#Watch out don't let him getcha

[asaemoryfanclub]

Keevan, my strange little freak (and I've dressed him as a cat)

I've tried to draw various different Vorta as cat adjacent for just......forever and I think these ones are classy enough without being crazy town (they're sick and twisted as they come though)

For the record he's Pink Panther and Gorbfeld respectively, cause they're oh so specialty 🤗🤗🤗

[ckret2]

Chapter 65 of human Bill Cipher still being stuck in the Mystery Shack but currently fearing back pain more than execution: it's Day 1 of Bill being off death row, let's see what everyone other than Soos is doing with their day.

When Fiddleford answered the door to Ford and Stan—Stan with the Quantum Destabilizer's case slung over his shoulder—the first thing Fiddleford said was, "That demon's still alive, isn't he?"

"Demon's still alive," Stan confirmed.

Ford let out a long sigh. "I was afraid we'd have to break the news."

"I figured when the power here flickered during your shot." He planted his hands on his hips. "You didn't use the NowUSeeitNowUDontium, did you?"

Ford shook his head.

"Well?" Fiddleford fixed Ford with an angry squint, lips pursed. (Maybe it wasn't an angry squint, Ford told himself hopefully. Maybe it was just because Fiddleford didn't have new glasses yet.) "Why didn'cha shoot him?"

"I couldn't. He escaped," Ford said. As panic began to bloom on Fiddleford's face, Ford quickly added, "But he's back! That's why I used the wrong fuel. Somehow he overheard that we'd made enough Dontium for one shot, and he—tried to persuade me to cover his escape. Firing a blank made him think I'd used the Dontium up and he was safe—"

"—So's he'd come back and you could get a proper shot at him! Ha!" Fiddleford jumped up, kicking his heels in the air, hollering, "Stanford Pines, you clever sonovagun!" His hooting and hollering died down as he realized, "So... why're you here with the destabilizer instead of shooting him?"

Ford and Stan exchanged a glance. Stan said, "Well—He—He's pretty harmless right now, really—And he's great with the kids—"

"Not with Dipper," Ford muttered.

"He's great with one of the kids."

Ford said, "And he's..." It would be a lie to say improving, wouldn't it? "He's... got the potential to improve. And we— We thought— If there's a chance he could do better..."

Sternly, Fiddleford said, "You let him get into your head again, didn't you."

Ford sighed. "I let him get into my head."

Stan held out the Quantum Destabilizer's case. "Which is why we're here. He's not in your head. You won't hesitate to pull the trigger."

"I getcha." Fiddleford accepted the case grimly. "You need me to finish the job."

Ford hastily added, "If—if it becomes necessary."

Fiddleford gave him a hard look.

Ford swallowed as he realized—as always, a moment too late—just what an enormous thing he was asking of Fiddleford and his fragile nerves. "But if you don't think— I mean, if you'd rather it stay in our hands—"

Fiddleford held the Quantum Destabilizer away from Ford. "No, no—you're right. It's safer here," he said. "You oughta shoot him. I'm never not gonna think you oughta shoot him. Especially now we know he knows how to escape. But, if you won't—better that this is in my hands than with the fellers what let that devil sucker 'em into thinking he deserves to live."

Ford wanted to say I'm sorry. If he was so sorry, why had he chosen to let Bill live? It seemed like his problems always became Fiddleford's problems—yet the only times Fiddleford's problems became Ford's was when Ford caused them. "Well—the good news is, even if he does escape, he can't get far. He's trapped inside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier."

"Well, that's somethin'," Fiddleford muttered. Then he frowned and gave Ford a sharp look. "Wait," he said slowly. "Are you sure he can't get out?"

"I—" Ford tried to remember when they'd learned that. "Sure, we—found out that first night, didn't we?" It had been a very long night.

"Yeah!" Stan laughed. "Almost accidentally killed the guy by driving him into it."

Fiddleford nodded, his expression faraway and thoughtful. "I need to run some calculations," he said. "I'll let you know what I find."

He turned away, muttering to himself. Just before he shut the door, Ford saw Tate at the far end of the great hall, arms crossed, watching the proceedings sourly.

And then the door was shut without so much as a goodbye.

"Huh," Stan said. "Ominous!" He clapped Ford on the shoulder. "Welp, let's get home!"

####

Tate leaned into Fiddleford's lab. "Dad?"

Fiddleford was sitting at a space he'd cleared at a worktable, hunched forward and squinting to see his work as he ran through a towering stack of calculations, using a calculator to double-check his math and a second calculator to double-check the first one. As he often did, he'd put on an old record to help block out distractions; and an old country song was blasting at top volume as Fiddleford sang/yodeled along: "I haaate Bill Cipher more'n I looove my son! How I looong to shoot that sonuuuvaguuun. I'll seeee my boy when that triaaangle's done—cuz I haaate Bill Cipher more'n I looove my son—"

"Dad," Tate said louder.

"Tater!" Fiddleford sat up, automatically reached to adjust a pair of glasses he wasn't wearing, and just bumped the bridge of his nose. "What is it, son?"

"Couldja turn the volume down?"

"Turn th—?" Fiddleford looked at his record player, started when he realized what was playing, and quickly took the needle off the record. "Sorry, Tater, I—"

"It's fine," Tate said glumly.

"Didn't even realize which song'd come on. They're just words to sing along to. You know I don't really feel..."

"Just don't like Pluckin' Jim's yodeling style, that's all."

Fiddleford dropped his gaze. "All right, that's fine. I'll keep it down."

Tate stuck his hands in his pockets. "Might oughta be careful with that album, anyway. If any guests overhear it talking about the triangle and call the police..."

"Oh, I know, I know. You're right, I'll be careful. It's just..." He reached under his hat to scratch at his head like he was trying to massage his brain into working. "When it feels like the whole darn world's gone crazy, it's comforting hearin' somebody sing something sensible," he said. "I—I don't mean Jim's attitude toward his family. Just the rest of it."

"Mm." Tate nodded.

Fiddleford sighed and shook his head sadly. "I don't know—maybe I'm the one who's going crazy."

"Naw," Tate said immediately. "You're not. You're the sanest I've seen you since I was a kid, dad."

"Well—thank you, Tater. That means a lot."

"You're just stressed, that's all." Tate nodded toward Fiddleford's stack of calculations. "Don't overwork yourself, all right?"

"I won't, I promise."

"If you need help with all that math..."

"No, no, that's all right." Fiddleford waved off the offer. "It's got to do with Stanford's weirdness thingamajig." For the past few months, Fiddleford and Stanford had been working on a paper about the Law of Weirdness Magnetism—although that had seemingly ground to a stop at the start of summer.

Tate paused. "Okay, but I'm dragging you out of there for meals."

"Heh! I won't fight you."

As Tate left, Fiddleford set the needle back on the record, starting the next song: "The Three B's Poisoning Your Children (Booze, Bebop, and Bill)." Tate shut the door and let out a long sigh.

####

"I'll get it!" Dipper doubted anyone else could even hear the phone; Abuelita was asleep in the living room, Soos was upstairs hammering on something, and Bill and Mabel were at the far end of the house playing the piano and singing.

Dipper jogged into the office. "Hello?"

"Dipper!" Wendy said. "Dude! Just the man I wanted to reach."

"Wendy, hey! What's up?"

"Are you still looking for the Nightwigglers?"

"Yes! Why, did something happen?"

A couple weeks earlier, Wendy had shown him where her brother had seen the Fremont Nightwigglers; but by the time she showed him the path, they'd already come and gone a couple nights earlier. They'd found footprints and followed them to what looked like a campsite—there were odd empty burrows in the ground and traces of ashes—but when Dipper had tried to figure out where they'd gone after leaving the campsite, he'd lost their trail in the underbrush.

"Gus says he saw them on the same trail again last night," Wendy said. "Which means, if they were going back to that place we found with the burrows, and it was a campsite—"

"—then that's where they're camping today. So they'll still be there tonight!" Dipper laughed. "That's perfect! I can stake them out and watch when they wake up! Hey, do you wanna come along for a stakeout?"

Wendy groaned. "I wish. Gus freaked my dad out talking about the Nightwigglers. He says we have to stay home after dark and he's actually been checking our rooms."

"Aw, man. That stinks."

"But hey, tell me all about it at work, okay?"

"You got it! Oh—I could make a Guide to the Unexplained episode! I'll show you the whole thing."

"Oh, awesome. I can't wait to see these things," Wendy said. "Head's up, you probably wanna be quiet to avoid spooking them. Gus said they looked super skittish last night. They're probably wigging out because of gravity disappearing for a couple of days, lots of other wild animals are. I don't blame them, I'm still wondering what was up with that."

"Giant invisible flying axolotl from another dimension."

Wendy laughed in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah! I'll tell you about it at work too." Probably leaving out Bill's involvement. Speaking of Bill, where had he left Dipper's backpack? "I've gotta pack for the stakeout. Thanks for the tip!"

####

Gideon knocked on the shack's back door and waited anxiously, tugging at his sleeves and shifting from foot to foot.

The door opened to the sound of distant piano music. Dipper stood there holding a heavy backpack and a box of granola bars. "Gideon?" He didn't sound thrilled.

"Well, hey there, Dipper!" Gideon tried to sound more chipper than he felt. "I don't suppose Mabel's ar—"

"Nope," Dipper said. "What do you want?"

Gideon took a deep breath. "It's about Bill—"

"Shhh!" Dipper cast a nervous glance back toward Soos's grandma asleep in the living room. "Keep it down. Only Mabel and I know you know about Bill and no one else can find out."

"Why not?"

"Because... Mabel and I will get in trouble for not telling them sooner?"

Fair enough. Adults didn't need to know everything, Gideon thought. Voice lower, he said, "I didn't notice him with the others at Rainbow Club this week, and I saw that big laser thingamabob at the shack,"—and the next day received a panicked call from a cultist who couldn't reach Bill—"and... well—I need to know if Bill's dead, or—"

Over the piano playing, an off-key voice sang at top volume: "AND IIIIIIIIII will never HATE yooOoOOou—!" In the living room, Abuelita started from her nap, blinked sleepily, turned up the volume on the TV, and fell back asleep.

Gideon's shoulders sank in disappointment.

"Still alive," Dipper said. "He has a really bad backache, though."

"Well, dang it!" Gideon kicked at a twig on the porch. It didn't move.

"Yeah, I know," Dipper said. "But... I kinda think Bill has to stay alive? I heard this prophecy that I think is about Bill saving everyone? Probably not voluntarily—he actually really didn't want me to hear about the prophecy—so... yeah, we might just be stuck with him. At least for a while."

"Well," Gideon said sourly. "Isn't that just wonderful."

####

As he trudged home, Gideon tried to think of a way out of this. For one day, he'd thought he was blessedly free of Bill; finding out he was wrong felt like getting hauled back to prison.

If the adults didn't know he knew about Bill, maybe he could tell the Stans that Bill had been using him—surely they'd forgive Gideon for using a little dream magic to brainwash the town, right? Stan understood the lengths a businessman had to go to to advertise his business, and Ford was apparently the one who'd recorded the spell in the first place—and maybe the two of them could prevent Bill from spilling his blackmail to the rest of the town; or maybe Gideon could arrange for the Stans to "accidentally" find out Gideon had been working for Bill, and then Bill couldn't blame Gideon for spilling the beans...

Or maybe he could just stop helping Bill. Simple as that. He knew he'd been helping Bill arrange escape plans. Bill had promised he'd keep quiet about Gideon's crimes as long as Gideon didn't pick up dream magic again; but he'd never required Gideon to help him. The only issue was what his contact in Bill's cult might do and whether she might out him as one of Bill's allies; maybe he could just tell her that his parents were getting suspicious and he couldn't be a go-between anymore...

When he got home, as soon as he opened the front door he could hear his father excitedly talking in the kitchen: "It's the darnedest thing! I don't know where they came from—must be tourists, I suppose..."

Gideon followed his voice into the kitchen. "Daddy? What's all this fuss?"

Bud was grinning from ear to ear; even Joy was faintly smiling, a half-washed dish forgotten in her yellow-gloved hands. "There you are," Bud said. "Son, I've got the most terrific news! I just sold the three most expensive cars on the lot, all on the same day! Can you believe that?!"

"Well, hot dog!" Gideon grinned as well, relief washing over him. "That oughta keep us going for a while, shouldn't it?"

"It sure will! I guess you were right—we never needed any magic hocus-pocus, just good salesmanship!" Bud beamed. "But it's just the darnedest thing," he said again, "they all said they'd been referred to the dealership by a Mr. Locke."

Gideon's smile froze and his stomach flipped.

"I don't remember any Mr. Locke passing through town."

"Oh," Joy said, "there was one a—a week or two ago. Some sort of talent agent, I think? He came to see Gideon."

"Did he," Bud said, clearly a bit deflated that it wasn't his prowess as a salesman that had lured these customers to town; but he quickly recovered, "Why, that's wonderful! Maybe looking to line up another television appearance?"

"No no no," Gideon said quickly, "no, it was—it was purely a social visit. I-I knew him last summer. I'm not doing that sort of... television thing anymore."

"Ah, well. Still! Having connections pays off," Bud said. "If all he wants to do is send customers our way, I'll be mighty happy! If he comes by again, invite him to stay for dinner, it's the least we can offer him as thanks."

"I think that's a—a wonderful idea," Joy said, voice even softer than usual. "He was very friendly."

"Son?" Bud called. "Where you headed?"

"Just upstairs, I remembered I need to make a call," Gideon said. He had to ensure Sue knew Bill was alive.

Seemed like he'd be working with her and Bill for a while yet. His family couldn't afford for him not to.

####

Dipper pounced the Stans the moment they entered the shack. "Hey! Great Uncle Ford!" 

"Dipper? What—"

"Grunkle Ford, remember you promised that as soon as we weren't dealing with any Bill bull, we could go on an investigation—?"

"Hey," Stan said sternly, "any Bill what?"

"Bull... soup?" Dipper tried.

Stan nodded, satisfied. "That's right. And if your parents ask, that's exactly what you think it means." At Ford's look of amazement, Stan said, "What! Last year the kids' parents said if they came home swearing, I couldn't take 'em over the summer again."

Dipper resumed his attack: "Well, we're not dealing with any Bill bullsoup today! Come help me track the Nightwigglers!" He held up his journal, proudly showing off his unfinished spread. "Wendy told me where they're camping today! If we're there before they wake up, we can finally see them in person!"

"Really? Tonight?" Ford asked. "We just had a late night yesterday."

"Can't we have two late nights and sleep in tomorrow?" Dipper pled. "They might not be there tomorrow night! What's more important: sleep, or seeing the Nightwigglers?"

"Yes, I see your point. You're absolutely right," Ford said. "I could take a nap now and we can leave after dinner."

"Yes!"

Stan groaned, "Great—the insomniacs are enabling each other." He shook his head and started upstairs, muttering, "I'm gonna see what Soos is hammering on."

Dipper said, "I've already packed my camping supplies! Do you need help packing? I can help you pack! Come on—I can show you where we're going, too!" He impatiently led the way to the elevator.

####

This weekend, Bill had escaped the shack, faked his death, and proven that the whole Pines family actually wanted him alive; and yet, for all that, Mabel thought he seemed pretty down in the dumps today. He'd been kind of off since the eclipse.

Actually, now that she thought about it, he'd been off since before the eclipse, ever since the day he'd been grumpy to her about the glass pyramid "Mysteries." She was pretty sure he wasn't mad at her about that anymore; so she didn't know what was wrong.

But even though Mabel could see him wince when he leaned certain ways or moved his arms too quickly, he was trying to hide that he was in pain and he was trying to hide his gloomy mood. He grinned when he played the piano, and he alternated between popular songs that she knew and could sing along with and a bunch of old boring things like jazz and opera. (Bill tried to sing along to everything, even when he shouldn't. Mabel was pretty sure he was the worst opera soprano in the world.)

She didn't know how to fix whatever was actually bothering him. She could hang out with him and sing and talk—that seemed to make him happier. But Bill needed more than that.

He needed more friends.

Bill attempted a run, one hand crossing over the other and back as he rolled up the keyboard; his hands tripped over each other and stumbled across several keys at once.

Mabel laughed. "That sounded like a musical fart!"

Bill blew a raspberry. "I'll show you a musical fart." He attempted the run again, and messed up again.

Mabel laughed again. "I don't think you've got that part."

"Hey! I'm usually great at that part. It's this body—I'm used to playing it with flat fingers, I haven't practiced it with an extra dimension before," said Bill, who was lying, and had never been good at that part, and truthfully was pleased he now had an excuse that let him pretend he was actually better than he was. "Playing piano in a human body really holds me back. It takes nine hands to play my favorite song." That wasn't a lie.

He started the song over and elbowed Mabel. "Hey. Something's eating at you. What's up, kid?"

She hadn't realized she wasn't hiding her gloomy thoughts well enough. "Uuugh, I want you to meet my friends, but this morning Grunkle Ford said I still can't invite them over even though you're off death row. I guess he and Grunkle Stan are still worried you'll brainwash them or something?"

"Pff. We're still—renegotiating the terms of my imprisonment."

"Oh yeah? What have you renegotiated so far?"

The corners of Bill's mouth turned down. Mabel suspected that might have something to do with his foul mood. "Hey, I've got an idea to get your friends over here."

"Yeah?"

"Tell your uncles that the girls' parents are starting to wonder why you haven't been inviting them over like you did last summer. Say they're beginning to think that something is going on over here, and they're worried you're not in a safe environment—buuut if their kids can come over and see everyone's just been adjusting to a new guest, maaaybe their parents will calm down, right?"

Mabel shot Bill a dirty look. "Bill! That's a complete lie."

"But it's the kind of lie that could easily be true, and might even be true in the future, so is it really a lie?"

"Yeah it is."

"No it's not! Besides, it'll get your friends over here and it won't hurt anything, won't it?"

Mabel grimaced. "Okay, I can try—but if I try it and it works and I bring my friends over, you've got to make friends with them."

"Hmm!" Bill's face twisted up. "I like Candy's taste in art. And her bloodthirst."

Mabel elbowed him. "What do you have against Grenda?"

####

Eight-year-old Grenda sat at her desk kicking her feet and staring at her $1 bill, waiting for the bell to ring for lunch. It was Chocolate Chip Cookie Monday, they were fresh and gooey, and she was ready.

For the first time, she noticed the design on the dollar had a weird little one-eyed triangle with a hat. She pulled out a marker and drew a little smile under his eye.

And then she added buck teeth to the smile.

And then she gave him a second eye, stupid glasses, and a spiky beard that poked out in every direction.

And then drew wavy stink lines over him and added a word bubble that said "I'M SMELLY!"

"Heh. Stupid looking guy," she mumbled.

####

With an air of haughty disdain, Bill said, "She knows what she did."

"Okay, but you'll be nice to her, right? Pleeease?"

"All right, fine," Bill said. "For you, I'll be nice."

####

"Grunkle Stannn can my friends please come over? Even their parents think it's weird that they haven't been here all summer! If Grenda and Candy come over they'll know nothing weird's going on!"

"Uhhh..." Stan grimaced. "The last thing we need is parents asking questions... Yeah, sure, you should probably do that sometime soon. Maybe after we figure out what we're doing with Bill for the rest of the summer—"

"Thanks!" Mabel hugged him, ran off, and decided she'd heard Stan say "yeah, sure, you should."

She pulled out her phone. "Candy! Grenda!" She kept her voice at a loud whisper. "Great news! Dipper's gonna be out with Grunkle Ford tonight and I kinda-sorta got permission for a sleepover! Get ready for a party. I have a plan."

####

(This is a bit of a transition chapter for a couple more plots, but I hope y'all enjoyed! Let me know what you think!)

[queenpiranhadon]

"Oh god, what did ya do now?"

"Your sarcasm is the last thing I need right now, Ryo."

Though he wasn't being sarcastic in the slightest, Sukuna can tell you're in a bad mood.

And if your snappiness wasn't proof of that, it would definitely be the swollen lip and bloody knuckles.

"The fuck did you do, woman?" he stares, shocked. You weren't one for fights, or violence of any sort for that matter, so to see you like this was so... jarring.

Though you don't seem hurt angry just pissed off angry.

So when you plop down on your bed, Sukuna sits next to you, his hulking form basically dwarfing yours as you both sit on the bed in silence.

After a while, he breaks it.

"....Did ya least win?"

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Having a star football player for a boyfriend and losing a fight would be pathetic of me. Of course I did."

Sukuna grins, ruffling your hair proudly. "Attagirl."

Then he frowns, watching as you wince while gingerly flexing your hands.

"Wait here." he says gruffly, and you blink up at him in surprise, watching him retreat into the bathroom and come out with a first aid kit.

"Ryo...?"

"Just keep still and lemme help ya. Once I finish bandaging ya up, I'll getcha some ice for yer lip and we can email your professors that you can't do as much writin' or typin' for a while."

You stare at him dumbfounded, watching as he gently starts cleaning your bruised and bloodied hands, hissing at the alcohol stings, but Sukuna just kisses you all over your face as a distraction.

"Shh...almost done baby...see? Wasn't so bad." he murmurs, reaching over to grab the bandages and starts to wrap your hands gently, kissing your knuckles softly before moving over to the other one.

Once he finishes up, he brings you some ice for your lip as promised and emails all your professors for you.

With all of that out of the way, you cuddle up on your bed, watching some random movie you found on Netflix.

"Hey. Baby."

You hum, letting him know he has your attention.

"The fuck happened that gotcha so messed up in the first place?"

You let out a low breath at that and chuckle awkwardly, recounting the event in your head. "About that..."

"Fuckin' talk, woman." he groans, exasperated.

"Some random girls were slipping love letters in your locker." You sigh, looking away, embarrassed. "I just got a little annoyed is all."

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. "Seemed a little more than annoyed, babe."

You groan, hiding your face in his chest. "Okay, so I got a little mad. It's not like I immediately started punching her though!"

Sukuna grins teasingly, laughing as he wraps arm around you and flicks your forehead. "Looks like my girl's a little possessive, yeah?"

You glare at him and punch his chest with the side of your fist lightly, as to not injure your hand further.. "You're an asshole."

"Aw, don't be like that baby. It's cute."

"Fuck off!"

A/N: heheh we all need a little soft Sukuna in our lives.

[arminsumi]

Hii can we pls get an extremely smitten in love like love sick gojo pls?????

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

A/N: ABSOLUTELY!! 🥰

Wc ≈ 1.7k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: the annoying popular boy at college has his heart set on you 😌💕

Warnings; it's a little cheesy

There’s a white-haired boy that always, always sits next to you in every single class. He’s got the looks that kill, one-of-a-kind features, almost too pretty to be on earth; the kind of boy that makes even teachers stutter in the middle of their lecture simply because of his presence.

So many girls fawn over him, like he’s the rockstar of your college with a bunch of groupies following wherever he goes.

And that ticks off one reason you don’t like Gojo Satoru.

The other reasons? To narrow it down; he’s an arrogant cocky flirty bastard who will not stop asking you out to parties and dates. Persistent and determined to make you crack and finally fall for him. Relentless and fast in his pursuit of your heart no matter how far it runs – he’s gonna getcha, he knows it, it’s just a matter of time.

He’s never felt this deeply or intensely. It makes his head spin. When you walk in the room, when you speak, when he sees your name on an attendee list… it has him feeling tingly and lightheaded. Even getting a text from you makes him jump; he replies in two seconds and pouts when you leave him on read. He even complains to his mom and Suguru about you.

This boy is the walking symptoms of lovesick.

But he’s in heavy denial about it. No, no – he’s not obsessed, you’re obsessed. He’s not crushing on you; you’re crushing on him. He’s not chasing you; you’re chasing him. He doesn’t wanna kiss you, you wanna kiss him.

“You have such a fat crush on me.” He smirks, talking unashamedly loudly so everyone who’s passing down the columned corridor can hear.

You sigh. “No I don't, Gojo.”

“It’s Satoru to you,” he winks, “And anyways, you’re not busy this afternoon, yeah?”

“Actually I am – ”

“Great! Let’s go out.”

Your whole face spells how frustrated you are.

“Oh my god…” you sigh, getting up for your next class which was in two minutes – Gojo took up all your time. Your friends had long slipped away after he gave them a glare, snickering as they did because they thought the whole thing between you and him was hilarious.

His long legs strode next to you down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To class.” you replied.

“Let me walk you there.” he offered eagerly.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need.” you replied.

He looked at you like a sad puppy, so you gave in. “Oh my god, fine then.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“What!” you looked at him incredulously, “You’re the one who – oh my god never mind. Walk me to class, Gojo.”

He grinned in satisfaction. You almost wanted to smack him.

“It’s Satoru.” He corrected.

“I’m not calling you that. We’re not friends.” You said.

“Gosh, you’re breaking my heart!” he jokes, but deep down he was a little cut by that. You could tell by how he said no more smart remarks. He was silent.

You slid into your seat, watching your professor prepare the sliding whiteboards with awful scribbles of calculus. Gojo slid right next to you, settling his smart ass down a little closer than last time. He was aching to get closer to you in any way he could.

“I need a pen.” He whispered under his breath to you as soon as the lecture began.

“Seriously? Again? Where do you keep putting the ones I give you, up your ass?”

He smirked at you. Pretty blue eyes peaked over the rims of his sunglasses. You weren’t the only one to notice that he had them on indoors; the professor glanced over and immediately reprimanded him.

“Gojo, glasses off indoors, please. Don’t make me keep reminding you.” She said.

Gojo grumbled and reluctantly took them off, setting them down on the desk. You’d already began hastily scribbling notes, but all Gojo managed to do for the first ten or fifteen minutes of the lecture was drum his borrowed pen on his empty spiralbound notebook. He stole thirsted glances of you out of the corner of his eyes.

At some point his attention solely focused on you.

He observed you intently; the way you held your pen, the pace at which you write, your handwriting, how you leaned over just enough for your breasts to lightly squish against the desk.

“Hey.” He whispered to you.

You looked at him bemusedly. Ah, here he goes again. Fifteen minutes in and he has something to say to you.

“Can I copy your notes?” he asked.

“Seriously?” you whisper-shouted. The professor was so deep into her lecture about calculus that she didn’t notice Gojo starting to chat you up.

Asking to copy your notes was just his entry into flirting; what followed next was “I like your handwriting” and “so about that date…” and “there’s a party at my place this weekend…” and “wanna ditch this class together?”

“Satoru,” you said, “shut up, please.”

He shut up, not because you asked him to – he would have gone on and on despite your wishes, but you called his name. That took him aback so much so that he actually had to recompose himself and sit back, take in a breath, think for a bit. The way you pronounced his name had him in pieces.

Now came the part of the lecture where Satoru started making you laugh. You tried so hard not to, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – but he had a good humour, you couldn’t deny a few breathy laughs here or there.

His unwavering stare was so distracting. That and the fact he kicked his feet up on the desk. He took them down when the professor turned around, and then resumed his lazy position as soon as she turned back to the whiteboard.

“Satoru,” you began, “How is it that you never take notes and still pass?”

He shrugged. “I’m a prodigy. You’re sitting next to a real genius.”

You regretted asking.

He felt bad, so he gave you a small honest answer. “I cram at night.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Would be nice to have a study buddy…” he suggested.

“No.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice? Let’s study in the library later.”

“No – ”

“Okay! I’ll meet ya there!” he smiled decisively, choosing to ignore your decline.

The class concluded, and Gojo lingered by your desk waiting for you to pack up. Some lovestruck girls always approached him at that point, and he held small talk with them. He absolutely let their compliments fuel his ego.

You tried to take advantage of the fact he was distracted by them so you could slip out of the lecture theatre unnoticed. But he had good eyes.

“Oh, gotta go. Bye.” He said hastily, eyes locked on you like you were his target. He practically tumbled down the desk levels to get to you.

Just as you disappeared beyond the door, he caught up with you, lanky body colliding with yours on ‘accident’. You thought it was deliberate, but it really was an accident – he was so clumsy around you. He threw you a lopsided, apologetic smile.

That familiar sad puppy expression developed on his features as you walked quickly down the corridor and ignored him. Inside, you were bitter about how he bathed in those girl’s attention.

He had his hands behind his back. A peculiar thing – he usually walked like he owned the place with his hands swinging like a model on a runway. You stopped abruptly in your tracks when you noticed his deflated behavior. He bumped into you again.

“Hey…”

“Sorry.” He muttered apologetically.

“… wanna get lunch together, after studying?” you offered, feeling bad for how you ignored him the whole walk to the library.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah! Yeah… uh, yes.” He almost choked. “Absolutely.”

After that, he had a pep in his step as he followed you into the library.

Studying with him was super unproductive. He kept teasing your face, pinching your cheeks and ears to get your attention and then when he had it, he started rambling about something.

Then he pulled giggles out of you. He did such goofy, stupid things.

“Look.” He said, so you looked away from your textbook.

You shook your head.

He had balanced a book on his head and bit his borrowed pen between his pearly whites.

“Don’t put my pen in your mouth! I don’t want your germs.” You said.

He grinned.

You had to admit… that was an attractive smile. The way his Addam’s apple subtly shifted. The way his eyes lit up. The way his eyes creased.

He took the book off his head and the pen out of his mouth.

“You don’t want my germs?” he pouted jokingly.

“No, no way.”

“How are we ever gonna kiss?”

“E – excuse m – what? Huh?”

Gojo giggled. He threw that in just to see your reaction.

“You sooo wanna kiss me.” He teased.

“Uh… I don’t…” you swallowed.

“You’re such a bad liar.” He said, his tone shifting into a genuinely serious one.

“I’m not lying. I’d never kiss you.” You spoke.

“Yeah?”

He brought his face closer to you. So close you could see the subtle freckles on his pale cheeks.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Gojo asked, peering at your soul with his eyes.

You stuttered, too stunned to response. What would you do? It was a genuine question, you could tell by the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. He really wanted to know.

“I don’t know…” you responded.

“Have you thought about it at all?” he asked. A slight nervousness shook his vocals. There was the smallest of voice cracks as he said ‘thought’.

Should you have been honest? You were looking into his eyes contemplatively. Was he trying to trick you? Was he gonna get an answer out of your lips and then humiliate you with it?

You just bit the bullet and said it.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

His eyes searched for any hints that you were kidding. You got his heart thumping, his blood rushing around so hard he felt dizzy.

It looked like he wanted to kiss you really badly, but your phone went off and ruined the moment completely. The lovey air dissolved between you and him and he wished it hadn't.

While you hastily took your phone call, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes that Gojo had a boyish blush on his face.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ LOVE BITES. yan! isagi yoichi / gn! reader / yan! kurona ranze

you don't know what to do but spit fire and hate at two kidnapping psychos who can't even keep their lips off each other. they could at least have the decency to not do it in front of you :/

+ waaaah idk this writing feels lazy but i love love loooove poly yanderes and i wanted to try exploring it...

( once again. how do kissing scenes work. slight bl00d. poly relationship. implied other poly relationships who are also out to getcha )

ever since their blue lock days, kurona had always been isagi’s partner-in-crime. of all the partners yoichi could have chosen, he who had came later in his life was the one who won isagi’s trust and hand. and now he and isagi conquered together– in every match, in every television appearance, and now most importantly, you.

“kurona,” isagi murmurs, his delicate yet calloused fingers running up and down your bare hips. called by his silent command, kurona leans in closer, and his lean body presses itself on your shivering back. there is a silent intimacy in the air, simply indescribable by words. alone in the shadows of their shared living space, with only the occasional sliver of moonlight whenever the curtains flutter, the three of you press your heated bodies together.

isagi casts his gaze upon him, benevolent and possessive. it’s a cross between the kind off-field isagi and the cruel maestro of the court, and kurona finds himself shuddering under his gaze. “kurona,” he calls again. “talk to [your name] for me, please?” he sends him a pleading look, obviously disappointed that none of his attempts to consoling you is working. “i think they’re still scared of me.”

“mmm, is that true, [your name]?” he nuzzles into your nape and hugs your waist. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers dig into your skin– not harsh and blood-drawing as you expected, but well, who can blame you for your paranoia? “why’re you scared of isagi? of me? hmm?” your nape is soft against his nose, and he lets out a content sight. “we’re taking good care of you, aren’t we?”

you can’t help but whimper when he finally places all his body weight on you, treating you like a mere plushie as you’re now squished between isagi and kurona. “that’s right,” isagi hums, idly playing with your hair. “whatever you want, you can ask. we’re pros now, [your name]. we can buy you anything you want.”

you bite your lip, sending a teary glare up at isagi. he smiles so kindly, just like the kind boy you once cheered on blue lock tv. you can feel kurona’s gentle touch on your stomach too, and keenly aware of how capable he is of hurting you with just one clench. “i want to go back home.”

kurona and isagi share a quiet laugh. “everything except for that, that is.” the blue-haired boy even has the gall to send you an apologetic smile. “sorry.”

“we need you here with us,” kurona whispers, as sweet as he can be. his teeth graze against your nape once again but before he pulls away he takes a nip at your skin again, with more warning than the last. “you’re our prize, our trophy, our love. all of us love each other, yeah? you love us, and we love you too. how could you handle being away from us?” he has the gall to say all of this like it’s fact, imposing their feelings on you even when your face contorts into disgust with every delusion he spouts.

“i don’t think i would wanna live without you and isagi,” kurona whispers into your skin, as if sharing a secret. isagi’s one arm slings itself around kurona, now having the two of you huddled in his arms. “i think i’d die. yeah, i’d die.” sometimes, you think that kurona might just as much of a prisoner as you are. isagi likes to play nice all the time but both of them know how cruel and manipulative he could be, and how tightly he has kurona wound around his finger. but you watch as isagi smiles endearingly at the boy, pressing a kiss on his lips. then when he pulls away, kurona lets out a low whine, isgai’s breath hitches, and he dives in again for yet another albeit messier kiss. you cringe and look away.

chuckling, isagi gently holds the back of your hair— slightly squeezing the strands as warning— and guides your vision back to them. isagi is watching you from the side of his eye, smirking as he continues with that messy and drooly kiss. kurona struggles to even open his eyes, too pleasure-struck as he leans into the kiss. “watch, [y. name]. you could learn a lesson or two,” he chuckles. “kurona’s always so good for you and me. you should see what you’re missing.”

 “i’m not missing out anything,” you sneer, though you’re only speaking to air as isagi redirects his energy into making out with kurona. “you two are sick. keeping me here and subjugating me to your every whims. you’re perverted psychos, that’s what you fucking are.” 

kurona’s eyes slant slight, looking somewhat like a kicked puppy as you spout venom at the both of them. isagi just looks more amused than anything and he finally releases kurona from his hold. the sharp-toothed holds both of your hands in his as he looks up at you pleadingly as he presses your cold palm against his cheek. “[y. name], you’re here because we want to protect you. everyone out there wants a piece of you… kaiser and ness… nagi and that millionaire. isagi just wants the best for you.” he presses a soft kiss to your palm. “for the both of us.” 

you want to refute this, that the only reason why they locked you away is so their other equally psycho competitors won’t find you and take you for themselves. but kurona’s eyes and gentle acts have a way of prodding at your heartstrings and you feel like you were falling for this stupidly effective manipulation tactic of his. so instead you sigh and look away from him, gritting your teeth with hardened eyes.

“now, now, don’t be too stubborn,” isagi laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “you’re going to be with us for a lo~ng time. might as well learn how to love it.”

you bite your lip to silence yourself and watch as kurona smiles gently at you, nestling himself right beside isagi’s head. “love you so much, both of us,” he murmurs into your skin. his sharp teeth graze the soft flesh, making you stiffen and your fingers dig into isagi’s thigh in alarm. “you’ll accept our love, won’t you?”

“of course they will, kurona,” isagi affirms, not even waiting for your response. “don’t feel too guilty.”

a silence between them happens, sharing some sort of secret message you’re not privy to. soon, kurona’s lips twitch into a smile—

and his teeth dig into your neck, blood seeping from the broken skin as you scream at the pain. warmth shoots through your neck, something trickles downwards and under your shirts, and you stare wide-eyed at the ceiling as you hear nothing but your own shallow breaths. kurona hums beside you, licking the marks in apology, and one fearful glance at him has you flinching at how he licks the blood from his lips with that ever-gentle expression.

“looks s’ pretty on you, kurona,” isagi says appreciatively, pressing down on his lower lip with his thumb and kurona opens his mouth so he can get a full view of the mess within his mouth. “must taste really good, huh? especially with the way you’re blushing.” 

he’s right, your mind manages to comprehend. his eyes are lidded as his tongue swipes at his teeth to get every drop and the blush on his pale face tells you just how much he’s enjoying this. the man’s a sick pervert. how could i fucking forget?

“don’t be so angry, [y. name].” isagi swipes a trickle of blood from your skin and presses it against kurona’s lips, who too eagerly sucks on his finger to get more of the taste. “it’s the least you could do for hurting kurona’s feelings. our feelings.” 

you don’t quite have the energy to even bite back. in defeat, you slump against isagi and close your eyes to the sound of kurona’s hungry slurps and isagi’s encouraging moans.

sick fucks.

maybe you should let yourself get kidnapped by reo. better the collar than getting bitten. probably.

[bambi-slxt]

there's something so *animal noise* about soft!dealer! chris

soft!dealer!chris:

✨a concept✨

scared to smoke for the first time? "easy, kid...alright, breathe out...atta girl."

been smoking forever? "hell yeah. you tryna outsmoke me? y' pro’lly will, shit."

ran out of bud in the middle of the night? "you got chris. oh - hey kid. uh huh. yep. yeah, i gotcha. always. hm? nothin. wanna meet me at the regular spot or you want it Doordashed? im kidding, i'm kidding. yeah. see you soon, kid."

bought product from some weird guy out of town? "come on, you know better. i'll getcha whatever you want, you know that. of course it's not as good as my shit. …yeah i'll try some.”

stressed out and wanting a smoke buddy? “yo. sure, i'm at the house. yeah. you wanna watch what? what's that? …if you can find The Princess Bride, we’ll watch it. yeah. i'll live. see ya soon.”

trying a new type of edible? "oh fuck, kid. this is good shit. you feelin' anything?...you're a mess, girlie. nah, just ride it out. i'll be ya' tripsitter...don't worry. i gotcha. always.”

chillin at a kickback? "hey, look who it is. get here alright? good. saved some for ya. yeah, si'down. ignore these fuckers, they're fried...good to see ya, ma."

asking him to shotgun? "you sure? a'ight then, come here..." he cradled your face with one hand, his hooded eyes tearing away from you for a moment as he takes a long hit. holding his breath steadily, chris tilts your head towards his. pressing his lips against your own, he exhaled slowly, gently - always so fucking gentle. "...atta girl, look at you, huh? regular stoner now, aren'tcha." he took another hit, blowing the smoke away from you. but his eyes never left yours again.

greening out? “whoa, hey, you're okay. breathe, in and out. you don't need an ambulance. it's gonna be okay…'m not gonna let anything happen to you. jus’ keep breathin’ for me. there ya go…i gotcha, girlie. m’ right here. yeah. m’ not leavin’ ya. oh…sure. i don't mind. fall asleep wherever you want. …if you drool on my shoulder i'll wash the shirt. don't worry about it. yeah. c’mere. …you're okay. shush. go to sleep. no, i don't mind. i offered, didn’ i? …there you go. sleep it off. i'll be here when you wake up.” "promise?" "always."

bambi's notes: i'm so in love with this one it's not even funny. sorry for lack of uploads, locking tf in this week i promise.

my tags are broken, i'm so sorry - working to fix them, will update as necessary. reblogs appreciated!!

update: TAGS ARE WORKING BITCHESSSSS

[koolades-world]

The moment the om cast realized they fell in love with you (part three)

requested by a few people! here it is :)

Diavolo

He had been looking forward to the end of the week for what felt like hundreds of years now. He always wished it was the weekend, so that wasn't it. Although the thought of making every day Saturday was very tempting, Lucifer and Barbatos would not forgive him. What he really was looking forward to was his first one-on-one sleepover with Mc. Every time in the past they had happened to have a sleepover, everyone else was there. The brothers loved hogging Mc's attention. Not that he could blame them, though. He adored spending time with Mc. Just the fact that they agreed to come to the palace to spend time with him without the brothers present made him giddy. He wasn't sure if it was getting to have casual time with Mc and getting to learn human sleepover traditions.

When he initially suggested having a sleepover to Mc, it was because they mentioned having lots of fond memories when they were younger of sleepovers. It was only after the fact that he realized what he had just done. It didn't make him any less excited, but he felt more antsy about it. He had even worked extra hard and gotten more work done than he usually would to get Barbatos off his back for a night. Lucifer had even promised to keep his brothers away from them for the night so they could enjoy time together.

Mc had sworn to show him everything that humans younglings do at sleepovers, including doing each others nails and hair, throwing mini fashion shows, reading popular magazines, raiding the fright for midnight snacks, binge watching movies, and of course, playing games. He was looking forward to learning more about humans, but he found himself looking forward to spending time with Mc. He was always so busy, so this would be a rare opportunity.

The moment he heard Mc had finally arrived at the castle, he was scrambling to meet them at the door. Unfortunately Barbatos was too attentive for him, so he had to settle for meeting them in the grand hall. They were carrying a pink duffle bag that could barely close, something they borrowed from Asmo thanks to his name being embroidered across the side. They were dressed in pajamas, already prepared for the night. Mammon stood by their side, looking like he was ready to go out.

"Have fun, Mc. Let me know if ya wanna go home at any time. I'll come getcha even if it's three in the mornin'." He wrapped an arm around Mc's shoulders and side hugged them for a moment before letting go.

"I will. See you tomorrow. Stay safe, get home at a good time. Don't stay out too late." Mc patted Mammon's arm, and he reluctantly left after glancing at Barbatos, Diavolo, and Mc. Diavolo felt smug, but he wasn't sure why. There was no reason to be. He quickly let go of that feeling in favor of finally getting to spend time with Mc. "Hi Dia. Hi Barbatos." Mc waved to the prince and his butler.

"Please let me know if you need anything, My Lord. I'll be attending matters else where. Dinner will be done shortly." Barbatos excused himself.

"So, where are we sleeping?" Mc shifted the bag on their shoulder. Diavolo reached over and took it from them since it looked heavy.

"Well, would you be fine staying in my room? Of course, if you're uncomfortable, I can arrange something else-" Diavolo began to regret his earlier decision and grew anxious that Mc might not like it.

"I don't mind. That's part of a sleepover anyways!" Diavolo let out a mental sigh of relief. He should have known Mc would have been fine with it. They happily followed him through the castle, waving to Little Ds as they passed by. They arrived at his room eventually. He nervously opened the door. He had made sure it was extra clean before hand.

"Earlier today I went out shopping and bought loads of things I think you'll love! It wasn't easy to find some of this." They unzipped the duffle bag once they were in his room. Underneath the clothes and toiletries were an assortment of items. nail polish, various human board games, a Devil Switch that he recognized as Levithan's, and some magazines.

"Woah! You got all of this just for me?" Diavolo excitedly picked up a game box and shook it, listening to the pieces inside.

"I would say let's not start too much right now since Barbatos said dinner is almost done, but, I have another idea. A core part of a sleepover is ordering takeout! My favorite is Chinese and Thai, but pizza is more typical. Actually, do you even have that down here? I'm still not sure." Mc began removing the things they needed from their bag.

"Are you suggesting we... skip dinner?" Diavolo looked at Mc.

"Well, not exactly. We can still eat some, but just leave room for takeout later. I can't deny, Barbatos' cooking will be better." Mc nodded, with mischievous grin. Diavolo felt his heart skip at that smile; the smile they gave to everyone in the room. But, this time, it was all for him. It actually reminded him of the smile of an angel. He basked in their glory.

"Alright! You don't think he'll figure out, will he?" Dia questioned. Mc turned away from him, and when they turned back, he felt blasted by their smile again.

"Oh, there's no way he won't know. I don't think he'll stop us though as long as he eat a little. We can't waste his hard work, after all." Mc stacked the boxed games in a pile, placing the magazines on top of that. They pulled a laptop out of the bag and placed it with Devil Switch. He suddenly felt very stupid. He should have known that Barbatos would know, and probably knows right now.

He could blame the pounding in his chest for this forgetfulness. He always felt this way around Mc. He always managed to find a way to act afool around them. Before their arrival, he was always more put together and serious. Things were more chaotic now, but he wouldn't trade it for anything. He finally had someone to be less princely with, someone who would indulge his shenanigans. He would trade the fun with consequences for the boring days of paperwork any day.

Diavolo suddenly received a text from Barbatos telling him dinner was ready, and to bring Mc. "Barbatos says dinner is done and we should go down to eat." Mc looked up from their things.

"Alright. Let's go then." They began giggling as they left, leaving Diavolo to follow. They pretty knew their way around the castle from how often they were there. They excitedly told him everything they had planned for the rest of the night. He chimed in with all the questions he had, to which Mc answered diligently. Once they reached the grand dining room where Barbatos had set out their plates. Tonight was brushetta, dinner rolls, and a fancy looking pasta dish.

"Thank you Barbatos!" Mc thanked the demon. Despite saying they would not eat very much, they finished their entire plate. The entire meal, both Diavolo and Mc were chortling together to which Barbatos looked at them knowingly. As soon as the meal was over, they both thanked Barbatos again and scurried off quickly.

"First, we have to order the pizza, because we need to eat that before we do our nails, otherwise we might mess them up." Mc turned on their D.D.D. and placed the order online with Dia's opinion. As soon as the order was placed, Mc moved onto the next thing. Dia found it a little hard to keep up, but was excited. Time flew when he was with Mc.

First, the played a few human board games. They played Scrabble, Operation, and Life. Mc had brought more but they decided to stop early since they thought they might run out of time if they kept going. Their food arrived in the middle of the second game, so they ate as they played. After that, Mc insisted they do their nails and skincare. All the products they had were curtesy of Asmo. After using the products he knew he needed to get them for himself. After that, they played games on the Devil Switch that Levi had lent them. However, time seemed to slow when Mc brought out the magazines.

It wasn't the magazines themselves. Mc had brought a few choices, just in case Diavolo wasn't in the mood to read one of them. Mc recommended one fashion magazine to him, but he found himself lost in several places, so Mc suggested they read it together. What he wasn't expecting was for them to climb into his lap. They began flipping through the magazine in his hands, pointing at things on the pages, but all he could focus on was Mc on his lap. No other real thoughts went through his head. Luckily for him, Mc didn't notice and eventually, he was able to pay attention to what they were saying.

He felt warm with all the feelings buzzing inside him. At one point, he thought they might leave him, but they just leant far enough to grab their laptop. They pulled up Deviltube to put on a movie. Again, the entire time, the only thing he could focus on was Mc. Mc was so trusting and kind to him. They had been nothing but the best to him. He just couldn't place what he was feeling for them. It felt oddly familiar. As Mc leant back into his chest, he suddenly realized what that feeling was. He sat on it for a while as the movie played in the background.

"Mc?" Diavolo whispered after the movie was over. Mc didn't respond. He tilted his head and realized they were asleep. He smiled and tucked a blanked over the both of them. Now he was just left with his love for Mc and where he might go from there.

Barbatos

Barbatos carefully set up the tea table for two. He was expecting Mc over at the castle that evening, just after dinner. He would have preferred before dinner in order to steal them away from the brothers for longer, but this still worked. He has to make sure everything was just perfect, for them.

He made sure the tea he made was the kind the liked and all the little snacks were their favorite. He has grown to have them as his favorite too, since it reminded him of them. He thought the little set up for two was quite cute after looking back at his work.

“Barbatos! Mc is here!” A little D called out to him. He quickly stopped rearranging the table cloth. Was it really that time already? He grew slightly embarrassed at losing track of time and not being there in person to greet them.

“Thank you. You are most appreciated.” He made sure he was put together before heading to the door.

“Barb! So happy to see you!” Mc smiled at him as soon as he opened the door and practically tackled him into a hug. He chuckled and patted their back.

“Hell, Mc. It’s a delight to see you as well.” Mc took a step back to look him in the eyes.

“I have something for you!” They rocked on the heels as they presented him with a little gift bag that had a cute little label that said “for Barbatos.” He felt his heart begin to race at how giddy they looked.

“How thoughtful of you.” He accepted the gift and met Mc’s expecting eyes.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Open it! I’m excited to see what you think.” They giggled. He carefully pushed aside the tissue paper to reach what was underneath. Inside, was a few small bags of tea was labels he didn’t recognize. “It’s tea from the human world! I figured you must have tried pretty much all of them by now, but when I went to the human world the other day, I couldn’t help but wander into that shop and think of you.” They clasp their hands together, swinging them around.

“Thank you very much. It smells lovely. You always know exactly what to give as gifts.” He found himself lost in their happy grin.

“If you like them, we can go to the human world together. I remember the name of the shop. I think you would like it in there.” They flipped over one of the small bags to reveal the name of the shop hand written on the back.

“That sounds wonderful. We must do that.” Despite how collected he looked, on the inside he was scrambled. Mc invited him to the cute little tea shop. As… a date? Was he thinking too far into this? They both enjoyed tea, that’s all. Surely that wasn’t their intention.

“Let me know what you think. I tried the green tea, and that one in particular reminded me of you.” They showed him a different bag of a green, almost silvery colored tea with various little pearls of some kind mixed in.

“You really are the most endearing human I have ever met.” He held the bag up to the light, watching as the light eddied and danced around it.

“I’m glad you like it.” Mc smiled nervously. He felt himself begin to melt at their precious smile.

“Let me go drop this off in kitchen, then we will be off to our tea. Please excuse me for a moment.” Barbatos bowed and turned to leave the room. As he left. He heads Mc saying goodbye. He wasn’t sure what they would do while he was gone, but he needed a moment to regather himself.

He placed the tea with the rest, leaving the little gift bag on the counter for later. He glanced in a nearby mirror for a moment. He looked as he usually did. Nothing was amiss with his appearance. It was always perfect. Despite this, he still fixed his hair and shirt. He took a deep breath and made his way back to where he left Mc.

When he reentered the room, he couldn’t find Mc at first. He grew nervous. Had they left him? Was it something he said? However, the situation had no time to escalate. He heard Mc just down a nearby hall, conversing with a Little D.

“Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with Mammon. Maybe Lucifer will let us do a trade! You’re both yellow.” Mc laughed. He has heard that laughter about a million times now, but he never grew tired of it, and how gorgeous is sounded. When he pushed open the door a little more, he saw Mc on the ground. Barbatos rushed over to check on them, just in case something might be wrong.

“Hi! Sorry I wandered off a little. Just helping #2.” Barbatos looked at what was in their hands. They were holding a dust pan flat against the ground. Little D #2 was holding the matching brush and pushing some debris into the pan.

“You are a guest here. Please do not feel obligated to help out around here.” Barbatos knelt beside them to take the dust pan.

“I wanted to! I love #2. I just happened to see them here, and lent a hand since this is what they were doing. You know me. I hate standing around while those I love are hard at work.” Mc placed a hand on his shoulder. At first, he was unsure about how to feel about what they said. Then, he felt a little jealous that Mc had admitted they loved Little D #2. It was stupid of him to be, and he knew it was more of a parental love (even though #2 was much older than Mc). But he couldn’t help it.

Barbatos got back up and watched as Mc finished cleaning with #2, musing over his thoughts. He replayed their words in his head over and over again. Maybe he was looking too deep into it, but he still grew hopeful. Maybe Mc loved him too. Mc always found a way to interrupt his cleaning duties and take them over. He still found it odd that even though they were just a human and were limited on everything that he wasn’t, such as energy and time, they still went out of their way to reduce his work load.

He waved these thoughts away. He was most definitely looking into it too much. “If that’s what you so wish, I will not stop you. If you’re done here, may we proceed to our tea?” Barbatos offered his arm to them once they stood up. He hoped they would take it.

“We may! You’re such a gentleman.” They giggled and accepted his offer. They leant close to him, placing their head on his shoulder. “Bye #2! Nice seeing you!” As Mc waved to the Little D, Barbatos led them to the tea table he set up. He was so giddy at how close they were to him. It felt nice to have them all to himself. It felt good to not have to compete with the brothers or His Majesty.

While he would never admit it, he was always unsettled of sorts that Mc might choose someone else and never return to him. He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling despite living for as long as he had. He recognized the underlying reason behind all of his bubbling emotions when he was around Mc. It has been so long since he felt like he loved someone they way he did Mc. But he wasn’t willing to admit it, not yet, at least.

The whole way to tea, Mc talked his ear off. Barbatos enjoyed listening to their chatter. He felt like he could listen to it forever. He chimed in at their request, as when they asked questions and such. When they finally reached the cute tea table he had set up, he proudly presented it to them.

"Barb! You shouldn't have! You're so sweet! This is adorable. You remembered my favorites too!" Mc squealed and did a couple little happy hops. They pulled Barbatos into another tight hug. Before they pulled away, however, they gave him a peck on the cheek. He felt himself seize up, his arms frozen around them. Mc didn't notice, as they continued shaking him around joyfully.

If he had felt this before, he surely would have remembered it. He had felt love before, but it hadn't been nearly this strong. The love he had for Mc had him in a tight chokehold. Despite him working hard everyday, nobody appreciated him as much as Mc did. Every little thing he did for Mc did not go unnoticed and they always tried to take some of the work off his back. They always said thank you, which even Lord Diavolo and Lucifer couldn't even match. Once they let him go, he tucked them into their seat and let them pour about how amazing his work was to him.

"Awwww, you even iced my name on the little treats! Next time, you should come to the House of Lamentation, so I can do the same for you! It won't be this but I want to do the same for you." Those words are what finally sealed the coffin. He was most definitely in love with the person across from him. Nobody ever did anything for him. He found himself sad once their time together was over. He insisted on walking them home, so he could keep them safe and enjoy a little more time with them. He had always taken time for granted despite being the one to understand it to the fullest. Now, he treasured every second.

"Thank you Barb. I really had so much fun. I hope you enjoy the tea." Mc leant in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It was like the one from before, but this one was more deliberate, and lingered.

"It was my pleasure. Please feel free to stop by the castle anytime. We will have to arrange another gathering shortly." He felt himself avoiding eye contact. Mc was the only person with the ability to make him nervous.

"We should! See you tomorrow." They waved to him. Before they shut the door, he saw Lucifer greeting them. He turned to walk away, but before he was out of view from the window, he glaced back. He saw Mc enthusatically waving him goodbye. He waved back with a warm smile.

Once he got back to the castle, he stared down the gift bag. He admired their handwriting on the tag. He found himself almost reluctant to return to his work. He took the little bag to his room and tucked it away in a drawer. He touched his cheek, and sighed. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

@mona-aiko sorry I took so long!

will do the next part for sol, thirteen, mephisto and simeon!

[turtlecleric]

Wooooo self-indulgence yayyyyy

bay!raph x fem reader, angst and hurt/comfort, cw: implied past sexual assault, panic attack, dissociation, trigger words, if I need to add more warnings please do let me know (sorry to the people on the tag list, as always feel free to ignore)

---

When Raph pulls you into his room, presses your back against the door, and buries his face in your neck, you can't help but giggle like a fucking teenager. You feel his hot breath against your skin as he speaks, and it makes you shiver, makes your smile widen so much your cheeks hurt.

“Been waitin’ all day to getcha to myself, doll.”

The earnest excitement in his voice makes you melt. Large hands trail up and down your sides, massaging and kneading, and then his lips find yours. You sigh into his kiss, slow and sweet like honey. The barest glide of his tongue across yours, the low rumble in his chest that manages to vibrate your mouth just a bit. It's driving you a little crazy, to be honest. You can't get over the fact that he can get you this worked up just from kissing.

Too soon, he pulls his mouth away and goes back to nuzzling into your neck. His hands tighten on your waist before one comes up to cup your breast over your shirt. You two have only gotten past kissing a couple of times before, so it pulls a loud, surprised squeak out of you.

Raph's other hand comes up quickly to cover your mouth, and your smile slips away as your eyes widen and your heart stutters in your chest. He murmurs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, but the chill it sends through you this time isn't a good one.

“Shhh, you gotta keep quiet, baby girl. We're-”

No.

His next words are lost on you. There's a roaring static in your mind as sick panic takes over. It blurs your vision, distorts what you're hearing. You can't focus. You can't breathe. You can't move.

You're not there. Raph isn't him. Don't- don't slip back there, don't- no no no no-

Someone is standing over you. You're dizzy. Silent. As still as a statue. You feel their hand lift from your mouth, but you don't react.

Keep quiet. Keep quiet. Keep quiet.

You're aware of your heartbeat jackrabbiting against your ribs. You're aware that the person is talking to you again. You're aware of the barbed wire that's wrapping around your lungs and tightening. Tightening.

Keep quiet.

---

When Raph lifts his head to look at you, he freezes.

Something is… very, very wrong.

Your eyes are glossy, the faraway look causing alarm bells to blare in his head. You're not even blinking. Silent tears start to track down your face, and when he realizes how tense you are under his touch, he pulls away immediately. Raph says your name, tentative and quiet, and when you don't react, that's when he really truly starts to panic.

He says your name again, a little louder. You don't respond. Again. His hand hovers in the air between you, unsure and confused and fuck, what happened? What did he do? What does he do?

Carefully, he tries to take your limp hand in his. The moment he makes contact with your skin, you whimper and jolt back against the door in a full-body flinch. He yanks his hand back and watches in horror as you start to visibly tremble. The sight actually makes him nauseous, has him backing away from you and trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible.

What happened?

Are you… are you actually scared of him? The thought lodges his heart in his throat. Has his chest aching with something like betrayal, but no that… doesn't actually make sense?

“I'm not gonna hurtcha, sweetheart. You know that right?”

You don't respond. God, what has he done?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You probably didn't want him to touch you like that. He went too far too quickly. You- you probably want him to go and are too scared to say- but he's stuck! You're blocking the door! He can't- he doesn't want to move you so he can leave, but he doesn't want to keep scaring you, but he- but, but no, it still doesn't make sense. If you were actually scared of him, you wouldn't have been- this whole time with- what the fuck is going on?

He's stuck. Well and truly stuck. He can't talk to you, he can't touch you, he can't give you any more space than he already is. He's terrified, terrified, of making things worse.

So he waits.

---

Awareness returns to you slowly, and control returns even slower. It burns when you blink. Your muscles ache, exhaustion weighing you down like chains. It's harder than it should be to raise your hand and wipe at your eyes, to keep yourself standing upright.

You realize all at once what happened, and the mortification of it happening in front of Raphael has you covering your face in hot shame.

Wait. Raph. Where..?

You lift your head from your hands to look around the room. When you spot him, your heart clenches painfully in your chest. He's sitting in the furthest corner of the room, hunched in on himself, his arms circled around his knees and his head ducked low.

Making himself small.

You swallow, trying to shake away the fog in your brain enough to go to him. Your legs feel like jelly, but you manage it without falling. When you kneel and place a hand on his arm, his head jerks up in surprise, and you see that he's been… crying.

He's talking before you can open your mouth, each word a knife between your ribs, each break in his voice taking the knife and twisting.

“I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know that I'm- I guess I just thought- I'm sorry. I went too far, I didn't- I shoulda- I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry-”

“Hey,” you croak, wincing when he flinches at your wrecked voice. “No, Raphie. No. That was… not your fault, okay? It's a me problem. I should've told you- uh. There's just certain things that can…” You sigh, not yet thinking clearly enough to have this conversation.

You mentally kick yourself. You should've told him before it ever became an issue, but. When people find out, they… look at you differently. You wanted to hold onto that normalcy a little longer. Put it off just a little more. But the look in his eyes - confusion, fear, regret - it hurts to see. Hurts to know that this could've been avoided if you'd sucked it up and warned him, told him the things that set you off from the beginning.

You're too tired to think straight. Still shaking. But you know he deserves an explanation.

“Can we… can we just…” Brain fog. Hell man. Focus, come on. Your hand on his arm tightens. “I'm not scared of you. I love you. I love you so, so much. It's not that you- I mean I- I promise I'm going to explain, but right now I…” The tears threaten to spill over again, and the frustration tangles in your chest like so much fishing line. You're fucking this up, you know you are. You really need to sleep. To get to a point where your brain can actually do its job. Are you even making any sense? Is he going to get fed up with you and- no, stop. Stop it. Raph is still staring at you, waiting, waiting. You try again. “I just need some time. Then I can explain. Okay?”

Raph's lips thin, his brows pinching together as he watches your face. He looks like he's in agony as he does so, but he unfurls a bit. Slowly, carefully, he reaches his hand toward your face. It stops just before he makes contact, and the hesitancy, the worry that radiates off of him, compels you to lean forward and press your cheek into his palm. Your tiny smile seems to bolster him, and after a moment he speaks.

“Whatever you need. Anything, okay? Anything.”

You close your eyes, raising a hand to press against the back of his hand cradling your face. He's so… tender. It makes the tears spill over again, makes something snap in your chest like a rubber band pulled too far. Your body flashes hot with embarrassment as you dissolve into ugly, keening sobs, but when you lean toward Raphael he's quick to wrap you in a gentle embrace.

He holds you close, letting you weep into his plastron and hold onto him tightly. He doesn't move a muscle, doesn't shush you, doesn't say anything at all. It's unusual for him, but then you realize. He's still terrified of doing whatever it was that set you off again. The thought has you surging up to wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets you. You try to tell him you love him again. It comes out barely intelligible, but he understands you anyway.

“I love you, too,” he whispers. After a long moment, he continues. “No matter what, okay?”

Your throat feels like it's stuck in a vice. Like you couldn't possibly push past it to speak. Somehow, you do. “Okay.”

---

Tag list: @yorshie @luckycharms1701 @thejudiciousneurotic @khayalli @thelaundrybitch @mxalmighty

[merakiui]

HOLY!!!!!!!!! Can i have Floyd with "what's up with not calling me back?"??? if you're still doing the fwb dialogues!!!

(fwb dialogues)

For most of the week, Floyd's committed himself to following you around like a lost puppy. It was amusing the first day (and ominous to those who weren't aware of his involvement with you), but now it's Friday and you're beyond fed up. It was one thing to watch him seat himself beside you at lunch, thereby snatching Ace's usual spot, but it's another entirely to have him wait outside of Ramshackle to pick you up.

He's determined. You weren't expecting he'd last through the week. You're not particularly entertaining when you're so focused on your own priorities, but somehow that hasn't deterred him.

"Do you need something?" you ask, shutting and locking the door. Grim left before you, but now you almost wish he was here. The tension, though not as thick, is still troubling to navigate.

"Nah. Just wanna shadow ya today."

"You've done that all week."

"Shrimpy's been interesting all week."

You roll your eyes and stride ahead. He easily falls into step beside you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. It's quiet for all of two minutes before Floyd decides to break it.

"So what's up with not calling me back?"

"You'd know since you were following me all week." You peer up at him, arms folding sternly over your chest.

"That's just it. I don't."

"I was busy, Floyd."

"Busy," he parrots with a slight frown. "Mmkay."

"I need to study for a few upcoming exams."

"I getcha."

"So you can't distract me."

"I'd never."

"I'm serious. I need to get my grades up. I'm on the verge of falling behind."

"So I'll study with ya."

"Absolutely not."

Floyd pouts. "It ever occur to you that I wanna spend time with you outside of sex?"

"Not once."

"Well, I do."

"I highly doubt that." When he doesn't justify that with a retort, you add, "I haven't been ignoring you if that's what you think."

"I never said that."

"Okay... So why're you so hung up on me not calling you back?"

For a slim second, you think he looks conflicted. There's doubt in those normally bright two-toned eyes of his. But then it's gone, quick as a flash, and Floyd's back to wearing his sticky smile.

"'m not hung up. I was gonna ask ya somethin' real important."

"And you couldn't text it to me?"

"Nah. Calling's better." Floyd skips ahead towards the building. "You doin' anything for break?"

"Probably not."

He turns to look at you. "Cool."

You hurry to catch up, taking the stairs two at a time. "Why? Are you?"

"Yeah. I'm not gonna have my phone, so we won't be able to call."

"What? But... Oh, right. The sea." You wonder if you'll miss him during those two weeks. It'll definitely be quieter. "Have fun."

The both of you come to a halt in front of your classroom. He smiles at you. It looks sincere enough, almost hopeful.

"You could come with, y'know."

"To the sea?"

"Where else? Jade 'n I will show ya around. Take ya to our favorite spots."

"I'll think about it."

"Aren't you writing a paper on merfolk? You could study 'em up close if you came with. I'll even letcha check me out for your research."

You raise a curious brow. "Is that the 'real important' thing you wanted to ask me?"

"Maybe. I'll tell you if you come with. I'll get Azul to make you a potion. He'll do it."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch."

"Where would I stay?"

"My parents' place. They'll let you. Won't be a problem at all." He tilts his head at you. "Sooo, you comin' or not?"

"Um... I don't know. I'll think about it."

"Sure. Lemme know when you decide." Before he takes his leave, he adds, "I bet your paper'll be a real hit. Might even get you back to passing."

You scoff. "I can write it without your help."

"Of course you can. I never said you couldn't." And then he's slinking off to his classroom, his giggle still bouncing around inside your brain.

When you find your seat in class and dig your textbook out of your bag, a startling thought hits you: Wait. I'd stay with him at his parents' place?!

Just what are you getting yourself into? More importantly, why do you feel so inclined to agree?

[ticklishprincey]

Hazbin Hotel Tickle Headcannons

Second course anyone? (Part two) Nifty -110% ler -Isn't ticklish at all -Does not know the meaning of the word stop -Does not know when to stop -Literally has to be pulled away from her lee -Aftercare does not exist with this little shit -The most you'll get is maybe a headpat -Will target anyone and everyone Vox -Switchy switchy switch -Ruthless ler -Main targets are the Vees or Alastor -Knows when to stop but likes to push his lee a bit farther just to break them -Has a safe word established with Velvette only -He has made devices for tickling purposes and I will die on this hill -Responds to cursing lees with "Oh, we're going that route? Fine by me, I've got all day." [proceeds to wreck said lee] -Very good with aftercare, he'll get his lee water, a snack, a blanket and if he's close enough with them he'll cuddle them while they watch a movie -Surprisingly ticklish -Worst spots are his hips and thighs -Melt spot is his antennae -Very easy to fluster -Can't stand hearing the t-word -Main lers are Valentino and Alastor -Gets the wORST lee moods imaginable -Would rather break his own screen than ask to be tickled -Will blue screen if he gets too riled up -Starts to glitch when he's had his fill or if you fluster him too much Valentino -Ler 100% -I hate him BUT -He most definitely tickles the shit out of Vox change my mind YOU CAN'T -Not ticklish and rubs it in Vox's and Velvette's faces cause he's a cocky little bitch boy -Not REALLY good with aftercare but still gets his lee water and maybe cuddles Velvette -Ler-leaning switch -Likes being on both ends -Main target is Vox but will target Val if he's being too obnoxious -Likes to tease -Laughs along with her lee -Queen of raspberries and tickle bites -Definitely calls Vox in for a "fitting" just as an excuse to tickle him -Aftercare with her is usually her putting on America's Next Top Model and cuddling her lee -Only lets Vox tickle her without being seriously injured -Worst spot is under her arms but neck is a close second -Melt spot is behind her ears -Vox tickles her when she's stressed out or just because he can -Cannot handle teasing whatsoever but loves it at the same time -Tell her how much it's gonna tickle and she will simply pass away Adam -Ler-leaning switch -DEVIOUS LER -Definitely uses his wings as tickle tools -Loves to play the rib-counting game -"I'm missing a rib, mind if I take one of yours?" [proceeds to nibble on lee's ribs] -Main targets are Lute and Lucifer (I headcannon they made up/don't entirely hate each other let me live dammit) -LOVE LOVE LOVES to tease -"I'm gonnaaaaaa getcha getcha getcha! Tickle tickle tickle!" -Likes to build up anticipation before he even starts -Like wiggling his fingers right over a spot and laughing at the lee's reactions -Really good with aftercare, he'll hold his lee while he makes them a snack and play with their hair -CANNOT take what he dishes out -Insanely ticklish like it's bad -Worst spot is right where his rib is missing, he will scream bloody murder -Melt spots are his wings -Main ler is Lucifer but Lute joins in every now and then -Gets super bad lee moods but will not ask to save his afterlife -Luckily he's super obvious about it -Will instigate a tickle fight just to get wrecked after Lute -Not that ticklish but still enough to be a target -Will indulge Adam in both his ler and lee moods -Doesn't really engage in teasing but she'll make comments that are teasing enough for Adam -"Oh wow, you're really ticklish, God must've had a field day making you." -Aftercare consists of a glass of water with a few headpats -Not super ticklish like I said but if you know her well enough you can get her laughing -Not easy to fluster by any means -Worst spot is her back, Adam likes to run his nails up and down her spine and she loves hates it -Doesn't really have a melt spot but her favorite spot is behind her knees -Main (and only) ler is Adam -Will kill anyone else without hesitation or remorse

[newtabfics]

Desperate for some redeemed Ganondorf x dorky Sheikah researcher Reader who’s done with his shenanigans. He’s paying for his crimes with community service.

I SCREAMED WHEN I READ THIS AHAHA OKAY OKAY. Alright. So, for this--Let's just say, Zelda Magic happened and he's been purged of all power entirely. Like he's just a big dude, but let's also just kinda give him amnesia cuz Idk. I would wanna forget that I slaughtered millions of people just for my own sanity. Okay. But he knows cuz they told him the truth when he awoke.

"Hey, Ganny," Y/N chuckled as she ducked her head over the scaffolding to meet his eye level.

He blinked and smiled. "Uh, hey. What is it?"

"Lady Paya asked me to come getcha. I think she wants you to help Mellie with the plum trees. Apparently, there's a shipment of fertilizer."

Ganondorf grimaced and nodded. "Alright. What are you going to do then?"

"I was going to just go over my notes." She flipped down, looking up at him. Her heart thudded as she took in their size difference again. "So, let's go then."

"Plural?" He asked, smiling as he followed.

"Yep. Someone's gotta watch you."

"I think the whole village is doing that," He muttered before glancing up at the mountains surrounding the village. He saw the princess and hero practically having a picnic near a ruin as the dragons surrounded the village, practically glaring into him.

He was almost glad Y/N couldn't see them, knowing she'd likely get scared of them. Though the children in the village took notice of them quickly. He wondered if it had to do with the curse he'd made.

"Yeah, but to be fair, you were kinda the Demon King."

"I don't think there was a kinda about it." He sighed, rubbing his neck. "Y/N, you don't have to force yourself to be kind to me. You are very sweet though. I do enjoy spending time with you, but you don't have to."

Y/N blinked up at him, stopping as she met his gaze. "I'm not pretending. I don't ever pretend. Being a Sheikah, I try to be my genuine self when I am home. Missions make that hard." She looked down and away. "I like spending time with you. The princess erasing your memories was a really good thing, I think. It gave you a second chance. And it turns out you're into sand seal racing?" She grinned up at him. "never would've imagined."

"In my defense...they do look cute when they're winning. They're so excited!"

"I know, right! Oh! If we ever get to go out to the desert, I really wanna check out the races out by the ruins! Link told me he actually beat their champ a few years back."

Ganondorf blinked and looked away. "I'd like to do that, if we could, but, I don't know if I'd ever get that chance," He chuckled. He looked to her. "Thank you."

Y/N smiled and grabbed his hand, making him flush a slight as he was tugged away, trying not to fall on her as she ran.

Zelda sighed as Link handed her the water skin. "I'm not sure if this is a good idea."

"She'll be fine," Link said, popping a wildberry into his mouth. "He's already in love with her."

"HUH?!"

[fili-urzudel]

If you don't mind #9 and #7 with Thorin and Dwalin.

7. Sleeping in a dog pile

9. Forehead touches

I was quite honestly immediately inspired by this one, it was just bridging the gaps between every flash of inspiration I had lol. It felt nice to write something platonic, and I hope that this was close to what you had in mind, or if it wasn't, it's still something you enjoy. <3

Word count: 1.1 k

Warnings: Might getcha in your feels idk, old man dwarf Balin POV

Pebbles - Platonic Balin, Thorin, and Dwalin

Dwalin could hardly keep still, hands fidgeting with the head of the wooden axe Adad had gifted him some months ago. "Will you let us stay up as late as we want?"

"No," Balin answered sternly, still feeling a bit strange, entrusted with all this authority. "You will go to sleep when Amad and Her Highness said you need to go to sleep. And you'll eat your dinner."

"I thought brothers were supposed to be fun."

"I thought sons of the advisor to the king were supposed to be well behaved," Balin said, before ruffling his brother's dark hair. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of braiding it yet, so he decided to leave it all out, and it stuck out quite impressively from his head. "And you can have fun, just be mindful. It's not your house. And be gentle with Dis, she's just a little'un."

"Aye, aye," he waved him off.

The older dwarf hoisted his school bag over his shoulder again before knocking on the door to the common quarters of the royal family. "Come in!" The princess's voice rang through, and Balin took a deep breath as he pulled the door open. 

"Dwalin!" Thorin jumped up from whatever it was he was doing at the table to all but tackle his little brother, initiating their special handshake that always ended in a headbutt. 

He had taught them it. 

"And what am I? Chopped liver?" As he spoke, Frerin and Dis came running up, sticking to either side of him and forcing him to drop his bag of schoolbooks on the floor. "Ah, at least someone cares," he joked, a hand on each of their backs.

"Thank you for showing up early, we're about ready to leave," the princess told him with a genuine smile. She was always so warm. "I know you'll all have so much fun!"

"Not too much," Prince Thrain reminded them.

"Of course not, sir."

"I know you're a good lad, Balin," Thrain reassured him. "I'm sure we'll return to clean plates, clean rugs, clean clothes, and no damaged art, right?" He asked, pointedly turning to his eldest son and his best friend, who seemed to be tuning him out.

"Yes, da."

"Yes, sir!" They said at the same time.

After a round of goodbye and another set of reminders for Thorin and Dwalin, the pair were off, and Balin could get started on his homework. Right?

"Dis, you've got to finish your vegetables," Balin encouraged her, though he knew the words would have irked him when he was her age. 

"But I don't like green food," she pouted, blue eyes welling with on-demand tears. 

"Thattagirl," Dwalin praised, and Balin shot him a look that had him shrinking in his seat. 

"They're good, I prom—Frerin, that had better not be drawing clay," he warned as he saw the pebble nearing the wall with a suspiciously clenched fist. "I may not be your ma but I won't let you color the walls either."

After redirecting Frerin's creative energy to parchment, Balin cleaned up after dinner. 

It wasn't much easier after.

"Boys, no wrestling on the furniture," he said exasperatedly, still trying in vain to do his schoolwork at the dinner table. He moved his papers and books haphazardly in his arms to the table in the sitting room, hoping to dissuade them from trying again. 

They continued amusing themselves with tasks of varying volume, and Balin was almost done with his essay on the First Age when it went quiet. Too quiet.

"Boys?"

"Quick, pick it up!"

"Why weren't you watching her?"

"She's your sister!"

"She's your sister too!"

"You're older!"

By that point, Balin had made it to the room at the end of the hall—the master bedroom. Someplace none of them should be.

The scene was simple enough to decipher. A vase of some sort lay on the ground, formerly perched on a table that Dis must've walked into and knocked over. Surprisingly, the noise was not enough to make her cry, but enough to make the other pebbles start panicking.

It wasn't a big deal. Honestly, if it was anyone's fault, it was Balin's, something he would readily admit to when the prince and princess returned.

But the pebbles thought they were in big trouble, with enough anxious energy to keep them up all night. 

"Why, you little goats!" He roared, and the pebbles perked up almost instantly. "You'd better run!"

Dis shrieked and toddled away, the others in hot pursuit. Balin chased them around tables and the kitchen island, catching them and earning more screams every time they hid behind a bed or chair.

He let them get ahead of him just enough to confer among themselves, and when he caught up, they attacked. 

"Get him!" Dis cried in her small voice, and Balin couldn't hide his smile.

Frerin and Thorin each took an arm, and Dwalin bowled them back onto the couch. "My own brother, betraying me!" he shouted, closing his eyes in defeat.

The couch was wide, wide enough for the five of them to spread out as they wished. Dwalin lay on his chest, his untamed hair tickling Balin's chin.

Thorin laid his head on his stomach, his baby sister in his arms and his little brother laid out on his legs.

And finally, they could rest, Balin thought as not-so-quiet snores filled the room.

"Balin?" A small voice asked, and it took a moment for him to realize it was Dwalin's. It had been a while since he sounded so... little. 

"Yeah, nadad?"

"I'm sorry for not being better tonight."

"You were just having fun," he assured him. "It's alright."

"Are you sure?"

Balin touched his forehead to his brother's briefly, patting his back. "Yeah. Go to sleep, nadad."

His brother snuggled back up to his side.

He would clean up the vase later. He would tell the prince and princess when they got home and apologize profusely for not watching them more closely.

But right now, it was nice being right where he was.

My, where did time go?

It had been a long time since then, Balin reminisced. A lot had changed. They were charging to recover the mountain he had lived most of his life in. He had a couple hundred more grey hairs, and all the pebbles had full beards now. The ones that were still alive, at least. Dis had pebbles of her own, and they were on the quest. 

He wasn't sure, but he did know one thing. It was an absolute fact, actually, as Thorin and Dwalin lay snoring on each arm.

Some things didn't change much at all.

[ddejavvu]

I accidentally kept myself awake until like 3 hours before I need to get up cause I was watching r/nosleep readings and, despite being a horror addict, I'm a baby about scary stuff

Here's my thoughts:

Jack is away for a sleepover, and scaredy-cat reader convinces Hotch to stay up late watching a psychological horror with them, the kind thay really gets under your skin. He hesitates, cause he knows they'll be terrified, but caves to the puppy dog eyes.

After almost two hours of screaming, holding back tears, and hiding against Aaron's chest (and in his arms), the movie ends and it's time to go to bed. Reader is too scared to move a muscle, and Aaron has to comfort them and convince them to get to their room so they can both go to sleep.

Genuine attempts to show the lack of danger, humour to cheer them up, y'know the works. I hope reader ends up sleeping, cause I know I won't

(Signed, @hotchs-good-girl [who is BEGGING tumblr to let them send asks from side blogs])

i know how you feel! i can't even say mr scr*tch without freaking out.. it's kept me up many a night </33

--

"Sweetheart," Aaron's voice is sympathetically amused, murmured against the crown of your head, "Come on. Are you really that scared?"

"Yes!" You gush, your words muffled by the polo he's wearing, "Yes, Aaron, why did you let me watch that movie?"

His chest heaves slightly as he ascends the next step, keeping your weight supported by a hand under your thighs. He hadn't been able to convince you to walk on your own, because of course, the monsters could get your ankles.

"Well," He starts, flicking the light to the hallway on so that maybe you'll stop suffocating him with your arms wound so tightly around his chest, "You would have screamed until I said yes."

"I was kidding." You mumble grouchily into his chest, "I can't believe you're making me to go bed! That's where all of the killers are hiding, Aaron!"

"I take down serial killers for living," He reminds you, targeting your bedroom light next, "Don't you think we would have heard if someone had come into the house?"

"No," You insist, shaking your head as best you can, "That's how they getcha! They- I dunno, hide in the closets or something!"

"Hm," He hums, reaching for the knob of your closet door, "I'll check."

"Aaron- no!" You scramble out of his arms, landing on your butt on the floor and scrambling to stand on top of the bed, "Are you insane?"

"What?!" He's looking at you like you've grown a third head, though he's fairly certain your first one is injured after your fall.

"Don't take me in there with you!" You gesture wildly to the closet, "Were you just about to unleash the monsters while holding me? I would have been their first target, you dick!"

"Y/N," He deadpans, twisting the knob with one hand and yanking it open. You flinch at the sight, though he knows there's nothing there. A simple inspection of the space shows only a tie out of place, but he's pretty sure he knocked it off of the wall, not a monster.

"Just get over here," You hiss, unamused at his boldness, "I'm not getting to sleep tonight, so let's just get the night over with."

"Yes you are," Aaron chuckles, grabbing pajama pants and shedding his jeans. He tugs the polo off as well, but doesn't bother grabbing a t-shirt to sleep in, leaving his chest exposed as he treks towards the bed, "I'm going to be here the whole time."

"But you're gonna be asleep!" You tug the covers back, hurriedly tucking yourself beneath them, "I can't sleep if you're sleeping, 'cause then I'll be awake when the killer gets here but you won't. I can't be the protector of us, Aaron!"

You do look pitiful under the blankets, but he's sure that if a killer broke in trying to stab him, you'd turn their own knife on them. You're stronger than you feel in the moment, but he won't point it out.

"How about this?" He reaches for you, tugging the covers up and over himself and plopping unceremoniously on top of you, "You go to sleep, and I lay here and protect you. Nothing can get you if I'm covering you, right?"

"I guess not." You muse, squirming to get comfortable under his broad frame, "You swear you won't fall asleep until I'm out too?"

"On my life," He promises, though it's an unfortunate word choice.

"It will be," You groan, snapping your eyes shut and burrowing your face into his neck, "It was nice knowing you, Aaron."

"That's a weird way of saying I love you," He hums, pressing a kiss to your temple, the only part of your face his lips can reach, "But I love you too, scaredy-cat."

[tinkabelle24]

To Build a Home

Chapter 25: Dead and Gone

A/N: We're finally up to where I'm at presently with this story. Yay! 😊 I hope yous are enjoying it and that it's not too convoluted 😅

TW! Suicidal ideation

Masterlist / Chapter 24

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

Val had been staring at her shower curtain for so long, the once black and white geometric pattern had blurred into a monochromatic mess. Her pelvis ached and legs tingled from the prolonged, awkward seated position on the tile. Her scalp squeezed her skull like a vise.

It was official: she no longer had tears left to cry; nor the mental fortitude to continue repelling the not-so-great thoughts attempting to seize her mind. 

She felt strangely hollow and heavy at the same time; perturbed by how okay she felt at the notion of never waking back up should she lay her head back, right now, and let sleep finally take her. 

But what bothered her most was the chuckle that followed; scratching her tender throat as she languidly shifted into a more comfortable position. 

Yes. Instead of reaming herself out for being, what she perceived to be, selfish and melodramatic - as she usually did, whenever these kind of thoughts arose - she fucking laughed. 

Jesus, I'm losin' it... 

"Val...?" 

Val bit back a sigh, door thudding softly as she dropped her head against it. She'd foolishly hoped that, if she hid away long enough, her best friend would eventually give up and let her self-destruct in peace... 

"Mags missed you..." Mol sounded so close, her voice practically vibrated against the back of Val's head. "You should've seen her when I came in this morning: 'Mom, is that you- oh, it's the babysitter. Feed me, peasant', heh..." 

No response. 

"...Val, w-what happened?" 

Val could still feel the plush velvet on her fingertips, and the surprising weightiness of that tiny halo of steel as it dropped into her palm. Then Raph's face, when he walked in on her with it.

She'll never forget that face. Never before had she seen such panic in a man's eyes; like his entire life had flashed before him.

"Ya weren't s'posed to see that."

Those words cycled through her mind, growing louder and more contentious at each rotation. Reminding her of how royally she'd fucked everything up.  

---

(10 months earlier...)

"Alright, everyone shuddup! I need to focus..."

"Focus on what? I thought we agreed to kill everyone-"

"That doesn't sound morbid at all, Mikey... and I didn't agree to that - you two did."

"Why would'ya wanna keep Emily alive, anyway? She's a bitch-"

"I don't care. I want at least someone to live through this sh- AAH-!"

"Whoa-!"

"OhmyGod ohmyGod ohmyGod-!!!"

"Quick, they're gonna getcha-!"

"What is that- SHIT! Triangle, triangle, triangle- NO-!!"

"Whelp, bye flare-"

"WHAT THE FF-"

"Watch yo profanity-"

"Shuddup! ... Left, right, left, right- RIGHT- SHIT-!"

"Well, hello gorgeous-"

"WHAT IS THAT?! ... Ohhh, my God. Please, don't die...!"

Leo chuckled wistfully as he watched the three bicker like children, from the kitchen. In spite of the cards Val was dealt those past couple weeks (assault, charges and associated court drama), the leader was relieved his friend could still be, for the most part, her vivacious self.

They hadn't yet spoken about that night; the night they were forced to get a little too close for comfort, after he'd saved her life. She'd never approached him with it, nor he her. But, admittedly, it occupied his thoughts often; primarily how her touch and perfume still lingered on his body...

He understood now that that was the beginning of the end, for him. Despite his best efforts to remain emotionally detached from this woman, he'd in fact grown attached; and how...

Leo's heart did the new clenching thing at Raph's arm stretching over the back of the sofa, behind Val's head; fingers unwittingly searching for her shoulder. The moment they made contact, the leader tore his gaze away; refocusing on the two mugs of partially made green tea on the counter, before him... and the decision to finally let her in.

Deep breaths, Leo...

"WHAT?! ... You-!"

Two pairs of sniggering voices abruptly filled the air, accompanied by grunts and thumps shortly thereafter. Turning outward again, Leo found Val looming over his red-banded brother, bandaged hand snug against her vintage band t-shirt, repeatedly smacking a cushion over his head with the other.

Glimpsing the TV screen, two sharp, gangling thumbs thrust themselves inside the screaming woman's eye sockets, silencing her instantly.

"Why *smack* would *smack* you *smack* do *smack* that?!" Val exclaimed over Raph's broken laughter, and Mikey's howling. "She was doing so well-"

"Not anymore-"

"Yeah, cos your menace of a brother knocked my arm-"

"I'm s-sorry," Raph wheezed, finally granted respite. "I couldn't resist-"

A low, pointed whistle drew Leo's attention to the lab's entrance, finding Donnie peeking through at him. He offered an expectant look, to which the purple-banded brother grinned and nodded downward; to the smallish lidded box in his hand - Val's gift.

Returning the smile, Leo nodded in acknowledgement before clearing his throat, addressing the others.

"Excuse me, children," He called wryly. When Val frowned at him, he chuckled. "Put the cushion down, Pocahontas-"

"Call me a 'child' again and I'll-"

"You'll what?" The terrapin smugly challenged. "Not get your present?"

That shut her up.

She gave the others a quizzical look, to which they smiled knowingly. Raph pecked the top of her hand as he snuck the cushion out of her now lax grip.

---

Seated in the common area, the brothers shared anxious glances as Val proceeded lifting the box's lid, smiling in bemusement at the hand-sized, cylindrical device sitting snugly inside.

"It's a portable bō," Donnie clarified, when she looked to him expectantly. He leaned forward to carefully remove the device from its container, turning it in his hands as he continued.

"It's spring-loaded. So, when you press the trigger, here-" the terrapin's thumb hovered over the centre pushbutton; eyes trained on Val's face, to check she was watching - she hadn't blinked.

"It'll extend-" Confident nobody was at risk of being struck, he proceeded pressing down; the woman flinched - with a gasp, then a nervous titter; earning a comforting shoulder squeeze from Raph - at the once 10-inch device abruptly quadrupling in length.

"-to about four feet... You can lock it into place using this mechanism, here... To bring it back down, simply slide both ends in, like so... then use the mechanism again."

Setting it in Val's readied palm, Donnie offered her a doleful smile. "Perfect for your purse."

As her fingers closed around the device, Leo - seated in a dining chair alongside his purple-banded brother - chimed in.

"We wanted to give you something that couldn't easily be used against you," he remarked gently; blood cooling at the notion that, had he not acted when he did that night, she very likely wouldn't be sitting across from them right now... "Something with which you can still protect yourself, but not cause serious damage. Because, we..."

Swiping his tongue over his parched lips, the leader proceeded gesturing to each of his brothers, then himself; sharing a knowing glance with Raph. "We know you've been struggling with that, lately..."

At that, Val promptly lowered her gaze. The brothers caught a flicker of regret in her mien as that titter made the rounds again; cheeks flushing a brilliant red. "I-I, heh... I don't... know-"

"Dudes," Mikey interjected, sensing their friend's discomfort. Practically leaping from his armchair, the terrapin wittingly leant across an irritated Raph to reach said brother's girlfriend. "You forgot the best part! ... See this, here?"

Guiding Val's fist open, Mikey proceeded carefully turning the device until a near indiscernible etching crept into view. She squinted at it:

Dudette = Baddest Bitch

A snort promptly escaped her; heart lifting, Mikey finally exited Raph's personal space with a self-satisfied smirk - mission accomplished.

"She loves my handiwork," he gloated, earning a playful eye-roll from not just his brothers, but Val included.

"I'm surprised you used the equality symbol correctly," Donnie remarked wryly.

The youngest brother preened. "See, I'm not just charm and good looks-"

"You also know first grade math," Raph quipped, offering a now crabby-looking Mikey a thumbs up. Donnie and Val broke into snickers; Leo chuckled to himself, rolling his eyes once more. "Good for you."

"You're an ass-"

"Alllright-"

"Thank you."

The room fell silent at Val's voice. Her grateful, teary-eyed smile panned from one brother to the next; clutching the gift firmly against her chest. "Thank you... for this. This means... t-this-"

She blinked and a tear slipped past, prompting a concerned Raph to wrap an arm around her back and squeeze gently. There was that titter, again.

"Raph's done a brilliant job, arming you with such skill in such a short amount of time..."

Turning his gaze from his eldest brother to his girlfriend, Raph smiled down at her amorously. "I had a good student." he murmured, squeezing her again; causing her cheeks to flush once more.

Leo could now feel the strain of every muscle in his jaw as he forcibly maintained his smile. "So, we've been talking, and... we want to teach you the way of the Ninja-"

Val's eyes bugged out at that, breath catching in her throat.

"-like our... father did us-"

"A-are you serious?" The woman's lips finally tweaked upward as an astonished chuckle escaped them. "Are you- w-wait..." Her gaze ping-ponged between the brothers, once again. "Are you sure it isn't my birthday? Did I get bopped on the head, at some point-"

Mikey proceeded lightly tapping her forehead, "Bop"; to which she playfully pushed him away, with her good hand.

"You know what I mean..."

"No," Leo chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, this... this isn't a trick-"

"You're ready, babe," Raph assured gently. The others hummed and nodded in agreement.

Val gave her boyfriend a mordacious look, raising her injury to his eye level. "I think my beautiful hand would disagree with you-"

"That'll heal, Val," Don reassured, then shrugged. "Besides, you really should start exercising those muscles. L-lghtly, of course, and in short intervals. Recovery's faster that way-"

"Iiin other words..." Mikey interjected, smirking at his purple-banded brother's admonitory look. Ignoring them, Leo proceeded offering Val a hopeful smile.

"So... do you accept?"

Carefully watching her face, the leader pinpointed the exact moment that sliver of doubt melted away; a genuine grin finally gracing her features. "Hell yeah!"

He didn't have to fight to produce this smile. "Good... Now-"

Refusing to allow himself the chance to chicken out, the leader promptly rose from his chair, flashing Raph a knowing glance as he offered Val his hand. "I've one last thing for you."

.

.

.

"There's more??"

---

"Okay, now I know you're messing with me."

Val's anxious gaze darted between the opened door and Leo's beckoning hand. Despite the invitation, it was clear her mind was struggling to accept it.

He couldn't blame her.

She's never seen the inside of this room. There was never an actual conversation between them about it; she never asked and he never offered. But he knew she was curious; he always felt her eyes following him, whenever he excused himself from the group.

"Val," Leo offered a reassuring smile as he motioned, again, to the dimly-lit doorway. His stomach flip-flopped at her gaze finally settling upon it, brain seemingly losing the battle against her body at keeping the fascination at bay. "I promise I'm not messing with you..."

You should've told her this a long time ago...

"I trust you."

Tearing her focus away from the door, Val levelled him with a gawk so intense those brown orbs could've swallowed him whole.

I deserved that.

After a long, tremulous breath, the woman finally nodded; wrapping her arms around herself as she tentatively stepped inside.

Still lounged in the common area, Raph watched the pair disappear; relieved smile pulling at his lips...

"Brrr...!" Val squeezed herself tighter, feverishly rubbing heat back into her arms as she began wandering about the candle-lined room. Only a handful of dozens were lit, casting an eerie glow over them.

"It is freezing! ... Feels like somebody died in here..."

Leo winced. He knew she was being hyperbolic, but she couldn't have struck that nail head any harder if she tried...

Val turned, finding him standing by the table lining the furthest wall; matchbox in one hand, a singular match in the other. His face must've betrayed him as hers promptly fell, replacing perturbation with patent horror.

So, Raph hasn't told you everything...

"Oh, God..." A hand flew to her mouth as she gasped, half-stepping toward him. "Oh my- Leo, I-I'm so, so sorry-!"

Leo held up a placating hand. "Hey, i-it's okay. You didn't know-"

"It was here??"

Leo's eyes unwittingly flickered to the chabudai in the centre of the room; specifically, the bleach-stained patch of concrete directly proceeding it. The sight alone made his hands itch...

Val was suddenly looking very peaky.

"Are you alright-?"

"I'm- I'm fine-" she politely waved his hand away. "I just..." Squeezing her eyes shut and pressing a hand to her chest, the woman took a deep breath; holding it for a moment, before finally releasing.

"How much do you know about our father...?" Leo carefully ventured, when her eyes reopened.

"Not much," Val managed, clearing her throat of the gunk that had abruptly amassed there. She was now looking everywhere but at him. "Raph doesn't really talk about him..."

Leo sighed inwardly at that. Why does that not surprise me...

"...Is that him?"

Following her gaze, the leader realised she'd found the family portrait; a large, vintage-style frame hanging above another table and a cluster of partially melted pillar candles, to their left of the door. The meagre lighting provided little more than five silhouettes, but he presumed the centermost, non-turtle-like one was what drew her in.

"Yeah, that's him."

Igniting the match already in his hand, Leo proceeded lighting the remainder of the candles before them, earning a timid smile and an offer of assistance from his friend.

"Look at you all..." Val stared in awe at the now fully visible photo. Prying his lingering gaze from her face, Leo finally joined her. "Splinter has the sweetest smile... Raph looks like he has gas-"

A snort promptly escaped the terrapin. "Yeah, well..." He shrugged, then gave a wearied sigh as he attempted recalling the events which led to his brother's half-assed attempt at a 'smile'. "He wasn't in the greatest mood that day. I couldn't tell you exactly why though; it's been years since April took this..."

"That's a shame; he usually has a great smile..."

Leo felt pathetic; the temptation to enquire about his own appearance was damn near unbearable. He quickly switched topics.

"Splinter wasn't well..." The leader felt his jaw muscles tense as his face grew hot, and tears began brimming his eyes. Swallowing hard, to stave them off, he attempted continuing. "We didn't find out how unwell he was until... u-until..."

Leo abruptly tore his gaze from his father's face, levelling it at the ground.

No matter how hard he tried eclipsing that image with this happier, healthier... living one, his efforts always resulted in said image growing stronger; more grotesque...

Your fault.

Val's hand touching his shoulder thrust him back to reality. Looking up, her tender smile was looking back.

"You don't have to say anything else," she reassured, with a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for showing me this... and for trusting me."

If this were their story, he'd have obliged that voice urging him to finally close that distance between them.

But it wasn't, and isn't, and never will be.

So, you should

wake

the fuck

UP.

---

(Present)

Pain finally pried Leo from his slumber; pain that had begun as a dull ache, when exhaustion finally, mercifully took him, was suddenly splitting his skull in two.

The leader groaned softly as he hauled himself into a seated position; a sudden coldness blanketing him at the sensation of earth and grass between his fingers...

Tentatively, he turned his gaze outward; flinching at the familiar grave marker mere inches from his face.

The sacramental water dish and ladle toppled over as Leo scrambled to his feet, frantically wracking his brain for the steps that resulted in him spending the night at his father's grave...

His last clear memory of the past several hours was Maggie's inquisitive face and mew, as he padded resolutely through Val's apartment; positioning the bonsai and letter atop her dining table, seizing a final, mournful glance about the room he'd likely never see again, then fleeing into the night.

Nothing about the two-hour drive up here. Nothing about whether he'd run a red light, struck something or someone, triggered a speeding camera... nothing.

Like a spirit floating back into its body, Leo felt his consciousness settle into him as he contritely returned the dish and ladle to the mound, before finally turning to acknowledg his surroundings.

He was indeed where he thought he was.

It was midday, at the very earliest; the harsh, midday sun piercing through the oak's canopy like a kaleidoscope. Across the dirt driveway, flush against the hilltop, sat the charred remains of the bonfire; around which they merrily drank, danced and sang.

He could almost hear it, his last truly happy memory...

Something in the foreground snagged Leo's attention - the van's driver's side door, wide open; interior lights out.

He sighed dejectedly as he traipsed toward it, head throbbing and limbs still stiff from the uncomfortable sleep. If he'd done what he suspected, he'd be making the dreaded call much earlier than anticipated...

Snatching up the keys from the driver's seat, Leo successfully turned over the engine. But before his mind could grant him respite, his shell-cell - face-down on the passenger's side floor - abruptly began buzzing; thrusting his heart into his throat.

For several agonising moments, the leader watched it vibrate along the carpet; unable or unwilling to reach over and answer, he wasn't quite sure. Probably both. Most definitely both...

Finally, it fell still; that sliver of blue light disappearing instantly. Steeling himself, Leo climbed into the van then closed the door; scooping the device into his trembling hands.

Twenty-one notifications; eleven texts and ten missed calls. Two each from April and Casey, demanding to know what the hell was going on. Eight from Mikey, pleading for him to return home. Six from Donnie, expressing hurt at the absence of a goodbye...

Two from Raph; the most recent call, proceeding a short but strongly worded text:

[I ain't reading this shit. Be a man and pick up the fucking phone]

---

"Val, it's totally okay if you don't wanna talk right now. But I need you to at least unlock the door for me, okay? Please..."

.

.

.

Relief washed over Mol at the sound of shifting beyond the bathroom door, followed shortly by the click of the interior lock.

Gaze fixed on the handle, the raven-haired woman rose to her feet; heart lifting further when it tilted and the door finally creaked open, revealing a despondent Val on the other side.

It broke her heart. "Oh, Val-"

Mol opened her arms and attempted approaching, but her friend recoiled; hands shooting between them as she stepped away, shaking her head. Not even Maggie, who had darted for her human the literal moment she was able, could get an ounce of affection...

Mol sighed inwardly. Rejecting comfort: the telltale sign of a Val guilt spiral...

Once her friend was settled onto one end of the folded sofa bed, Mol lowered herself onto the other; reaching into the burning pocket of her jacket. "I've gotta confess something..."

She then produced a creased envelope, holding it out for Val to take. "Leo-"

The brunette's lip curled slightly at his name, but she accepted nonetheless; turning it in her hands from a marked distance. She paused when the etching came into view, lowering her wrists to her knees with an almost mournful look.

Mol continued. "He left that for you. I... w-when I saw it, I was gonna destroy it... It's obviously none of my business, but..." Shoulders slacking, she heaved a sigh. "I really, really don't like what's going on between you two-"

Val was suddenly staring at her, eyes wide, unblinking and welling with tears; jaw clenched, nostrils flared...

"Wha-" the raven-haired woman spluttered at the sound of frenzied tearing, then the window being shoved open. "What are you doing-"

Mol flinched when her friend abruptly pushed herself to her feet, beelining for the fire escape.

She watched the now obliterated letter be thrusted out into the street, before the window was promptly slammed shut.

---

Masterlist / Chapter 25

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda @mysticboombox @sketch-mer-6195 @jasminarts01 @obsessedftshit

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

[hullo! dropping in a honmei gift for Ace!! thanks!! ^^]

Ace is surprised with a hug from behind. "Boo! Haha, did I getcha? Here," A small, red box with a ribbon is placed in his hands. There's a clear window on the lid, and through it, he sees a slice of cherry pie. "They had your favorite in the cafeteria today! I made sure to snag a piece for you before they ran out, hehe." Now face-to-face with him, the butterflies in their stomach go wild, but they push forth.

"...I'm just gonna lay it all out: I like you. A lot, actually. I'm in love with you, and your goofy smile, and those stupid pretty eyes of yours..."

They're unable to look at him, but they grin as they continue. "Really, what's not to love about you? You're pretty cool, you're really funny, and you're an amazing friend... You make my days here in this crazy world so much easier, and a whole lot brighter. You have no idea how grateful I am for that..." They look up at him, smiling brightly. "I must be really lucky, having someone like you by my side."

"Call me a sap, or a cheeseball, or whatever; I don't care. I know teasing people like that is your love language." They laugh as they lightly, playfully punch his arm. "Still, it's nice to actually hear the words, right? So... I love you, Ace Trappola! With my whole heart!" They punctuate their confession with a quick kiss to the heart mark on Ace's face.

One tiny alteration was made (just so the events pan out a little more fluidly and dramatically); instead of the Reader placing the box in Ace's hands, Ace grabs it. Hope that's alright! .. BRUH 😭 Can I just say???? I’m totally shocked at how many gifts Ace got this year??? He ALONE claimed 10% of the interactions, and that’s more than Malleus fucking Draconia.

What the heck did Ace do the last year to steal all of your hearts???????? 🤡 This is a genuine question.

Sweet on You.

"Hey, watch it!" Ace groaned, playfully swatting at you with his notebook once you had released him. "Only dummies like Deuce would fall for such a lame jumpscare. I'm built different."

After delivering a light blow to your head, he tucked the notebook under an arm. "So, what's up? You need me or something' now that classes are out?"

Ace peered at the small beribboned red box you offered. Through a window of clear plastic film, he could see a slice of pie. The lattice crust was crisp and golden brown, the filling oozing with plump cherries.

His eyes lit up. "Sweet, score!! I was super bummed out since Professor Crewel--what a hardass--lectured me about goofing off in lab. He went on for so long that I was late for lunch period and totally missed my shot at grabbing a slice."

Ace greedily reached to intercept the snack. When both his grip and yours were locked onto the box, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach went wild and let loose. That physical connection, however brief, your impetus.

You liked him. In fact, you loved him. All your heartfelt thoughts and feelings spilled out, every last detail you loved about him put on display in the empty classroom.

His fingers, and his expression, froze.

You continued.

The more you spoke of him, the more confidence ballooned in your chest. A smile slowly crept onto your mouth, and you managed to wrench your eyes up to match Ace's.

"I must be really lucky, having someone like you by my side."

"... Hah?" Ace stole away the cherry pie. Jutting his chin out, he adopted a smug look—but failed to disguise the initial stutter to his response. “O-Of course you’d be into me. Duh, who wouldn’t be? Can't exactly fault ya. I'm some pretty hot stuff--I'm cheerful, funny, loyal, and super humble. I'm basically the perfect package!"

Lifting a hand, he lightly flicked you on the forehead. "I know you're madly in love with me and can't bear to be apart, but geez, don't go and say sappy stuff like that! You're seriously no shame and all cheese."

"I don't care," you laughed, taking his biting remarks in stride. You landed a punch on his arm. "I know teasing people like that is your love language."

"H-Hey, don't just go and assume..."

"I love you, Ace Trappola! With my whole heart!"

"... Ah."

Warmth blossomed from the mark stamped on his face. Its origin point, where you had laid your lips. His own mouth, and all the sass that flowed from it, silenced.

Your hearts skipped in unison as you beheld one another. The moment, magical.

Ace broke your gaze and quickly looked away.

Time seemed to stand still, letting loose of its hold only when he next spoke.

“………………………. You beat me to saying it,” Ace muttered. A coquettish pink had bloomed upon his cheeks. “It’s cool to have you around. Maybe… we could hang out even more. Not as friends, but as something more.”

His eyes—the very ones you loved—returned to you, bolder and more bright than ever before.

“… What do you say? Be my partner in crime?”

[mlmxreader]

One Of A Kind | König x m!reader

@corpsefry asked: i love your writing sm no one gets it ur my #1 writer forever and always🤞could i request könig x male reader with prompts "we could run away together" and "Here, have half my cigarette, it'll calm you down"

summary: König is always there to greet you after a flight, always.

tws: smoking

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

The pride of the RAF, a pilot with great tactics, both feared and celebrated, you were no stranger to danger and no stranger to being quite well known; the pride of the RAF, you could hardly ever get a few moments to yourself when you were on the air fields, always mobbed by pilots and recruits alike begging for your advice, your input. You wondered if rockstars felt as nervous and off-put as you did when you were surrounded by dozens of questions and requests. But at least there was one good thing about being back.

König. Always waiting next to Cohen, towering over the Air Chief Marshal with ease, yet completely and utterly immersed in their little conversations. Cohen didn't mind, always making casual conversation with your boyfriend as if he didn't have to crane his neck to look up at him, always walking away with a dull ache at the base of his neck.

Seeing König stood just off of the runway, arms folded and only wearing a surgical mask, was always what saved you; what kept you from being as venomous towards your own as you were towards the Americans next door who kept trying to encroach and trespass on RAF territory.

You and Perveen were always getting pulled aside by Cohen for that; reprimanded for scaring Americans, yet the two of you treated it like a sport... and if he was around, König was never one to say no to joining in. König liked the RAF for that, for including him in their games, for treating him like little else than one of their own; he appreciated it, not a lot of people did, and even if it was only because his boyfriend was one of their own, he was still grateful for the inclusion.

The laughs he let out when Perveen accused him of cheating due to his height were always hearty and full of giddiness, often coming closer to loud giggles than anything else. He never missed the way you smiled at him when he laughed like that; a look that always made him blush when he saw it.

So fond and so awestruck, like you were seeing the original 'Art Of War' texts by Sun Tzu, like you were gazing upon a masterpiece by Van Gogh. Like he was absolutely precious and priceless. One of a kind.

Today was no different, as you made your way towards the little smoking area near the runway, knowing that König and Cohen would be there; but to your surprise, Cohen was nowhere to be seen, although when you reached König, he immediately noticed your concern, and shrugged, his surgical mask hanging off of one ear.

"Here, have half my cigarette, it'll calm you down, mein Mann," he said, giving it to you and letting you take a few drags. "Cohen is doing Schlacht reports."

"Ah," you nodded. "Natürlich he is... du gut?"

"Ja," he smiled. "Und du?"

"Ja," you nodded back. "Glad there's no Soldaten on my tail for once... don't think I could handle signing another Autogramm."

From the office behind you, which you knew was Cohen's, you could hear 'God Ain't Gonna Getcha For That' by Shania Twain, and you grinned as you offered König your hand.

"Tanzen?"

"Nein," he laughed softly, shaking his head. "Not to Shania Twain."

You scoffed, doing your best not to roll your eyes as you watched him finish off the cigarette before he sat on the bench behind him, tapping his foot to the beat. You raised your brow.

"You danced with me to Cradle Of Filth the other day..." you grumbled playfully. "And you're tapping your foot."

"Nein ist nein," König shook his head again, a fond smile on his lips. "Nicht Shania Twain."

"Suit yourself," you chuckled, sitting down beside him and letting a soft hum escape your throat. "Did you play with Perveen?"

"Oh, ja," he nodded. "We chased off sieben Amerikaner today."

"Seven?" You pursed your lips, more than impressed. "Fair enough! Most me and Perveen got was fünf."

König laughed softly, such a sound making you look at him so fondly; like he was one of a kind, an absolute masterpiece and anything you could ever wish for. Like he meant everything to you.

"I'm going out for drinks with Horangi," he cleared his throat, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. "Would you like to join?"

"He's your friend," you pointed out. "You don't always want your boyfriend there with you... I'm good."

"Really?" He furrowed his brows a little.

"Yeah," you reassured, putting your hand on his thigh. "König, our ketubah is in a month. I'll be your husband after we've signed it and been under the chuppah... trust me, I'll be fine if you go out for a few drinks with your mate."

"Natürlich," König hummed, making himself comfortable on the bench as he sighed softly. "Aber... what if you get hounded by recruits?"

"I can deal with it," you shrugged. "Or did you forget that I've got Perveen and Bashar on base with me?"

"My bad," he murmured, still smiling. "Mein Kampfflieger."

"Immer," you agreed softly. "Mein Scharfschütze."

"Und, the flight," he looked at you with those big old puppy dog eyes that you could never say no to. "Es war gut?"

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat to try and get more comfortable, hoping that you wouldn't get splinters in your ass through your uniform. "Sehr. We were only messing around with the Red Arrows, so... nothing groß. Thankfully."

"After our ketubah, and after we've stood under the chuppah," he started, "we could run away together. Settle somewhere."

"Nein, mein geliebter," you said softly. "Maybe one day, aber... not now."

"Alright," König agreed. "Ten years?"

"If we're both still alive," you took his hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. "If we're both still alive in ten years, we'll run off together... how does Tschanigraben sound?"

"Oh, sehr gut!" He beamed. "Tschanigraben it is!"

"Y'know, König," you reached over to press a kiss to his temple. "You really are one of a kind."

He couldn't keep the grin from his face.