You don’t really care, though. It’s not like anyone plays these types of games for its art.

Your hands hover over the keyboard. After a moment’s hesitation, you try to enter your old username.

“Starbite”

Most likely the “Sorry, this username has already been taken” prompt will pop up since you clearly remember using it as a kid, but there’s no harm in trying. You click on the “Confirm” option.

Nothing happens.

Weird. Is it hanging? You click it again, and again. Nothing happens. Even Sun has frozen still. Yep, it’s definitely hanging. Pity, but it’s not too unexpected considering the game’s age. You decide to fall back on the good ol’ cure: spamming the mouse button. clickclickclickclickclickcli

his eyes flick up to stare at you

The shock shoots through your whole being like a lightning bolt. You gasp sharply, eyes fluttering close for a brief moment before they’re cast on the computer screen again.

“Welcome back, Starbite!” Sun says. He takes center stage in a field of rudimentarily drawn grass, the baby blue sky matching the bright smile stretching from “ear” to “ear”, like nothing had happened. “Go forth and pick a Faz Pet to be your forever companion, and I hope you enjoy your stay at our esteemed daycare!”

The character delivers his scripted lines like he should.

The character has his arms up in celebration like he should.

The character smiles at you like he should.

So what is this cold dread trickling down your spine…?

[viridian-love]

— 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆?

relationship: familial / platonic!harry x hermione x weasleys

warnings: mentions of harry’s past abuse with the dursleys (only about where he slept, nothing graphic).

words: 964

Everyone knows Harry is tiny for a boy his age. He was usually the pick of the litter to squeeze into tiny spaces to retrieve lost or fallen objects. He didn’t mind it, nor did he mind closed spaces because of his time spent at the Dursley’s under the stairs. Sure, he’ll get the occasional panic attack in tight enclosed spaces for too long, but it’s nothing he hasn’t handled himself before.

When Harry spends Christmas at the Weasley’s with all of Ron’s siblings there plus Hermione, it’s a tight squeeze. Hermione obviously rooms with Ginny, but Molly didn’t really find a reason for the boys to move so they stayed where they were and Harry would just squeeze in Ron’s room with Ron and the twins. They were informed of it during dinner the first night of Christmas break.

“Well, I don’t see why the boys should move. It’ll be a bit of a squeeze as Charlie already shares a room with Bill and Percy already has the smallest room. Harry, dear, you’re gonna have to share with the twins and Ron since their room will be able to fit all of you,” Molly apologetically stated as she stared at Harry with a sorry gaze. The boy, bless his heart, smiled softly and understandingly back at the Weasley matriarch.

“It’s quite alright, Molly. I’m tiny, I can fit in there.” Harry let out a slight chuckle as Molly fondly rolled her eyes at the raven-haired boy.

“I dunno, mate. The twins have a lot of stuff for their pranks and it takes up a lot of room. I have my books scattered everywhere too. There isn’t really much room. Why can’t he stay with-,” Ron’s rambling was cut off by Harry’s joking hush.

“That’s fine, Ron. I used to sleep under the stairs at the Dursley’s,” Harry supplied nonchalantly as if that was the most normal thing in the world and spooned another mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. As he chewed, his ears picked up on the sudden silence at the table. He lifted his emerald eyes only to be met with gazes of a mixture of shock, anger, sadness, and curiosity. His head turned as he heard Ron clear his throat.

“You slept where, now?” Ron’s voice was so quiet, had it not been silent, Harry wouldn’t have been able to hear it. His eyes darted to the rest of the Weasley household and Hermione. “Uhh,” Harry started as he cautiously put his spoon down, “the, um, stairs. There was a, ah, a cupboard of sorts under there. It was where I slept up until I got my Hogwarts letter.” The tiny boy’s voice slowly grew quieter as he spoke and his fingers started to pull on the ends of his sweater that Molly had knitted him. 

The table was quiet for awhile and Harry started to feel uncomfortable, regretting ever saying anything to begin with. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Harry quietly coughed and pushed his chair away from the table. It was like the noise snapped everyone out of their trance as they looked at Harry slowly backing away from the table. His eyes darted anywhere but the people in the room as he stumbled over his words to escape the awkwardness and impending pity from them.

“I’m just gonna go, um, set up my sleeping bag. In the room. I, uh, I’ll meet you guys up there. Night. Thank you for dinner, Molly. It was delicious as always.” And with that, the little boy dashed away from the kitchen and into the bedroom where he’ll be residing in. 

The second he heard the door gently shut because no Harry doesn’t have a fear of loud sudden sounds what, Ron bolted out of his chair with his wand in hand and his face carved in absolute and terrifying fury. 

All hell broke loose.

Bill was at the opposite end of the table to Arthur so he was in Ron’s path to get to the door. The eldest Weasley nearly tipped his chair over to catch Ron by his waist and pull him back. Shouting commenced as everyone tried to keep Ron at bay and going to AK those wretched relatives of Harry’s. Bill eventually had to wrestle Ron to the floor, but even with his strength, it wasn’t enough. With Bill pinning Ron on his stomach on the floor, Charlie and the twins restrained his arms and legs. Ginny and Hermione sat on Bill’s back to keep them both down. Molly and Arthur were wrestling the wand out of Ron’s hand as Ron continued to shout profanities over everyone’s yelled attempts to calm him down.

“No! I will not calm down, Ginny! Do not even-,”

“Ron, for Merlin’s sake! Let go of the damn wand right no-,”

“Ronniekins, you have to calm down-”

“Or mum will hex you into next week!”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, someone knock him out already!”

“Don’t you dare, Fre-,”

An audible thunk could be heard from Ron’s head as his struggle ceased and he became limp on the floor underneath Bill’s, Ginny’s, and Hermione’s weights. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief as Molly fell onto her rear with Arthur supporting her after they let go of Ron’s wand that was in an iron grip. It was a surprise it didn’t break with the force they had put into trying to pry it out of the red-head’s hand.

Ginny and Hermione carefully got off of Bill’s back and helped him sit up beside his unconscious younger brother. Everyone was panting, trying to regain their breath. The younger Weasley had an awful lot of sudden strength and it surprised everyone. Seems like he was much more protective of Harry than they thought.

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

Let's hear them secret scientist headcannons, Ma. Pretty please 🙏🥺

huehuheuheuhwlhbsjhbclah~ y’all know what it is, mostly rambling I wrote most of this waiting for the dentist lol

Drew (Audrey do not call her that omg Saturday)

Mama’s albino. Isee it with my eyes and just feel it in my bones. She’s pale, her hair is pale, I she even had baby blues in TGIS so, yeah. 

Drew isn’t a huge fan of chocolate, opposites since Mom Monday had a thing for cocoa. Maybe she doesn’t have a thing for sweets in general? Like I can see Drew as more of a FoodSnack person rather than SweetSnack person. She’ll be like, “I want a snack,” And spend like 2 hours prepping the stuff for a food item that will be gone in 20 minutes and somehow, she’ll find a way to convince Doc to “help” with the cleanup after.

She always wanted a big family, But only managed to have Zak. She loves her family regardless, it's just not the way she thought they'd be. I mean, come on; Her and Doc are so romantic all the time, like there’s no way they woulda stopped at just one. If she could have given Zak a sibling, she would have, but it wasn’t in the cards. So, adoption, lmao.

My girl is a mystic through and through but she is not mystically inclined. She could tear out her hair and make a deal with the devil, and still not be able to conjure her own magic at all, but she is so well versed in it, you’d think she was a sorcerer or something. (Maybe she could, oh I dunno, help her magical buddies out with that know-how, huh?)

Doc “Solomon” Saturday

My guy has some serious PTSD and OCD issues that he hasn’t quite sorted out, and I’ll bet he’s scared to go into it given all the times he’s started talking about it, only to immediately shut himself up about it.

Like, seriously, my man needs a therapist.

I’m laughing and wringing my hands together like Argost himself thinking about all the fun times we’re gonna have with mr. Magic Doesn’t Exist now that he’s gotta help his new Angel Daughter find her friends. Sorry Solomon, but you’re gonna have an aneurysm.

Doyle Blackwell  **Professional Uncle

Such a cool dude, he can’t drink alcohol because he’s too cool to get buzzed (he's allergic to alcohol and will turn beet red after one drink help this poor man)

I get a lot of, “I dont deserve an apartment,” vibes from this guy so I say he needs more “Chillin at home with the fam,” And less “Shitty hostels wherever the cheapest.” Also man needs a gf (or bf, ffs nobody want him fr!!11!)

He's bi, and I know cuz he told me lmao

Paul Cheechoo (Uncle Bear!👏🏼 Uncle Bear! 👏🏼Uncle Bear!👏🏼)

Okokokokok, so I am super super projecting here because Cheechoo deadass reminds me of an uncle who is A.) also native af, we’re not Inuit but were fuckin n8v; and B.) also a fuckin geologist lesgoooooo

So guys got a big family, huge actually. Lots of cousins and nieces and nephews and aunties and uncles and such- making it a bit hard and a bit sad keeping the whole Secret Scientist thing away from his family. Especially after the Weird world incident when he became withdrawn from them, fearing Argost might do something horrible to his kin. So, he kept mostly to himself, confiding only in his fellow scientists.

I feel like his sarcasm and friendly demeanor is so sweet and endearing, especially for someone so friggin big, I mean good god- Look at this man. The friendly giant trope always gets me, so what? BUT! That being said, I’d like to think that sometimes my guy forgets how big he is… Like, we’ve seen how this guy gets tossed around like a ragdoll, maybe he also forgets he’s a brick shithouse, given all the times he’s gotten his ass whooped.

Man is Golden Retriever coded, and I wanna eat him alive for it./pos

Arthur Fuckin Beeman

My man! *kills him again and again and again and again an-*

Also, I love how we all saw this man, we all looked at each other, and we all said, “Yeah, he's autistic af.” Like, it's very clear that this man’s brain works… differently from others.

My brother once said, Liaos from Dungeon Meshi if he didn’t want to eat the aliens he just wanted to hang out and honestly…. Werk.

Does this man deserve an arc? Not really, but do I wanna put him in a few fucked up situations? Hang him upside down and shake him till all his tokens fall out? Maybe. Maybe Zak’ll help me, too. Shit…

Miranda Grey (Big Grey)

Ooooooohohohohohohohohoooo~ We hardly got anything with you, Doctor. Which means I can do whatever, and I both hate and love that-

I know you love your sister~ I know you’re sad about her betrayal~~ I know you’re hurting, girly, I know your devastated inside and you can’t do anything about it because so much shit is falling apart around you and now your sister fucked over the only people you can call friends, fuck you Miranda! Eat shit and die! ILY!!

I reeeeeeaaaaly think she’s guilty about what she’s done to the Saturdays, especially Zak, so maybe she might try and say or do something to try and make amends, but how? Thats a good question… I wanna know too, lmao.

Abbey Grey (Little Grey)

Ooooooooooooooooh~~~

I have plans for you, stupid bitch……

Agent Ex husband

The scariest mfer in all existence, most stifled man in all existence, omg. If War were ever made a fucking human, Epsilon would be his fate, and holy fuck- Yeah. Stoic? Check. Bound by a strict code of ethics/honor? Check. Big As Shit? Check. Scary????? Umm, yeah. My mans a Horseman.

Wants to be loved. Wants to rest. Wants to have a cigarette for the first time in years. Wants some coffee with extra cream and sugar. Does he deserve it? No,not really. But he does need it. His soul needs a good kneading, like dough.

However, he is fucked up for the way he raised Francis and how he’s always shutting hom down and telling him how his thoughts don’t matter like, damn, just tell the boy he aint shit why dont you-

I feel like, if I give Francis an arc, Epsilon should have one too. I wanna know more about him- surprise surprise- and what makes him tick. We see in the show that there is some care for Francis, we see as much when he gets so mad at Francis for not quickly following his instructions, but that begs the question; does he actually care, or is he protecting his interests, so to speak? Lots to learn, lots to pick apart.

[go-to-the-mirror]

It's time, y'all!! The penultimate episode of season 4!! Jmart!!!

Uh, didn't draw anything again, but whatever. I mean. I dunno. Shrug.

it's time, now. episode 159. this is going to make me feel emotions.

this is mostly rambling.

@a-mag-a-day

CW for unreality; discussion of free will; second person POV (i keep doing it); potentially anxiety inducing rambling (don't know how this happened, related to the "you don't know the people you love" thing);

The title "The Last" could either a nod to Peter's line "You're the last one standing" or it could be... well... the last mark.

Hated it when I figured that out. Absolutely despised it.

ARCHIVIST (Calling) Martin! (Calling) Martin!

I'm sorry we're like five second in and it's just like hhh, he's in love, he's looking for Martin, love is real and Jon has it! It just makes me so abnormal when it's like, he's not even saying anything it's just! Aaa!! *points frantically*

PETER It’s odd, really. You each think you’re so focused on the other. But how much do you really know each other? How much time have you spent together when not working, or bickering, or fleeing from that latest thing that wants to kill you? So what are you seeking? The image you’ve each created of the other? The people you think you love don’t exist, not really. And that’s a very lonely place to be. ARCHIVIST (Vicious) Shut up. (calling) Martin!

Firstly, yeah, I feel that. I mean like, don't want to overshare or anything, but yeah.

You know how your head's always like "but they wouldn't like me if they knew the real me!" Mate, there is no real you. Like Sasha said, right, it's all just people playing characters. And sometimes those characters feel like you, but they're all made up of things in your head and memories you've had and at the end of the day, are we all not puppets pulled along by circumstance, fooling ourselves into thinking we have choices and identities. I think I need to put a CW on this-

I mean, that's attempted optimistic nihilism. What about... if you do a good job keeping up the charade, they'll never find out it's not the real you, but you will never be truly loved.

Wow, that helps less. Do not come here for advice.

ARCHIVIST (Mean) Make me. (considering) Unless you can’t. The Lonely and the Eye aren’t too far apart, are they? Not really. What good’s being alone if you don’t know how alone you truly are. Which means… Well, I think you’re worried. You know I’ll find him eventually and you know I can find you. (Beat) Hm. Thought so.

Damn, judgmental. Just the note "mean". I- rude??

Also, secondly, I'm saying this as someone with social anxiety and consequent... isolationist tendencies (read: I didn't talk to anyone for a whole summer) but the Ceaseless Watcher and The One Alone have always felt really... connected to me.

I mean, what better way to feel alone than to be convinced everyone's judging you. You convince yourself everyone wants you gone, you just barely hear them say your name as you leave the room.

Everyone's looking at you, you can't go in now, so better to remain unnoticed. Better to not go at all. Better to hide yourself away and never be seen under gazes that make want to tear your skin off.

Social Anxiety: the fear entity

I mean like, just like take MAG 188 and make it a little more also about how achingly lonely you feel but opening yourself up is hard and evil and people will look at you and perceive you and judge you and you've got both The Eye and The Lonely combined and my personal hell. Maybe throw in a bit of Corruption there, for the whole "woe upon woe, if they could see my rotten inner core full of being mean to people then they would hate me even more."

The Corruption is so cool, you guys, but you wouldn't get it, you wouldn't get how cool it is (I mean, you might, please talk to me about the corruption /genuine)

ARCHIVIST Martin. MARTIN (Flat) Jon? ARCHIVIST I-I’m here. I-I came for you. MARTIN Why? ARCHIVIST …I thought you might be lost.

AAAAAAAAA

The way Jon says "Martin," he sounds so relieved, hnhnrhnhrnhrr <3

HHHHHh!!!!

THE WAY JON SAYS THE LAST LINE IS SO SOFT IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL TO BE THIS SOFT ISTG <33333

MARTIN Are you real?

He sounds so bitter when he says that, like he's mocking the idea that Jon could be real. Oh my god.

MARTIN This is where I should be. It feels right. ARCHIVIST Martin don’t say that. MARTIN Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.

MARTIN NO

I get it though, you know, when being alone is the lesser of two evils. Like, what is it out there? Just more pain and fear and loss when it's so much easier to just stay there and fade away and never move and never get out of your room, and never talk to anyone and it's just so much easier, right. When it feels like it's a physical effort to drag yourself everywhere? When it's oh, so comfortable, out there in the cold.

You know, to me loneliness isn't fog or anything. To me it's around noon. The sky is mostly clear, the grass is slightly itchy, you're squinting against the glare of the sun. It's silent, bar the wind and the birds and your breathing. And then you suddenly realise you're alone. And there's no one there. And the warmth is making you tired. And sometimes you can say it's nice, lying on the ground under the sun like a lizard. And sometimes it just feels sad.

I like that the lonely is at the sea. The ocean just makes me feel strange emotions that I can't explain. Nice aesthetic too, fog and sea, lighter colours, blues and greys.

But I like my lonely quite a bit. It just feels... it feels like the lonely to me. Idk.

MARTIN It is, though. I really loved you, you know?

LOVE WINS????

PETER I tried to tell you. He’s gone. He made his choice. And it wasn’t you. ARCHIVIST It was for me, though. I’m the reason he— I did this to him as much as you.

Nononononono jon mr. jarchivist sims. NO! Alright, you know what, bringing in my brain here. No! Nooo! Alright, sure, you dying may have made him lonely, but you can't seriously blame yourself for dying - I know he blames himself for dying - and like coming back to life and stuff? He may have done it for Jon, but that doesn't put the blame on Jon. It puts the blame on... I don't know! Death! The world! Peter Lukas, but I'm loathe to blame him for anything because I really like his voice.

I have other things to say about this but tbh, I just think I have problems, and I've already shared so much absolutely terrible advice earlier, so I'm not going to perpetuate my probably harmful (in like a... this is a thought your brain could have! think about it! wow, doesn't it suck! this will stay here tho! way) thoughts, sooo.

PETER Where are your friends, Archivist? ARCHIVIST Tim and Sasha are dead. PETER Yes? ARCHIVIST Daisy and Basira are, probably dead. PETER Because. Of. You. ARCHIVIST Georgie and Melanie have left me. PETER And? ARCHIVIST Martin’s gone. PETER You’re alone, Archivist. The last one standing.

Got distracted playing piano, uh, :( this just makes me really sad. guy's literally living out my worst nightmare (all your friends either dying or leaving you, some telling you they'd literally rather you be dead, like god that hurts).

I just want him to get a hug :(

PETER After all, you can’t hurt anyone in here. ARCHIVIST …Yes… PETER Yes.

That would've probably worked had he not... yk, been there for Martin? And like, sort of... as he was trying to get into Jon's head sort of... revealing what he was?

Hmm

ARCHIVIST I wouldn’t try to leave if I were you. I can see you now. I can find you wherever you go.

Kinda... uh... hmm... hhnnmmm

Hot jon rights

My crew is out there waiting for a call I think I am now unlikely ever to give them.

Oh, right, because of the imminent eyepocolypse. I thought it was because he thought he'd die to jon

My instinct was much like the others, I thought that if I could complete my ritual first, then the potential birth of the dreadful change would be meaningless.

reminds me of

Smirke was still so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of their patrons. I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world. At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself.

(MAG 160)

So, it's like a rerun of all those rituals, but 1900s and 2000s edition, instead of 1800s.

On Peter's ritual... it's not all Lonely, right? Could be Vast. Buried, maybe? What with the whole "you can never escape your work."

Also, it sounds... terrifying.

If I could convince one of his staff to willingly pledge themselves to the Lonely, it was all mine. He even let me pick the victim. He was so sure the prize of the Institute, the Panopticon, and a willing vessel to use it would be just too much for me to resist. And he was right. Just didn't go quite as I'd hoped.

What is it with these evil old men and using people as poker chips! Like, why!

ARCHIVIST And what was his prize? What did he get if you lost? PETER Oh, he got you.

Like, if making a bet where you win this freshly traumatised by the lonely guy isn't the worst thing that elias has done - and somehow it fucking isn't - then you know that like, very evil. and awful. like. kinda dehuminising don't you think? kinda fucked. what the fuck.

ARCHIVIST Tell me.

The way he says it is interesting. Just... flatly, not even a demand, just... "tell me."

I like it. I think it's neat.

PETER (Fighting) I’m… not saying… another… word. ARCHIVIST Tell me or I will rip it out of you! [Both statics keep increasing in volume] PETER No! ARCHIVIST (With all his power) ANSWER MY QUESTION! PETER NO!! LEAVE! ME! (Echoing) ALONE! ARCHIVIST TELL ME! [The statics crescendo; there is the sound of electric tearing and Peter screams as he is conceptually ripped apart]

HOT JON RIGHTS!!! YEAH!!!! WOOOH!!! KILL HIM!!!!

I THINK THAT PART IS VERY COOL! FUCK YEAH DUDE, RIP SOMEONE APART WITH YOUR EVIL POWERS!!

ARCHIVIST Listen, I know you think you want to be here. I know you think it’s safer, and… well maybe it is. But we need you. I need you.

MARTIN We – I need you.

(MAG 120.2)

HHHHH THEY KEEP REPEATING EACH OTEHRS WORDS AND MAKING ME WANT TO CRY!!!

ARCHIVIST Martin. Martin look at me. (compelling) Look at me and tell me what you see. [Hissing static starts] MARTIN I see… I see you, Jon. (Small disbelieving laugh from Martin) (Martin’s voice stops shifting side to side, and no longer echoes) MARTIN (CONT’D) I see you.

THIS- THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE MOMENT

chills, literal chills. fuckin' love it so much, you don't even know

im just gonna. im just gonna be here crying it such a good

[ID: Drawing of a person sitting at a computer, crying. /End ID]

ARCHIVIST Not anymore. Come on. Let’s go home. MARTIN How? ARCHIVIST Don’t worry. I know the way.

ITS SO SOFT ITS SO SOFT ITS SO FUCKING SOFT I LOVE THIS EPISODE I LOVE THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES "Don't worry. I know the way." ITS SO SOFT THE WAY HE SAYS IT IM GOING TO CRY IM GOING TO CURL UP INTO A LITTLE BALL AND CRY YOUR HONOUR THEYRE IN LOVE YOUR HONOUR THEIR LOVE GOT THEM OUT OF THE LONELY LOVE WINS YAY IM GONNA GO CRY NOW SLASH POS

this is over. im not crying but dear god is it close. look forward to tomorrow where i'll do more than ramble. i love jmart so much you guys i love them so much they love each other so much <3

[kimmimaru]

This is a ridiculous and rambling, nonsensical post and I’m sorry for it, but I have a lot of stupid late night thoughts I need to write down just to stop it from circling my head. So I’m sticking it on my blog. It’s under a cut so it doesn’t burden anyone’s dash. No joke, little of this makes any sense, it’s essentially just there for my own purposes but obviously if you really want to read you can, just don’t expect to understand it, because I don’t lol.

I am still awake at 3am. Mostly can’t sleep because my brain is torturing me, won’t shut the fuck up. So I’m here, on tumblr, making it worse.  I am having bad times obsessing over my own artistic talents and wondering what the fuck I’m going to do because I feel weirdly restless, like there’s something I should be doing but I can’t work out HOW. Like I need to get my fucking life together. I know there’s no time-limit but I dunno...I’m feeling more and more like there IS and it’s weird and unsettling.  When I was a kid literally the only thing I wanted to do when I grew up (other than become a Jedi) was draw or paint. Arty things are the only things I’m even remotely good at. But I can’t sell anything I make, no matter what I do. So my brain goes; well, you’re just not good enough! And I know I’m good, I just think maybe I’m not good ENOUGH. Which is annoying because what the fuck even IS good enough? I enter competitions and my work doesn’t even get displayed, I don’t care much about winning, but it would have been nice if people could have seen the fucking work. But nope.  I’m 35 and the only perfect thing I’ve ever ‘made’ is my daughter (yes, ok she’s not perfect to everyone but she is to ME). I just wish I could give her more. Having lost my mum (nearly a year ago now) it started dawning on me that I need to leave her something, I don’t want to leave her with nothing but burdens. I know, my mother didn’t mean to, she had plans and stuff but it happened and now my siblings and I are struggling to get shit done and it’s weighing everyone down. And the same thing will happen to my daughter as well and I HATE myself for it.  I feel like I’ve wasted my life, which is stupid but feelings are feelings.  I’ll admit, when I was young I wanted to be famous. I’ve always felt weirdly panicky about dying and being forgotten. It’s hard to explain, death doesn’t scare me, at least my own doesn’t. It’s inevitable. But I wanted to leave behind something. I don’t want to just disappear, if that makes sense. My hope was I could do that through my art. Art lasts. And yes, I have a child who could be considered me leaving something of myself behind but she’s not me, I don’t want her to be me. I want her to be herself. Make her own mark on the world in her own way.  What I WANT to do is go back to uni. I want to study, finally get the degree I fucked up last time around but that costs too much. I want to set up somewhere to sell my art work. I want to travel to more places, although I’ve been to Greece and seen mount Olympus, I’ve been in a hot air balloon over the Nile in Egypt as the sun rose, I’ve been to Bulgaria, skinny dipped in France and seen the remnants of the Berlin wall in Germany (I’ve obviously been to Scotland, Wales, Cornwall and Ireland too) but the world is big and I want to see more places. I want to go to Italy, Japan, Norway and as many other places as I can. But at this point I doubt I ever will. Essentially I’m just lamenting all the shit I could be doing but can’t because money. Same as everyone else I suppose. Anyway, my mum believed in reincarnation and that every time someone is reincarnated they do so to learn something in this new life, but I have to wonder wtf I’m supposed to be learning here because so far it’s not clear at all. Maybe it isn’t supposed to be clear but a nudge in the right direction would help a lot.

[a-drop-of-nightshade]

Hearing her sigh he willed for the fire to return exactly as she had it, hopefully she wouldn’t be too upset now, “Sorry.” He muttered before he looked at her then laughed, “Ah, silly, firstly I don’t have responsibilities, I cannot claim a pantheon or worshippers, my duty is of magic and alchemy and it’s hardly any different than what it was before, I just have to spread mana about and bless some mages and alchemists here and there.” He shrugged, “Gramps won’t let me make a claim as a real god. Besides you talk as of death is the end, it never is as simple as that, I won’t let you die so easily. If you wanted you could live forever if you wanted me to make it that way.”

He sighed, “I wasn’t showing off though, I was trying to make a point, I’m someone with a lot of enemies… and that’s what I need you to understand. I will always be myself, I just am, but what I really mean is… well… I wanted you to understand that because I wanted you to be sure you aren’t regretting anything, especially now I’m a god… but like… also because um…” he went red and squirmed in his seat, “I was wondering if you… maybe wanted to… start… dating properly… like… maybe being my girlfriend I dunno it Sup to you I just wanted you to be sure and I have no idea what I’m saying I’m sorry it’s stupid I’ll just shut up now.” He rambled and hid his face in his hands, he was leaking those bubbles and this time with each pop the air seemed ti sparkle with purple lights, the smell so much stronger than it had been before.

L took some deep slow breaths, it was fine he could do this, it wasn’t that scary. He hesitated at the door his body freezing up as he screamed internally, okay that was a lie, this was absolutely terrifying. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with chains hanging from the belt loops, he had a shirt on with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos, on his right arm he had a spiked cuff on and he had gotten his nails cleaned up and painted so they looked nice; he wore a black waist coat and the collar of the shirt was undone and he was wearing a spiked choker around his neck.

His long dual tone hair was brushed out and partially pulled back so it was half up and half down. He took a deep breath and then knocked on the door with fingers bearing rings, some with skulls others bands with Celtic knots. When the door opened he held the back of his neck and cracked a nervous smile, “Hey you ready?” He asked with a laugh, “oh uh… these are for you.” He held out a bouquet of roses, he was nervous that they wouldn’t have wanted to do this, but he had to admit he was really looking forwards to this date.

@blackparaderunner / @izzyfromdeadspace

[slowpoke-fics]

Scent | Mate Series

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek x Y/N

Summary: Derek is getting suspicious of you, you're hiding something and he wants to know what

Warnings: not really I think but just in case, as always, read at your own risk

A/N: This is Part One | Next Part

This whole thing is a whole family pack au and mate au, OC stuff in later chapters but I really loved writing this and love the idea of a family pack <3

You walked into Scott’s house, happily smiling at everyone gathered around the table, noticing that even Derek had showed this time. The wolves seemed to carry on about their business as you muttered something about dinner and moved to the kitchen. “I don’t like that ya know?” You jumped a little, turning to Derek and smiling in confusion. He sniffed the air, “All I can smell is your strawberry shortcake lotion. You use too much.” You scoffed, turning to the food, “I don’t care, go smell someone else.” He shook his head, “Why? I don’t like not being able to smell you.” You looked at him, eyebrows raised, "Derek, I know what you wolves do, it's a violation of privacy, I like my emotions being mine." Derek huffed under his breath, "Just trying to care." He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You couldn't help but wonder if you'd been excessively hateful, but you were right. You knew better than anyone, wolves violate your privacy whenever they can by just smelling you, let alone with serious practice what they can do. You could never keep a secret around a pack of wolves, and living in Beacon Hills with the extra wolf sense going around is no different. It's better to just hide your scent all together. You of course knew how to do this very well without the nifty supernatural trick; putting lotion over your scent glands regularly, wearing tight clothes, and lots of deodorant. You sighed to yourself as you thought of how different it could be if you could come clean.

Derek hung back after the meeting, watching as you waved everyone goodbye, claiming he was cleanup help since you cooked. "What's up Derek?" Scott said once the door shut. "Y/n," Derek started, turning to Scott, hand rubbing his scruff nervously, "has she always covered her scent like that?" Scott's eyebrows furrowed, "Now that I think about it, yeah, why?" Derek shrugged, acting like it was no big deal but wanted to put the fuze out before it went to far, "Dunno, she's just the only one that does it, even Lydia with the amount of crap she wears, I can smell her," he sighed, "it's like Y/n is hiding something man, I've just never once smelled her." Derek shook his head, "I mean, it's never bothered you? Not being able to smell her?"

Scott could sense something he hadn't ever before with Derek, a sense of need, like when Stiles called to him when he almost lit himself on fire. "She just wants her privacy, she knows we can smell fear, anxiety, joy, embarrassment," he slapped Dereks shoulder, "relax man, are you really worried Y/n is out to get you?" Dereks hands fell next to him, "Something like that." Derek said his goodbyes to Scott and happily Stiles, as over the years he's grown to love the wild man, and left wondering about you.

At the next pack meeting, this time in his loft, you were the last one in again. As everyone was catching up and cutting up, Derek found his way beside you, "I don't like that one, it smells sour, what is it?" You blushed just slightly, "I don't know some cucumber mix." Derek huffed, "If all I can smell is fake shit, at least something good, citrus, sweet or somethin'," he shrugged as he made his way to the table.

You'd all been discussing new training for the supernatural creatures drawn in by the Nemeton and handling the strays that don't fall in line with the help of the argents. Derek was next to you, something you knew was no coincidence as he'd swapped places with Scott at some point. He reached over to the map in front of you, trying to rub just your shirt, but you slyly moved your arm, muttering an apology, "Oh, sorry," but Derek didn't miss the extra heartbeat, even if just for a second. What is going on with you?

A few days later you find yourself climbing in the passenger of Stiles' jeep, just leaving your house after reapplying lotion, knowing that you were going to Dereks' for pack training. "Scott needed a ride today, that okay?" Stiles quizzed you, studying you as you answered with a hum. "Everything alright?" he reiterated, turning the music up. You shrugged, "I just have a feeling something is going on." Stiles gave you a sympathetic smile as he pulled up to Scott's.

Scott climbed in Stiles' back seat, glancing at you, consciously aware that you only smelled like mixed berry lotion, smiling, "Hey, Y/n, how was your day?" You shrugged, "The usual, excited for some pack time." Scott listened to your steady beat, kicking himself for even listening. The ride to Dereks normal while you intently listened to Stiles ramble. It was impossible not to notice that something was bothering Scott, you just hoped it wasn't you.

Scott was the first to knock on the door, Stiles following impatiently while you stood behind the two men. Derek slid the door open, looking over the two men and directly smiling at you, welcoming you all in. You followed closely in behind Stiles, narrowly missing Derek. You sense him reaching forward, out for the small of your back, you quickly stepped out of the way and to the kitchen, hoping your heartbeat was steady. "So what am I making?"

You worked on finishing up the tacos, careful to clean up any mess you made and wash the used pans. You had Liam lay out the table who was cooling off from a tough session with Isaac. He was really slinging the plates down, you put your hand just inches from his, stopping him from laying another plate down, "Liam," his eyes connected with yours, "listen to my heart, get yours to match it." Liam shook his head, starting to lay another plate down, clearly frustrated, but you spoke again, "Liam," you sighed, "it is okay to lose control and get angry, but get it back. Take a breath, control your heart rate, ground yourself." Liam took a deep breath in as you guided him, smiling at you before gently setting the plates down. You could feel the anger dissipating from him as he did.

"Thank you for helping," you muttered as you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, making sure your sleeve covers your bare hand, smiling at him, "I'm gonna go get them." You walked into the training room, sweat and power smacking you in the face, "Dinner's ready!" Scott and Derek let go of each other, playfully draping their arms around each other, "You wanna spar, Y/n?" Derek asked and you laughed, a sound that blessed his ears, "Uh, no thank you, I'll leave that to the big bad wolves." Scott smiled, "Come on! Even Stiles trains!" Stiles jumps at this, pointing to Scott, "Hey!" Causing everyone to erupt into laughter, you smiled, "Who else is gonna cook?" At that Stiles interjected again, heading to the meal, "Not it!"

After you all ate you helped Liam collect and wash dishes, Derek watching you dodge every corner of the tablecloth, studied your moments as you put up pates, careful to not touch them with your bare hands. He thought to himself as he watched you that he was reading way too much into it. That you were just a private polite person, but something was rubbing him the wrong way, something he was missing. As you put away the last dish, Stiles stood up, smiling, "Bye, sour wolf." Derek glared at him but turned to you who was side by side with Stiles, your arm around his waist, also heading out, "See you later, sour wolf."

Scott trailed behind, making sure you and Stiles were out of earshot. "Man, what is your problem I can literally see the fury coming off of you." Derek glared at Scott, "Y/n, she just-" Scott rolled his eyes, "You can't be serious, not with this again." Derek rubbed his face, "Man, I'm telling you," he shook his head, clearly troubled, "She won't let me touch her! At all, I'm talking not even an accidental brush," Derek spoke lower, "She wouldn't train because that causes sweat, we could smell her, won't even touch the tablecloth. She washes every dish she uses, won't touch the plates with her bare hands? The plates?" Scott could tell Derek was genuinely upset by this, "Why does this bother you so much man?" Derek sighed, "I don't know," he drug broth his hands over his face, an attempt to rub the stress away, "I don't think she'd hurt us of course, but she's definitely- Scott, there's too many questions I need answered." Scott sighed, "Okay, if it means that much to you, I'll look into it." Scott started walking and that's when you snapped back into Stiles honking the horn of the car, you giggling with him as Scott came rushing out.

How much longer could you hide your secret?

[wankusbonkus-gt]

Harry’s Little Accident (and Very Big Problem): Chapter One, The Beginning

Summary: Harry shrinks, and becomes more well-acquainted with his best mate's bits than he ever thought possible.

Content: Underwear Entrapment, Indifferent Giant, Suffering Tiny

A/N: Dunno what it is about Ron, but I can’t seem to get enough of him as a giant. I ship Rarry so maybe that’s it? Anyway, I’m rambling, hope you all don’t mind xx (link to AO3 version)

* * * * * * * * * *

‘... Yes, Harry, my boy. I am sorry to say that we will not be able to acquire the proper ingredients for the cure for at least a fortnight.’ Dumbledore sits back in his great chair with a sorry look on his wizened face, peering down at him on the desk.

Harry can’t believe what he’s hearing. How did his life become so horrible so quickly? He’s in Charms class one minute, normally sized practising the shrinking charm on an apple, and the next, less than five centimetres tall!

‘You’re serious, Professor? I’ll be stuck like this for weeks?’ Harry growls.

He wants to shout. He wants to kick things. He wants to break things like he did in Fifth Year. And the most frustrating thing of all is that he’s not even large enough to do any of it!

‘Perhaps even longer!’ The man says jovially. ‘It is an incredibly …’ Dumbeldore begins to say, unconscious of Harry’s internal breakdown, when he is interrupted by the door opening.

‘Ah, Mr Weasley! Do come in!’

Harry turns around then, in relief to see his best mate. He goes to say ‘Hello’, but is stopped in his tracks by how confused Ron appears. It twists his freckles into a muddy blur and his blue eyes squinty. Harry hates that look.

‘Err, good evening, Headmaster. Harry … ?’

‘Sit down, please.’

Ron does as instructed, still not taking his eyes off Harry’s miniscule form on the desk. He barely even blinks, just staring blankly, as if unable to comprehend what’s happening, even though he’d found Harry amidst his pile of gargantuan clothes. Harry fidgets at the clothes Dumbledore had conjured for him. It’s the same as when Ron had found him. Finally, they flicker away.

‘You haven’t been able to fix him?’ He asks the Headmaster hesitantly.

‘No, we have not. I’m afraid to say that Mr Potter will remain in his current condition for at least two weeks.’

‘And you’re sure there’s nothing you can do to help him?’

Dumbeldore shakes his head ruefully. Harry, fed up, shouts:

‘Will you please not talk about me like I’m not in the room!’

They jolt to attention, paying him focus again. Ron goggles; Dumbledore ponders.

‘Yes, anyway, there is a specific reason I asked you to come to my office, Mr Weasley.’

‘Really?’ Ron croaks.

The old Headmaster’s eyes twinkle.

‘Really. Regarding Harry’s care and protection, I can think of no better person than you. You are his best friend, and you love him dearly. I am sure you will do your utmost best to ensure his continued safety until we can create and administer the cure. Do you accept, or shall I ask Miss Granger?’

‘No, Headmaster. I mean, yes. Yes, I can do that,’ Ron babbles, turning redder underneath Dumbledore’s penetrating gaze.

‘Good. I should let you both go then.’

Ron nods, standing up. He reaches his hand over the desk to pluck Harry off the desk and place him in his firm, freckled palm, which stretches out under Harry, more like a launchpad than a place to sit. He stands up shakily, only to immediately fall back down as his friend pats him on the head. Ron turns to leave, but stops when Dumledore speaks up again.

‘Oh, and Harry, my boy, don’t worry about your classes. You have been made exempt from attending and participating until your condition has been reversed.’

Harry hears a faint ‘Toodaloo!’ as the door shuts behind them.

As they descend the stairs, Harry tries to stand up again. He only gets to his knees before flopping back over, and decides its for the best if he stays sitting for now.

‘So, Ron, did I miss anything while I was gone?’

Ron looks down at him again, still with that surprise in his eyes. ‘Uh, no, not really. No one else shrunk to the size of a teacup, at least.’ Ron chuckles quietly to himself for a moment. ‘Nothing much else, though, mate. Hermione worried all throughout Charms after you were gone, and took off to the library during lunch. So she’ll be sure to talk your ear off when we get back to the Common Room,’ he explains.

‘Oh. Hermione will be there?’

Ron nods. ‘Yeah, practically everyone’s heard about your little accident by now. They were all buzzing about it at dinner.’

‘Dinner’s over?’ Harry’s stomach grumbles at the mention of it. He’s only had breakfast today.

‘Yeah, mate. I was just finishing when Professor McGonagall told me to go to Dumbledore’s office.’

The conversation quickly peters off. Harry stares at the divots in Ron’s palm until they arrive at the Common Room. The moment they step through the painting—the Fat Lady barely even glancing at Harry—they’re surrounded by students, everyone shouting to show them Harry.

‘All right, all right! Calm down!’

Ron quickly presents Harry to the crowd, like crumbs to a flock of birds. Their numerous fat, gawping faces and wide eyes make him shrink back slightly. Hermione, like a beacon, shoves to the front, hair standing up a foot in the air.

‘Oh, Harry! You’re all right!’ She sounds inordinately relieved.

‘Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Harry asks her, panicked.

‘Nothing!’

Before he can badger her any further, the twins pop up, matching grins on their faces. They look down at Harry like vultures.

‘Merlin, mate–’

‘–Didn’t think the rumours were true–’

‘–You really are small!’

‘Obviously the rumours are true!’ Hermione squawks. ‘Look at him. He’s smaller than a mouse.’

They continue to bicker over Harry’s head, Ron chiming in every once and a while, the rest of the crowd dispensing after getting their fill. They’re all so large like this. Even looking up at them takes work. It’s like looking at a chain of mountains grumbling overhead. Even Hermione, the shortest, appears colossal at this height.

Figuring he won’t be able to get a word in over all the talking, he just goes back to staring at Ron’s hand. Then, after what seems to be hours later, but could only be a few minutes, Ron says they’re going to bed. Harry wants to argue and stay downstairs, but then Hermione agrees, rushing off in a tizzy, and the twins just leer again before going back over to the corner.

Ron lumbers up the stairs with practised steps, and walks into an empty room. Everyone’s still downstairs. Harry wonders what’s made his friend so tired. Ron sets Harry down on the bedside table and begins to strip. At this height and angle, everything appears so different. The bed is massive, and the other side of the room seems impossibly far away.

Harry stands in his conjured clothes, a simple shirt and trousers, barefoot, when he realises he doesn’t know where he’s going to sleep. He voices this to Ron, who is pulling down his trousers, only to get a queer look in reply.

He doesn’t get an answer, and asks again.

‘Ron! Where am I going to sleep?’

Another look, but at least this time Ron says something.

‘Well, Harry, you see, I was thinking about it, and I thought the best option was my, erm … my pants.’

‘Your what?’

‘Don’t make me say it again.’

‘Ron, what do you mean by your pants? Why would I sleep in there?’

‘I dunno. I just thought it’d be good for … for what Dumbledore said, you see? I need to keep you from getting flattened, and I can’t do that if I roll over on you. And I can’t have you out in the open for just anyone to snatch you up! If Sirius could get into Gryffindor Tower, who’s to say others can’t?’

Harry gapes at his best mate for a moment. Ron must take his stupefied silence to wrongfully mean he consents, because the boy picks him up and hovers him over his crotch, his other hand going to pull back his pants.

‘But, Ron … surely there’s another way?’ He looks down from a grimacing but firm Ron to the gap between his friend’s pants and his abdomen, into the dark pit where the boy’s prick lies.

‘There isn’t, mate. Sorry.’ Harry feels vindicated slightly by the guilty remorse in his voice. Then he feels horrible, because it’s not like Ron asked for this. If anything, it’s Smith’s fault for miscasting the spell. ‘‘I’ll try not to turn over too much tonight.’

Without another word, perhaps before Harry talks him out of it or runs away, he’s lowered into the hole, the large hand setting him in his pants.

The hole quickly shuts, and Harry is left with his friend’s cock and balls, surrounded by a thatch of thick, dark red pubic hair. They’re very intimidating, for a pair of bits belonging to his best friend.

The space he has in these old, worn pants is limited to a few inches, the rest taken up by the cock, which dangles above him, and the balls, which spread out near his feet. He’s sitting down as well, meaning if he were to even stretch out just a little bit, he’d become flush with both.

To distract from the penis grazing his head, Harry focuses on what he hears outside. Ron doesn’t wear sleep trousers, so there’s nothing to muffle the noise. He hears a lot of shuffling around as Ron prepares himself for bed, walking around and jostling Harry until he ends up spread out across his friend’s balls, hair tickling his nose.

The movement stops for a moment, and a hand comes to adjust the pants, shoving everything around until Harry ends up with the cock in his face, pressed up against his body. It’s heavy enough that Harry can’t push it away, and he just gets an alarming twitch when he tries. So he just sits there, balls to his back and cock to his front, until Ron presumably slips into bed. His world shifts for a moment, going from sitting to lying down, and the weight gets heavier.

Ron seems to fall asleep very quickly, tiny snores punctuating the silence. Harry wishes he had such luck.

He’s too hot like this, blanketed by Ron’s flesh and hair. He begins to sweat because of it as well, but refuses to remove his clothes on principle. The only upside to this is that he is able to slide out from under the cock, rushing to the limited space he has and curling up.

He doesn’t sleep, watching the cock twitch occasionally and the balls tighten under him in their fleshy, hairy sack, the pants stretched over his head. Once, Ron turns over to lie on his stomach, Harry pressed to the hot flesh for the rest of the night.

A/N: Not a lot happened this chapter, but I promise things will be moving along very fast in Chapter 2!

[phantasmagoric-acquaintance]

who said anything about marriage

[read it here or on ao3]

Barry was nervous.

That was nothing new. Barry was nervous most of the time. But Barry hadn’t been nervous around Lup in decades.

There were so many things that could go wrong. For one, he could lose the ring. For the millionth time in the past half hour, he patted the outside of his jacket pocket. He felt the little box and exhaled quietly.

He could screw up the plan. They’d already made it to the restaurant on time, thank the Gods. But what if they missed the gondola ride? He’d booked the damned thing in advance, and if the rules he’d read online were any indication, the company didn’t give latecomers a whole lot of leeway. He could pop the question on the streets next to the canal, he supposed, but that was unromantic. Plus, he’d pre-paid so much for the ride.

And what if he fell? He’d made himself sick the night before reading articles about mistakes to avoid on a gondola. He knew not to try to stand, but what if he forgot? He could tip the boat and soak them both.

“Um, babe?”

Lup’s voice brought Barry out of his anxious reverie, and he remembered he’d been pouring a glass of wine, which was now very close to overflowing. “Aah!” He hastily righted the bottle, hitting the mouth against the overfilled glass in the process and very nearly knocking it over.

Lup snickered, eyes glinting with amusement. “You are a wreck,” she said as she lifted her own wine glass to her lips. There wasn’t a hint of malice in her voice or in her expression. Barry remembered that he’d probably embarrassed himself in front of her thousands of times, and she still loved him. As the waiter came by to take their orders, Barry felt himself relaxing.

That calm moment was short-lived.

When the waiter turned away from their table, Lup propped her elbows up on the table and rested her chin on her palms. “Hey, Bear?”

“Mm-hm?” Barry vocalized, sipping from his comically full wine glass.

“When are we gonna get married?”

Barry sputtered, spitting a little wine back into his glass and trying not to choke on the rest of it. “Huh?!?” Had she figured out his plan? She was clever, and he wasn’t the best at keeping secrets, but he thought he’d done a good job of keeping it from her. He’d known better, too, than to tell anyone expect Taako. Did she get it out of him?

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, don’t freak out or anything. It’s just, you know, we’ve been together for, like, I don’t know, an entire human lifespan?” She shifted her chin so that it rested only on her left palm and reached for her glass with her free hand. “I mean, we’re pretty much already married. I just thought, I dunno, maybe we should make it official.”

If Barry had been thinking, he might’ve told her “Yes! Gods, yes!” right then and there. He might’ve pulled out the ring and said, “Funny you should ask, I was thinking the same thing!” If he had been thinking, he might have realized that this moment, right here in the restaurant, was the perfect opportunity to do what he’d set out to do this evening.

But Barry wasn’t thinking. Barry was panicking.

“M-marriage? Who said anything about marriage?”

Lup set her left arm back down on the table. “Huh? Nobody said anything about it. Or, I guess I did.” She looked down at her glass and swirled it around a bit. “Geez, Barry, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I knew it’d make you all, like, panicky and sweaty and shit.”

“I-I’m not panicky and sweaty.” He was very obviously both of these things. It was this moment that the waiter came by, awkwardly setting their plates in front of them and hurrying off, sensing that whatever was happening here, it was definitely not something he wanted to be privy to any longer than necessary. “Y-you just caught me off guard, that’s all. Marriage is, you know, a big word.”

“Well, sure.” Lup picked up a fork and began swirling it in her pasta. “But, like, haven’t you thought about it before?” She lifted the fork to her mouth.

“Thought about marrying you?” Barry was drenched in sweat now.

“Mm-hm,” Lup managed through a mouthful of linguini.

“Well, no, I mean, why would I?”

This was absolutely, positively, the wrong thing to say. It might have been the worst possible thing Barry could’ve said, and he’d said it, and he couldn't take it back.

Lup swallowed her food hard and gaped at him. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Uhh…” He took a long sip of his wine.

“What do you mean, ‘Why would I?’?”

The pressure was on now, and Barry tended to falter under pressure. “I just, I mean, marriage is, it’s such a long-term commitment, you know? It, uh, ties you down and stuff.”

Lup’s eyes went even wider. “Barry, what are you trying to say?” she asked softly.

Barry threw his hands up. “Nothing! I- nothing! Just, you’re such a, a free spirit, I, uh, wouldn’t wanna… hold you back?”

She deflated, and he knew he’d dug himself deeper. “Yeah, okay.” She put her elbow back on the table, making a fist with her left hand and resting her cheekbone on her knuckles, and looked down at her plate.

Silence. Barry cut off a bit of his salmon and ate it. “Mmm!” he hummed exaggeratedly. “The salmon is amazing! How’s your food?”

Lup pushed her noodles around on her plate, not looking up. “It’s fine. Fantastic.”

They stayed like that for a while, him slowly eating his food and watching her, her only taking small occasional bites and refusing to look anywhere but her plate.

“Um, are… are you ready for the check?” Barry asked after some time.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Whenever.” Lup stood. “Just, like, excuse me for a minute first.” She walked quickly towards the restroom.

When the door closed behind her, Barry sighed and sunk his face into his hands. He didn’t have the slightest idea how he was going to recover. “Fuck,” he breathed into his hands.

After a minute, Barry heard the sound of footsteps, distinct from the clicking of Lup’s heels, approach the table. “Barold.”

He lifted his head to see Taako, still in his full chef’s uniform, glaring at him, arms crossed. Fuck, he was really in trouble now. “Hi, Taako.” In retrospect, maybe it was a mistake to have this dinner at Lup’s brother’s restaurant. It had seemed like a sweet idea at the time. Taako had only recently gotten comfortable cooking for large crowds again, and he and Lup made efforts to support him when they could.

Taako leveled a glare at Barry. “One of my little birdies has just informed me that she saw my sister run crying into the bathroom. Would you, dear customer, mind telling me why that is?”

Barry exhaled, long and slow. “I beefed it, Taako.”

“You beefed it? What does that mean, exactly?”

“Okay, she brought up marriage out of nowhere and it threw me off and I didn’t want to spoil the proposal and I panicked and maybe I said some things I didn’t mean.”

“Such as…?”

“Such as… ‘I’ve never thought about marrying you,’ and ‘Marriage ties people down’…”

“Oh, good Gods. All because you didn’t wanna spoil some dumb overly romantic surprise?”

Barry flushed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose. “Barry, I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to have this fixed by the end of tonight.”

Barry grimaced. “I-I’ll try.”

“You’ve also wasted my food.” Taako nodded at Lup’s mostly-untouched plate and tossed a leather check holder onto the table. “And if I find any fire damage in my bathroom, I’m charging you for that, too.” With that, Taako turned and strode back into the kitchen.

By the time Lup came out of the bathroom, Barry’s credit card had already been returned to him and he was signing the receipt. He looked up at her and tried not to wince when he noticed the mascara tracks marking paths down her cheeks from her puffy eyes. “Ready to go?”

“Mm.” She still wouldn’t look at him. He led her outside, and she leaned against the building, hugging herself and staring into space, eyes unfocused.

Barry stood next to her uneasily. “Uh, I’m going to… call the taxi now?”

“Mm-hm.”

Barry didn’t reach for his phone. Another uncomfortable silence passed.

Then, he sighed. “Okay, I-I didn’t wanna do it like this, but…”

Barry knelt down, pulled the ring box out of his pocket, and flipped it open.

Lup finally turned to face him now, stunned. “Wh-what-?”

He blushed and began rambling. “I had this whole evening planned, and there was supposed to be a gondola ride, that’s where we were supposed to go next, and I was going to ask you there, but then you brought up marriage and I panicked and I put my fucking foot in my mouth. It was so dumb, I’m so sorry I said all that shit, I didn’t mean any of it, I just really wanted it to be a surprise. Gods, I was so fucking dumb, of course I wanna marry you, if you’ll still have m-“

Lup bent down, grabbed Barry’s face, and kissed him hard.

Barry felt all the tension in his body melt away. He shut the ring box and held it securely in one hand. He brought the other up to sweep Lup’s hair behind her ear and held it there, against her cheek.

When Lup pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. “You’re a fucking wreck, baby.”

He chuckled. She was crying again and, Barry realized, so was he. “I know.”

She beamed. “We’ll work on it together, fiancé.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I can’t believe you did all that for a fucking gondola ride, though. I mean, no offense, dear, but I’m kinda glad we didn’t do that.”

He grimaced. “Well, about that, I paid a lot of money for it, and there’s still time…”

Lup pouted. “Do we have to? I’d rather go home.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” she breathed.

Barry smiled. “Yeah, okay. You’ve convinced me.”

“Perfect!” Lup stood up, smirked, and held out her left hand. “Now gimme that rock!”

Taako lifted his phone off the bedside table and squinted at his notifications.

Lulu: Missed Call

Lulu: Voicemail

Remembering the scene at his restaurant the night before, he inhaled sharply and unlocked his phone. There are two ways that situation could’ve played out, he thought. He navigated to his voicemailbox and pressed play on the most recent message.

“Ugh, it’s so annoying how you’re never awake when I have news. I have big fucking news, by the way, so I’m gonna be really pissed at you if you don’t call me back within the next, like, two hours. Okay, later.”

Taako smiled. It was a relief to hear her sound so chipper. It meant this news of hers was definitely good, and it meant that Taako didn’t have to fight Barold. He sat up, rubbed the dust out of his eyes, and called his sister.

[oliviayamaoka]

Heartfelt Deception Continuation (Joey / The Legion x F!Reader)

Joey x Reader Angst!!!!!!

Hi! I’ve been busy working and getting ready for university but I’ve been DYING to finish requests! I wanna put my heart and soul into the requests so sorry if it takes long! Working on finishing the Doctor stuff after this!

Anyways, general plot is you see Joey again but your reunion is short lived!

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the Entity’s realm at this point. It felt like years but must’ve been a few months. It feared you apart on the inside thinking about all those you left behind. What terrified you most was the thought of you actually being dead. Were you just a husk being punished in this purgatory? This hell? What the hell did you even do to deserve this? You sighed deeply and looked upwards.

You awaited the trial. It had been almost two weeks since you were chosen to participate in a trial. You cherished every moment not being in those twisted games. A shudder ran through your spine remembering your last trial. You awoke in a bathroom with Kate Denson. There were devices on your heads and the voice of a man spoke, telling you that he wanted to play a game. While you and Kate played that awful game, the other two were doing generators. You got the trap off of your head but Kate wasn’t so lucky. It was terrifying but you couldn’t forget the image of the woman in red. The woman who wore a pig’s head as she chased you.

“Y/N?” A guy said to you as you jumped. You recognized the guy as Quentin Smith. He was around your age and you two talked before.

“Oh, hey.” You said with a smile, a nervous one.

“Are you, like… alright?” He asked you as you nodded.

“Just nervous.” You said to him.

Quentin was friendly but he looked extremely tired. He came the same time as the dream demon? You hadn’t personally fought this demon but you hated what you heard about him. But, you did remember where they came from. Elm Street, was it? Despite the atrocities that occurred here, you loved hearing about where all these mysterious people came from. He nodded in response and looked around.

“Yeah, me too. I, uh, heard that we might be fighting that ogre…” He said. You saw the fear in his eyes when he began to remember his own trauma fighting these creatures and murderers.

“Which one?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood as he chuckled quietly.

“The samurai one.” He said as you nodded. Y/N only fought him once. A hulking samurai who beat her down in an instant. You cringed, remembering the blunt force trauma on your back. Quentin noticed how uncomfortable you looked and cleared his throat.

“Anyways, yeah… it’s just gonna be me, you, Bill, and… Ace? I dunno, they’re old so I don’t really know how to talk to them.” He shrugged.

“Well, I have faith we’ll be fine. Bill might look old but you should see him in action.” You said with a grin. Bill once refused to leave you behind, carrying you on his back and throwing you out the exit gate once. Since then, you admired him and always had his back.

“Yeah, he’s a fighter, isn’t he?” Quentin asked as he yawned. You were about to say something but the familiar, cold fog surrounded you guys.

“Come find me.” He quickly said to you as the fog completely engulfed you.

You shut your eyes tightly, opening them again when you were sure you were in one of the realms. Your hair blew slightly when you looked around. This place seemed foreign to you. It was a hospital of some sort? Not Crotus Prenn. Y/N looked around, crossing her arms tightly. The hallway looked old, dirty, and bloody. In one of the many rooms were chairs and bathrooms?

Y/N shivered and peaked down the hallways. You didn’t see any of your teammates. As you walked into the waiting room, you saw a paper on the ground. You kneeled down and picked it up.

“Leary’s Memorial Institute exposé.” You mumbled, instantly lighting up when you realized this must’ve been the realm that belonged to the infamous Doctor. You didn’t fight him yet but you heard how he fought survivors. Electric blasts? The place seemed massive and long. You then remembered what you heard your friend say. ‘Come find me.’

“Quentin?” You called out, not too loudly in fear that the killer was around. When you got no response, you just began to quietly speed walk to the generator you spotted down the hallway.

You kneeled down, wasting no time in getting to work on it. The repairs came naturally to you. And when you were so focused on survival, you were determined on fixing this generator. The generator sparked and as you continued to fix it, it became more and more loud. At this point, you didn’t care if the killer heard you. You just wanted this generator to be completed.

Or at least you thought so, anyways. Your concentration broke when you heard a scream nearby, it must’ve been Ace? Your finger slipped and the generator blew up. Y/N covered her face as she rapidly stood up. You felt dazed for a moment and heard something sprinting towards you, you quickly turned around. You gasped loudly, holding your arms up in defence as you felt something slash through your forearm.

You let out a scream as the figure immediately stopped. Y/N stumbled a bit, panicking at the slash on your arm. The killer had been one of the Legion members. You immediately forgot about the rapid bleeding from the wound when you looked at the killer. It was Joey. He seemed frozen in place, immediately regretting his actions. He held his knife as he stared at you, breathing heavily from the fatigue he got from his frenzy. Joey wasn’t thinking straight earlier, he always had a temporary migraine whenever he finished his frenzy.

As he was about to reach out, a chair was thrown at him. It was Ace. He had a slash on his back from Joey’s knife. With confidence, he spread his arms out. Ace seemed somewhat pissed off too. Joey grunted and snapped his eyes to his direction.

“Come pick on someone your own size, pal.” He said as Joey switched the way he held his knife.

“Run, kid!” Ace yelled at you.

You looked at Joey before nodding and quickly breaking into a sprint. Joey watched you, feeling frustrated at his situation. He quickly began to chase Ace, wanting to hook him and find you as fast as possible. Y/N continued running and vaulting into random rooms. You held your forearm, losing more and more blood. Y/N eventually stopped running, feeling exhausted and lightheaded.

You kneeled down, biting your lip hard as you pressed your forearm into your shirt. It stung and the sight of your own blood was making you panic. In fact, you didn’t even realize how much sound you were making, breathing heavily and crying. When you heard footsteps beside you, you basically shrieked but quickly realized it was just Bill.

“Ah, shit.” He said, throwing his cigarette to the side. He kneeled down beside you and looked at your wound.

“Quentin, get your ass over here!” He yelled. You covered your mouth with your other hand as Quentin entered the room, carrying a medkit he must’ve found. How did he always manage to find a medkit? You didn’t care right now.

“Are you okay? I mean, obviously not but…” Quentin said, quickly opening the medkit for Bill.

“It stings.” You said.

“Who was it?” Bill asked, taking your wrist as he began to quickly clean your wound and mend you. You shook your head.

“I-I don’t know… he’s after Ace right now.” You said. The three of you heard the familiar scream of Ace in the distance. He must’ve been hooked.

“Not anymore.” Bill huffed as he wrapped a bandage around your arm.

“There was no alcohol or stuff in it, sorry.” Quentin said as you nodded.

“He’s one of the faster ones, though.” You said as Bill helped you up. He has his usual mean mug.

“We best split up and work on seperate gene. If you see the bastard, you better man the hell up and run for the sake of the rest of us. I’ll get Ace. You kids work on fixing these godddamn machines.” Bill said in his usual gruff tone.

“Yeah…” Quentin said nervously.

“Okay… got it.” You said as the three of you quickly ran in seperate directions. There was no need for small talk with no generators completed yet.

You ignored the pain of the wound. Not because of your objective but because he was here? What the hell were the odds of seeing him again? Why didn’t he just kill you in Ormond? Maybe, it was a deception trick? You didn’t know and it was starting you drive you crazy. He even shows you his face. His face! You never forgot what he looked like. You also never forgot how he felt, sitting so close to you and comforting you? You felt your face heat up at the thought but got angry thinking about how it just could’ve been a lie.

You walked back to your generator, quickly going back to work on it. As you kneeled down, you yelped as you were pried off of the generator. Y/N panicked as the gloved hand covered her mouth.

“Please don’t scream!” You heard the familiar voice of Joey say to you. You struggled but quickly stopped, curiosity getting the better of you.

You quickly ripped away from him when he let you go. You turned around, eyes wide and your posture tense. Joey tilted his head, taking in your features as his shoulders loosened. It felt so intoxicating for him to finally see you again. He pulled his hood back and took off his mask. You still felt on edge when he did so. Joey knew he didn’t deserve to act so friendly but still, he smiled seeing you again.

“Look… I know things look bad right now.” He began as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Bad…?!” You whisper shouted.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I didn’t mean to…! The Entity makes me and my friends go into this weird ass bloodlust state where we want you just stab everything in sight, I stopped as soon as I recognized you!” He explained, rambling a bit.

“Stopped, huh?” You questioned, mad about your wound. It was pretty deep. He sighed deeply, holding his head in frustration.

“Look, I could’ve done so much worse than that, okay…? I just, I’m sorry, okay?” He said.

“You don’t sound that sorry.” Y/N replied, you crossed your arms.

“Man, just bare with me, aight? I’m not used to saying stuff like that.” He said, clearly flustered.

You let your guard down and stared at him. Of course, you still felt extremely scared knowing he was one of the killers but he felt so… relatable? Funny, almost. Why was Joey even a killer? What did he even do?

“It’s okay.” You said after a few silent moments. He looked at you.

“Really…?” He asked, a bit dumbfounded.

“Yeah… it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” You mumbled awkardly as he stood up straight again, putting his knife away.

“I doubt that but still… it’s nice seeing you again.” He said with a geeky smile. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise as you held your worst to your chest, looking around.

“I-um… why aren’t you trying to kill me…?” You asked in a quiet, awkward voice. It felt so strange speaking to other people your age. Quentin was fine but this was Joey.

Joey stared at you for a second. Not even he knew the answer to that question yet. Well, he didn’t but he didn’t want you outright tell you that he had a crush on you. He scratched the back of his neck and nervously looked around. He wanted to shoot his shot since he wasn’t sure if he’d see you again for a long time but he didn’t want to rush things and make you uncomfortable. Not that he cared, if this thing between you two was possible then he’d be as patient and respectful as he could.

“I think you’re cool.” He replied as you stared at him. You blinked a few times in both shock.

“You think I’m cool…?” You questioned.

“Yeah, yeah… you don’t like that?” He asked.

“No, I do, but… you’re a killer.” You said, your eyes wide with fear subconsciously as you looked at him.

Joey felt a sting in his chest with the way you were looking at him. But, you were right. He was indeed a killer. Fucking Frank, he thought to himself. If it weren’t for him and Julie pretending to be so badass, he wouldn’t be here. Although, he probably wouldn’t have met you. He deserved to be here for helping them kill that janitor. Joey knew it deep down but he wanted to preserve the image of himself he wished he had. A geeky Canadian teenager. Something he once was before he hung out with the wrong crowd.

“I know I’m a goddamn murderer, okay?! I wish I wasn’t but I had no choice!” He snapped. You seemed taken aback by his sudden outburst.

“I’m sorry, I…” Y/N stammered as he shook his head, sighing deeply.

“No, it’s fine… my bad. I’m just used to getting mad easily ‘cause of my friends. I dunno, you just miss social cues when you hang out with the same three fuckers.” He said.

You fumbled with your hands nervously and looked towards the waiting room. You thought for a second before clearing your throat.

“Um… wanna sit…?” You asked nervously as you pointed towards the waiting room. Joey stared blankly before looking at you, surprised by the suggestion.

“Uh, yeah, definitely.” He nodded eagerly as he followed after you.

You walked into the room and sat down on one of the chair, putting one leg over the other. Joey seemed much more confident when sitting, getting comfortable with his arms crossed and legs spread. You didn’t know why but you smiled at how comfortable he quickly got. Joey was a mystery, an interesting one to say the least. Y/N looked around at the walls.

“So… how are you…?” You say.

“Chilling, I guess… you?” He asked.

“Surviving.” You joke as he chuckled lightly.

“Sorry, I gotta ask… what do you survivors even do after the trials? When I first got here, I thought you would all be dead permanently.” He said to you.

“Oh, uh, there’s like a campsite? We get our own tents and supplies. We kinda just explore the woods and dreadfully wait for the Entity to choose the unlucky four.” You explained.

“Unlucky four, huh? Why are you here?” He asked you. Y/N shrugged lightly.

“Honestly, I don’t know… I was happy and free until the fog came. I’m starting to lose track of the days.” You said.

“Me too.” Joey said with a deep sigh.

“Why are you here…?” You asked nervously.

“Me? Uh… fuck. Look, I’ve been doing some self-reflection and getting in touch with like, emotions and shit. I know what I did was wrong but it was Frank’s fault. And Julie influenced his dumbass… if only they didn’t think they were fucking Harley and Joker.” He muttered.

“What happened?” Y/N asked.

“I—or we, killed a janitor… it was some older dude. Me and Susie didn’t want to but I dunno, I never thought peer pressure was real but… I guess I was just scared shitless when I saw Frank with that knife…” He said. You could hear the guilt in his voice as he leaned forward.

“And it could’ve been something we could’ve easily redeemed ourselves for but… that’s when the Fog came. I dunno… ever since I met you, I’ve just been thinking a lot.” Joey said.

“Me?” You ask as he looked at you.

“Yeah… not in a weird way but, you’re cool and normal… something I don’t find often nowadays.” He shrugged as you nodded, your heart thumping from how flustered you’d become.

“So, who’s this Frank?”

“Frank? Well, he’s my bro. My best friend, as you people would say. I dunno, he was kind of a loser now that I think of it but ride or die, amirite? Anyways, I always knew he was kind of crazy. And Julie too. I never liked her too much, she was always kinda bossy. Especially towards Susie.” Joey explained.

“Anyways, we formed the Legion. It was us four against the world for a bit. Quite literally now that I think about it. I think the Entity changed Frank… he’s more… violent now? Literally doesn’t even listen to reason anymore.” He said.

“Sounds like an asshole, sorry.” You said as he smiled.

“He is, don’t worry.” Joey said.

“So, that’s why you’re here? You got scared and were forced to do something? That’s such bullshit.” You said, looking at him.

“Yeah, I guess so…. I’m really nothing to be scared of.” Joey said before falling silent, holding his head for a second when he heard whispers in his head.

“Are you alright?” You asked.

Joey felt the Entity’s anger with him. At times, it was scary. He remembered what happened to Susie when she didn’t comply with what it wanted her to do. It just twisted her even more and made Frank into a complete monster. He shut his eyes tightly. Joey wasn’t making an effort to sacrifice anybody and the Entity was growing tired and bored with this trial.

“I’m fine, just fatigue is all…” He lied.

“But, um… yeah, thank you for opening up to me about that stuff… and for your gloves.” You said, smiling warmly. He looked towards you.

“You remember that?” He asked.

“How could I not? You’re still my friend. A good one, at that.” You say, grabbing his hands softly and standing him up. Joey wished he didn’t have his other set of gloves on so he could feel your skin.

“I was gonna suggest you drink some water slowly but… there’s none.” You said to him.

“Real smart.” He sarcastically laughed with a grin. You smiled too.

“Please, I literally forgot we were in hell.” You said.

“Oh, this is hell?” He asked, becoming a bit more bold when it came to flirting with you.

“Maybe.” You replied with a smile.

You frowned when he held his head again. Joey grunted at the sudden sharp pain in his head, a migraine worse than when the frenzy ended. You put your hand on his shoulder, watching him with concern as he grit his teeth. Why they hell was this happening now? Why the fuck did the Entity suddenly care so much? Joey knew what it wanted. It wanted it to hurt her.

“Y/N…” He muttered.

“Uh, what’s up…?” You asked in concern.

“I don’t think it wants us to waste anymore time.” Joey said, wincing from the pain and becoming more overwhelmed when the whispers grew louder. Y/N couldn’t hear anything.

“What? The Entity?” You asked.

“Listen, you should just… run, okay? Go do a generator or something.” He said before he cried out in pain after finishing his sentence.

“Joey?!” You asked with panic in your voice.

“Fuck…! Quit it, you motherfucker!” Joey yelled at the Entity, holding his head. You rubbed his back, totally unsure of what to do.

“I-It’s okay…! Don’t listen to it!” You said to him.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” Joey said to you when you suddenly felt a sharp pain plunge into your stomach. Your eyes widened as Joey stood tall, aggressively twisting the knife before pulling it away.

You coughed out blood onto his chest, clinging to his shoulders when you felt yourself lose blood rapidly. Joey pushed you back, slashing again at your chest. In that moment, he felt rage, anger, sadness, regret, shame, and guilt. But, the bloodlust he felt was even stronger than what the frenzy made him feel. He couldn’t control it. The Entity did. You wailed as you curled up, not expecting anything that just happened. Joey cleaned his knife off, putting his mask back on and lifting his hood.

Joey didn’t speak. He couldn’t even look at you when he picked you up. It made him feel even worse at how weakly you were wiggling. You punched at his back as hard as you could but you were ready to faint at any given moment due to the extreme blood loss. Joey shut his eyes tightly once he got to the hook, hoisting you off of his shoulder onto it. Your eyes shot wide open at the hooked sensation. The hook shot adrenaline through your body as you tried lifting yourself up, letting out a scream as you hung there.

He couldn’t even bare to look at you. Even in his crazed state of mind, he seemed ready to just kill himself. Why did the Entity do what it did? He just turned and walked away as fast as he could. Due to the amount of time you wasted with Joey, the Entity just decided to kill you then and there. It didn’t want to wait for any of your fellow survivors to come and get you. It was bored and hungry. Joey began his frenzy once he heard the Entity finish you off, deciding to take his anger out on the remaining survivors.

You slowly opened your eyes to see Yui watching you intently. She seemed surprised you were awake and brushed your forehead. Beside her was Claudette who made sure you were okay.

“You’re awake.” She said.

“Yui…?” You asked, disorientated.

“You did not last long, at all.” She jokingly said as you sat up. Claudette seemed too shy to tell you not to sit up. You winced.

Usually, it would take a few days for all wounds to completely heal.

“You guys must have had a rough trial.” Laurie said as she kneeled down beside you. You looked towards the other three.

Quentin, Bill, and Ace seemed to be in a worse condition than you. Multiple bandages and bloodied wounds. Your mind immediately went to Joey. What had happened? You winced at the pain in your stomach.

“It’s a really deep wound. Just sit back and relax.” Laurie said to you as you nodded.

You thought about Joey. You remembered your last interaction with him, how he seemed unwilling to kill you. What did the Entity do to him? Would he be like that forever? You teared up at the thought of it. Joey didn’t deserve to be here, he was just like you and Quentin. He was normal. You shut your eyes and hopes that maybe you’d see him again. There was a sense of heartache within you when you thought of him now.

“Heard you had an amazing fucken trial.” Frank said to Joey, congratulating him but Joey wasn’t having any of it.

“Fuck off, Frank.” He growled at him as Frank held his hands up jokingly.

“Too much palettes dropped on your tiny brain, Joe?” Julie asked sarcastically, sitting close to the fire inside the lodge in Ormond.

“The Entity seemed happy with your trial, Joey. Maybe we won’t have to do one for a while.” Susie suggested, twirling her knife.

“Probably for the fucking best.” Joey muttered as Frank stood up, tilting his head.

“Why are you so riled up, man?” He asked.

“Just leave it, Frank. Joey’s becoming soft.” Julie said, rolling her eyes.

“And you’re not? We’re in a whole different fucking dimension!” Joey snapped.

“Why would I be? We get to do whatever we want.” Julie shrugged.

“I thought that way too… when I was a fucking kid.” Joey said to her as she glared.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Frank questioned him.

“You guys are still so fuckcing delusional… we can do whatever we want, really?! Even if we weren’t in his shit hole, we wouldn’t have had money, jobs, or a place to stay. I can’t believe I was that fucking childish to think this was paradise.” He said to them.

“Where the fuck is this coming from then, huh?! You just had a good fucking kill sesh and now here you are bitching like a fucking pansy.” Frank said to him.

“Kill sesh? Maybe, I am a fucking pansy for not wanting to be cool and edgy for killing innocent people.” Joey said, inches away from each other’s faces.

“Innocent people, huh? Who’d you see there, Joey?” Julie asked, a grin on her face. She seemed excited from the anger.

“Nobody.” He quickly replied.

“Was it somebody from school?” She asked.

“I didn’t see nobody, now fuck off.” He said.

“Ever since that one Ormond trial, you’ve been acting so fucken soft. We all noticed, Joey. You feel bad for one of those survivors, don’t you?” Julie said to him.

“They’re not worth feeling sorry for, Joey. They’re here for a reason and we have to punish them.” Frank said to him.

“How the fuck do you know that? Did that janitor deserve it?! Did Susie deserve this?! They sure as hell didn’t and neither did Y/N!” Joey yelled at them. Susie’s face lightened a bit. She also missed her old life but was often bullied by Julie.

“Y/N, huh? Must be one of those newer gals. You like her, Joey?” Julie asked him.

“Skip of the tongue, bitch.” Joey muttered.

“Awe, you finally found a girl. Frank and I were starting to think you’d be a virgin for eternity.” Julie said to him with a laugh.

“Shut the fuck up.” Joey said angrily.

“Whatever, she’s not worth it. She’ll probably end up as the Entity’s lunch by next week. Sometimes it kills survivors for good. Just imagine what it would do to somebody one of the killers cared for.” Frank said, smiling when the realization hit Joey.

“Awe, Joey’s showing emotion for once.” Julie teased. Joey felt scared for the first time in forever. Was it true? Would it kill Y/N because he cares for her in that way?

“Leave him alone, guys. You act like you’re not a couple.” Susie said to them.

“Oh, shut up. That’s different, we’re a group.” Julie rolled her eyes.

“Fuck you guys.” Joey said as he stormed off, leaving the other three. He needed to check up on Y/N somehow.

[empress-simps]

it is i, your friendly neighborhood 'squishy cheeks' requester!! upon this gorgeous day, i have arrived to tell you how much i loved my squishy cheeks reader ask!!! it was amazing i think my heart skipped like 10 beats!!! (´ε｀ )

so with that, may i request again a scenario with gn!reader(and yuuji, megumi and gojo) who had just woken up from a bad dream and goes to ✨the boys✨ for comfort? but they just end up talking for hours and hours until it's literally morning? imagine the others walking to their dorm and hearing these two idiots talking about snail facts at 4 am lolololo sorry precious sleep but snail facts are more important‼️‼️

did you know snails can take up to 3 year naps? i'd wish to be a snail but then i wouldn't be able to read ur works and that would make me sad :(

thank u for reading and take care of urself! ♡(ӦｖӦ｡) have a nice morning/day/evening darling!!! ♥️♥️♥️

Comforting their s/o from a bad dream

▪︎Featuring: Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi and Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen

▪︎Pronouns: They/Them [Gn! Reader]

▪︎Genre: Fluff and light crack

▪︎Warnings: NOT EDITED SO THERE WILL BE TYPOS/GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, a little angst and awesome snail facts you probably couldn't handle

Note: DANG IT THIS IS SO CUTE I- thankyou love aaack ur so sweet! I didnt know snails can take 3 year naps- time to research *cracks my knuckles* HOPE U LIKE IT! ALSO SORRY FOR THE DELAY I TOOK A SHORT BREAK FROM WRITING

》 Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

》 Main Masterlist

You woke up with a start.

Your eyes darted around the room as beads of sweat gathered on your body along with a shaky and clammy hands.

You took a few steps and that lesd you to where you are right now. Your boyfriend's room. For a second you hesitated knocking ont wooden door but your worries were pushed aside when a sleepy Yuuji opened the door.

"Yuuji.." You mumbled and hugged the sleepy boy who wrapped his arms around yours. "Do you want a snack?" He asked, still disoriented to see the state you were in. "No.." you mumbled, that's when he noticed and all evidence of him being sleepy was gone and he's now checking you for any possible injury.

"Are you hurt?"

"No.. well, not physically." YUJI IF U DONT CUDDLE THEM I'LL BEAT YOU-

Yuji pulls ypu in and shuts the door, giving ypu both some privacy from the outside world.

Three hours later and you're holding your hands in your hair as Yuuji patted ypur back.

"It's alright honey.." He mjmbled and rubbed your back.

Megumi, who was about to go for his morning run paused behind Yuuji's door, leaning a bit. He grew alarmed when he felt the room was silent and heavy, resulting in him pressing his ear against the door vowing to beat Yuuji if he did something to you.

"They can take three year naps but some of them can only live up to three years Yu! THEY'VE MISSED OUT SO MUCH!" You exclaimed, putting your hands up in despair as Yuji akwardly tried to comfort you through your crisis. Please help this poor boi he's so lost, any will do

"I'm sure they didn't-"

"HOW WOULD WE KNOW!? WE AREN'T SNAILS!" You flailed your arms around startling Yuji and Megumi who was still listening in.

"This is stupid.. can't they be a normal pair for once" He groaned, putting his earphones in while sporting a mildly dsitrubed face for the whole day.

"Gumi... Can I come in?"

You didn't even have to knock when the door swung open and hugged you tightly. The faint smell of Megumi clinging to your skin the longer time you both hug.

"Bad dream?"

"Yep."

"Cuddles??"

"Yes.. but can we talk?"

Megumi almost had a heart attack as he nods nervously, "You're not breaking up with me are you?" He worries, making you laugh. He's just there like 💧👁👄👁💧

"No, you stupid. I just wanna talk about stuff to get my head of.. you know.." you mumbled, he breathed out a sigh of relief and nuzzled his face in your neck. "Of course, my love."

And there you are, in the crack of dawn spewing animal facts to your boyfriend while laying on his lap.

"Do you now snails constantly cry?" You asked, playing with his hands as he quirked an eyebrow at you. "Really? Why?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "Dunno. Science." Resulting in him laughing and ruffling your hair.

"Are you giys into snails..?" Yuji mumbled, horrified. How he managed to enter Fushiguro's room undetected remains a mystery.

Megumi furrowed his brows, "What? No- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? HOW DID YOU ENTER!?"He yelled while his bestfriend panics.

"I JUST WANNA ASK IF YOU HAVE RAMEN!"

Megumi clicked his tounge, "I don't have one! Get lost!"

"Well can you ask Y/n if they have ramen?"

"Nope. Sorry, I ran out.." You shrugged and apologized, making Yuji sigh in defeat and mumble dissapointedly as he leaves the room.

If anyone of you has spare ramen please donate it to him HE'S STARVING

Truth to be told, Megumi keeps a hidden stash of ramen inside his room. If it weren't for you sitting in his lap and looking adorable he would give some to Yuji.

Now this man right here just bursts into yiur room unannounced. He would just embrace you and ask what's wrong.

Its like he has a built in sensor

"Satoru...? Why are you-"

"Sh.. I'm here..." he mumbles, nuzzlingbyour neck as you just spent some time inhaling his cologne and hearing his calm and steady heartbeat that eases your worry away.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe not now.." you mumbled. He hummed and nodded "I see."

Now he's gonna make it a mission to get your mind off the dream that you had with the most random thing.

Animal facts.

Ngl, you didn't know if you'd be annoyed with him or just let him ramble since you'll feel bad. He's just trying to make you feel better after all.

"Baby. Baby. Baby. Baby."

Just as about you thought he ran out of actually interesting facts he pokes you and calls your name repeatedly. Like a toddler.

You internally groaned, "I'm notgonna embarass myself again Gojo. Don't try to test my knowledge about this.

He let out a laugh, "honey, I'm not embarassing you! Now, did you know some snails have hair on their shells-"

"What?" You made a disgusted face to your lover as he laughed and tried to show you pictures. "No! I don't wanna see- Gojo Satoru!" You shriveled as he made you look, laughing at your weirded out face.

"I shouldn't have listened in..." Nanami mumbled as he walked away, clearly tired from the antics he heard from the door. "The day hasn't even started yet they're making me tired already.."

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Fathering a Phantom ch2

I just wanna Talk, I swear

Here we have the chapter 2 for that fic from earlier! Once again, here ya go @five-rivers @floralflowerpower and @uwuplasmiusuwu

“Cole I’m going to murder someone,” was the first thing that Toby said to his husband upon arriving once more in their temporary sanctuary. Cole paused mid throw of his javelin, electric sparks crackling up the polearm, and turned to look at his husband. Toby’s wings were ablaze, his nails sharpened into claws, and his eyes a colorful storm, as though he couldn’t decide what to turn into for maximum lethality. Cole set down his javelin and wrapped around Toby in a hug.

“Who are you planning to murder, sunshine? And should I join in? I haven’t gotten into a good fight since we got here, which is a shame.” Cole coalesced from a mass of clouds into something a bit closer to his original body when Toby relaxed in his embrace, running his fingers through shimmering feathers made of embers. “You really do look like a star like this, by the way.”

“There was, I think, a war forged around here who fired a bunch of rockets at a child! You know that liminal kid I told you about?”

“Oh right, we’re rare in this realm, huh?” Cole’s face scrunched up in confusion and he arched a brow. “I thought the liminal around here beat up the tyrant ruling the place when he woke up?”

“I didn’t exactly ask about what must’ve sucked when I half blew up the metalhead.” Toby flew over to the couch and flopped face first into it. “Now I gotta track him down.”

“Why only half? Sounds like someone you’d take out in one go if you had the drop on em.”

“Well, do you wanna traumatize a kid of unknown cultural origins? He’s so small, and his friends were clearly still living humans. I dunno if he’s seen someone die before, let alone a ghost getting Ended. If I recall, committing murder is a bad way to start a friendship with a child.”

Cole snorted and gave Toby a pat on the shoulder. “Alright, fair, Sildar didn’t like me much after that rescue. But hey, now you can put that on your to do list! Murder, the answer to most problems.” Toby laughed, phasing through the couch when Cole sat on him. “There he is, my giggly celestial chandelier.”

“Do you even remember what a chandelier is? I know you broke like three of them over someone’s head, but I forget whose head.” Toby put out the flames in his feathers and stretched, satisfied when his spine popped a few times. “It’s nice to still be able to do that.”

“I’ll be honest, being a cloud has made the sound of your joints popping kinda gross to me. It sounds like you’ve still got a flesh and blood body.” Cole sat up, scratching his head. “Do you still have a humanoid body? With like, meat and bones and stuff?”

“Probably, yeah. We’ll see, cause if so that’ll come in handy with helping out this liminal kid. Said his name is Danny Phantom.” Toby paused, the feeling of his feather being torn an odd and upsetting one. “Speaking of whom, I should go meet up with them. Think you can find this ‘Skulker’ guy while I educate some kids?”

Cole kissed Toby on the cheek and gave him a thumbs up. “Will do! I can’t promise there’ll be much left of him afterward though, I’m not a fan of idiots who attack kids.” Toby smiled and in a flash of light and beat of wings, he was gone. Cole nodded to himself and grabbed his maul, crackling with electric arcs, and opened up the door to their temporary Sanctuary. “Now then, who the fuck is Skulker?”

After having a small debate about where they couldn’t go and why, team Phantom finally ended up at the indoor roller rink that was partially destroyed by a giant ghost crab a while ago, and sat down at a table that Danny cleared of debris with an ectoblast or three. “Ok guys, I think this is a good enough place to call him up.”

“Are we sure it’s a good idea to call him at all?” Sam held up the feather she’d kept in her pocket, turning it about to watch the golden flame dance. “He took down Skulker pretty fast and it usually takes you a good half hour to do that, Danny.”

“Skulker specializes in attacking Danny is all, Sam. We’ve got the weapons to handle pretty much any ghost we normally deal with, and Danny took down the king of ghosts. I’m pretty sure he can handle anyone else.”

“Plus, Toby wrecked Skulker pretty bad. If he wanted to fight, I’m pretty sure he would’ve started a fight.” Danny condensed his ectoblasts into one ball of ectoplasma and stretched it out into a pole. “Imagine all the cool stuff he could show us!”

“Alright, if you say so.” Sam snapped the feather in half, surprised by how easy it was to do, and grabbed her ecto-pistol. For a moment, there was silence. Then the sound of wingbeats filled the room and Toby appeared above the rink as though landing from a long flight.

“That’s a spell I’m not used to casting frequently in a day. Heyo kids!” Toby waved, tucking his wings by his sides while walking closer. “Sorry for the delay, I was talking to my husband. So, names again just to be sure: Sam, Tucker, and Danny, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. What do you mean spell, exactly? Do ghosts have magic ontop of the other ghost powers now?” Tucker spun the lipstick laser around in his fingers, remembering Desiree’s magic and Freakshow’s staff.

“Anyone who can do magic keeps the ability in death, usually. I’m not dead though, I’m Deathless.” He spread his wings and spun around, thumbs pointing to his chest. “I was born awesome like this, and so was Cole. But, based on your faces you weren’t born like this?”

“No,” Sam said, gesturing at Danny. “This is a recent thing, it’s been since about…” Sam paused, her gaze landing on the wall behind Toby. “March of last year, so 14 months.”

“Yeah, god, we’ve been doing this for over a year now, haven’t we?” Tucker, who had held up a camera to record everything Toby was saying, slumped a bit in his seat and sighed. “Feels like it’s been like this forever and like it happened yesterday.”

Toby stared at them all like they’d each grown extra limbs in odd places – Danny even checked to make sure he hadn’t done that while feeling both old and young at the same time due to how little time had actually passed – before zipping over to Danny and holding his hands just over the teen’s face. “Oh my gods, you’re a baby.”

“I am a teenager, thank you.” Danny gently pulled Toby’s hands away from his face, a brow raised. “What, is 14 infantile to angels, feather man?”

“You’re only 14 months dead, Danny, that makes you a baby ghost.” Sam snorted and Tucker covered his mouth to try and hide his laughter. A snap of Toby’s fingers and flowers began growing in Tucker’s hat, and seeds appeared above Sam, growing into flowers as they fell all over her. “If you’ve had regular interactions with that metal head, no wonder your aura’s all aggro.”

“Skulker’s not exactly the worst of the ghosts we’ve had to fight over the months,” Danny said.

“Oh yeah, that’d have to be either Walker, Spectra, or Vlad. It’s really a toss up between Spectra and Vlad, if you ask me.”

“Vlad wants to kill Danny’s dad because he sees his mom as a trophy that was stolen from him, while Spectra tried to kill Jazz just to depress an entire school so she could feed on the misery to look young.” Sam brushed away the flowers and weighed two in her hands. “Yeah, those around the same level of grossly evil.”

Toby’s wings ignited at some point while Sam was talking, and the sunlight streaming in from the hole in the roof grew somewhat brighter. He reached into a bag he had strapped to his waist and pulled out a book and a pen, his smile all teeth. “Tell me, please, a list of all the adult ghosts who have attacked you children? I’d like to have a discussion with each of them.”

“If we give you their names,” Danny said before Tucker could answer, “do you promise not to go slaughtering them all? I don’t need to know ghostly body language at all to know that flaming wings come from a place of anger and imminent violence.”

“When did you read a thesaurus, Danny?”

“Sam, I’m insulted: I know tri-syllabic words. I can even say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“I promise not to slaughter all of the ghosts you inform me hurt you in the past few months, yes. Names?” When Tucker listed off names, Toby wrote them down with an inhuman speed, and Danny exchanged a look with Sam, worried about how exactly that deal might be loopholed around. “Right,” Toby chirped while slamming his book shut, “I’m here to answer some questions of yours, not just ramble about myself and assemble a… list of people to talk to. Got any?”

“So many that I don’t even know where to start.”

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

If you're still doing the prompts you should do the gang (alex, julie, luke, reggie) and (platonic) cuddles!!! (I'm so soft for them and have read every jatp fic tagged platonic cuddles KFKZKDKD)

you know what ask and you shall receive. i wanted to write core4/juke cuddles today so here’s a mindless piece with cuddles and nothing else.

sit tight like bookends // 1.5k words // ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Luke’s kind of having a terrible day.

It’s not terrible for any reason. He’s just grouchy. For starters, he misses being alive. It’s nice to be able to touch Julie now, and to occasionally be visible to people with her help, but it’s not the same. On a day like this in the past, he might have gone for a hard run, just to sweat and feel his heart race. Or maybe taken a nap. Or eaten a bunch. He knows ghosts don’t get hungry, but he misses being able to eat just for the sake of it sometimes, for the comfort of warm food on a cold day.

Not that he can feel the cold anymore either. But whatever. You get the point.

So he's having this terrible, grouchy day, and he ends up spread-eagled on Julie's bed, even though he knows he's not meant to be in her room. It just sucks how long she's gone at school every day, and he knows he's not supposed to visit her at school even more than he's not supposed to be in her room. He's not even prying through her stuff this time! He's just innocently feeling sorry for himself.

Even with his eyes closed, he can feel and hear the presence of someone else poofing into the room. Then he hears Alex's voice, "Dude, you know you're not supposed to be in here when Julie's not home."

Luke cracks open one eye. Alex is standing with his hands in his pockets, but his shoulders aren't all up against his ears like they get when he's anxious. More than anything, he looks that particular, Alex-brand mixture of irritated and concerned, eyebrows raised, lips pressed together, eyebrows furrowed. "C'mon, man. What gives?"

Luke sighs, long and dramatic, and snaps, "I don't know, okay?!" mostly just because in the moment, it feels good to be a little terse. Then the moment ends, and he feels bad, his stomach turning all tight and guilty. "Sorry, Lex," he groans, dragging his hands over his own face and then keeping them there, so he doesn't have to see Alex's expression melt into that other Alex-brand look, the one where he's halfway between knowing and affectionate. Somehow, that face is worse than the irritated-concerned one. "I'm just... I dunno. I don't wanna be a ghost any more. And I miss food. And Julie's still not home. Today sucks."

"That's fair enough," says Alex, like he always has when Luke is whinging for no reason, because Alex only ever tells him to shut up or be reasonable or quit whining when he's really being ridiculous, and Luke appreciates that, that Alex knows when to let him ramble but knows when enough is enough. Luke feels the mattress move as Alex sits on the end of the bed. "Like, you shouldn't be such an asshole about it—" Luke can't help but smile at that, knows Alex is grinning too without even looking "—but it's still fair." A moment of silence. In his mind's eye, Luke can see Alex staring into the carpet like it holds some answers for him, thinking hard enough it basically counts as a workout. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Alex asks eventually, soft. He means it.

Luke shrugs. It's nice in this dark little cave he's created with his hands. "I don't know, man."

"Okay," says Alex. The mattress shifts more under Luke. Then, Luke feels his right side glow with warmth as Alex lies down beside him. Sometimes he wonders if since they became ghosts, he can actually feel his boys' auras, or something, because he's sure this sense of care and steadiness didn't radiate off Alex quite like this when they were alive. Maybe it's been since the Orpheum, actually. Luke can't really remember. "C'mere," Alex encourages him. "I'm good for hugs today, if you want some."

Maybe once upon a time Luke would have pretended not to be eager, but even then, he would have done a bad job, and now he doesn't even bother with the act. Immediately, he takes his hands off his face, blinking against the return of the light as he turns to Alex, flings an arm across Alex's chest and a leg over Alex's hip, snuggling up tight until he's plastered to the side of Alex's body. Alex just laughs, quiet, extends his arm out so Luke can pillow his head on Alex's shoulder, one hand coming up to mess up Luke's hair even more than it already was.

For a moment, they lie there together, Luke relaxing until he feels more and more like his body and Alex's body are synced, breaths coming in and out at a similar pace. The bitter, jittery feeling in his spine eases back, lets go of his tongue, so he feels less likely to bite at whoever comes close.

Which is good timing, because there's another whoosh, and this weight lands behind him, on the bed as soon as they arrive.

"You guys are cuddling without me?" Reggie says, but he doesn't sound upset. In fact, he sounds delighted that there's cuddling happening, period. There's scuffling, and then two thuds, because Reggie knows better than to let his shoes touch Julie's bed, and then Luke feels a different warmth, sweeter than Alex's, more caramelised, and Reggie spoons against Luke's back, his nose burying into Luke's neck and one arm laying all the way over him to rest on Alex's chest.

"We were cuddling without you, because Luke was being a miserable grouch, but we've been interrupted," Alex says primly, and as Luke manages a mildly offended hey!, Reggie laughs, not phased at all. Luke can feel it as it vibrates from Reggie's chest to his own back, the tangibility of his joy making Luke feel warm from the inside. Reggie and Alex start bickering over the top of his head, and he doesn't really pay attention to them. Some part of him is trying to string some lyrics together, about being warm, about being able to feel someone else laughing because they're pressed so closely to you that their happiness feels just as much your own. But he's not quite sure what he's trying to say, yet.

They're still there when Julie gets home from school. Luke hears the door open and close, feels Reggie go tense, like he's worried they're going to get yelled at. But Julie only sounds kind of exasperated when she says, "Seriously, guys? Boundaries?"

"Luke's having a bad day," Reggie explains right away.

"Not anything serious," Alex corrects him, "just in a bad mood."

Luke nods and wriggles a bit between his boys, sits up so he can look at Julie properly.

The feeling of his heart in his mouth when he sees her will apparently never stop. She looks tired and ruffled from her day at school, hair a cloud around her face where he can see she was running her fingers through it as she thought in class, skirt crumpled at the hem where she would have wrinkled it in her fist, rubbed the fabric between her fingers. She dumps her backpack on the carpet and offers him a grin, and he can't remember what in the world he could have been grumpy about. If being a ghost brought him to her, being a ghost is awesome.

He looks around at the bed and realises they're going to have to rearrange, but Alex and Reggie seem on the same page at the same time, because they're his favourites and he loves them and he wants them close to him always. They move, adjusting and shuffling around, until a spot for Julie appears in between Alex and Luke. With a relieved sigh, she flops down, and Luke might be fooling himself, but he thinks he feels her energy, too. It's softer than Alex or Reggie, enveloping, like warm water scented with something beautiful.

She leans over Luke to kiss Reggie's forehead hello, then kisses Luke on the mouth (she tastes like the cherry bubblegum Flynn always carries around), then she turns to kiss Alex on the cheek. "I have homework to do later," she says, but it comes out a little garbled as she surprises herself with a yawn. Luke, Alex and Reggie exchange a fond look over the top of her head — she'll be asleep before she knows it. Alex nods his head at the clock on her desk and mouths I'll wake her up, because Luke and Reggie both have absolutely zero time perception.

Luke wraps his arms around Julie's waist and holds her close to him, and she settles in, Alex curling up to hold her from behind while Reggie moves up a bit, so he can press himself to Luke and run his hands gently through Julie's hair at the same time. Their different kinds of warm all stitch themselves together, weaving over Luke's body like a blanket, like a shield. All that's wrong with the world is on the other side, kept away from him by Alex's fingers rubbing little circles into Luke's side, by the feeling of Julie's chest rising and falling with her breaths, by the movement of Reggie's arms over his head. By all of them curled as close to him as they can be.

Luke's day isn't so terrible after all.

--

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink @random-nerd-3 @silent-silver-slip @apolo81 @evashmz @bagoffriedrice @thedeathdeelers

[sickybubbies]

A/n: Y'all I realised there's really not enough pregnant Jungkook on here with Jikook ofc I'm a sucker for them lately. Anyway, sorry for the crappy ending, enjoy!

TW: Emeto, Mpreg

----------------------------

"You alright babe?" Jimin rasps, leaning up so he was perching on his elbow as he squints his eyes where he could make out a faint figure of Jungkook half climbing; hauling himself onto the bed under the early greys of the morning. 

"Mhmm," Jungkook hums quietly for a response, grimacing at the acid like texture in his throat that he was left with after throwing up. It was raw and strained, and Jungkook didn't like it one bit. He huffs and slips a hand under his shirt to hold on to his pudgy stomach, for two reasons. It was pushing past the waistline of his sweats from how bloated he was, after expelling the contents of his stomach routinely which tires him out endlessly and he wants to rip his insides out. 

But Jungkook decides to be forgiving, because he's a few weeks into carrying the beautiful baby that he and Jimin had always dreamed about having. The pair had spent days and nights, with Jimin's head on Jungkook's torso as they both squabbled about how they'd raise their child way back in the boyfriend phase. (“One baby with your short genes, one with my tall genes and my good looks, how's that sound?" "Yah!") Jungkook reminds himself that it was all gonna be worth it in the end, it's always worth it. He imagines just how bright Jimin's eyes were to get once their baby was here, if it wasn't bright enough when Jungkook told him the news of his pregnancy; he fears he'd metaphorically go blind from his joy. 

"I've just been sick." He murmurs, leaning back onto the headboard. Jungkook slouches, the energy sucked out of his bones as he shuts his eyes to hopefully regroup himself.

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, more awake now that he was aware of his husband's strife and leans over to press a generous kiss to his forehead. He wasn't going to let the younger deal with it alone, though the ones he accidentally sleeps through he's always up and at his service when needed and to smother him in love for afterwards. 

"I thought you were gonna. I could hear your tummy all night going squelch squelch" He mumbles playfully, hoping it would lighten the dreadful atmosphere. Jimin places a hand on Jungkook's stomach and begins to rub circles into it, hoping it would ease him some.

 The latter's abs had begun to disappear and his stomach was slightly dome shaped from the swell he had, his skin was softer and squishier the closer he gets to the second trimester and Jimin couldn't keep his hands off of Jungkook. In his defense, his husband looked adorable pregnant, he adored the sight so much and loved the tiny being to bits already. 

"Shut up Chim, listening to you is making me wanna vomit again" Jungkook groans, shifting on the mattress so he could get comfortable and pressing a fist to his lips as he feels his stomach fizzle up and an airy burp escape from his lips. 

Jimin pouts, he begins carding through Jungkook's soft purple hair. "Still feel bad? Aren't you supposed to feel better after bringing everything up?" He questions, his heart clenching as he watches Jungkook's face begin to pale and paint a tinge of green. 

Jungkook shrugs. "Dunno about that hyung, I don't feel better at all. I feel queasy" He admits, he'd learnt to vocalize to the older about how he felt; if he doesn't it's gonna end up with another one of Jimin's shirts in the wash, trust he's been there and learnt his lesson. 

"My baby…" Jimin coos softly, propping up next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He keeps his fingers in Jungkook's hair, looking down at him and kissing the crown of his head as he slowly scratches his scalp. He holds the younger tighter when he stiffens and moans, his brows furrowing from the pain and havoc the nausea was causing in Jungkook's stomach from how he nuzzles his nose into Jimin's chest. "It's one of those days huh? Crackers and water, maybe some ginger ale if we feel less stubborn. How long does lil' bean plan to keep you sick for anyways?" 

"That feels nice..." Jungkook mumbles out, relaxing a little. Jimin's soft yet aimless conversations helped keep him distracted, and so were his gentle touches they did a great job in lulling him to sleep. 

Speaking of which, Jungkook is just about to drift into dreamland in the comfort of Jimin's arms when his stomach churns again. He feels a splash of bitter bile in the back of his throat, almost like the residue of sick that was still sitting at his throat from earlier. He almost sits upright, clenching his throat and covering his mouth as he belches. It catches Jimin's attention. 

"Jungkookie, Jungkookie" Jimin says in a haste, cursing under his breath as he looks around for anything Jungkook to spew in without jostling his stomach too much. His eyes drawing back to the younger one in worry when he next hears a wet gag which meant he couldn't hold on any longer now that his hand was leaving his mouth. 

Jimin looks around and finds the glass bowl he had on his side table which Jungkook had brought him months back, he sighs in relief. It was stashed with a bunch of sweets and random bits that he's quickly dumping out. He snags it up and under Jungkook's chin, straightening up with him and clicking his tongue when Jungkook whines and protests. 

"It's okay, Jungkookie it's okay, do it here. In here babe, I'll clean it don't worry. It's just a bowl" He assures softly, lowering it slightly so it wasn't right in his face as he slowly massages the back of his neck. 

Jungkook whimpers, feeling his stomach slosh and his muscles tense as he wraps an arm around his middle. He barely registers Jimin turning the lamp on before he's disgorging a stream of vomit into the bowl. 

He pants and grunts, jolting with a hiccup. His breath gets caught in his throat and he gags, coughing and spluttering before more chunky liquid is brought up which splashes into the bowl. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, just the fact that it looked so much like his dinner still sent his stomach into another wheel. 

"That's it, let it out Kookie, my sweet boy." Jimin hums, digging under the sick man's shirt and rubbing up and down his arched back. He grimaces when Jungkook retches again, throwing up even more which makes his heart ache.

"You're doing well bun, I'm so proud of you. Keep going until you feel like you've finished" He encourages, kissing his shoulder and pulling him closer before pausing when Jungkook sobs. 

"H-hyung…" Jungkook chokes out, hiccuping as fat tears roll down his rosy and embarrassed cheeks. Usually, he's never one to cry so easily but pregnancy hormones had him spiralling into a pouty and emotional wreckage in a flash. Something was gnawing at him. 

"Jungkookie" Jimin whispers so he didn't startle him, stroking his hair back as he listened. 

"W-why this bowl… I got you it f-for our anniversary!" Jungkook cries out making Jimin flinch, his mouth wide in realisation now that Jungkook's refusal to puke earlier was because he didn't want to do it in such a meaningful, meaningful bowl. He forgot Jungkook was so peculiar about the little things. 

"Y-you could've gotten-" Jungkook hiccups. "A-another bowl o-or the trashcan. I w-worked so hard to get you this. Do you know how much it cost me on our holiday? N-now I've been sick in it i-it's all ruined I fucking h-hate you" He rambles, in the spur of his overriding emotions he misses Jimin's amused expression.

"Cute" He murmurs under his breath with a quiet chuckle, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up, squeaky clean and good as new. You won't even remember that you've been sick in it. I'm serious!" Jimin's voice raises a pitch as Jungkook looks at him unconvinced, his doe eyes still holding tears.

"Gimmie a kiss" He giggles, crawling forward while moving the bowl away as Jungkook groans loudly and scrunches his nose and tilts his head back. "A-ah ew no I've literally- Jimin I just puke-" He stammers, pursing his lips as Jimin eventually steals a kiss from him.

His tears were dry now, the fit subsided and it was only laughter and giggles together even if Jungkook's morning was off to a rough start Jimin always made it better. 

[shyneanon]

There is only one bed with red

I bet you thought I was never gonna respond to this one, huh, anon? Nope! I just had to rewrite it like five million times before I felt like it was actually not terrible. lol

Hope you enjoy this even though it’s been foreeeeeever.

---

“Well. Lookit that.”

You stared at the single available bed in the single available room, pretty immaculately kept.

“There’s only one bed,” said Red, leaning against the wall. “How unfortunate.”

You stared at it for a while, then looked back at him. He was flashing his gold tooth at you in a smug grin.

Nope.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I can sleep on the floor.”

His smile vanished.

“Hey,” he said, “hold on, sweetheart. I c’n sleep on the floor.”

Actually kind of nice of him to offer, but as much as he annoyed you… no. “It’s cool, I can do it.”

“Nah, it’s gonna make me feel like trash if I letcha sleep on the floor.”

“Well, ditto.”

He grinned. “Ooh, I gotta solution. How ‘bout we both sleep on the floor?”

You held in a laugh, trying your best to give him a deadpan look. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh….

He waggled his brows at you.

And you let out a snort.

You started to set your things down and move onto the floor but Red shoved you towards the bed. “No,” he said, “I don’ wanna feel like an asshole.”

“You are an asshole,” you said.

“Sure but I don’ wanna feel like one…!”

“OK,” you said, “fine.” Whatever, his loss. You climbed into the bed and got under the covers, and you turned a bit as Red lay down on the floor.

… Dammit.

You sighed. I’m going to regret this.

“Red,” you said.

He turned with an oddly soft smile. “Yeah, beautiful?”

Your face turned warm. His nicknames are more effective than they should be. “Just get in the stupid bed.”

“Oh?” A brow rose, and the soft smile was gone. “Feeling bonely?”

“Don’t,” you said, moving over. “You just look so pathetic on the floor, I can’t do it.”

“Sure, sure.” He moved the covers aside and slid under them with you. “You tell yerself that.”

“I will shove you back onto the floor, Red.”

He shut his mouth (figuratively speaking), and you shut your eyes. He was surprisingly warm for a skeleton, perhaps due to wearing a jacket all day. Since he didn’t have the jacket on, though, you were far more aware of the fact that he was literally just… bone. You could feel his actual spine… It was kind of weird, but not weird enough to keep you up. You were just glad he wasn’t getting handsy. Though the truth was that him getting touchy hadn’t been your main concern. In reality, you tried to avoid having to share a bed with anyone. There was a, um, bad habit of yours that people had informed you of.

But hopefully you wouldn’t do anything crazy tonight.

---

Red was awoken by the feeling of something lying across his whole body.

What the hell?

He was on his side, and he attempted to push it off, but it didn’t budge. Groggy and annoyed, he awkwardly twisted and wriggled until he was on his back and could see what the fuck it was….

It was you.

He squinted, thinking he might be insane, but yeah. It was you. You were lying on top of him. A bit awkwardly, one of your legs was pointing in the direction of your side of the bed, but your head was where the crook of his neck would be, and you were breathing softly.

Red’s face lit on fire instantly.

“Sweetheart?” he mumbled, even though he was pretty sure you couldn’t hear him. When had this happened? Had it happened in your sleep? Had you done this on purpose?

You sighed in your sleep.

Oh… oh my God.

What if she likes me?

Had you instinctively cuddled up to him in your sleep because you… liked him? Or… maybe you liked his smell, or the way lying on him felt… Red was a bit embarrassed to find that he felt giddy, but the giddiness overrode the embarrassment.

“Sweetheart,” he repeated softly, gently wrapping his arms around you. You snuggled closer and he felt his soul start to hum.

We’re… so close….

She’s so cute when she’s asleep….

“You are the most adorable thing,” he said. He knew you couldn’t hear. That was the nice part; he could say whatever he wanted. He started to readjust your stray leg with his own, and his face warmed up even more when you curled your leg around his. He let out a small sound of surprise.

“Baby, you’re uncooperative…. Hah….”

Not that he, uh, minded… having your legs like this….

“Aren’t you just the sweetest,” he purred, pulling you closer. His soul was picking up. While you were asleep he felt no need to maintain his tough guy persona, so he cooed. “Yer cute as hell.”

He nuzzled you, holding you close.

He never wanted to let go….

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, lifting one finger and stroking your cheek. “I’ll keep you safe.” He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling washing over his soul while the two of you were so near each other. “Jus’ stay right here… with me, yeah?”

One hand tangled in your hair and he sighed. It was so soft…. You moved closer to him, making a soft hum, and Red’s grin widened, his soul melting into a puddle.

This was the best night of his life.

—

When your mind started to barely lift out of its unconscious state, the first thing you noticed was that it did not feel like you were lying on the mattress.

The second thing you noticed was that a pair of arms were around you. What the… Red? Why was he…

Oh. Oh no.

I climbed on him in my sleep, didn’t I?

It was a weird habit you’d never would’ve known about were it not for the unlucky victims who had told you about it. You had never woken up on top of someone before— you always woke up next to the person in the morning, in the same spot where you’d fallen asleep, and then they would tell you about how they’d woken up in the dead of night to find your entire body lying on top of them. It also apparently took a lot of effort to push you off, especially since attempts would usually result in you immediately trying to climb back onto them.

Red, uh, didn’t seem to be making any attempts to push you off, though.

“Hah, sweetie… You look so stupid when yer asleep….”

Did he know you were awake? Judging from his low volume, you were pretty sure that no, he didn’t.

His finger wiped the side of your mouth and then immediately withdrew, and you heard him laughing as quietly as possible. Yep, he was trying not to wake you up.

“Gross!” he whispered, and you heard the sound of his hand brushing against the fabric of, presumably, his clothes. “You drool in your sleep!”

More quiet laughter. If you blushed visibly you’d give yourself away, so you just buried your face in his collarbone. Embarrassing.

“... Ah… doll….”

A hand was gently placed on your back.

“I wish we could do this all the time,” he said softly. If he thought you were asleep he wasn’t saying this to flirt with you.

He meant it, then?

“Why’ve you gotta be so damn adorable, huh? M… My soul’s going crazy over here….”

A hand ran through your hair. He was being unusually gentle….

“Then again, that happens a lot when I’m with you.”

Your face got hotter; thank goodness he couldn’t see it from this angle.

His teeth pressed against your forehead. A kiss?

“I wish… I had the guts tah tell ya how I feel.”

Huh? Not… not like… romantically, right?

“You make me feel amazing. Like… really amazing, I… I dunno how t’put it in words cuz I’m real bad with words. S’why I can’ bring myself to tell you, I wanna tell you but every time I open my goddamn mouth all I say is somethin’ suggestive.”

Some silence. Should you tell him that you were awake? You were basically eavesdropping right now.

But at the same time…

“‘N, admittedly… I wish I was good fer you. Which I’m not, I’m… I’m fuckin’ me.”

Why did your heart suddenly ache?

“I’m lazy, I’m sleazy, I dress stupid, I act stupid, I can’t communicate like an adult to save my damn life…. An’ I… I’ve done a lotta bad things. Y… ya should get with some sweet guy who’s responsible ‘n shit.” He muttered: “Lookit me, fuckin’ swearing while I’m tryna talk about my feeli— Fantastic, I did it twice.”

It took all the effort you had to not giggle.

“I wish I was good for you. Ah, sweetie, I’d… I’d take such good care of you, I really would. Or, I’d try. Tryin’ is… really all I could do, t’be honest.”

Trying is all anyone can do.

“... Too bad I suck, yeah?”

Your heart ached again. Red didn’t suck, he was a good guy…. It was probably best to tell him that you were awake before he spilled any more personal information.

“You don’t suck,” you mumbled, turning your head.

“‘M sorry, dollface, did I wake you up with my rambling? I’ll be quiet.”

“No, I’ve been awake for a while.”

His whole body froze up.

“... Ya have?”

“Yeah.”

“H… How much of what I was just saying did you—“

“All of it.”

There was a long, awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I should’ve said something—“

“Fuck,” he said, and you lifted your head. His eye sockets were squeezed shut.

“No, Red, it’s OK—“

“No it’s not, I’ve been makin’ a sappy ass outta myself an’ now I prob’ly made you feel guilty—“

“You didn’t make me feel guilty—“

“Jus’ please don’t say that we should go on a date cuz I know you’re only doing it to make me feel better ‘bout myself—“

“Shut up, Red.”

His eye sockets opened and he looked down at you. You could see the two red lights standing out in the darkness. “... Huh?”

“Stop wallowing in self-hatred and listen to me.”

He said nothing. You would take that as cooperation.

OK, he was listening. So, uh… what should you say?

You actually didn’t know.

So you just kissed him.

Initially he just froze up, but after a moment his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you close, kissing back. W… Wow, this feels really good…. You moved into a better position and felt your hair spill down onto him.

“Sorry,” you said as the kiss parted.

“Sorry?” Red cupped the back of your head and gave you a second fervent kiss. “What the hell for? Ya just kissed me.”

“My hair is kinda touching you.”

“Oh no,” he said in monotone, “how awful. Kiss ruined.”

You snickered and leaned down to press your forehead against his. He looked up at you with fuzzy eyelights.

“I don’ deserve your love,” he said quietly. You smiled back.

“Nobody deserves love, Sans. That’s why it’s so special when someone loves us anyway.”

“You deserve love,” he said, “from somebody better than me.”

“That’s awfully vague.” You kissed his cheek. “And besides, I don’t want love from this person you call ‘somebody better than me.’”

He smiled.

“I want love from you.”

“Hah,” he said, and you saw his eyelights change… They were like hearts now. “Sweetheart, trust me, you already have all my love.”

Your face heated up. “That’s really romantic,” you told him.

“... It is?”

A giggle escaped you. “Yes, Sans.”

You kissed his nasal ridge.

“So?” you said with a smile. “You gonna ask me out or not?”

His eyelights got fuzzy again. “Ya think maybe we could go out sometime, beautiful?”

After kissing his cheek, you said, “I’d love that.”

“So, uh…” He looked at the way you two were positioned. “You think… we could do this more?”

“Absolutely.”

You lay your head down on his ribcage.

“We should fall back asleep,” you told him.

“Sure thing, angel.”

Drifting off took no time at all.