#Lion King Makeup

[foreverrryourssss]

[bl000dywitch]

𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁? 🥲

- my photo don’t remove the source

[jasminusone]

[bitofaditz]

apparently for quite some time there was an overlap of alice cooper fans and deviantart furries/bronies. which made some masterpieces

[coffee-and-geto]

THE SPACE YOU LEFT BEHIND

“Will you stay with me?” It’s like a wish waiting to be granted. “Forever.”

pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer! reader

summary: indeed, after suguru has defected, you’ve been trying to heal yourself and to not loose your mind. but healing ourselves is always harder than helping others, isn’t it? but don’t forget the goal of a sorcerer: protect humans at the risk of your life. and sometimes, death is closer that we think it is.

warnings: heavy angst, injuries, mention of death, blood, depression, eating disorder, pinning, mention of vomit, mention of cigarettes, mei mei, nanami & shoko make and appearance, mention of yaga & suguru, the lion king movie mentionned, jujutsu sorcerers’ life sucks, the story takes shape after suguru's defection, bittersweet/happy ending.

wc: 5,039

When you committed to the world of exorcism after middle school, you hadn’t realized just how much you had underestimated the darker sides of this life, where exorcists dedicate their lives to protecting humans — the primary source of the curses’ existence.

Suguru was right, wasn’t he?

It’s because of them that your classmates died. It’s also their fault that your best friend deserted school after massacring an entire village during a mission.

That put an end to all the memories you cherished so dearly, kept, and illustrated in a diary.

Sunny afternoons after class, eating ice cream with your friends Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. The setting sun signaling the end of a fulfilling day, leading into sleepless nights of sleepovers, where Satoru brought piles of sweets ready to infest your mouths with cavities as Suguru told scary stories about his hometown.

Or shopping days with Shoko, dragging the two boys along to test makeup products on them — the ones you’d never buy considering their outrageous prices.

Or those dangerous missions where you hunted curses, tracking them down to uphold your values: protecting the weak to maintain order and peace.

Such a beautiful motto, isn’t it?

A motto meant to help you, guide you, and support you so you wouldn’t lose sight of your goals.

So why did it fail so much that your once-beloved diary now sits open on your desk, collecting dust since the last time you opened it — not to add a new memory, but rather to look at the last ones you wrote.

Suguru’s departure left a void far more significant and meaningful than you had expected, didn’t it?

Life feels duller. The sky no longer seems as sunny — replaced by a grayish one, heavy with dark clouds threatening storms that mirror your emotions. If you had no tears left to cry, the rain would suffice to push you into your room after classes and missions, both as exhausting as your mind, consumed by draining thoughts.

The silence left by Suguru’s absence is far louder than all the times you screamed into his voicemail after he stopped responding to you. Of course, eventually, you gave up. Not out of choice.

Simply because he had blocked you.

And when changing SIM cards proved futile, you quickly realized through the automatic response that the number you sought was no longer in service.

It felt like all your regrets had come crashing down at once. But in truth, they had only arrived right on time.

If you had helped Suguru the way he needed, he wouldn’t have left. 

He wouldn’t have been condemned.

You wouldn’t have stopped eating, stopped living your life the way you were told you should, or started losing your friends one by one.

Suguru was the first.

Shoko isn’t the second. The brunette seems to hold up much better — although the number of cigarettes she smokes daily has doubled — she doesn’t withdraw into herself the way you do. So, you’re sure you won’t lose her... right?

And as for Satoru… Will he be the next to leave, one way or another?

Or will it be you?

Either way, you’re losing yourselves. It’s been a while since you stopped keeping track of how long it’s been since you last saw Satoru after Suguru’s departure.

Mr. Yaga confirmed that he hadn’t assigned him a single mission — the situation critical, delicate, and as fragile as a flower filled with poison that could make The Strongest falter at the slightest misstep or careless move.

He could very well be dead, and no one would know.

“So… you haven’t heard from him either?” Nanami murmurs, his deep, low voice almost swallowed by the muddy ground and heavy rain that poured as much as your overwhelmed mind.

You shake your head. “Not a single sign of life,” you mumble with the tip of your lips.

The two of you are on your way back to the school after a long mission assigned by your teacher, Yaga. It took you the entire day, but at least your mind feels lighter, despite the constant fatigue weighing on your shoulders like the weight of the world.

As the rain falls harder on you both, Nanami takes the initiative to open his black umbrella, holding it over your head as you stare at your mud-stained shoes.

“Almost three weeks.”

Your friend’s voice sounds distant, like hearing someone underwater.

Your head jerks up. “Hmm?”

“He hasn’t been out in almost three weeks,” Nanami repeats, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The crunching of your shoes and his on the gravel fills the silence before he continues. “Yaga gave him some time, but it’s getting harder to assign missions to others who are on Satoru’s level, you know.”

You don’t react to his words. Of course, he’s right.

Just as he’s wrong.

While Satoru’s behavior of shutting himself away without contact for so long isn’t responsible, his reasons remain entirely valid.

He just lost someone dear to him.

So, can you blame him?

But perhaps it’s time to bring your friend back, even if it means risking losing him — and yourself — in the process.

~~~~

You knock three times on Satoru’s dorm door.

A dead silence answers you.

You try again.

The same response.

So, you try the handle, testing whether it’s locked. However, it gives way under your hand, and a moment later, you step through the doorway into an unrecognizable environment.

Indeed, your best friend’s room — usually adorned with decorations and elements that so vividly reflected Satoru’s lively personality — is now unrecognizable. The windows, typically allowing sunlight to flood in and brighten the room, now shroud it in an ominous darkness. On the floor, clothes, likely dirty, are scattered at your feet. Satoru’s desk is covered in a visible layer of dust despite the dim light. And finally, on the bed you’ve always known, rests a long shape wrapped in thick blankets.

With his back turned to you, Satoru seems to be asleep from where you stand, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Even when you call his name, he doesn’t show any sign of awareness.

So, you close the door and kneel by the side of his bed.

“Satoru?” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on a shoulder covered by your friend’s indigo comforter.

The slight shiver running through him proves he’s very much awake.

But was his mind equally present?

“Satoru, were you sleeping?” you ask, shaking him carefully.

He doesn’t respond, not even with a gesture.

Your throat tightens in the face of a situation you’ve never had to face with him before.

How do you help someone who’s in the same situation as you?

In fact, it’s even worse.

Satoru is Suguru’s other half. Their symbiotic relationship always stopped you from seeing further with Satoru, leaving you questioning what he truly felt for Suguru. Because deep down, you knew you didn’t stand a chance. You’d never hold a place as important as Suguru’s in Satoru’s heart.

So, you chose to fill the void in your heart with love for him. It’s far from enough, but you’d rather not dwell on it. Unrequited love always ends this way, doesn’t it?

You straighten up just enough to lie down on the small remaining space on Satoru’s bed, carefully rubbing your friend’s arm to avoid startling him while offering the overflow of affection that aches to be reciprocated but, for now, can only warm the albino.

You don’t dare complain about the stale smell in the room, prioritizing Satoru’s comfort above all else. You drape your arm around him as he breathes in and out with a shaky rhythm, ignoring the cold of the room that freezes you just as much as the rain from earlier did.

Perhaps half an hour passes. 

Maybe an hour. 

Or more. 

Or even just ten minutes.

The oppressive silence of the room quickly catches up to the sleep deprivation you so desperately need to cure. The cold vanishes. In the end, it doesn’t matter, right?

The only thing that matters is having Satoru in your arms, no matter what, his back pressed securely against you as your breaths synchronize, and your heartbeats merge in a way you’ve always dreamed of.

But when you flutter your eyes open, the absence of cold is quickly replaced by body warmth. Satoru’s thick comforter is draped over you, and his body is pressed against yours.

But what strikes you most is that he’s no longer facing away.

Satoru, his eyelids closed, breathes softly and slowly, the shadow of haunted dark circles staining his angelic face.

You’re about to sit up when Satoru, still without opening his eyes, slides a hand over your arm.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles.

And his raspy voice nearly gives you a heart attack.

There’s only one way for someone to have that effect.

And more than anything, the slight swelling and redness of Satoru’s pale eyelids confirm your suspicions.

Resting your head back onto the pillow, your forehead lightly brushes against Satoru’s.

“Can you look at me?” Your lips move in a near-inaudible whisper.

Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Satoru,” you insist, maintaining the same melancholic gentleness.

So you take the initiative to slowly raise your hands, bringing them toward his soft face to gently lift his eyelids. But what you see causes a crack in your heart, one akin to the shattering of ice under the raw heat of fire.

A small, wet pearl escapes from one of his eyes, deliberately rolling down his cheek, crossing his nose, and vanishing at the corner of his mouth.

Without a word, Satoru opens his eyes, and the embodiment of pain meets your distressed gaze.

His cerulean irises, usually alive with mischief, are as dark as an abyssal chasm. It’s as though a curse itself has taken hold of his gaze, condemning anyone who dares to meet his bloodshot eyes.

Your eyebrows slowly knit together, and with your heart already shattered, you decide to wrap your arms around him, pulling an unrecognizable Satoru against you as his chest releases a trembling breath and your neck grows damp from the occasional drops of warmth falling from his face.

“I’m here,” you mutter in his ear. “I’m here no matter what.”

Your eyelids close slowly, letting the tears you’d held back finally roll down your own cheeks.

Once again, perhaps ten minutes, half an hour, or even the entire afternoon passes before you finally decide to sit up, gently pulling an exhausted Satoru into your arms.

And to your surprise, he allows it.

You help him stand, supporting him with an arm around his body despite the height difference, and guide him to the bathroom. The decision had been made a while ago, even if your consciousness hadn’t fully caught up. After all, you would have wanted someone to do the same for you.

But aren’t we always better at caring for others than for ourselves?

Without protest — even though the idea of seeing Satoru naked might have made you blush last month — immersing him in the warm bath you’ve carefully prepared doesn’t feel as awkward as you’d expected. You’ve never seen him without at least his boxers, so out of respect, you avert your eyes as the poor boy settles into the hot water.

You grab a bottle of shampoo lying around in Satoru’s bathroom, squeezing out a small amount to wash his angelic hair. Despite having likely neglected his hygiene as much as you have lately, your friend is in desperate need of someone to care for him.

Satoru, his eyes still closed, seems almost asleep under your slow, gentle, and careful movements.

It looks like you’re washing a real dead man.

But perhaps part of him has been dead ever since Suguru left? Perhaps a piece of him vanished the moment Suguru was gone?

The faint hum vibrating from Satoru’s lips reassures you that he’s still conscious. You take it as a good sign that he’s relaxing. Your nails softly scratch his scalp, and he lets out a low groan of satisfaction. The foam grows thicker as you continue to massage Satoru’s head.

You rinse the shampoo from his hair with warm water, droplets trickling down his perfect face.

One of those droplets slides just below his eye, so imperceptibly that you wonder if you’d have noticed it at all if you weren’t gazing at his face with almost religious reverence.

Using a washcloth, you pick up Satoru’s body wash this time, lathering it across his skin, applying slightly more pressure to tense areas in need of a soothing massage. Soft sighs escape his nose, signaling that you can continue without bothering him.

After several massages where you pay special attention to certain spots, you fetch a robe, wrapping it around Satoru’s now-clean body. He’s like new, more ready now to hold onto a semblance of consciousness.

But one thing that strikes you is that Satoru, despite being entirely naked and in such a vulnerable state of weakness, allowed you to care for him without opening his eyes even once.

With a faint, gentle smile, you guide Satoru back to his room, grabbing some clean, comfortable clothes for him while he collapses onto his bed under the weight of the world on his shoulders. You help him into each piece of clothing, his body too weak to move as usual, almost lifeless. Then, you lead him to your room, crossing the school’s corridors so he can rest in the clean and organized space you’ve managed to create after pulling yourself together following your own depressive episode of endless, self-destructive days.

Your room is a true haven — tidy, clean, and orderly.

And so your freshly made bed with its crisp sheets seems to call to Satoru. The softness of the mattress cradles him as you drape your immaculate comforter over him.

Like laying a deceased loved one to rest in their coffin, Satoru keeps his eyes closed, his face void of expression, yet with a weariness that seems to have lifted ever so slightly.

~~~~

“How long?”

“I already told you.”

“Liar.”

Satoru pushes the food tray toward you, the arm of the mechanical table brushing against your torso. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

You sigh, the exhaustion of the past few days weighing on you like a heavy, unpleasant rain.

“First of all, you just got back from a mission where you were inches from dying if Shoko hadn’t been there. Second, you refuse to tell me how long it’s been since you’ve eaten — unless it’s been a month — and now you’re saying you’re not hungry?”

Satoru, lying under the pristine white sheets of his infirmary bed, simply turns his head away. It’s as if he’s acting like a machine. 

Mechanical movements, curt responses, and barely any signs of life.

During one of the recent missions assigned to him by Principal Yaga after weeks of absence, Satoru resumed his routine. He sleeps, does his missions, and returns to sleep in his room. Ever since you took the time to clean and organize his room, you haven’t exchanged more than a sentence. The only memory that still haunts you is the blood-red hue of Satoru’s eyes that night in his room.

The void left by Suguru has wreaked havoc.

And while you’ve managed to patch yourself up — or so you think — you’re now trying to help your friend in need. But how do you help someone who refuses to speak?

“And ‘I don’t know’ isn’t an answer,” you add in the face of his silence, rubbing your face, which feels warmer than usual. Perhaps it’s the heat of the room? December is a month where illness comes quickly. But it’s nothing, you reassure yourself.

“You’re flushed.”

“I know.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

Both of you avert your gaze, equally annoyed and concerned with one another.

“When was the last time you even slept? You spend more time watching over my sleep and my meals than looking at yourself in a mirror. You look like a Halloween costume.”

Ouch.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror near the nurse’s desk, and despite Satoru’s harsh words, your state seems even worse than his.

You’ve lost weight lately. The dark hollows under your eyes mirror your grueling schedule, where you spend most of your day juggling missions, watching over Satoru, and helping the school with any task.

Like an escape, you’ve found any excuse to avoid being alone. Especially with yourself.

But isn’t that exactly what Suguru did? The poor guy had no one to talk to, and the one time he tried, you thought he was just exhausted from swallowing curses. That was when he broke down and sobbed in front of you.

The memory alone stings your eyes. And unfortunately for you, you’re not in any shape to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You stand abruptly, turning your head away to avoid showing the cracks in your courageous facade to your best friend.

“Eat. I have a mission in half an hour. I’ll be back tonight.”

As you slip out of the infirmary, Satoru painfully sit up in his bed, opening his mouth to call after you, to say something. Anything. His words were harsh and cruel, while you’ve been patient with him, caring for him more than for yourself.

But he hates it.

Because you only remind him of what Suguru used to do. When he felt terrible, Suguru helped him despite his own pain, despite wanting to vomit up the curses he’d consumed or even die. Suguru cared about his appetite, just as you do now with Satoru. The same with his sleep, his recklessness during missions.

So he doesn’t want to lose you, at the risk of dying a second time.

~~~~

That same evening, you don’t return.

And Satoru notices immediately, because at bedtime, around 10 PM, you usually stop by his room — even more so now that he’s in the infirmary.

Missions take time. So Satoru reassures himself, thinking that you simply took longer and that by the next morning, you’d be by his side to check on him. He would apologize. He’d ask for forgiveness and try to understand the reason behind the instability in your voice before you left earlier.

Did he hurt you that much?

His train of thought is interrupted by urgent voices barking orders, and Shoko putting on her apprentice doctor’s coat as she grabs a spell manual on her way out, meeting Satoru’s confused gaze.

And he understands immediately who it’s about.

Despite his still weakened state and his inability to perform Reverse Curse Technique for some time now, Satoru pulls on his exorcist uniform, leaving his sunglasses on the bedside table, and follows Shoko and the team of medics heading toward a school car. But he swiftly grabs Shoko’s wrist.

If something happened to you, taking a stupid car would only lead to a certain death.

With a gaze as panicked as it is void, Satoru questions his friend.

“Mei Mei went to check on what happened,” Shoko murmurs gravely. “The mission was simple. She should’ve been back over five hours ago.” She points to the time on her watch.

1:20 AM.

Did he fall asleep while lost in thought? How had so much time passed since he noticed your absence earlier that night?

“And you think taking more time in this car is enough?” Satoru spits his words, his voice low but echoing nonetheless into the snowy night as flurries begin to fall around them. “Just tell me you want her dead now, then.”

Shoko glances at the waiting car.

“Then what do you suggest?” she asks, narrowing her eyes, scrutinizing her friend from head to toe before yanking her wrist back sharply. “Look at you. You can barely stand.”

“I can still teleport. You’re far more competent than these clowns,” Satoru replies in the same tone, grabbing her wrist again. “And let me remind you, we cannot lose her.” The warning in his voice sounds like a threat.

It’s only when Shoko finally relents that Satoru teleports them both after she gives him the location where Mei Mei last reported finding you. The pressure of the spell makes them feel like they’re being sucked through a narrow tube, or squeezed in a vice. When they finally arrive at your location, it’s with a pop sound, like a bubble bursting free.

Releasing Shoko’s wrist the very second they arrive, Satoru scans the surroundings — then freezes.

Mei Mei’s blue hair is bent over a body on the ground. In the dim light of the night, only the moon’s rays illuminate a pool resembling wine.

And Satoru would’ve prayed for it to be only wine.

He and Shoko rush toward Mei Mei, who steps aside to face them with a furrowed brow, her expression a foreboding omen.

“Internal bleeding,” she announces to Shoko.

The words ring like a gong in Satoru’s ears, now buzzing. His paralyzed body stands mere inches from you. Your half-closed eyes stare blankly into the void, your arms lying limply at your sides, and a streak of dried blood stains your cheek. Despite the presence of your friends, you don’t react.

Not even when Satoru says your name.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And as many times as it takes before Shoko and Mei Mei push him back, as he struggles to try to hold you in his arms, his hoarse voice cracking, begging you not to leave him.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Satoru Gojo, whose senses granted by his Six Eyes had long been dulled, awakens once again.

He hears your heart beating faintly. The pulse of your arteries, the successive waves of blood pushed by your struggling heart. Your shallow breaths slipping through damaged lungs. The warmth of your blood slowly leaking life away.

Please, no…

As long as it took for Satoru to recover a fraction of his powers, the same amount of time seems to pass while Shoko works quickly to stop your hemorrhaging.

He knows because he no longer hears the blood flowing out of your body. Your pulse has slowed, and though still weak, your heart beats with slightly more determination.

That determination, Satoru perceives as a flame.

A flame you refuse to let extinguish, because he knows you’re fighting not to pass on.

And if you no longer have the strength, Satoru will be the lighter forcing you to keep fighting. He will stay by your side as long as you need him.

And he will refuse to die a second time — unless it’s for you.

~~~~

A few days later.

The roles have reversed.

Satoru, fully recovered from his mission for a while now, devotes all his time to your care. He’s moved his belongings to the infirmary, where you remain recuperating. He insisted on pushing a bed right up against yours to monitor your sleep, your eating habits, and your overall well-being. 

Every movement you make is instantly picked up by his Six Eyes.

Your survival after your mission was nothing short of a miracle for Satoru.

A prayer he made — and one that was answered.

“You tired?” he asks softly, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His cerulean eyes linger on your still-fresh bandages, and a bitter pang squeezes at his heart.

You shake your head despite the telltale dark circles under your eyes. “I’m feeling better.”

“Bored?” he guesses then, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone tinged with amusement. Is he planning something?

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Got something in mind?” you reply, curiosity sparking enough to make you want to laugh genuinely.

Lying beside you in his own infirmary bed pressed against yours, Satoru gently takes your hand in his. He lifts it to chest level, absentmindedly playing with your fingers. “I could put on a movie for us if you’d like…”

“What kind of movie? If you even think about suggesting that cursed Terrifier again, I swear I’ll strang—”

Satoru bursts into laughter at your disgusted expression. His chest shakes with every sound, lifting the weight of any lingering pain in his heart.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the new The Lion King movie,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Mufasa, you mean?” Your face lights up for a moment. “But the movie has just been released,” you add, frowning slightly. “We can’t go anywhere.”

“Who said anything about going somewhere?” He wraps one long arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer just before planting a chaste kiss on your temple — a gesture that nearly makes your lungs give out.

Somehow, Satoru always manages to surprise you.

Despite the movie’s exclusive release at cinemas, half an hour later you find yourself watching it. 

Nestled against Satoru under some thicker blankets he brought, the two of you share snacks scattered across your laps. The only light in the infirmary is the soft glow of the film projector casting the movie onto a pristine wall.

Your cheek rests against Satoru’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat serving as the perfect lullaby to lull you to sleep. On top of that, his long fingers gently scratch your scalp, soothing you further into relaxation.

The moment feels so perfect you almost mistake it for a dream — but no.

Right now, it’s as if the depressive haze that had weighed down both you and Satoru has been blown away, replaced by a fleeting moment of happiness wrapped in the cocoon of this night.

Just like your feelings, the situation between you and Satoru is undefined and confusing. A shared closeness restored, mutual personal care, and a clear attachment to each other.

It seems like friendship, doesn’t it?

But then, why does your hand, resting on your friend’s chest, tremble at the thought of sliding around the back of his neck to pull him closer—close enough for your lips to finally meet his?

Feeling your trembling hand, Satoru shifts his attention away from the movie to look down at you. “Sweetheart?”

Your eyes meet his, drowning in the deep ocean of blue they hold.

With every passing second, you try to speak, to respond, to confess everything. To tell him everything. Yet, with your lips parted, all you can manage is a soft whisper:

“Nothing.”

~~~~

December 25th.

All of Tokyo Jujutsu High has gathered amidst the scents of warm food, the laughter of groups of friends, the unwrapping of gifts, and the feeling of family.

Yet, Satoru feels like something is missing.

This December 25th marks the first Christmas you, Shoko, and Satoru spend without Suguru.

So what’s the point of celebrating? What is Suguru doing right now? Is he spending such a special day all alone?

Alone, outside the school’s festive hall, Satoru stands bundled in a winter coat, snow as white as his hair delicately falling onto his frame. He’s leaning against a wall, as if that simple act could help him stay upright.

His throat tightens.

He wants Suguru back.

But he knows all too well that he won’t have him.

So Satoru doesn’t celebrate Christmas when the one source of his joy has vanished.

Inside the hall, you’re laughing wholeheartedly with a few friends, a glass of champagne in hand and a large scarf draped over your shoulders for warmth.

But amidst the small crowd, the one person who holds your heart is nowhere to be found.

Your smile slowly fades as your eyes frantically scan the room for Satoru. You excuse yourself hastily and begin to search — the hall, the restroom — before finally heading toward the door to the courtyard.

Almost sprinting, you step out into the biting December cold.

And there he is.

With measured steps, you move to stand beside him. He doesn’t budge, even as you gently wipe the dried tears from his face while he sniffles absentmindedly, his nose reddened by the sharp chill.

“Do you believe that he’s thinking of us right now?” Satoru murmurs, his voice rough and low.

“I’m sure of it,” you whisper softly in reply, pulling a tissue from your pocket and holding it to his nose so he can blow. A faint smile tugs at your lips as he thanks you with one last sniffle.

You’re about to put the tissue away when Satoru abruptly but tenderly pulls you into his arms, pressing you firmly against him.

“Satoru?” Your eyes search his, confused, as he leans his face as close to yours as possible, nearly sending your heart into overdrive when his long, slender nose brushes against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, his tone carrying a small smile.

Those three little words leave you speechless, your lips parted in shock at the confession and the sincerity behind it.

It’s as if your entire being comes alive again, breaking free.

After so long without crying, it only takes those words to bring tears back to the surface. Salty streams trail down your cheeks as your face twists, trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you too,” you cry, your voice trembling all the same.

Satoru, his own smile tinged with fragility, wipes your face just as you did for him. His thumbs gently rub your cheeks in a bittersweet comfort.

And in a synchronized motion, your lips connect, pressing against each other with an intensity that makes your souls whirl like the wind does with the falling snow.

Every time your lips part to end a kiss or catch your breath, you find each other again in the next second, as if eternity had tried to keep you apart. The cold ceases to exist around you; the warmth of your finally united souls is enough to melt the ice that had formed within you since Suguru’s departure.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss to catch your breath, your eyes no longer shining with tears, but with love this time.

Neither of you pulls away from the closeness you share. Your bodies speak for you, the silence between you filled with mutual understanding.

Satoru clears his throat. “Will you stay with me?”

It’s like a wish waiting to be granted.

“Forever.”

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix @moonlitwitchdaisy

a/n: hello everyone :)) this fic was special to write tbh. it’s the one that came out of an episode of impostor syndrome where i just wrote without thinking. i’d been wanting to write angst about satoru for a loooong time, so here it is :) (why do i secretly hope i’ve made all of you cry?). anyway, we can finally breathe after big exams! i’ve never looked forward to the christmas vacations as much as this year, lmao. take care of your little faces <3

reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3

[lowkeyrobin]

HEY HEY HEY HEY!! can i req something about walker with and s/o that does choir and/or theatre (if both isn’t too much) PLEASE PLEASE IT WOULD BE SO SILLY PLEASE 🙏

ooo okok I can definitely try! ; idk much ab theatre so I apologize if anythings wrong ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also sorry if this is so short I just didn't have any more ideas lol

WALKER SCOBELL ; theatre kid

summary ; theatre kid + cool weird kid = awesome sauce

warnings ; language

word count ; 226

masterlist

he's always sticking around for rehearsals

if he can't he'll be waiting in the parking lot with his mom or something 💀💀

and he will be attending every show

he finds them genuinely entertaining

and he will watch the original of whatever you're performing at least once so he knows what's going on

he buys you a little gift after the last show that pertains to said show

like a lion plushie for the lion king ykwim

he will be reading and responding to any/all backstage texts LMAO

"dude ___ is out sick and we don't know where the backup is kill me rn"

"HELP WHAT"

he secretly films and puts it on his tiktok/instagram

and he allows his fandom edit you LMAO

quietly sings along / lip syncs to the songs

he probably brought aryan and leah along for shits and giggles

and he sends you weird looks that you try your best to ignore 💀

he pounds through like 3 bags of popcorn no joke

he grabs you some cookies for after the show too

if you have to wear any makeup and you don't take it off after changing, he WILL be taking .5s of you

like a full face and you're wearing a baggy t-shirt and sweats 💀

he takes you to get dinner afterward and most likely some ice cream / milkshakes too

[melosliving]

aaron pierre & kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

"I know I’m not seeing your bare feet, girl. the interview is about to start ! What are you still doing in slippers ?" still sitting on your high chair you look up a bit, pausing the movements of your makeup brush only to meet Kelvin’s brown eyes in the mirror in front of you.

You quickly turned in your chair, placing one of your hands on his mouth to shut him up. Indeed, today was the first day of the long press tour for the new lion king movie (you played sarabi) and you were already over it. The whole studio was drowned in commotion, people running from a side to the another one to try to keep everything in order. Now, you were absolutely delighted and grateful about being part of the cast of this big movie, with incredible people, but the part where you had to look incredible all the time was probably the worst part for you. "Shush ! Caroline wants me to wear heels, you know how I feel about heels, kel."

a muffled "and ?" was heard as he tried to talk under your hand. You definitely wished to describe yourself as a high maintenance girly, but you couldn’t help but wanting to put it all to the side and be the low maintenance girl you truly were. Sometimes it was just too much. Just like right now : as much as your black fitted blazer looked tea on you, you couldn’t bring yourself to wear the heels Caroline, your stylist, wanted you to wear.

before you could even think of an answer to Kelvin’s question, what seemed to be aaron appeared in the mirror, looking at you two weird. "You’re not ready yet, lovie ? Where are your shoes ?" he asked, coming closer. "This lady right here doesn’t want to wear her heels. Can you believe this girl wants to do the interview barefooted ?" Kelvin answered before you could. You sigh. "Boo boo, you’re scared of hurting your little feet, my love ?" He teased.

You couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, but smiling still. Even if both of them acted like your big brothers, kelvin had always been the most teasing of the two, always trying to bicker with you on and off set. "You try walking in louboutin, in full fucking glam on a Thursday morning." You retorted, pointing towards the pretty pair of heels waiting for you under your chair. "I ain’t no Zendaya, so excuse me but these, are complete hell." Aaron looked at you with soft eyes, trying not to laugh at your antics. Each time you wouldn’t be happy with something, whether it be your outfit, the way you said a certain line, your makeup, you would pout. And here you were, starting to pout, like the childish person you were.

"C’mon, we’ll help you walk to the chair. It’s okay." The light skin man said, reaching for your heels and crouching down to put it on your pretty feet. That melted your heart, making you smile a bit. "I always knew mufasa was a better brother than taka." You said, clearly being petty. looking at Kelvin’s face, both aaron and you laughed at him. Then, with the help of Aaron’s hand you rose up to your feet, reaching out for Kelvin’s hand too and walked to the assigned chairs for the three of you.

"I know you did not say that though, you don’t mean that. Don’t let his pretty light skin face fool you." said kelvin, looking at aaron and you.

"Ay, you know better !" said aaron.

"you’re lucky you look incredibly beautiful, ❁. And you smell expensive. Damn, what’s your perfu…"

@ melosliving 2025

[psychicreadsgirl]

Pick a Novel: Keywords/prominent themes in your life

Pick the novel that draws your attention the most. If you can't decide between two, then look at the 2 readings. This is a general reading, so not everything will apply. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind!

#1

Keywords: love, lust, passion, fun, temperament, cafe, sweet, bicycle, pen, books, music, loyalty, winter, sofa, furniture, thoughts, light, intuition, soulmate, art, obsidian, cake, carbonated water, skincare, socks, cooking

Celebrities/Public Figures: Audrey Hepburn, Min Yoongi, IU, Claude Monet, Angela Merkel, Andrew Carnegie, John Johnson, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page, Howard Schultz, Sam Walton, Amancio Ortega, Queen Elizabeth I, Jane Austen, Jennie Kim

Countries: Italy, Canada, South Africa, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Greece, Madagascar, Qatar, Sweden, Zambia, Taiwan, Solomon Islands

Numbers: 11, 1, 5, 9, 80, 888, 6

Brands: Hermes, Tiffany, Apple, Instagram, Taobao, Lamborghini, Deloitte, Microsoft, Chopard, Givenchy, Patek Phillipe, Chloe, Alaia, Kraft,

Kpop songs: Young Forever by BTS, Shine by PENTAGON, Me Gustas Tu by GFRIEND, Run to You by DJ DOC, Love Lee by AKMU, Deja vu by TXT, Back Down by P1Harmony, Love shot by EXO

#2

Keywords: economy, job loss, new opportunities, play, drama, anger, frustration, lost, compass, computers, battery, feet, head, brain, summer, pearl, avocado, junk food, fried chicken, challenge, frugal

Celebrities/Public Figures: Grace Kelly, Billie Eilish, Keanu Reeves, Rosé, Jung Hoseok, Salma Hayek, Pablo Picasso, Princess Diana, Thomas Edison, Sergey Brin, Mary I, William Shakespeare, Lee Nayeon

Countries: New Zealand, USA, Maldives, Indonesia, United Kingdom, Venezuela, Lithuania, Nepal, Portugal, Poland, Lebanon, Mali, Netherlands

Numbers: 4, 99, 101, 33, 13, 14, 0

Brands: Masion Margiela, Amazon, facebook, Shein, PWC, Missoni, Moschino Couture, Toyota, citi bank, Chaumet, Polene, Pizza Hut,

Kpop songs: Love Dive by IVE, Shangri-la by VIXX, Sweety by Clazziquai, I NEED U by BTS, The Chaser by Infinite, Magnetic by ILLIT, My House by 2PM, ICY by ITZY

#3

Keywords: tales, gossip, lies, funny, movies, theatre, cell phone, cool, kpop, magenta, ancient, history, claws, cats, tiger, fall, jealousy, games, aquamarine, lemons, makeup, pencil, groceries

Celebrities/Public Figures: Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Morgan Freeman, Kim Seokjin, Jang Wonyoung, Matt Damon, Napoleon Bonaparte, Shinzo Abe, Steve Jobs, Voltaire, Kim Jisoo,

Countries: Ethiopia, France, Russia, Ireland, Argentina, Afghanistan, Libya, Rwanda, Nigeria, Pakistan, Morocco, Malta, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Iraq,

Numbers: 2, 7, 69, 25, 55, 79, 1182

Brands: Saint Laurent, miumiu, Starbucks, Mercedez-Benz, Nestle, Oracle, Tod's, Bulgari, Rolex, KFC, SUBWAY, Carrefour, Kellog's

Kpop songs: Supernova by aespa, Maestro by seventeen, Not by the moon by GOT7, Alone by Sistar, Hip by MAMAMOO, Good Day by IU, Bite Me by ENHYPEN, Work by ATEEZ, The Feels by TWICE

#4

Keywords: foreign, spicy, peppery, rice, no, objection, resistance, control, storms, thunderstorms, shower, tension, crush, pop, paper, mango, legs, fragrance, emerald, clothing rack, tomatoes, defeat,

Celebrities/Public Figures: Judy Garland, Margot Robbie, G-Dragon, Jeon Jungkook, Pharrell Williams, Emmanuel Macron, Bill Clinton, King Charles, Warren Buffet, Cleopatra, Kim Mingyu

Countries: South Korea, Philippines, Scotland, Spain, Albania, Guatemala, Malaysia, Iran, Romania, Honduras, Georgia, Croatia, Belgium, Czech Republic, Gambia, Guinea

Numbers: 31, 75, 412, 43, 486, 640

Brands: Chanel, Prada, Bentley, Gucci, Samsung, Disney, BMW, Hyundai, cisco, Van Cleefs & Arpels, Dior, Loro Piana, Shake Shack

Kpop songs: Gee by SNSD, If you by BIGBANG, Antifragile by LE SSERAFIM, Up and Down by EXID, OMG by NewJeans, Lion by (G)I-DLE, Hello by TREASURE,

#5

Keywords: death, mystery, mirror, reflection, shadow, black, grey, white, funeral, video, sprint, pool, gym, streets, metro, subway, chocolate, broken, knees, moon, ruby, surgery, teeth, race

Celebrities/Public Figures: Marilyn Monroe, Barack Obama, Kate Winslet, Kim Taehyung, Aamir Khan, Marie Antoinette, Elon Musk, Robert F Kennedy, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Edward VIII, Charles Dickens, Abraham Lincoln, Park Bogum,

Countries: North Korea, China, Vietnam, Brazil, Bangladesh, Cambodia, Germany, India, Israel, Laos, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Congo, Cuba, Egypt, Mongolia

Numbers: 3, 97, 17, 19, 52, 98

Brands: Ralph Lauren, Celine, Ferrari, Huawei, Uber, intel, UPS, Calvin Klein, Piaget, Guerlain, Berluti, Pepsi, Cadbury

Kpop songs: Shut down by Blackpink, Seven by Jeon Jungkook, God's Menu by Stray Kids, Love Love Love by Epik High, Very Nice by SEVENTEEN, Birthday by Jeon Somi, Psycho by Red Velvet,

#6

Keywords: travel, toxic, break away, departure, memory, dreams, truth, unveil, diary, journal, coffee, jacket, shoes, hands, social media, news, competition, autumn, diamonds, electricity, TV, cheat, fashion

Celebrities/Public Figures: Jane Birkin, Kim Jiwon, Gigi Hadid, Charlize Theron, Park Jimin, Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, Maximilien Robespierre, Bill Gates, Queen Elizabeth II, Vladimir Putin, Henry Ford, James Joyce, Lalisa Manobal

Countries: Japan, Australia, Mexico, Iceland, Finland, Eritrea, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cyprus, Bolivia, Botswana, Bahamas,

Numbers: 8, 646, 152, 37, 49, 22

Brands: Louis Vuitton, Lexus, Tesla, Fendi, Walmart, Nike, Siemens, Google, Cartier, Burberry, Ferragamo, Burger King, Unilever

Kpop songs: ROCKSTAR by LISA, Cherry bomb by NCT 127, Move by Taemin, Dramarama by MONSTA X, Love Scenario by iKON, Get a Guitar by RIIZE, Replay by SHINee, Candy Sugar Pop by ASTRO, Mr. Simple by Super Junior

[twistedwonderworm]

May I request maybe the dorm leaders when their S/o leaves a lipstick mark on them after a make out season. When asked about it the S/o responds with something like “I wanted to mark what’s mine”

-❤️‍🔥 anon

Of course you can anon!!! I hope you enjoy this!!!!

Headcanons: When you "mark what's yours"

Pairing: Dorm leaders (separately) x GN!reader (Reader wears lipstick)

Riddle Rosehearts

His face goes entirely red when he hears you say that. He may need a moment to pull himself together.

He likes the idea of being yours and you marking him as yours in such a way, but he still scolds you all the same. He’s a housewarden after all, and has a reputation to uphold.

It would give off the wrong impression if people saw a lipstick mark on him. But that doesn’t mean he’s against it. He’ll absolutely let you leave lipstick marks in less obvious places, like his lower neck and shoulders where his clothes hide them from view.

Leona Kingscholar

It makes him grin. Of course, he’l act like it doesn’t bother him either way, but it makes him happy to know that you want to mark him as yours. Maybe you’ll let him mark you as well? It just won’t be with lipstick since he doesn’t wear it.

He doesn’t care who sees the marks as he’s going along with his day. Ruggie tries to bring it to his attention, thinking Leona hasn’t realized it but the lion beastman just waves him off.

He’ll let you mark as visibly as you want whenever, and he proudly shows it off in his own lazy way. If people start talking, let them talk. He doesn’t worry about a little bit of gossip.

Azul Ashengrotto

Another one who will go entirely red and basically shut down for a few minutes after he realizes it. It takes him a shorter amount of time to calm down than it takes Riddle.

He still scolds you but less harshly since he does have a reputation to uphold but it is still makeup that can be cleaned. He won't be as startled about it as Riddle is but nowhere near as lax as Leona.

Though he will let you mark him up with lipstick later. With his insecurities, it feels nice to belong to someone and marked as theirs.

Kalim Al-Asim

Doesn't mind one bit. Want to mark him as yours with your lipstick covered lips? No problem! He doesn't mind a little bit of lipstick on his skin. He would absolutely love to show everyone that he's yours.

Jamil would probably have an aneurysm though. With Kalim's status, he knows how his reputation will change if people see him like that. So he takes it upon himself to make sure it gets cleaned off.

Kalim is sad about it but as he knows Jamil is right, there's not much he can say. But he does let you nark him up in less visible places.

Vil Schoenheit

Absolutely not! Do you know who he is? He loves you with all his heart, dear, but he can't go walking around with visible lipstick marks on him.

He may like how it looks on his skin, but he won't tell you that since he doesn't want to tempt you.

He would rather mark you, if you will let him. His lipstick is high end so who knows? it might look better on you.

Idia Shroud

The king of freezing up and shutting down. He doesn't know how to react. Did this really happen to him?? Him of all people?

That pale face is immediately going to be a deep shade of red immediately. He’s still surprised you wanted to be in a relationship with him, so you wanting to ‘mark’ him will probably take some time to get used to.

But once he warms up to it, he won’t mind if you leave a bit of lipstick on him after your makeout sessions.

Malleus Draconia

He would be… confused. You marked him as 'yours' with a lipstick mark? You humans definitely have strange courting rituals.

After you explain it to him however, he'll be pleased. It'll absolutely piss Sebek off at seeing Malleus bearing such an unsightly mark, but it's not like he can, it would, argue with Malleus.

Beware, leaving lipstick on Malleus after a makeout session and saying it’s to mark him as yours is akin to a marriage proposal in his mind. So now you’ll have to deal with a very clingy but very happy dragon.

[sixxrock666]

Lovie, that platonic Mötley Crüe was absolutely amazing, thank you for taking the time to do it. <33. I’m definitely going to have to ask for more though. I also feel like if one of them were being chased by mick, they would sacrifice reader by holding them up like the scene from the lion king, y’know? Like this. Thank you, love <33

stop you’re so sweet ;)) the lion king reference😭 literally they would sacrifice the reader to save their asses

hope you’ll like it hun tried my best<333

Part 3

• they would definitely sacrifice you when Mick would get pissed because they knew he’d go soft on you…when you all do piss him off it turns into a hell house, like just straight up screaming and throwing stuff and running around

• for your birthday they’d for sure throw a big party, and you’d get such random gifts like Tommy would get you a random pair of boxers with cats on it and Nikki a spatula or some shit (╥_╥)… i think Vince and Mick might actually put some thought into it

•…teaching the boys to make brownies at one am because Vince was craving them. Of course you all ended up making weed brownies (￣^￣)ゞ

• if you’d get caught with another man and the photos would made it to some kind of magazine i feel like the boys would juts sit you down in front of them and would be like “what’s this young lady?” Not them playing the role of good protective mothers (¬_¬)

…would probably tease you about it later tho

• they would steal your clothes let’s be real

“Vince are those my fucking leather pants”

“They make my ass look better sweets”

•nicknames for u>>

★ Tommy would be cheesy of course, calling you bestie or some long lasting friendship bullshit

★ Vince would call you sweets

★ Mick would call you a little devil or something

“speak of the devil”

especially when you’d be hanging around Tommy and Nikki…it was never a good combination the three of you since shit always went down

★Nikki would call you whatever he felt like it on a particular day, sometimes just your name or maybe rockstar, kitty? etc.

• Nikki would ask you to do his makeup

• if you’d get nervous before the concert they would try to take your mind off by cracking jokes…they were never funny but that was the charming part honestly

• you and Mick would usually stay a little longer in the studio making up some guitar riffs, laughing all the time and sharing a joint

• you’d buy them deodorant for Christmas at some point…

• when Nikki would feel like he could trust you enough he’d share about his childhood, not intentionally only if you’d ask, and you’d rub his back through it

• Mick would definitely confide in you about his back pain sometimes :( you’d then baby him and take care of him…he wasn’t the biggest fan of it but he let you…he knew you cared about him and only wanted what’s best for him

• regular trips to the record store with the boys, just listening to music and picking out records to add to your collection

☆彡𐬿𐮚✧★𐬺

[spidercoris]

ben headconons maybe😞?

ooh this one might be hard i don’t have that many for him. lets see…

ben headcanons 🎶

- ladybugs are his favorite type of bug (took this from canvas)

- he dislikes going underwater, something about not being able to breath kinda brings back some… bad memories…

- whenever taylor sings, he has this feeling of dread but also a feeling of happiness? like he’s glad other people get to experience what he couldn’t but at the same time… there’s people experiencing things that he COULDNT.

- he would love to see a broadway show. specifically the lion king i don’t know why.

- he does origami as a way to calm him down. he’s pretty good at it and almost always gets it right the first time. if not he might get a big agitated and crumple the paper and throw it away

- if he shares his earbuds with you, consider yourself to be really close to him. it’s like his sign of friendship and it says “yeah i’m comfortable with you, let’s listen to music together :)”

- he’s a good artist and tends to draw pretty things he sees. i’m a benlor fan so i like to imagine he does little sketches of taylor in his notebook. he also likes drawing butterflies (and ladybugs for obvious reasons)

- he LOVES ghibli movies. something about them reallr calms him. he watched in both sub and dub cause he has no preference

- has been dressed up as a princess before playing dress up with lily? most definitely. and she put the most horrid makeup on him too (aiden has pictures)

annddddd that’s all i got :3

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Start Of The Take Me Home Tour

2013

Part 29

23rd February- London O2

“I got this, everything will be fine” I say to myself in the mirror while my hairstylist/makeup artist Erin is putting my hair half up after spending the last few hours doing my hair and makeup

“Of course you’ve got this. Your going to be fine”

“It’s just the last time I was on tour Alex…”

“I know, but he would want you to carry on doing what you love. He’s here with you, I can feel it” Erin says finishing up “and we are done” just in time as well as there’s a knock on my dressing room door. Charlotte walks in with my clothes rack

“Time to get dressed, 5SOS have just gotten off stage”

“Ok thanks” I give myself one more look in the mirror, take a deep breath and let it out “everything’s going to be fine” I say one more time to myself before taking my pill and washing it down with some water. I take my first outfit from Charlotte and get dressed, meeting up with the boys back stage

“5 minutes” I hear a stage manager yell

“Alright?” Harry asks

“Hmhm” I nod smiling, but I’m honestly so nervous, more than I was during our first tour.

Soon enough I hear the intro to the tour and hundreds of screams. The start of Up All Night begins and we walk on stage. Annoyingly my inears aren’t working so I have to take on out so I can actually hear Harry before the chorus. I notice Louis also doesn’t have his in so while Zayn is singing both Louis and I quickly run off stage to see if the techs can fix the issue.

“Hello!” Harry shouts into his Microphone “we are One Direction and it’s and absolute pleasure to play for you today” as Harry talks Zayn hands me a water bottle “thank you so much f’being here”

“Thanks” I say to Zayn opening up the bottle and taking a sip of water

“We can see everyone!” I hear Harry shout

“Want to say that any louder?” I say to Harry

“Oh shush” Harry sticks his tongue out at me so I stick mine out back

“So mature” Zayn says shaking his head “so the next song we’re going to do, I’m not sure if any of you know it, it’s called One Thing”

“Come on O2. I tried playing cool….” Liam starts while Harry and I are dancing stupidly making Zayn laugh

“Shot me out of the sky. You’re my kryptonie. You keep making me weak, yeah frozen and can’t breathe” 

“Somethings gotta give now, cause I’m dying just make you see that need you here now cause” I point to the audience who shout ‘you’ve got that one thing’

“Let’s here you O2!” Liam shouts.

“Everyone having a good time?” Niall asks “good stuff. Right the next part of the show is the most important part of a One Direction show. Let’s look at Twitter. Ok so we’ve taken in some of your questions and we’re gonna answer them here and now in the O2 Arena”

“Where’s cookie? YN I think this one’s for you” Zayn says. The boys all look at me waiting for an answer

“She’s with my friend Emma while where on tour. When we’re in Birmingham I’ll get to see her” I reply to the question

“Ok this one’s for me. What’s your favourite song to play on the guitar?” Niall reads “I think it’s a remix of what makes you beautiful and I’m sexy and I know it”

“Which Disney movie do you prefer?” Liam reads of

“YN will watch any” Harry laughs

“Hey I have a favourite”

“Don’t we know it Nants ingonyama bagithi baba” Niall sings

“And is Cookie is in the building you know she’s getting lifted up”

“Ok well what about you boys?” I ask

“There’s a few classics aren’t there, but I think I’ll have to go with the Lion King as well” Louis says

“Yes!” I run over to him and give him a high five

“Zayn I know your a man who likes cartoons. Talk to me” Liam says

“Tarzan”

“Good choice. Harry?”

“Is Dumbo Disney?”

“Is dumbo Disney?” I scoff “yes of course it’s Disney”

“You do fancy the little Mermaid though don’t you?” Liam teases

“I think it’s your turn” Harry dodged the question

“Mines more of a Pixar movie. It’s toy story” we finish up the Twitter section and continue on with the concert.

By the end of the night we are all exhausted. I get dressed in a pare of sweats and a jumper. I take out my contacts and place my glasses on. I grab my stuff and head out of my dressing room and knock on the boys’ door which opens in no time

“So that’s where my hoodie went” Harry says letting me in

“Oops” I shrug

“Are they my sweats?” Louis asks

“Maybe” I shrug again. Louis raises his eyebrows at me “ok fine but they’re more comfortable”

“Well now we know what to buy you for your birthday” Niall jokes.

[everything-redacted00]

Some random redacted head canons

————

Geordi wears hearing aids and looses them frequently

Guy does this thing where every Saturday he will have a bubble bath and wear face masks and just have a whole spa day, and sometimes he convinces Honey to do it with him

David’s tickle spot is right under his rib cage and one day while him and Angel where cuddling they accidentally poked it and he giggled so now whenever they get the chance they’ll start poking under his rib cage just to get a reaction

Darlin likes to shift while laying on the windowsill and they’ll take naps there and then when they wake up they’ll cuddle sam while shifted cause there fur is all warm from the sun

Doc has a cat named skrunkly and Hush likes to follow it around

Lovely does not have a drivers license

Gavin has a dumpy

a lot of the Shaw pack as teens had a crush on darlin

Damien loves to bake and when Huxley found out he bought a bunch of ingredients and they had a fun time just baking together and talking about life and stuff

Darlin still beats themselves up for getting with Quinn till this day

Lasko spilled a cup of coffee in an Uber once and was so embarrassed, he tried to clean it up but it just made it worse

David has ridiculously long eyelashes and angel is jealous

Baabe does Asher’s makeup when they’re bored

Huxley collects cool looking rocks he finds

Hush has long black hair and sometimes Doc plays with it and puts it in braids, buns, etc.. (someone pls draw this I beg of u)

Honey is 6 foot and Guy is only 5’4 so he looks tiny compared to them

Darlin has thick thighs, Asher has nicknamed them “Sam’s earmuffs”

Lovely dances outside during thunderstorms to remember their powers

Sam likes to kiss the scars on Darlin’s body

Vincent has curly black hair

One time Angel caught David listening too Ariana Grande

Milo and Darlin used to watch horror movies as teens to see who would chicken out first

Sweetheart smokes when they’re stressed enough

Milo is really hot (fact.)

Gabe was a dilf (confirmed, I saw him)

Lasko’s first crush as a kid was Nala from the lion king

one time Coworker saw one of those TikTok’s that was like “if you need to get over him think of ___” and one of the things it said was “imagine him tripping and falling while trying to catch the bus” and they scrolled and said “eh he’d do that anyway” and Lasko was sitting right there

Freelancer sometimes sneaks into one of the boys apartments and steals their snacks

Angel isn’t short or skinny David is just huge (I will stand on this hill until the day I die)

Darlin and David are roughly around the same size and height

Vincent used to blast lil peep in his room when he was a newborn vamp (my lil emo baby🫶)

Damien doesn’t like alcohol

Both smartass and Darlin call their partners “old man” (lovingly)

Gavin listens to corpse when he cleans the house and he jams out to it

————

this has gotten too long lol

[xbadgerbearx]

chapter seven: cutting ties

word count: 2.4k

Redlight: ... [6]

note: this was a lot of fun to make, and the love/support makes me so happy! I hope everyone enjoyed this series as much as I did <3

Now it was time for phase two of his plan: kill Rana Singh

Queenie had called your cell phone late last night. While you were laying next to Devu, talking about his fight with Sher Khan and holding hands, your phone buzzed. 

“I don’t know where the hell you’ve been these past few days but you better have your ass here tomorrow,” Queenie growled into the phone. Putting the phone on speaker, you set the phone to where Devu could hear as well.

“Baba Shakti is celebrating at the King’s Club, which means that Chief Rana will be there to guard him. I need tomorrow to go perfectly, which means I need your ass in a red dress on his lap before dinner, you hear me?” Her voice was increasing in volume by the second. “Not the club dress, that one’s too distasteful. I need you in that one evening gown,” she explained calmly, her tone doing a 180. 

“Okay,” you assured, looking at Devu and forming a plan in your mind. “I’ll be there.”

“Great, see you then.” You could practically hear the smile through the phone. Devu went to speak but you hushed him, your mind racing as you thought of your plan.

It was relatively simple. When you went to the club, you would stash a knife in the kitchen so you could retrieve it before meeting with Rana. It would be hidden under your dress, along with a small firework explosive. Devu would break into the kitchen and make his way into the elevator. You tried to persuade him to take a quieter, more discreet route, but he wanted to make as much noise and destruction as possible. Once he made it into the lounge, you would set off your explosive at Rana while Devu fired his explosives into the air, causing as much chaos as possible. 

Rana Singh would die, and then you would be free. Both of you would be free. 

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

Making it into the kitchen, you grabbed the knife and took the elevator to the dressing rooms. Changing into an elegant red dress, with the knife and explosive hidden on your thigh, you did your makeup. Hands shaking, you had to take a deep breath to calm your nerves. You didn’t speak to anyone–not even Sita.

Soon the guests arrived and were escorted into the lounge. Rana saw you waiting patiently by the wall near across the elevator doors and joined you. 

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, voice deep and rich.

“Hey there yourself, handsome,” you purred, leaning closer to him. Making small talk, the guests sat themselves and a man took to the stage. “Is that…?” you asked quietly in fake astonishment. 

“Baba Shakti?” Rana finished. “Yeah, I’m guarding him tonight,” he smirked, eyes scanning over the entire room. He smiled handsomely. “So you can’t distract me too much tonight, hmm? Even though you’re simply to die for.” He made a point by grabbing a handful of your ass.

Gasping in surprise, you giggled. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man on the stage started. “What an honor it is to be here with the Sovereign Party on the cusp of our historic victory.” 

Rana immediately went to work and diligently scanned the crowd. 

“One day, the maharajas on these walls will be replaced with portraits of each and every one of you,” the speaker smiled, making the audience quietly laugh. “We will rid Mother India of her scars and make her beautiful once more. I would like to acknowledge the great contribution of a mighty chief of police, Rana Singh!” The crowd applauded him, and you did as well, along with giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “His courage and integrity has led to Yatana’s lowest crime rate.”

‘Devu should be making his way through the kitchen,’ you thought, still standing by Rana. 

“There is still one other person, without whose blessing, we would not be here. My guru. My mentor. His Holiness…Indian’s lion…Baba Shak-!”

A huge explosion from below you shook the walls and flickered the lights. The crowd gasped and murmured amongst themselves. Rana, now at full attention, began looking around the room for possible answers. 

Your hand slowly shifted down your thigh and through a hidden slit. Grabbing the explosive, you shifted behind Rana so he couldn’t see. There was a candle a few feet away from you. If only you could just…

The elevator doors opened with a ding! Devu’s explosive fireworks flew into the room and straight for Rana. Taking this as an opportunity, you lept towards the candle to light your own explosive while Rana shielded himself with his arm. Everyone rushed to the nearest exit, screaming, which left you a nice and clear target. 

With no warning, you lit the firework and watched as it exploded against Rana Singh. It caused his skin to open and welt, but if it hurt him he didn’t let it show. Devu was lighting his own fireworks and making impressive work out of Rana’s men. 

“You bitch!” Rana yelled, voice growling dangerously. He stalked towards you. Turning to run, he grabbed the hem of your dress, pulling you to the ground. Rolling out of the way of a punch, your hand quickly found the hidden knife in your dress, but unfortunately, Rana was able to pick you up and throw you back onto the floor. 

Groaning, you stumbled back and onto your feet in time to meet Rana’s fist, but you ducked just in time. Using the momentum, you sank your blade into his shoulder with a grunt of effort. 

Rana yelled in pain and pushed you away, back onto the floor. Grabbing the handle of the knife, he yanked out the blade and stalked towards you. Just as you stood up, his hand wrapped around your throat and constricted. Your scream attracted the attention of Devu, which Rana took note of. 

Instinctively, your own hands flew to paw and claw at Rana’s, but it was useless. Rana started to walk forwards, which made you instinctively want to walk backwards as to lessen the pressure on your neck. Your back hit the wall of the elevator room and the hand on your throat increased in pressure. 

Devu heard the elevator ding. Looking over, his eyes widened in dread as Rana Singh met his stare, his hand still choking you. 

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

Devu rushed after you as quickly as possible. Alpha and her warriors arrived, which let him focus his attention on you. However, Queenie arrived with a gun and almost shot him. Sita managed to strike a devastating blow against Queenie's head, killing her and allowing Devu to sever her thumb for later use. 

Devu tried to catch his breath during the elevator ride to the VIP lounge, but the thought of you in danger through that out the window. Hands clenching with blood, he readied himself to save you. 

When the doors to the VIP lounge slid open, he heard a wet gasping and several body blows. Throwing all caution to the wind, he sprinted inside to find you. Laying in a small puddle of blood, you gasped for air, crying. The knife you struck Rana with was now in your own shoulder, blood oozing out of the wound.

He’s seen this before, hasn’t he? Devu, paralyzed by the memory of his mother, looked at you in horror as the realization of the similarities set in. Immobilized by fear, Rana took advantage of his trap and struck Devu across the face, sending him to the ground next to you. Your bloody face with eyes peering into him would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Finally out of your tree, huh?” Rana mused. “Get up.” 

Devu groaned as he got up, giving you one more heartbroken glance before steadying himself for a fight. 

“Did your mother send you back for more?”

Devu dodged Rana’s heavy punches with incredible speed. They exchanged several blows, but Devu was fully prepared for this fight. He was able to knock Rana down briefly, but the chief of police shoved him through a glass display, temporarily halting Devu’s progress. 

“Get up, motherfucker!” Rana let Devu rise to his feet. “You son of a whore. What are you looking at?” Following his gaze, he saw that Devu was watching you slowly climb off the floor and rest your back against a tipped over table. The knife was out of your shoulder and rested loosely in your palm. 

Rana hummed and chuckled. “The son of a whore is in love with a whore. How romantic.”

Devu went feral. Yelling, he dodged another blow and kicked Rana in the thigh, stunning him slightly. Sizing each other up briefly, Devu glared at Rana with fire in his eyes before they each threw a punch, which landed on the other’s punch. Rana shook his hand to ease the pain as Devu just watched. 

It was over for Rana. Devu, now wild and reckless, attacked the man with full abandon. Rana got sent to the floor. Devu, panting, strolled to you and grabbed your shoe that had slipped off. He winked at you before striking Rana across the face with the heel. 

It was…terrifying to see Devu like this. He striked Rana again a few more times with the heel of your shoe before dropping it to the ground. Grabbing Rana by his hair, eyes crazed, he punched him again, sending him to the floor. 

“Get up,” Devu ordered. “Get up!” Rana groaned; he rolled onto his back as he wheezed for breath. 

You watched–eyes wide in horror–as Devu delivered blow after blow onto the man’s face, killing him with nothing but his fists. A large puddle of blood flowed out and away from his head, life slipping away with it.

As if suddenly remembering, he turned on his foot and dashed to you, yelling your name. He extended his hand rather quickly to help you up, but you flinched. Devu’s eyes widen and his brows knit together, realizing that you just watched him kill a man with his bare hands. His bloody hands shook as he displayed them, trying to relay that he was no harm.

“No, no-no-no-no!” he mumbled quickly. “It-it’s okay! It’s over. It’s done.” 

Breathing raggedly, you shifted against the wall but moaned in pain. Devu instantly came to your side, helping you stand and lean against him. The blood on his hands transferred to your skin. 

Devu helped you get into the elevator. His finger hovered over the lobby button, but you smacked his hand away with effort. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Penthouse,” you gasped. “Shakti’s there.”

“But you need-”

You shook your head. “I’m f-fine. I can wait.” Devu watched you, unsure. “Baba Shakti will get away if we don’t go now.” 

Devu, eyes still on you, slowly retrieved Queenie’s severed thumb from his pocket and used it to get into the penthouse. The blood on your hands made it difficult to keep the blade in your grasp.

“Welcome, Queenie.”

Devu maneuvered your arm to wrap around his shoulder for better stabilization. The elevator display screen image turned into a crown, signaling that you had made it to the penthouse. The doors opened to reveal Baba Shakti sitting across the wall, foot lazily splashing in the water below his seat. Devu and you slowly walked towards him, stopping beside the painting of Hanuman.  

“So you are the one?” Baba Shakti looked out the window and at the fireworks dancing across the sky. “Look at them all…Diwali. The triumph of light over darkness. The defeat of Ravana. But Ravana was no demon. He was a scholar. A visionary. He built an empire out of nothing.”

The man shook the water from his foot and grabbed his shoes before coming to a stop in front of you two. “Why not end this cycle of violence? Or we will be trapped in it for generations.”

“Do you even know my mother’s name?” Devu asked quietly. “Do you know any of their names?”

Baba Shakti rolled his eyes. “Anger will not quiet your soul, my son.”

“Don’t call me ‘son.’”

The man scoffed softly and tapped his wooden shoes together. “These were carved by a devout follower, who wore them to protect his feet from harming any small creature. On the side here, there’s an old prayer: ‘Forgive me, Mother Earth, for the sin of injury which I inflict with each step.’”

A helicopter slowly whirred outside, its beacon blinding you with its light.

“My chariot is here.”

Baba Shakti revealed a hidden blade from his shoe and stabbed Devu in the stomach. He gasped and gripped the hand that was twisting the blade further into his abdomen.

Quickly, you brought your blade over your head to stab the guru, but he was too quick. His second blade from his other shoe lodged itself into your chest. Screaming, you dropped the knife, landing it right onto his arm, the one that was still holding the blade. Baba Shakti shrieked and let go of both blades as fell backwards onto the ground, his good arm holding the wounded one.

Eyes suddenly becoming hazy, you slipped off of Devu’s shoulder and onto the ground. With your hand feeling the hole in your chest, you gasped raggedly as you kneeled on the floor. Blood seeped past your fingertips and onto the marble. 

Devu became overrun with anger and allowed his adrenaline to kick into overdrive. Yelling, he took the blade that was in his stomach and lunged for Baba Shakti. Sinking the weapon into his chest multiple times–the same place he stabbed you–he readied himself for the final blow.

Shakti gurgled, blood flowing past his lips. “You can’t,” he said weakly. “These people need me. Please, I’ll give you what you want.” He started to plead. “I’ll do anything. Forgive me! Ha-ha-have mercy, please!”

“Only God can forgive you now.”

Devu heaved the small blade above his head and stabbed it in the middle of Baba Shakti’s forehead, killing him instantly. Panting quietly, Devu stumbled to his feet and clutched his stomach. His eyes slowly panned over to you, and he screamed in agony. 

There you were–lying on the floor, hand to your chest, eyes staring into nothing. 

He didn’t bother to stifle the sob that escaped him. Crashing onto his knees, he gently picked up your head and let it rest in his lap. Bending down to kiss your forehead, tears raining onto your face, he placed a small kiss on your temple.

He did not get back up.

His body slumped over yours.

Three bodies entered the room that night. Not one made it back out.

taglist: @larascorneroftheworld @chaithetics

[silverspectre51]

DP: Dead Inside and Out

Amity Park, May 2008. Casper High graduation.

It had been an uneventful ceremony, made unique only by the school's odd mascot and the people themselves. Suddenly, as it neared a close, the lights went out and the large screens went to static. Just as quickly, the picture settled on three of the graduates, only they weren't wearing robes anymore.

Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Austin Kavanagh looked far different than they had as meager Freshmen. Of course, four years of bullying, ghost fights, and insufficient sleep will do that to you. Add on the rest of their trauma, and it was jarring to say the least.

Sam was dressed as darkly as she had ever been. Black leather, spikes, piercings, boots somehow even bigger than before. Her hair was longer, her makeup darker, and her expression a constant scowl. Her bass guitar was decked out to match.

Austin Kavanagh, once a genius technogeek, had joined his friends at the bottom of the class. He had always worn a black hoodie and shoes, but now his jeans were black too. Where once he was always seen in a bright yellow, Lion King shirt, he now wore a dull, gray, My Chemical Romance "Welcome to the Black Parade" tee. His dirty blond hair was chin length where it had once been close to a buzz, and a scruffy beard had started to grow. He proudly displayed a new silver ring as he sat behind a black drum set.

Danny was perhaps the biggest change of all. His big, blue eyes had dimmed, his hair was messy and shoulder-length, and he had grown a tidy, black chin beard. Blue jeans and red shoes were now black, as was the spiked, leather jacket he wore. His old NASA shirt now had a red circle with a line through it spray painted on. His nails were painted black, and he wore an even larger ring than his husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this will be the last-ever performance of The Rocking Dead!"

Everyone heard Danny's voice, but they were confused to say the least. This was the name of the town's resident superheroes-turned-rock band. Of ghost vigilantes- criminals- that the Guys in White had been pursuing for years. What did this mean?

"This one goes out to Dash and Paulina. Screw you."

The band launched into their newest song, MONSTERS. As the chorus started, they transformed into the aforementioned ghosts. However, these forms, too, had changed.

Phantom's suit was now kingly regalia, and the Drs. Fenton instantly recognized the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. Spectre's (Austin's) similar suit was similarly replaced, only in a more high-tech fashion. Lastly, Nightshade was now decked out in armor befitting her position as the new Fright Knight.

As the song continued, several images flashed on screen, each lasting for a short time. The first was an image of Vlad Masters, the town's mayor, which labeled him as a Froot Loop. The second outed his secret identity as Vlad Plasmius, drawing outrage from the Drs. Fenton. The third was an image of Sam's parents and the message "Ida was a better parent than either of you." The fourth was an image of Austin's parents and the message "Where is your God now?"

The last was a picture of Jazz Fenton winking and the message "World's Best Mom." She and Austin's sisters smiled as they watched safely from Phantom's Keep. The Drs. Fenton screamed hate and profanity, as expected. Finally, the song ended, and Danny spoke in a close-up. His eyes glowed red as he spoke not with anger, but disappointment.

"This message is being broadcast worldwide. I am Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms. Four years ago, the United States Government declared war on the dead. I tried diplomacy, but they insist that we are not sentient. That we are inherently evil."

"They are wrong. It is the living who are evil, consumed by greed, lust, and power. This is your first and final warning: war is coming. There is no hope, no mercy, and no surrender. Only fate."

"Prepare to be destroyed."

[erikahenningsen]

42 cadina?

42. “Stop being so cute.”

Regina's been inviting Cady to hang with her a lot.

Just Cady and Regina, no one else.

At first, Cady just thought Regina felt sorry for Cady when she and Aaron broke up, but she never tries to talk to Cady about it. Cady is glad she doesn't—it probably would be very awkward.

But even several weeks after the breakup, when Cady goes entire days without thinking about Aaron, Regina keeps texting Cady invites or even showing up at her house unannounced, buying her coffee or just-because little gifts, offering to do Cady's hair and makeup, giving her compliments, walking her down the hallways between classes.

Cady isn't thinking about Aaron. She is thinking about Regina. A lot.

It's all been very confusing.

It's a Saturday and they're in Regina's room. Cady is trying to convince Regina to watch The Lion King. (Yes, again, but they haven't watched it in two months! Cady thinks she's being reasonable.) It hasn't been the best week—she had a big calculus test and a ten-page paper for her AP Literature class, and she just wants to zone out with her favorite movie with her favorite person.

"No! Cady, come on." Regina tilts her head back and lets out an exasperated breath.

Regina looks pretty today. She looks pretty every day, but her hair looks extra shiny, and she's wearing a low-cut shirt that is not helping Cady keep her thoughts PG.

"Please? It's been so long," Cady says.

"I'm so tired of it," Regina says, like she's trying not to hurt Cady's feelings.

"I'll do something for you in exchange," Cady offers.

Regina rolls her eyes. "Normally I would be all over that, but it's not worth it."

"Please? For me?" Cady asks, clasping her hands under her chin and batting her eyelashes. "Please? Please please please?"

"No," Regina repeats. She pats Cady's cheek. "Now stop being so cute."

"Uh."

It's like someone pulls the plug on Cady's brain and she has to wait a moment for it to come back online. This seems to please Regina, who smirks at her. Something clicks into place.

"Um," Cady says, clearing her throat. "A point of clarification?"

Regina raises her eyebrows.

"Have you been flirting with me?" Cady can't meet Regina's eyes when she asks, just in case she's wrong.

"Yes, thank you for noticing," Regina says dryly, and Cady's head snaps up.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh." Cady's stomach flips over, and she wonders if Regina can hear how hard her heart is beating. The idea of Regina liking her is... exhilarating. She feels almost powerful.

"Well, in that case..." Cady sits down next to Regina on the bed, much closer than she would normally sit. She leans in close, close enough to feel Regina's breath come a little faster, to see her pupils dilate.

"Can we watch The Lion King?" Cady whispers.

Cady barely has time to blink before Regina pushes her, hard. Cady falls onto her back, and Regina leans over her. Her grin isn't friendly—it's predatory.

"No," Regina says simply, before her eyes start to drift down Cady's body.

Cady finds isn't sad about it.