#and everyone just stops and looks at the spectacle in shock

[talxns]

some thug getting lucky and striking a hard blow to robin and the fighting just suddenly stops. because when the dust clears and he’s not jumping between shadows and flipping too quickly to catch, when he’s lying in a crumpled little pile on the ground, they can see that the kid is like. twelve years old. and the reality of seriously injuring a child can be really heavy, even for your average hired goon. and of course they’d be terrified of batman’s retaliation but is it not also extremely unsettling to see Vengeance, The Night, Batman look so utterly human when he notices and rushes to start emergency medical intervention

[vioartemis]

Falling for her

(Amber Freeman x fem! reader x Tara Carpenter)

Summary: Amber reveals herself as one of the killers, and you, her girlfriend, are as shocked as everyone else. A year after all this shit, you and Tara become closer, eventually leading to something more than friendship... Part 1 || Part 2 Warnings: blood, injuries, death of characters, slight angst a/n: might do a part 2 👀 (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Since the beginning you defended her, telling everyone she was incapable of killing someone. Telling them she wasn't like that. Telling them they were wrong.

Turns out you were the one who was wrong this all time.

And even now that she shot Liv in the head you couldn't believe it. You simply couldn't.

You were frozen in place, incapable of running away with the others. You only moved because Amber dragged you to her room, along with Tara, whom she taped and put in her closet before kneeling in front of you.

"You okay baby..? I know I lied, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to hurt you I promise"

She whipped your tears away with her thumbs and placed a peck on your lips.

"You're coming with me after this right? We'll run away from Woodsboro and start a new life together, just the two of us. No more Ghostface, no more blood, no more Tara."

As far as you could remember, she had always been jealous of Tara. Not that you felt anything for her, you loved Amber and her only, but your girlfriend didn't seem to understand that.

You fought a lot because of that, which led you to spend more and more time away from her. More and more time with Tara. You knew it wouldn't fix anything, but you couldn't handle your girlfriend's jealousy 24/7. You needed space.

“P-please d-don’t hurt her… I’ll come with you… j-just… leave her alone… please…”

“Oh baby… you’re so kind even in that situation… but I can’t let her live, she’d snitch on me and the police would be after us…”

She smiled at you. Not the smile that made you fall for her. A crazy, psychotic smile.

“Now come with me baby, you wouldn’t want to miss the spectacle, right?”

She gently took your hand and guided you downstairs before dragging you to the kitchen, when she told you to wait for her.

You wanted to run away the second she left, but your legs didn’t seem to agree. All you could do was cry on the floor, re thinking everything, every time Amber told you she had something to do, probably killing someone.

Killing someone with the same hands she touched you with.

Knees against your chest, you couldn’t stop crying. Your eyes were all puffy and red. Your chest hurt. Your heart hurt.

When Amber got back, gripping Sidney’s hair, followed by Richie and Sam, you were still there. Not even looking up.

“Y/n..? You… you knew..?”

That made you tilt your head up slightly.

“S-Sam I swear I didn’t know… I would never hurt anyone… let alone Tara…”

She looked at you with suspicious eyes, along with Sidney.

“N-no.. I.. please you have to believe me..”

“Yeah, believe her.” Richie said, grabbing your arm to make you stand up. “Maybe that’ll help you trust her”

He sunk his knife into your abdomen, five times, his other hand on your mouth to prevent you from screaming. He threw you back onto the floor, as Amber entered the room.

“Okay Gale’s here, now we can-” she stopped as she saw you bleeding on the floor “Y/n!”

She rushed to you, a worried look on her face. She took off her costume and tried to bandage you up with it, to stop the bleeding.

“What the fuck did you do to her?!”

She turned to Richie, glaring daggers at him.

“Touch her again and I will fucking kill you."

She kneeled in front of you, gently cupping your cheeks.

"I'm sorry baby... he wasn't supposed to hurt you... y-you're gonna be fine don't worry... we'll end this quickly..."

She kissed your lips softly, before standing up.

You didn't see nor hear anything after that, barely conscious due to the amount of blood you were losing. When you opened your eyes, you were alone in the kitchen.

You could hear fight noises coming from the hallway. You stood up painfully. Once at the door, you felt your heart drop for the second - or was it third? - time this day.

Amber and Tara were fighting. She was going to kill her. You had to do something.

You managed to get in front of Tara just as Amber was about to stab her.

"Baby what are you doing...? You should rest you're not-"

"Amber... please stop... you can't kill her... she's our friend... they all were..."

You could see she was hurt. She thought you would be on her side, even after her reveal. But you weren't. You'd rather protect Tara than stay with her.

"Okay then..." she said

You thought you convinced her. But you were wrong. There was even more craziness in her black eyes.

"If I can't have you no one will."

She raised her knife, but before she could do anything, she got shot in the head. You watched in horror as she fell, remember all the moments you spent together.

You fell on your knees, heartbroken at the sight of your girlfriend's lifeless body. Even if she tried to kill you at the end, you knew she loved you.

Tara placed herself in front of you so you didn't have to see Amber any longer, thinking it wasn't good for you. You looked up at her, tears in your eyes, before pulling her into a hug she gave back.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

After "the incident", you spent a month at the hospital, in a room you shared with Tara. You were more than happy to have her by your side, and she felt the same about you.

Sidney came to visit you once, before going back home with her husband and children. She apologized for killing Amber, to what you replied she saved both your life and Tara's so there was no need for excuses.

Six months after that night, you moved out of Woodsboro with Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad. You all agreed on the fact that to heal and move on, you needed to get the fuck out of this city.

New York was your new home, and you wouldn't deny you were doing much better since you moved in with Tara and Sam.

Eight months after your arrival at New York, you found yourself thinking about Tara a lot more than just a friend would.

Was it bad that you were falling for her, only a year after Amber died..? Did it make you a bad person? What would Tara think about that? Was there even a chance she'd like you back?

"Y/n? I've been calling you for like ten minutes, are you okay?" Sam said as she entered your room

"Sorry, I was... thinking"

"You want to talk about it..?"

"If you don't mind listening.."

She sat beside you on the bed, taking your hand in hers.

"Hey, remember what we said when we left Woodsboro? I'm here for you, I'll always be"

"Thanks..."

You gave her a grateful smile.

"Now tell me everything"

"It’s Tara… I-I think I'm falling for her..."

The older girl looked at you with a slight smile.

"You have every right to fall for someone you know? That means you're over her, you're healing"

"Yeah..?"

"Plus I'm pretty sure she likes you back, given the way she looks at you and talk about you"

She squeezed your hand slightly.

"C'mon now, dinner time"

A few days had passed since you talked to Sam. It was night, and you were on the balcony, watching the sky and the city, when you felt a blanket falling on your shoulders.

“I thought you might get cold..”

Tara’s sweet voice made you smile as you turned to face her.

“But you don’t even wear a jacket! Tara..”

You pulled her closer to you, wrapping the blanket around her too, before realizing how close you were now.

You only ever saw her freckles from afar, but now you could see them perfectly. She had more than you thought.

She was so pretty, face illuminated with the faint light of the city, head slightly tilted up to look at you.

“Y/n…”

Her eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to your lips before going back to your eyes.

Neither of you said a word, yet you understood each other. You placed your hands on her waist, while she placed hers behind your neck, pulling you close, her eyes never leaving yours.

She stopped, only a few inches away from your lips, making sure you really wanted it to happen. You were the one closing the gap between you.

One of her hands went in your hair, soft lips moving against yours tenderly in a passionate kiss.

You could kiss her for hours, and she could say the same. You stayed here for a while, only pulling away when the lack of air forced you to.

No words were needed, and none was said during the next hour you spend on the balcony. You watched the stars, her head resting on your shoulder while she intertwined your fingers.

When it started raining, you both returned to your rooms after one last kiss.

You sat on your bed, smiling like an idiot, while Tara did the same on the floor.

She took a bag from under her bed, opening it silently, and taking something out of it.

“Now that I have you..” she brushed the white mask with her thumb “no one else ever will”

[Next part]

[yurinaa-world]

Hii! so today is white day and I was wondering if I could get Sunday and jing yuan headcanons with their partner on white day.

thank you and have a great day/night 💞

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Sunday & Jing Yuan x Gender-neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: spending white day together

Warnings: Fluff, spelling mistakes,

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

He's a romantic man as well. Only want to do the best for you on this very special day. Showing up at your home with the fresh flowers that have been picked from the ground this very morning once you’ve taken the flowers, he just places a feather light on your hand almost as if it’s delicate like glass.

After that, you just spend some time together, but not until you see an event that piques both of your interests. Just some random event hosted for lovers to have a good time yet the big thing they advertised was a simple classical dance.

It's a pretty basic thing ever and not the first to be done but if you just wanna go for the fun of it, it wouldn’t hurt to dance and have some fun right?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“A dance, my dear.” Sunday holds his hand out for you to take, a charming smile on his face.  His eyes twinkle at you, and your heart races in response. You give him a timid smile as he takes your hand in his his other hand going to your waist, with yours going onto his shoulder.

Slow dancing with each other, the gentle sway of your bodies as well as the melody that fills the air around you both is almost hypnotic.  

Your cheeks tingle from his sweet touch, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest. Your mind wanders off as you enjoy the moment.  Before he spins you around, mimicking the bright smile you have on your face "I'm so grateful to have you." You whisper, and you begin to blush.  His eyes light up with adoration as they look into yours. 

  Your heart does flips as he looks at you with such loving affection in his eyes.  He leans in closer and his lips brush over your cheek. The feeling of his breath against your skin causes your stomach to turn. he smiles at your reaction.

“Me? I am lucky enough to have you look my way.”  his soft voice sends shivers down your spine. You feel yourself blush more as he kisses you the lips softly, before leaning back once more. 

"I'll still love you no matter how much time passes between us."

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

He’s so romantic about it, even taking a day off (skipping out) from work, just so could plan out the entire day with you and have some fun together.

He planned everything out for you, his day off, going to the flower shop and the owner giving you such beautiful flowers since it's a special day, or how the owner of the chocolate store just randomly gives you the most expensive chocolate box saying “It's a romantic day, you deserve to be happy.” Everyone been saying that all day?

But the gifts don’t stop, jing yuan himself gives you something so special, a ring that is made of gold, making your heart jump. It looks so expensive. He didn’t have to! But you can’t take it back now or else he’ll get pouty with you, along with the excuse that “It’s a special day to show love and you must accept it.”

Last but not least, watching fireworks together since every year the designs that fireworks make in the sky, makes you wish the day would never end.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Bursts of colour paint the night sky, each explosion accompanied by a symphony of crackles and booms. The vibrating colours mix to a spectacle of an image in the sky.

 You wanted this day to never day. you could see the smile on Jing Yuan's face but it was directed towards the beautiful fireworks at you.  He looked at you with that look that always made your heart race, like a thousand fireflies flying around. 

“Aren’t you going to even look at the fireworks?” You can’t help but ask, ah..is there something on your face or something?  Is that why he’s staring so much? “Want a better look?” he smiles —to your shock—picking you up from your feet as if you weighed nothing. 

 Jing Yuan’s strong grip on your waist with your legs automatically wraps themselves around his waist. the bright gold firework went off, illuminating his face—he looked so happy— you couldn’t help but give him some of your love–even if it’s just a fraction, he’ll still enjoy it–just leaning in and kissing him on the lips whilst your arms tightly wrapped themselves around his neck. 

Just because the fireworks end doesn’t mean you have to.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[prismuffin]

OH MY FUCKING GOD!! Okay! I just got off work and thought of the funniest thing!!! So context, I'm 5'4ft! König is 6'9ft! So how would he react to a short male reader climbing up on his shoulders to get a better view??

The 141 just chilling on a watch or something, and the reader is just like, "Damn it, I need to get a better view." And without any further explanation, he just uses the straps and gear König has on to stand on his shoulders.

-Crow

what a cute dynamic LMFAO first MW ask and it’s coincidentally at the same time im playing the campaign- anyways I think that-

König would probably be quite shocked initially I mean obviously he wasn’t expecting it. Your 5’4 self is relatively short among the other men your involved with, they all practically tower over you with minimal effort. So when there’s a cool firework show and everyone’s kinda standing in the way it’s a bit hard for you to see the grand spectacle everyone’s ooo-ing and aww-ing about. You looked up and saw probably the tallest one of your friends, König, standing there with his arms crossed. His tactical gear has many straps that seemed to be almost made for climbing. He turned quickly as he felt a tight tug on his back, the feeling of a foot…? Was felt on his lower calf. But when he turned he wasn’t met with the sight of you, no, he heard you instead. “Stop moving Im trying to see!” It was then that he realized that you were straight up climbing on him. He’d ask you why you were doing- almost stuttering out the words in absolute shock of the event unfolding before him. After you succeeded in your mission at climbing the mountain that is König, he’d simply ask if you were “happy now” as you practically sat on his shoulders. You’d just nod and smile at him before enjoying the rest of the show. You both definitely got some weird looks from the rest of KorTac.

Part 2

———

Directory

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 03

Words: 4,2k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem (twt)

Warnings for this chapter: blood, abusive parents (Satoru’s parents are awful)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Author’s note: thank you so much to everyone who is liking, rebloging and commenting on this fic of mine, it makes me really happy. Thank you 💕

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Links to the fic: wattpad | ao3

Two weeks had passed since you and Gojo became project partners, two weeks since the incident at the store, and two weeks since he offered to help you study. You initially refused, but things had changed quite a bit in those two weeks.

Gojo had remained as irritating as ever, but at times he showed a surprisingly kind side, making you doubt even of your own existence.

However, today, you had a strange sensation.

Observing the incessant glances and hushed whispers from the group in front, you felt an escalating desire to grab the stapler positioned before you and hurl it towards their heads, accompanied by a stern command to focus on their own affairs. The classroom atmosphere had been permeated by this spectacle for a good 20 minutes, and the source of their distraction was unmistakable – Satoru Gojo, seated right beside you, had become the center of attention.

Turning your attention away from the nosy group ahead, you focused intently on your screen, scouring for relevant information to contribute to the project. However, a gnawing unease prevented you from fully concentrating.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Gojo diligently searching for information as well. To your surprise, Gojo appeared unusually serene and subdued today. He had even arrived with a portion of his work completed, a contrast that left you feeling somewhat embarrassed, considering you hadn't even begun your part.

In your defense you would say that you needed to prioritize other works, whose due date was earlier.

But back to the topic you suppressed a nervous impulse, taking a piece of paper from one of your notebooks, uncertain of how to proceed.

“I accept your deal”

You jotted down the note, folded it discreetly, and left it on Gojo's keyboard without meeting his gaze. Why did your heart race so intensely over a simple study proposal? It shouldn't be this complicated, so why were you feeling like that? You observed as Gojo picked up the paper, unfolding it. What expression adorned his face now? Likely one of his irritating, confident smiles. Pushing these thoughts aside, you attempted to refocus on your task—searching for project-related information.

“When would you like to meet?” A shock ran through your body when you felt Gojo's voice in your ear.

You turned your face to meet Gojo's, just inches from yours, he was close, too close. From that distance you could clearly see every detail of his skin, even admiring the blue of his eyes even more. Your breaths mixed with each other. You opened your mouth to close it again instantly, you were speechless at that moment and you felt immense heat on your cheeks.

Gojo moved his eyes watching you, as if he wanted to memorize every little detail of your face. And that was just causing your nerves to kick into high gear. Could he look away? Could he blink? Could he just not look at you?

“You…” You tried to formulate words but apparently your brain didn't want to work at that very moment. Why? You wanted to scream.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "I…?"

“Too close.” You were able to finally say.

Gojo moved away a little but without stopping to look at you. “So when?”

You looked at him and away. “This… this Sunday? I don’t have work that day.”

“Okay, in my apartment then.” He stopped looking at you and went to his computer.

“Wait, what?” You tried not to say it out loud.

Gojo looked back at you. “You have a better place.”

No you didn’t, but his apartment? That was very intimate, wasn’t it? Shit you were getting nervous and your heart was pounding on your chest like crazy. Stop.

“No…” You said defeated. “Okay, at your apartment on Sunday.” You said quietly so that only he could hear you, you didn't want anyone else to be aware of that meeting.

Gojo nodded in acknowledgment and returned his attention to his work, his demeanor still serious and distant. Despite agreeing to study together, a sense of discomfort lingered in your stomach. Gojo seemed too reserved, too distant.

The sudden ring of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie. Had the class already ended? Lost in your thoughts, you hadn't realized how quickly time had passed. Hastily, you began packing your belongings into your backpack, noticing Gojo rising from his seat and exiting the classroom.

You shouldn't have cared about him leaving without a farewell or any of his usual jokes. Since being paired up, you'd wished for some distance, yet now, as he reverted to his usual self, it bothered you—and the worst part was that peculiar feeling lingered.

Leaving the class with your backpack, you scanned both directions, searching for the tall figure with white hair. At the end of the hallway, you spotted him, hands in his pockets, head down, strolling away. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of something indescribable.

Go!

Your heart urged you to move, to step forward, yet your legs remained rooted to the spot, your mind screaming at you to be sensible and not be deceived. Despite your internal turmoil, you fixated your gaze on him once more, only to see him accompanied by a tall, slender girl who seemed to exude wealth from a distance. You rolled your eyes as you observed her clinging to Gojo, his smile directed at her with a gallant air.

Turning sharply on your heels, you set off in the opposite direction, relieved that you hadn't succumbed to the impulse to approach him like a desperate puppy. Perhaps you'd watched too many American films, constructing elaborate scenarios in your head, painting Gojo as the mastermind of a cruel game, indifferent to your feelings and merely toying with you.

But why should it matter if that were true? You'd never harbored any fondness for him anyway, so why should his intentions affect you?

Walking through the corridors of your faculty, you made a conscious effort to push those unsettling thoughts to the back of your mind. Your priority was to focus on your next class. Fortunately, you were scheduled to be with Kyoko, and it happened to be your favorite class: the laboratory. It provided a welcomed opportunity to unwind and engage in unhurried conversations with Kyoko throughout the hour.

Most days in the laboratory involved analyzing products provided by the teacher to observe their reactions to different mechanical effects and subsequently creating detailed reports. The benefit was the option to work in pairs, and naturally, you and Kyoko were like two magnets – inevitably sticking together.

Stepping into the familiar laboratory, the customary scent greeted your senses. Scanning the room, you spotted your best friend already donned in her gown and gloves. She greeted you with a smile, indicating the seat beside her. Grabbing your own robe and gloves, you approached her, exchanging cheerful waves. After placing your backpack under the table and laying your notebook on top, you shed your jacket and began to put on your robe.

“When are we going to your apartment to start getting your things from it?” She turned around to look at you.

“On Sunday…” You realized it that instant. “Fuck… I told Gojo we would be studying together on Sunday.” You closed your eyes.

You didn’t have a lot of things in your old apartment but you needed to clean it to leave it perfect so the owner wouldn’t complain.

“Suguru asked me out that day.” She whispered and you looked at her with your eyes wide open.

“What? And you were going to cancel it?”

“Yeah, I mean you asked me first for your help, it wouldn’t be fair for me to go out on a date after telling you that I was going to help you out, right?”

“Kyoko… sometimes you are just too good hearted. Listen.” You hold her hand. “I will try to find another moment to study with him. And you, my sunshine will go out on that date.” You smiled and she smiled back. “And you will have the best time.”

“I love you.” She said. “Sometimes I think we should get married.”

You throw your head backwards and laugh. “It’s almost like we are married. And I love you too.”

“By the way, you haven’t met Shoko right?” You tilted your head, Shoko? “Oh you will love her, she is friends with Suguru and Satoru.”

“She is the girl that was with you in the picture.”

Kyoko nodded. “She is studying medicine and she is really cool, you will like her.”

You hummed. “I’m going to get jealous if you keep talking like that about her.” You joked.

“You know you are my only one.” She hugged you in a dramatic way.

“Okay class!” The teacher entered the classroom, making you and Kyoko pay attention to her. “Today we will be…”

You and Kyoko got to work with what your teacher had sent you. While you did the necessary procedures, Kyoko took sketches and photos so he could make the report later.

You left the sample in front of Kyoko, so that she could take a photo of it, and you sat on the stool, removing the quanta that had left your sweaty hands. You grabbed your phone and went to chat with Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

Gojo, I can’t meet up with you on sunday, we will need to reschedule it

I hope you understand it

Efficiently utilizing your time, you left your phone upside down and powered up your PC. With the tasks completed and photos transferred, you and Kyoko delved into crafting the report. By the time the class concluded, you had already covered more than half of the report, allowing you to ease into the remaining work after returning from work.

You walked besides Kyoko, while listening to her complaining about one of her teachers and how he wanted them to make an essay of at least 10 pages talking about liquid crystals. You knew the concept, you had shared the first year with her and some classes now. But Kyoko had chosen to continue studying modern physics, she was clear that she wanted to dedicate herself to education after this.

You, on the other hand, had opted for astrophysics, classic. But since you were little it was a topic that you had been passionate about, you have the vague memory of your mother talking to you about it and explaining concepts to you, which at that time you did not understand and seemed like fantasy to you.

It was over the years that you discovered that your mother had also studied astrophysics and that in fact she had become a good astrophysicist. But meeting your disgusting father and everything that happened afterward ended up sinking her. At least that's what your grandmother told you, but she had always been reluctant to talk about it, first with the excuse that you were too young to understand it and then telling you that it was better if you didn't know more.

You entered the cafeteria and went to get a coffee, today you couldn't eat with Kyoko, Haibara had asked you if you could go earlier to replace him.

You grabbed your coffees and sat down in your favorite place. You took a sip of your coffee and noticed Kyoko's gaze. You knew there was something strange about you and that the question was on the tip of his tongue.

“Nothing happens Kyoko.” You said before her saying anything. “I can tell you were about to ask me what’s going on and nothing is happening.”

“And I know clearly you are lying here.” She said, grabbing coffee.

You sighed defeated. “I hate you…”

“You don’t.” She smiled, showing her teeths. “Now what’s going on in your little head.”

You pursed your lips. "Gojo was strange today, that's what. But it doesn't matter and I don't care."

She leaned on her hand and looked at you with those eyes she had. "Are you sure you don't mind?" You nodded your head. "From the moment you entered the laboratory, you have been thinking about that." You turned your head to avoid her gaze. "I don't think you don't care."

You snort. “It doesn't matter, he just behaved again as if I didn't exist. He's probably with that long-haired girl who smiled so stupidly at him."

Kyoko looked at you with his mouth half open and whispered your name. "Are you jealous?"

Are you jealous? Those three words caused you to almost choke on your coffee, almost because you ended up spitting it all out on the cafeteria table.

“Kyoko! You are crazy?”

“I’m not the one that got jealous over another girl.”

“I was not jealous! I was angry because he was being a dick.”

“Sure and why does it matter to you?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t stand him.”

“I… ugh leave me alone Kyoko.” You were so frustrated, irritated and angry.

You were not jealous about Satoru Gojo, you just couldn’t. You were just worried, worried because he was your partner. That’s it, he was your project partner and you just were worried. Jealous? Please that's nonsense, you weren’t jealous over that tall, slim, beautiful woman, that was nothing like you. You weren’t, you weren’t.

“I’m leaving.” You stood up.

“You didn't get angry did you?”

“I could never get angry at you, Kyoko.” You reassured her and she smiled. “But never say that again, because I’m not jealous, it’s just that, my dislike for him is just a little bit smaller okay!?” Kyoko pouted and waved goodbye to you.

You took your phone out of your jacket and looked for your headphones in your backpack, you needed to listen to music and escape a little. When you turn on the phone, the notification jumps to a new message.

Pain in the ass

Where are you?

You rolled your eyes. What was what he wanted now?

You to Pain in the ass

Leaving the cafeteria. Why?

Not even 10 seconds passed when a new message appeared in the chat.

Pain in the ass

Wait there, I’m coming

Now he wanted to see you? You huffed and rolled your eyes, putting your phone back in your pocket. The question is, why did you stay and wait for him? You had agreed to meet Haibara in 45 minutes, if you didn't leave now, you would be late. But something prevented you from leaving. You hated it.

“Birdie!” The stupid nickname again.

“Stop calling me that Gojo.” You said with a serious face.

“Hello.” Suguru next to him greeted you with a smile.

“Hi Suguru.”

“Why do you call him by his first name and me?” You rolled your eyes and ignored him.

“Is Kyoko inside?” You nodded and he smiled. “Well, then I’m going in. Bye.”

“I will break his jaw if he ever makes Kyoko cry.” You said when he was gone.

Gojo laughed besides you, until he saw your annoyed face. “Yeah… mhm why can't we meet on Sunday?”

“I need to take care of something.”

“What thing?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You looked away from his gaze.

“I can help you and we can study while I help you.”

“I don’t think moving out of an apartment and cleaning it’s a very good place for a studying session.”

“I think it’s an excellent studying session.” He clapped. “Then I will see you on Sunday. We will clean and study.”

You sighed, suddenly you missed the Gojo from that morning. “Alright… Now I have to leave.” You turned around and started walking away from him.

“Wait!” You felt Gojo grabbing your wrist to which you immediately pushed her away. What was he doing? “Sorry.” He took his hand away and he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I… just have a good day birdie.”

You nodded and thanked him. Surely he had hit his head today or something? First he comes to class with his spirits on the rocks and then he becomes a complete introvert?

Sat next to the window, on the bus, you pressed play on your playlist. You and Gojo had not even been companions for a week, but in this short time you had realized one thing and that was that it was extremely difficult to read. As much as he pretended to be extremely happy and always wanted to be laughing, there was something he was hiding. And today you had been able to read him a little, his blue eyes did not shine with the same intensity as other times, they were sad.

But why were you so intrigued to know what he was hiding? To know him more?

“What’s up with that face?” Haibara talked next to you.

“Nothing, just college things.”

He nodded. “Thank you again for coming earlier.”

“You know you don’t have to thank me.”

Haibara has been working here since before you arrived, the establishment belonged to his grandparents and since he was little he had been helping them on an ongoing basis, but when he entered university he decided to start working from time to time to help his parents cover college expenses. He had been the one who had taught you everything that had to do with the store and who had helped you balance your schedules. During the two years you had been there he had done a lot for you, which is why you didn't mind covering for him for a few hours from time to time.

“Then I will see you tomorrow.” He talked from the door. “Take care!”

“Bye!” You waved back at him.

Satoru Gojo pov

Satoru gripped the basketball tightly, but his heart wasn't in the game. Despite the sunny day and the familiar rhythm of the court, he couldn't shake off his low spirits. Following a visit to the grocery store, he returned to his parents' home, only to find his grandparents had departed. However, their absence didn't spare him from the impending lecture and ensuing conflict. It felt like déjà vu, as if he were six years old again, facing the consequences of breaking a plate. All he yearned for was the freedom to live life they way he wanted.

“You are acting strange today.” Suguru threw the ball back at him.

Satoru took it with both hands and sat on the ground, letting out a sigh. "I guess." He murmured. “Yesterday I was at my parents’ house again. I was there nearly two weeks ago and they called me again.”

“Ugh, I can imagine why you are like this.” Suguru sat next to her. “They are still beating you up for not having studied law? Or the fact that you are still single.”

“I guess both.” He laid down on the grass. “They want me to go with Utahime, as my date, to the charity dinner we are having next month.”

Suguru laughed. “Utahime would probably end it all rather than go with you somewhere as your date.”

“She would probably killed me.” He sighed. “Mei Mei approached me this morning, I also think her parents have told her something and she wants to be my date.”

“Well at least you know that with Mei Mei you wouldn't end up dead, maybe with less money.” Suguru joked.

Satoru grabbed his hair in resignation. “Ugh, just no. I don't want to go with anyone…”

“But there is someone.” Satoru looked at his friend.

Yeah, of course there was someone.

“Yeah… but if Utahime kills me, she would probably kill, revive me and then kill me again.”

“For how long have you been in love with her?”

“Suguru, shut up.” Satoru reproached him, closing his eyes. “To be in love is a big thing, I just have a crush on her.”

“You even used to say she was an angel.”

“And what did you want me to think if I was 6 years old and she disappeared so suddenly?” He opened his eyes and looked at the blue sky. “But…” He stood up and looked at his friend. “She doesn't seem to even remember me and for two years the only thing I've had from her has been to ignore me. The good thing is that she has accepted the deal I proposed. So I will try hard.”

“What deal?”

“She sucks in one of the subjects we share, and I am the best, of course.” He said arrogantly to which Suguru rolled his eyes. “I proposed teaching her for the exam that we have two weeks and if she passes, she would accept a date with me.”

“Are you telling me, she accepted that?”

“Of course she did. Look at my cute face.”

“More like your annoying ass.” Suguru pushed him back.

“So you and Kyoko are going out on a date right?” Satoru sat back and started playing with the ball.

“Yeah, I asked her out.” Suguru tried to hide the fact he was getting red but failed as his best friend started to laugh. “Satoru, don't make me punch.”

“Sorry sorry, but it’s kinda funny seeing you getting nervous over a girl.”

They both started to joke around as if they were 8 years old again, until Satoru's phone started ringing making them both sit back down on the grass. Satoru pulled the phone out of his pocket and groaned as he read the name on the screen.

Father

Hearing his friend's growl, Suguru looked askance at his best friend's screen and understood his reaction. He patted him on the back, trying to calm him down but he knew that as soon as he took that call Satoru would probably lose his nerve.

“Hello father.”

“Son, you’re mother and I need to talk with you. Please come to our house.” And he hanged out.

Satoru looked at the screen of his phone without saying a word. He felt like a tool for his parents, nothing else than that, just a tool.

“Satoru…” He heard Suguru calling him, bringing him back to reality.

“Huh?” He looked at his friends and back at the phone. “I have… I have to go.” He stood up.

“Satoru, call me if anything happens. Okay?” He nodded at his friends and went straight at his car.

As he drove, Satoru secretly wished for endless traffic, hoping to delay his arrival at his parents' house. Yet, time slipped away unnoticed, and suddenly, he found himself standing before them. Avoiding eye contact, his family instructed him to sit down, signaling the impending discussion of serious matters.

“You will be dropping your degree as soon as this term is over.” His father spoke.

“What?” Satoru blurted out, trying not to sound too abrupt.

“What you heard son.” His mother took the cup in front of her to drink from it.

“I don’t want to.”

“It’s not about what you want or you don’t.”

His father spoke coldly. “If not, what our family needs. And what our family needs is an heir to take over the position that your grandfather will leave when he retires.” He looked at Satoru. “We were pretty good when you tricked us and signed up for that degree behind everyone's back. But it’s ending now."

“You can not do that! I’m an adult, you can’t not…”

“Son, don't raise your voice.” Her mother spoke. “How can you be so insolent? We have given you everything you have ever wanted since you were born and when we ask you to do this for YOUR family you refuse?”

“Everything I ever wanted?” Satoru laughed.

Satoru couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the irony of the situation, what bad joke was that? He had been spoiled from the moment he came into this world, all the toys, all the clothes, everything he wanted he had. But when he wanted to have his parents there for him he didn't have that.

“What type of joke is that mother?” Satoru looked at her. “You have given me everything I wanted? Where were the loving parents, eh? Where? You filled me with consent and gifts but never with what a child really needed, which was his parents.” Satoru raised his voice.

“Insolent child, how dare you raise your voice like that at your mother.” His father got up from the couch and approached Satoru.

"Are you going to hit me like you did when I was little?" Satoru smirked. “I guess those were the only times I've felt any physical contact from you.” And the first slap came, making Satoru's face turn around.

“Dear…” She muttered to her husband.

“If he doesn’t understand it the good way, he’ll have to come to his senses the hard way.” He said and another punch fell on Satoru's face.

Satoru remained still, realizing that any action on his part would only escalate the situation further. He endured the onslaught of blows, each one landing with painful precision. Blood trickled from his lip and nose as the beating came to an end. Despite his mother's call for a servant to tend to him, Satoru rose from the ground, determined to leave.

“Son, as soon as this term is over it’s over and there is no way back.”

Satoru bit his lip. It hurt.

He left the house but not before hearing his mother's lament.

“If only we could have had another child.”

Satoru took his phone out of his pocket and sent a message to his best friend.

Satoru to Suguru 🐉

Let’s hang out !!

I need a drink

Suguru 🐉

You never drink

Did something happen?

Satoru sighed and looked at himself in the car mirror. It would leave a mark, for sure.

Note: comment if you want to be added to the tag list

Tag list: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa

[siremasterlawrence]

My Personal Virtual Transition

I won a weird competition to use a Spiralistix virtual reality A+ glasses at the laboratory I am assigned to go to and I pack my bags to head to London when I am greeted by a the limo driver.

The limo is rather bare all that I see is a less then twin like bed I lay down in when a pair of the goggles pop down and I place them on my head instantly a light flashes in my eyes.

I fall deep a sleep as my mind transfers over to the mainframe of the device leaving me in a pitch black room and I am left in darkness until a ball of light appears filing up the whole space.

The ball projects a image of a blank virtual male leaving me at a loss except I saw Tom Hardy in the ball showcasing him at some major celebrity event in a dashing suit I can only imagine.

Next thing I know suddenly I am falling in to a deep sleep body, mind and soul are soon transferring in to the ball all of sudden I am hit with a shock appearing at the event and I see it.

Crowds screaming as they are surrounding me, more hands reaching out to grabbing me too and pulling left, right, up, down and center until my eyes land on the glass door and window.

I am now literally in control of actors super sexy and hot ass mother fuckers body in the midst of the spectacle and I decide to play along with it taking his finger licking it and messing his hair up.

I flash a bright smoke showcasing my teeth then make my way down the red carpet my hands are in air and waving it to the sea of massive amounts crowds who are lusting after me.

I slap my ass hard while making a hot sizzle sounds, then make gun signal in my hand and shoot upward and make a weird facial expression as I ditch my wife to have some old fun.

Taking a second I sneak off to the private bathroom of the hotel locking the door a bit and start to undress my self slowly as I lay my cell on to the counter as it records my every movement.

Doing a sexy dance routine just live stream for everyone to see declaring that I am hot ass mess and I need to give myself to some one and he has no idea I am about to make him mine.

I grab my cock starting to pump it creating a heavy undulating movements as I I scream, howl, and shout in pain and pleasure before I cum and I feel the horror of Tom from inside of my body.

“Time to clean up this mess!”

“God! Look at this face “

“I am about to hit some pussy and ass”

“Yeah! I am talking about you bitch”

“Oh Stop! You are embracing this “

“I can feel your heart racing “

“Do not ignore me”

“Or deny my”

“This is my body now “

“Anyone let’s go “

“Hello everyone!”

“Let’s fucking party “

“Hey babe”

“Let’s dance “

“Are you ok Tom?”

“Yeah? By the way”

“Huh?”

“I want a divorce! Sorry babe! Bye”

I call for my limo, calls hotel to set up a room for me and we are off as they park and I am heading in to my hotel room disrobing me of my clothes stripping till my underpants as it all leaves me naked.

I stand in the mirror soon enough I see his reflection looking back at me with anger is ranging on and waving his fist at me so he is getting closer to me as close as the mirror gets closer to me.

He stood stronger in a super height equal to mine, his arms are wide across from me now padding his arms to his body and I love it I can feel the panic in his throat and the pure surge of energy.

“This is impossible! You cannot do this.”

“I am allowed to do anything I want.”

“I chose you “

“I am in control “

“This is my will”

“I will you to obey “

“FUCK You!”

“You will be fucking “

“Some ass”

“You evil creep”

“Evil? Creep? No! No!”

“Oh Tommy! Tom…Tom”

“I am Tom Hardy”

“I am Eddie Brock”

“Asswipe”

“On a deeper level “

“I understand you “

“I am suffering with mental health too”

“I am not as confident as I should be”

“We have to exude it”

“That’s a life”

“Stop falling it “

“Enough fueling it”

“I am your Master now”

“I consume you “

“There is no freedom”

“No free will”

“I love you Tom”

The end

[pandenewie]

37 - It's Giving Grease

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“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Y/n looks at their friends confused as they get into the backseat of Bahiyyih’s (brother’s) car. “Good morning to you guys too?” Y/n asks, eying the group suspiciously. “Are you sad again?” Eunchae asks, giving Y/n a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Um… not any more than usual?” Y/n is beyond confused. 

“You’re dressed like a normal person.” Hikaru points out. “It’s gross.” Y/n screws their face up at her words, mildly offended at the comment. “Did you forget today's dress code protest?” Bahiyyih asks, causing Y/n to shrug. “No, I’m just not gonna do it.” 

The three friends gasp at this. Y/n not participating in a protest? Something must be truly wrong. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal, okay? I know Jungwon’s probably gonna be super stressed out because everyone’s protesting and I don’t want to add to that.” Y/n mumbles, the end of their sentence trailing off.

“And what if Jungwon participates in the protest?” Hikaru asks. Y/n deadpans at this, a gentle roll of the eyes showing they are not taking their friend seriously. “This is Jungwon we’re talking about. He follows rules and does what he’s told - protesting doesn’t fit into either of those things.” Y/n states. “I don’t know… maybe he’ll surprise you.” Eunchae smiles.

The school halls are filled with students from all walks of life - banning together to protest the dress code. Some keep it more simple, with extra jewellery or mildly-graphic shirts whilst others show up in jaw-dropping outfits, breaking the dress code in more ways than imaginable.

Y/n gets a few stares as they make their way down the hallway - most likely due to their lack of protest. Given the spectacles Y/n has put on throughout the year so far - not seeing them participate is certainly a shock. Although Y/n is technically still breaking the dress code (they can’t give up their ripped jeans) it’s not the outfit people were expecting.

“This is what you get for being a simp.” Hikaru whispers, earning an eye roll and jab to the side from Y/n. “You’re acting like I don’t love the attention.” Y/n whispers back snidely. Hikaru goes to reply with another sarcastic comment but gets distracted by the sound of Bahiyyih calling out to Wonyoung and Ricky.

“You guys all look so cute! Wait, you aren’t protesting Y/n?” Wonyoung asks, her attention turning to Y/n and their outfit. “Y/n’s trying to be a goody-two-shoes to impress Jungwon.” Eunchae says, nudging her friend playfully. “I’m not doing it to impress him.”  Y/n rolls their eyes. “I just don’t want to stress him out more than he already is, and participating in the protest would do that… no offence.”

“Wait, but Jungwon’s the one who-” Ricky is immediately cut off as Wonyoung slams her hand over his mouth. “Jungwon is probably stressing his poor little heart out. Maybe you could go talk to him, Y/n?” Wonyoung says, a stark contrast between her harsh glare at Ricky and her gentle smile at Y/n. “Uh… yeah, okay? Let me know how the protest goes.” Y/n says, waving goodbye to their friends before taking off down the hallway.

“You’re such an idiot sometimes.” Wonyoung immediately scolds as soon as Y/n is out of sight. “I’m sorry, I forgot they don’t know Jungwon planned this.” Ricky states, defensively. “You just need to stop talking in general.” Hikaru rolls her eyes. “Sorry, it’s not my fault I'm so talkative and charming.” Ricky smirks - letting out a yelp as Hikaru slaps his chest.

Y/n thought they knew exactly where Jungwon would be - but as they look around the library confused they see no sight of him. “Um… excuse me ma’am but have you seen Jungwon at all?” Y/n asks the librarian, who immediately lets out a sigh as their eyes scan Y/n up and down.

“Nice to see you’re finally cleaning up your act… but I better not see you two skipping class in here again.” She warns. Y/n nods obediently and the librarian points towards the far tables, where Y/n and Jungwon commonly sit. Y/n’s brows furrow - didn’t they check there?

Y/n thanks the librarian before making their way towards the back of the library. Only one student is sitting there, with their back to Y/n. The bright red hair throws them off for a second but as their eyes land on the schoolbag next to their feet - they immediately recognise a familiar cat keychain.

“Jungwon?” Y/n asks, unsure. The student turns around at the sudden voice - and Y/n immediately recognises him. After all, no one has ever looked at them the way Jungwon does. “...hi.” Jungwon says, biting his lip nervously. Y/n continues to look at him with wide eyes, their gaze locked on his fluorescent strawberry locks.

“...do you like it?”

Like it? He has the audacity to sit there, smiling innocently as if he doesn't look like the hottest new anime character and then ask if Y/n likes it?

“Are you serious right now? Won, you look amazing.” Y/n exclaims in disbelief, pouting slightly as someone a few tables down shushes them. They don’t look to see who the person is - their eyes are busy fixating on Jungwon’s hair. How badly they want to reach out and touch the fiery strands. 

As Jungwon suddenly stands, Y/n’s gaze flickers to the rest of his outfit. He’s wearing baggy distressed jeans - covered in rips and pins and cute little doodles. They hang slightly low on his hips, exposing the band of his boxers. The pants are paired with a loose graphic tank top which, as Jungwon stretches his arms slightly, Y/n immediately notices is mildly cropped. All things that the dress code certainly does not allow.

Y/n is rendered speechless, which doesn’t happen very often. Jungwon almost laughs at the shocked, slightly dazed expression on their face. He takes a few steps forward until he and Y/n are standing face to face.

“I’ll take amazing.” Jungwon smiles. Y/n’s face is screwed up with confusion, as their eyes dart between Jungwon’s hair and his outfit. “I’m... so confused… you’re doing the protest?” Y/n asks, causing Jungwon to chuckle slightly. “Y/n… I started the protest.”

Now Y/n has officially short-circuited. Jungwon - the guy who messaged them all those months ago, asking them to follow the dress code; the guy who watched them get detention over and over again for breaking said dress code is standing in front of them with bright red hair and an outfit that doesn’t follow a single dress code rule. Is it some kind of alternate universe?

Meanwhile, Jungwon is eating this up. He expected some sort of reaction (a small part of him was hoping Y/n would immediately leap into his arms but that’s just the delusions talking) and this is certainly a reaction.

“I see you’re not participating.” Jungwon points out, gesturing to Y/n’s outfit. His gaze is playful and Y/n bashfully moves to wrap their (Jungwon’s) jacket tighter around their body. “I didn’t know you were the one who planned all this and… thought it was gonna stress you out… so I didn’t do it.” Y/n mumbles, their voice trailing off. “Cute.” Jungwon smiles, taking note of the subtle blush that spreads across Y/n’s cheeks.

“Why are you protesting? I thought you were okay with the dress code?” Y/n asks, changing the topic. “Well, yeah but you aren’t… you’ve done so much for me Y/n and I wanted to do something for you in return. Something to show that I care about you.” Jungwon says, causing Y/n’s heart to flutter slightly. “You did it… for me?” Y/n asks, an unfamiliar tone in their voice. Jungwon nods wordlessly, his eyes widening as Y/n’s fill up with tears.

“But I was so bad to you. I basically used you and now you’re just giving me what I wanted. What about you? What do you get from this?” Y/n asks, sniffing in an attempt to stop the tears from rolling down their cheeks. Jungwon’s heart clenches at the sight and he immediately reaches forwards to pull Y/n into his arms. 

“You weren’t bad to me. You made a mistake, yeah. And it hurt but it also taught us both a lot. I can see, even from your reaction right now, how guilty you are and that shows me you’re different now. I forgive you, Y/n.” Jungwon whispers against Y/n’s head, having to physically hold himself back from pressing gentle pecks to follow his words. “And I’m not just doing this for you, it’s for everyone. There’s nothing wrong with breaking some of the rules, I learnt that from a certain someone.” Jungwon smiles, causing Y/n to giggle slightly against his chest.

Y/n pulls back slightly to look at Jungwon’s face, glancing at his hair and outfit once more in the process. “So… bad boy Jungwon is here to stay?” Y/n asks, causing Jungwon to laugh. “I’d hardly call this bad boy… more like slightly less uptight Jungwon.” Y/n playfully scoffs at this, finally bringing their hands up to brush through Jungwon’s hair. “I don’t know… dyed hair, ripped jeans… what will the teachers think?” Y/n asks sarcastically, squealing slightly as Jungwon pinches their waist. “I don’t care what they think.” He mumbles, pulling Y/n even closer so their faces are only inches apart.

The two fall silent as they stare into each other's eyes. It’s similar to how they were a few nights ago, at Jungwon’s house. Although this time the atmosphere isn’t stiff or awkward. It’s comfortable - like this is exactly where they’re supposed to be.

“I really miss you, Y/n.” Jungwon whispers, his breath gently blowing against Y/n’s skin. His eyes flicker between their eyes and their lips, completely unsure of where to look. “I miss you too.” Y/n whispers back, lowering their hands from his hair to rest securely around the nape of Jungwon’s neck. Y/n can practically see the sense of relief fill Jungwon’s eyes, as his body completely relaxes against theirs. Jungwon leans forward to press his forehead against Y/n’s, his eyes closing for a few moments of bliss before opening again.

“Do you… think we could date for real this time?” Jungwon asks, his eyes full of hope as they stare directly into Y/n’s. It’s almost overwhelming, their closeness. Every sense, every thought, every feeling solely focused on each other - as if nothing and no one else exists in this moment. Y/n takes a second to process Jungwon’s words, their heart and brain working rapidly rushing around to form some kind of response. As the words get stuck in their throat, Y/n resorts to an enthusiastic nod of the head, a quiet whispered “please” following soon after.

That one word was all it took for Jungwon’s eyes to flutter shut, a staggered breath escaping his lips as they stretch out into a dimpled smile. He moves to gently nuzzle his nose against Y/n’s, their lips ghosting over each other’s ever so slightly. They both know what is about to happen but there’s no rush, allowing themselves time to experience being together again. Finally, a few simple words escape Jungwon’s lips before they are fully engulfed by Y/n’s.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

And he does. And it’s electric. Their mouths move together perfectly in sync, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle - as cheesy as it sounds. No amount of proximity is close enough as they pull each other closer and closer as if they won’t be happy until every inch of skin isn’t being touched.

It’s only when their cheesy grins get far too wide to hold back, that the kissing stops. Jungwon switches to pressing gentle pecks against every part of Y/n’s face. Their moment of bliss is quickly interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing, causing Jungwon to pull away slightly.

“Skip class to makeout?” Y/n asks, smirking. “When I said it’s okay to break some rules, that’s not what I meant.” Jungwon fake scolds. “I was just kidding. You’re not the only one who’s changing, I haven’t skipped class in weeks.” Y/n smiles. “Well… let’s not fall back into old habits then.” Jungwon says, leaning down to press one final kiss against Y/n’s lips before grabbing their hand and going to walk them to their class.

“Did you see Mr Jeon is wearing ripped jeans?”

“Wait, what? Like for the protest?”

“I guess so… kind of cool for a teacher to back us up.”

The intense conversation at the lunch table is cut short as Jungwon and Y/n approach, hand in hand. Bahiyyih spots them first, her eyes widening as she notices their intertwining fingers and she immediately points towards the two.

“You’re holding hands!” She exclaims, causing the rest of the group to turn and look at the couple. All hell breaks loose when their eyes land on the couple - you’d think the pair were celebrities with the way their friends are acting.

“I always knew you two would work things out.” Niki smiles innocently, earning a few confused looks from the group. “You put vomit emojis every time we mentioned Y/n for like, weeks.” Jongseob points out, causing Niki to wave him off nonchalantly. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“Wait, so are you two like… dating, dating?” Eunchae asks, her eyes filled with hope. Y/n and Jungwon look at each other for a moment before nodding, causing the group to erupt into a fit of cheers.

“I think they’re more excited than we are.” Y/n mumbles, quiet enough that only Jungwon can hear. “Perks of being the only relationship in the group.” Jungwon replies, his voice purposefully louder to gain the attention of his friends.

“Hey! I could get a girlfriend if I wanted one!”

“As if anyone would want to date you.”

Sighing, Jungwon turns his attention fully to Y/n. “I don’t know if I can deal with this right now… wanna hang out in the library?” He asks “God, yes.” Y/n sighs, reaching to grab a fry off Bahiyyih’s plate. “We’re gonna go, I’ll see you in calc.” They say. “So, it’s back to you ditching us for your boyfriend?” Hikaru teases. “Only sometimes.” Y/n replies before walking out of the cafeteria with Jungwon.

“People are staring at us.” Jungwon comments, as the two walk through the halls. “Probably because your hair looks like a firetruck.” Y/n jokes, causing Jungwon to look at them with a deadpan expression. “I thought you liked my hair…” He mumbles. “I do! But you can’t deny that it sticks out.” Y/n reasons.

As the two turn around the corner towards the library, they are stopped by Mr Jeon walking down the hallway. “I was wondering when I would run into you two.” He says, his eyes subtly flickering to their intertwined hands. “We need to discuss some things… could you meet me in my classroom? I just have to drop off this printing to Mr Kim.”

“Of course, we’ll head there right now.” Jungwon smiles, bowing goodbye to Mr Jeon before dragging Y/n down the hall. “Are we in trouble?” Y/n asks, causing Jungwon to shrug. “I’ve never gotten in trouble with Mr Jeon before. But he is the teacher in charge of the student council so… it’s probably something to do with the dress code.” He says. He notices the nervous look on Y/n’s face and squeezes their hand reassuringly. “It’s gonna be fine… you’re not even really breaking the dress code so if anything, you’ll just watch me get yelled at.”

“I’m not going to yell at you.”

Jungwon and Y/n visibly relax at his words, causing Mr Jeon to chuckle slightly. “We do need to talk about the dress code, though… more specifically, the protest.” Mr Jeon continues. “Since Jungwon was kind enough to email me about this in advance, I wasn’t blindsided by today’s events. And Y/n, I understand that you had nothing to do with this but, given your past involvement I hope you can see the importance of your inclusion in this discussion.”

Mr Jeon is certainly a teacher - even his speaking mannerisms show that. Y/n can’t tell if he’s practised this statement or if this is just the way his brain forms sentences. In all honesty, half of the words went in one ear and out the other, so they just nod along silently and hope that they didn’t just agree to something insane.

“Good. Now, Jungwon. You know I have great trust in you as our student council president and I know you wouldn’t do something to this extreme if you didn’t believe it would benefit the students at our school. With that being said, if you are not clear about what it is you want changed, the change will not happen.” Jungwon nods at Mr Jeon’s words. “I know that completely getting rid of the dress code is unrealistic but there are a handful of the rules that the students believe are unfair - those are the ones we would like changed.” Jungwon says. “I sent an online form to those who are participating in the protest to ask what rules they disagree with, then I was planning on making a presentation and taking it to the school board.”

Mr Jeon’s eyes light up at Jungwon’s preparation and planning. “We have a school board meeting this Friday after school, I would be more than happy to support you with this.” Mr Jeon smiles. Jungwon turns to look at Y/n, who just looks back with a slightly confused expression. They’re still not 100% sure why they’re here. “Okay… I guess I’ll start preparing then.” Jungwon says, smiling slightly as he feels Y/n squeeze his hand reassuringly. He’s got this.

TAG LIST (closed): @kang-yeosangs-initials @kpopstanmeg @b1ndignity @soobiverse @dudufodd @mikadorbs @pagesofmiracles @tya0 @ilovewonyo @bringer-ofchaos @huening-ly @latriii @callmeblondie @run2min @straykids-riley (can't tag) @rikimylove @chaechae-23 @lacimolela @n1ght-maring (can't tag) @luvvsjungwonn @yenqa @tzuyusluv @viyqe @vocaloshin @deadgirlwalking3 @flamiricky @hanniesss @grayscorner @wonqr @neozon3nha @beomgyusonlywife @ahnneyong @lani-heart @jayujus @str4wb3rizz @yunwonie @danielleismyname @spilled-coffee-cup @jaylans-stuff @oceanmsxoxo @j-wyoung @mrowwww @lazy-miya @shinsou-rii @minkyungseokie @s7noo @beatr2x @thatoneembarrasingmoment @soobawrz

@miumiuoi @lucyinthesky-00 @wrapmeinatortilla

[dearharriet]

could I request the tangled prompt for george, please? 😚

and congratulations on 150!!! 🎉

here u are lovely, thank you sm!! (wc: 870)

George is not used to this whole heart in his chest thing, and it’s really dragging down his name as an enemy of the crown.

I mean, sure, that’s not something he can just put away—and the palace guards certainly won’t—but he almost wishes he could. Which is stupid, obviously George loves being a criminal—who doesn’t?

But the thing is, you’re kind of more than he’d been expecting. George thought you were naive, and jumpier than a field mouse, and you are, but you’re also kind when you want to be, and similarly cutthroat when necessary. You’re not half bad.

Like now, in the square, you’re helping an older group of women with their knitting patterns. George had ordered you to lay low, but he realizes now how foolish that is. It doesn’t matter how low you lay, everyone would be looking at you anyways. You’re just magnetic that way.

Leaving the chittering group, you pass over the wide open square, eyes on a shady alcove at the other end. George ducks further into the overhang, skirting around columns to meet you there.

Even if you’re not seeking him out, he’s glad you’re getting some shade. The mid-year sun is penetrating every thick stone building in the kingdom, and turning the ground into a coal walk for your bare feet.

And anyways, when the sun and you meet head-on, it’s a spectacle that’s hard to look at.

Rounding the corner, George stops short, realizing you’re not as alone as he thought.

You’re crouched, hair fanning over your shoulders, speaking with a small boy who looks very unfortunate. There’s dirt covering his face, and his feet are similar to yours in that they’re unprotected. He can’t be more than ten, but instead of playing in the sun like most children, he’s slumped against the wall, looking tired.

George’s newfound heart thumps a little, shocking his system. He steps forward, but then you’re standing, pulling the boy up with you.

Weaving through carts and wagons, you lead the boy into the center of the square, and then skitter away to a quartet of musicians.

The little boy looks like he’s treading open water, spinning in the wake of your attention. When you come back, you take his shaking hands into yours as a song begins to play.

Then you’re dancing.

With the height difference it’s nothing more than a flailing spin, but with every rotation both your face and the boy’s light with joy.

Two couples join in, and George ventures out of his hiding spot to get a better view. As he passes vendors and shoppers, he notices them uprooting themselves, pushing toward you the way he is.

Many of them join, and when George is on the bank of the whirling circle of townspeople he can’t see you anymore. The dance has quickly evolved into a more complex braid of partners, one that everyone but him seems to understand.

A part of him worries that you were taken, but a flash of gold cuts through the mesh of feet, and his shoulders settle.

The partners change fast, so one second your elbows are linked with an older man, and the next you’re swinging into a young girl. It goes this way down the chain, changing all at once like a flower that blooms new every minute, and you keep your eyes on George the whole time.

When you reach him, you stick one hand out and yank him into the fray.

George stumbles and then catches himself on a stranger who kindly guides him into the proper spin. Luckily, he’d been watching long enough to know when to switch, pinging from one partner to the next as bystanders clap to the beat.

When he’s rounded the full circle, the music changes, and everyone finds a new direction.

Though he probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, George understands why you and the boy had looked so happy. As he swings through smithys and students and artists, touching each hand briefly in this hurdling dance, he’s undeniably alive.

He thought that stealing the crown was the fastest his heart would ever beat, but he might have been wrong. Running away was easy, but coming back? Near impossible.

Without him even realizing, George is finally dancing with you. It felt like every time he’d completed the circle and come to you, the music had changed and you’d miss each other.

But now, you’re under his hands, and when the music changes, you tighten yours around his. The chain breaks, and no one seems to mind. George suspects it was all your making anyways, so this time is no different.

Around and around you spin under the summer sun, and George tugs you closer, his feet doing the work for both of you. He doesn’t have to think, he just turns and turns and lifts you, revels in your delighted laugh. He shocks himself with his returning laugh—not snide nor attractive, but truly overjoyed.

When you land on your feet, the music comes to an end, and George and you are still laughing. Both of your chests meet with each huff, swelling with air and pride.

George knows it’s not about the crown anymore.

+

thank you for reading xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[whenykyk]

Fate

Chapter II

Treech tbosas X fem mentor! Reader

The next day at around 10 AM you and Coriolanus stood at the train station waiting for the tributes to arrive. Coriolanus was holding a white Rose and looking deep into thought as he stared at the Rose.

“Are you nevrous?”

“No, I believe i might have some luck with her. The way she sang showed me she’s a performer…they make the best spectacles which means my odds of winning the plinth prize are not too bad.” He said in a nonchalant tone.

You where genuinely shocked to hear your dear friend speak about her as if the only reason she mattered was so he can succeed.

“Well, what about her well being?”

“What about it?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“I- well…it’s just…they are so much more than just spectacles for entertainment Coryo…they’re children just like us. The youngest of them is 12 and the oldest is 18. Imagine if the roles where reversed and your mentor cared only for his success and not for your salvation.”

“They’re district. They’re filth.”

You where shocked to hear your friend, your Coryo, to speak about the districts in such a way. He’s friends with Sejanus and this is how he views districts? How could he possibly be friends with Sejanus who is from a district himself but have these views?. It had you thinking. What if Coryo sees Sejanus as filth? What if it’s all and act? Is this why he lies so much? You where so confused…never did you think this is how Coryo viewed them…maybe even viewed Sejanus…

“They’re here.”

You shifted your attention to the tributes coming out of the trains as Coriolanus went to go look for Lucy Gray. You looked around till you saw him. Treech looked much different in person. His eyes where a bit red and swollen, his face was contorted in a angry look. He helped his district partner get down. The poor girl looked wrecked as tears kept falling from her eyes. Regardless of her crying state and treech’s angry look you approached them.

“Hello!”

Your voice ringed out as the two shifted their attention to you. Treech looked on guard as he stood infront of Lamina.

“I’m (Y/N), your mentor!”

“Whats a mentor?”

“Well…I’m basically suppose to help you win the games.”

His face quickly turned into one of anger and disgust.

“You’re capitol?”

“Yes..”

“I don’t want your help. I dont want anything from you or anyone that has anything to do with this!”

He raised his voice and peacekeepers came over and grabbed and took him away towards a van. You knew he’d be angry but you need him to trust you. You turned your attention to a peacekeeper.

“Excuse me…where is the van taking them?”

“We cant say miss, you should leave. No one is allowed here.”

The peacekeeper walked away. As you looked back at the van you saw one of the tributes try to run away with several peacekeepers hot on his heels. You went closer to see what would happen and before you know it someone grabbed her arm and pulled you with them into the van. You fell onto the metal floor as the person wraps his arm around you pulling you into a corner. You looked up and saw it was Coriolanus who did so. As you where about to say something he put his hand over your mouth as the peacekeepers threw the tribute in the van and closed the doors. Now you where beginning to get scared. You where in a vehicle with 24 people who hate the capitol. You and Coriolanus stood up and you held his arm tightly. Everyone was staring at you and Coriolanus.

“Hi.”

Coriolanus spoke up as went more behind him.

“Whats the matter pretty boy, you two in the wrong cage?”

The district 11 male asked looking dead into Coriolanus eyes.

“No, this cage is delightful.”

The moment those words left Coriolanus mouth the 11 boy came over and held him tightly against the wall of the vehicle. You heard some tributes encourage the boy to hurt Coriolanus and that made your heart race with panic.

“I will kill you right now!”

You couldn’t just stand their as your friend was gettting threatened.

“Stop!”

Your voice rang out as everyone’s attention shifted to you.

“Don’t hurt him please…he- we don’t want any trouble!”

The girl from 4 stood up and creeped towards you.

“Whats stopping us from killing him… and you.”

“I wouldn’t do that if i where you.”

It was Lucy Gray who spoke up this time.

“If you kill either of them they’ll just kill you and your people back home…besides blondie’s my mentor, i might need him.”

“Oh yeah? And why does rainbow over here get a mender? What makes her special?”

“You all get mentors.”

“Why aren’t they here then?”

“Just wasn’t inspired i guess..”

Lucy Gray looked up at Coriolanus with a slight smirk. The district 11 boy let go of Coriolanus and he pulled you towards him. The district 10 boy spoke up.

“Who has the pleasure of being the little lady’s tribute?

“Back off ten.”

You did not expect Treech to say something. The whole time he just stared as the tributes threatened you and Coriolanus and now he wants to say something. Your thought where cut off by the vehicle jerking. Suddenly you fell to the floor along with most tributes. He hit against a firm chest and felt someone hold you. You looked and saw Treech but just as you where about to say something the door flew open and you along with everyone else fell out.

A/N: english isnt my first language y’all so lets not judge too much ALSO i really want ro make a love triangel for treech, you and Coryo lmk.

[squidwen]

🐙 Tentacle Trapped 🐙

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Summary: After having a hand in destroying all of Azul’s contracts, the dorm leader blames you for his downfall and snatches you up in his tentacles.

You struggle to get free as your friends fight the overblot phantom, but Azul won’t let you go so easily. He plans to keep you restrained long enough to witness your friends’ defeat before turning his unique magic on you.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Azul’s life work lay in a million pieces at his feet. A decade of blood, sweat, and tears – gone. There was now no difference between his contracts and the dirty silt on the seabed. Just something for people to walk all over and disrespect. 

Just like him. 

Leona cracked his knuckles, releasing the tension built up by King’s Roar. Azul snapped to him, his eyes murderous, but despite the lion being the one that had done the damage, Azul had rage for everyone before him. 

Ace and Deuce’s relieved grins were grotesque. They combed their hands through their hair and revelled in not feeling the anemones. Jade and Floyd stood idly beside them, watching Azul as if he were some spectacle. His eyes pleaded for them to do something, but they stayed firmly rooted to the spot. 

And then, there was you.

Cradling your putrid cat monster, you looked almost innocent. But the way your head was tilted down in shame gave you away.

Azul was no fool. The interest you had shown in finding his childhood photograph; the fact Grim had been a debtor; the favour Leona owed you for helping him with his overblot. All the pieces were there. 

You had orchestrated this. You sly, cunning little mastermind.

•~•~0~•~•

“Gone…” Azul murmured. “Gone. Gone! GONE! IT’S ALL GONE!” He gripped his face like the reigns on a wild horse, his tendons bulging through the gloves. Breaths turned to panicked rasps. In and out, in and out as if his lungs had shrunk to half their size.

You had to look away. Admittedly, you felt bad but not guilty. Azul had threatened to evict you from Ramshackle. He had enslaved your friends. Was it wrong to protect what was yours by playing him at his own game? It had been him or you.

“Do ya have to scream, Azul?” Floyd whined. “You’re being super lame.”

“SHUT UP!”

Just then, an Octavinelle student passed by - unaware of what was happening - and Azul grabbed him by the collar. Before the boy could protest his talents were torn straight out of him. A hideous shriek ripped through the water as he fell to his knees, eyes glassy and jaw slack.

“Azul, stop!” Jade barked, reaching for his magic pen. “Your unique magic needs to be regulated with a contract. You know what will happen if you keep doing this.”

But all Jade got for an answer was a twisted grin. Darkness shrouded the glistening conch spires of Octavinelle, and the familiar tang of ink stroked the back of your throat.

•~•~0~•~•

London’s smog at the height of the Industrial Revolution couldn’t compare to the haze around Octavinelle. The sea was pitch black. Would the breathing spell hold in these conditions? You, the Tweels, Leona, Ace, and Deuce, moved into a tight circle, huddling with your backs to one another so you could see in all directions. An attack could come from anywhere.

“Duck!” Deuce suddenly cried.

Your body went on autopilot. Adrenaline forced you to the ground as what looked like a giant black trident swung at your heads. The weapon cut through the miasma, sending wreaths of dark ink spiralling in its wake. 

A figure stood in the clearing it had made.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Azul was almost unrecognisable. His pale skin had turned to lilac, and in place of his legs were thick tentacles. The only thing to distinguish him was his shock of white hair, made even whiter against the hideous overblot phantom towering behind him.

Grim wriggled out of your arms and looked to you for guidance, but you were stunned. This was your fault. This overblot…was your fault. The Tweels stepped in front of you when they saw your frozen form. Their faces were flat, but it must have done something to them to point their magic pens at Azul.

“How dare you defend them!” Azul shrieked. “Traitors! Liars and thieves! All of you!” His eyes fixed you as you cowered behind the twins’ legs. You. The object of his hatred. The common denominator. The one that pulled the strings. 

Azul snapped his fingers and the overblot phantom thrust one of its tentacles into the twins. Floyd leapt out of the way, but Jade wasn’t so lucky and the impact sent him rocketing through the water. You lunged to grab him, but the tentacle flexed back on itself and snatched you up.

“Y/N!” cried Ace and Deuce.

The tentacle wrapped itself once, twice, thrice around your body like a gelatinous anaconda, its suction cups gasping as they glued themselves to your skin.

Deuce aimed his pen at it, but Ace stopped him. The risk of hitting you was too great. Even Leona seemed reluctant to attack Azul while you were hostage.

Sensing his advantage, Azul commanded the phantom to fling you towards him. You’d make a perfect human shield, and while the phantom dispatched your friends he could take his time making you suffer for what you’d done. 

The tentacle drew you back and swung you forward. You sailed through the water like slingshot amo, spreading your arms to slow yourself. But your speed didn’t waver. Water dragged your head back, threatening to give you whiplash.

Azul drew nearer.

You had to use your momentum.

Instinctively, you balled your hands into fists and reeled back to strike - but Azul was faster. His own tentacles wrapped around your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You shuddered at the coolness as they climbed up to your elbows, seizing complete control of your arms. 

Panic wracked you. Desperate, you twisted and slammed your shoulder into Azul’s side. The merman grunted and lost his balance, giving you an opening to thrust a kick at his stomach.

The heel of your shoe lightly grazed his chest before he regained his composure. Frustrated, the tentacles around your arms slammed you backwards into the seabed - a little rougher than was necessary - while another quickly slithered over your torso. Its girth bound you from your waist to your knees like a firm blanket. You bucked your hips but Azul had your core, effortlessly restraining you against the sand. Against the contracts you’d destroyed. 

All it took was one harsh squeeze and the fight was forced out of you.

•~•~0~•~•

Azul threw his head back, pausing to catch his breath. You could feel the blood pumping through him the tighter he held you. It was frighteningly quick. Like his heart could give out at any moment.

“Azul…” you panted. “I’m…sorry. I didn’t want this to happen…I didn’t– I didn’t want– I didn’t want you to lose everything. I just didn’t want you to take what was mine.”

Azul snapped back to you. The rage in his eyes had been replaced by indignation. “So you took everything from me before I could do it to you? Is that it?”

You weren’t sure. You wrestled with an answer. Yes? No? You’d struck first, but didn’t want things to go this far. This hadn’t been part of your plan. 

The tips of the tentacles binding you started drawing small circles on your skin, seemingly to coax an answer out of you. You grit your teeth to keep from squeaking. Azul smirked at your discomfort.

“Y-You’re a professional, remember?” You tried to appeal to his morals. “Surely you didn’t need a contract to become that. Not all is lost. And you can make more contracts. Just…don’t do this. This is overblot, Azul. Don’t do this to yoursel-hmm!”

A tentacle slapped over your mouth. Your eyes bulged as suction cups tugged at your cheeks and lips.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, Prefect,” Azul hissed into your ear. Your breathing quickened. “Being professional hasn’t done me any favours in the end, has it? And I don’t care if you didn’t mean for this to happen. I’ll drain your friends of every last detail that makes them themselves.” You screamed, begged, pleaded, but it all came out muffled. “And then I’ll drain everything from you.”

You started struggling again. Azul didn’t seem to care. He controlled every aspect of you and still had limbs to spare. If you wanted to tire yourself out you could be his guest. Hot tears pricked your eyes. You could hear Ace and Deuce shouting commands to each other, followed by cries of pain.

You had to get out!

Perhaps if you could shirk the suction cup off your lips you could open your mouth wide enough to bite? Or, if you could shift the tentacle on your thighs just a little higher, you’d have enough movement to kick. Hard. But that was all just wishful thinking. Azul had wrapped you up like a Christmas present. Your body, your words...all of it was useless.

•~•~0~•~•

Just then, you felt the water disturb around you. You moved your head towards where you’d felt it, prompting Azul to do the same. Then it came again.

Something was circling you. Azul tensed. His breathing became laboured, wary. Something was hiding in the murk. Something that would put an overblot on edge. Movement came from behind you, then to the left. Azul was pulling you here and there as a shield until BAM!

Azul cursed as he was knocked to the ground. The first thing you did was shift onto your front and hit your chin against the seabed. The impact released the tentacle around your mouth. You saw a flash of grey, a stoic face – bruised but still handsome. 

Jade was straddling Azul in his eel form.

While his tail pinned the octopus down, Jade clawed and tugged at the tentacles around you. Azul acted as you had, bucking and twisting to get free. With each tentacle peeled away you regained your control. You were eventually able to free yourself while Jade kept Azul busy; a harsh kick sending the last tentacle tumbling off. 

As soon as you were free Jade grabbed you and swam off back to the others. Azul reeled. Open and vulnerable, he called his phantom back to him.

Ace and Deuce analysed you as you were set down, checking for wounds. Aside from the small red circles from the suction cups peppering your skin you were unscathed. Grim ran to you and brushed himself up against your legs. The harsh glimmer in his eyes told you he was ready to fight.

“YOU OWE ME EVERYTHING YOU’VE TAKEN!” Azul screamed.

Facing him, you still felt awful for having a hand in what had happened. But if Riddle and Leona were anything to go by, defeating Azul was the kindest thing you could do. And perhaps you could make it up to him later on.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Author Note:

Ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary finery, I give you…ANGST.

I feel like we don’t have enough fan fictions of octopus Azul. His design is honestly so cool! I know he doesn’t like to show off his octopus form (which would probably explain the lack of content on it) but I cannot, as an Ursula fan, NOT write it.

I’m considering writing a sequel/aftermath piece to this where MC earns Azul’s forgiveness and helps him get over his self-consciousness about his octopus form. Something fluffy to balance things  😂😂

Lemme know your thoughts.

As ever, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Taking care of my dragon | Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After getting his pride hurt at the tourney, Daemon needs help to calm down and unwind

Word count:

Warning: pure softness and intimacy (no smut)

Request:  You are amazing♥️ You bring me a sense of comfort that I haven’t felt in a really long time and Daemon please🙏🙏🙏

-

You winced as you watched Daemon's back slide along the tilt rail, his armor screeching and hurting your ears, and got knocked down and unhorsed as he reached its end. One of the squires came to help him up, but Daemon and his pride shoved him off.

This joust was off to a bad start…

On the opposite end, Criston Cole got down his horse, both men wishing to continue in a contest of arms.

The duel was difficult to watch, but you couldn’t look away, worried for your man. Cole was relentless on Daemon; they weren't jousting anymore, the fight had gotten personal. One wanted to win to bring honor to his house by defeating Daemon Targaryen, and the other was a sore loser and letting his anger out on Cole, swinging Dark Sister and kicking him until he was down.

The crowd cheeked for Daemon, who relished all the acclamations all while having his back turn on Cole. That turned out to be a huge mistake because Cole stood up and hit Daemon with his flail square in the back, sending him to the ground.

Your heart leaped and stopped for a fraction of a second, shocked at Cole's brutality. You turned to the princess, expecting to see her shocked face, but Rhaenyra seemed enamored by the young knight. He even came and asked for her favor, which could have been sweet had he not done all that spectacle to get her attention.

The tourney continued, other knights coming and jousting in the list. You tried concentrating on the duels, but Daemon remained on your mind. You thought to go see him, to bring him a little comfort after his defeat, but he had his pride hurt big time and assumed he wanted to be alone.

‘’My lady?’’ One of the handmaids appeared at your side, quietly speaking. ‘’It’s Prince Daemon, he…please come.’’

You followed the handmaid up to your and Daemon’s chambers as she informed you of Daemon's little outburst following his embarrassing defeat against Cole. According to her, he had been kicking and throwing things, behaving like a child and making a tantrum. One of the guards tried to control him, but Daemon pulled a dagger at him and that’s when someone suggested to get you.

If anyone could get the prince to calm down, it was his lady wife.

The bedchamber was in shambles and surprisingly quiet when you arrived. Daemon's dragon helmet was on the floor next to a broken vase – he must have chucked it in his fit of rage –, his breastplate, gauntlets and else were scattered around the room.

Your handmaiden, Alyse, emerged from behind the sheer curtain of the bathing area, seeming relieved to see you. ‘’Prince Daemon is currently soaking in the bath I have readied for him. I will bring in towels and wine for him.’’

You nodded. ‘’Very well. Thank you, Alyse.’’

‘’Does the lady require anything else?’’ she asked before leaving the room.

‘’No, that will be all. Leave the towels and wine on the table.’’ You smiled politely at the handmaiden who nodded and left. ‘’Leave us. Everyone.’’

The guards and other handmaids vacated the chambers, closing the door behind.

You crossed the room and pulled the curtain. In the middle of the bathing chamber, Daemon was immersed up to his armpits and steam was coming from the large steel wash basin, scalding hot just the way he liked it. The bottom of his hair was wet from dipping in the water, and the usual soft silver mane all tangled and dirty from the tourney. His under-clothes were left in a puddle by the bath and he was grumbling in High Valyrian.

‘’Husband,’’ you said, stepping in.

‘’This usurper cunt of a knight humiliated me in my city!’’

‘’A bruise to the ego won’t kill you, my love.’’

‘’Besides, I doubt you yielded. I’m sure you could have taken the man down with your dagger. It’s small, but you could have taken his eye out easily – but you didn’t.’’

Daemon cocked an eyebrow. ‘’His eye?’’ he repeated, not expecting that kind of brutality from his wife.

You hummed. ‘’Go for the throat if not harmed, and for the eyes if harmed. Your opponent’s chances are down if he is blinded.’’

‘’You’d be great at joust, my love.’’

‘’I’d rather be a spectator.’’

You walked over to the wash basin and sat on its edge. Automatically, Daemon let his head fall against your thigh, his defeat still heavy on his ego. You cradled the back of his head the way you would a small kitten and began undoing the braids from his hair.

‘’Would you like me to put some lavender oil? It’s has anti-inflammatory and analgesic properties, it should relieve your muscles after all that jousting.’’

Without waiting for his answer, you fetched it from the cabinet and poured a few drops of lavender oil in the scalding hot bath, then moved a hand through the water surrounding him to mix the oil to the water.

‘’It also had calming properties…for your temper,’’ you added with a glint of teasing.

Daemon chuckled, knowing how he can be. ‘’It’s Cole’s fault for waking the dragon.’’

You heard the chamber door open and close – Alysa bringing in the wine and towels – but paid it no mind. Her respect for privacy was the reason why you had personally requested her as your handmaiden.

You sat back on the edge of the wash basin and grabbed the sponge, plunging it in the water before running it over Daemon’s chest, watching the water dribble over his sculpted pecs. ‘’It doesn’t happen when I wake the dragon.’’

‘’That’s because you’ve tamed it and made it yours.’’ He flicked his violet eyes on you, a wash of desire in them.

A smile curled on your lips, running the sponge over his chest again. ‘’Would my dragon like to have his hair washed?’’

There's something so intimate about bathing with your lover. Washing each other, or just sitting in the warm water and relaxing. It's a bonding experiment, a moment of tenderness between a husband and his wife, an easy way to strengthen your relationship.

And it helps unwind after a long day.

The question was left pending, but you reached for the wooden comb and pitcher anyway. You combed out all of the knots and tangles with the comb, then filled the pitcher with warm water. You slid your hand up to Daemon’s forehead and made him tip his head back, pouring water at his hairline slowly, watching as it cascaded down his back and into the bath water.

‘’You’re so good to me,’’ Daemon purred, leaning into your delicate touch as you meticulously massaged his scalp through the sods of the soap. ‘’You bring me a sense of comfort that I haven’t felt in a really long time.’’

His words touched your heart, their softness showing a layer of Daemon only you knew of. This layer was hidden beneath layers and layers of arrogance, impulsiveness and…well, fire.

You filled the pitcher with water again, and rinsed and repeated until all the sods were out.

‘’All done.’’ You put down the pitcher and pressed a tender kiss to the back of his left shoulder.

Daemon let out a long, drawn out groan.

‘’Did I hurt you?’’

‘’No,’’ he immediately said, rolling his shoulders and furrowing his eyebrows. ‘’My shoulders are a little stiff. It’s all.’’

You took hold of one of Daemon’s tender shoulders and squeezed gently. He groaned again. ‘’You're all tense, my love.’’ You poured some lavender oil in your palms and slid your hands firmly across his shoulders and down his upper back, feeling the tension and knots under your palms. ‘’Does that feel good?’’

A soft moan escaped his lips.

The water must be getting lukewarm and unpleasant – he’s been bathing for a moment –, but Daemon didn’t seem to mind.

Ever so gently, you began making small circles with your thumbs, working your way from the middle of his neck down. You gradually made your way to his shoulders, your hands working their way across his back, fingers moving over the contours of his muscles until they were putty under your palms.

‘’Mmh, you've got the delicatest hands, my darling wife.’’ His eyes were closed and face smooth with contentment.

You paused your massage to loosely snake your arms around your husband’s shoulders and kissed his cheekbone. ‘’Only for you.’’ 

-

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[ginsengkitten]

Cinnamon Girl by gingsengkitten

☆ Slash One-Shot

☆ Angst/Light Fluff

☆ A/N: Thank u to @d3vilstower for the idea! <3

Sorry if this is written jumpy, it’s just a one-shot so :P

☆ Synopsis:

Y/N decides to introduce her secret rockstar boyfriend to her high brow parents, and gets a rude awakening about love, power and corruption.

☆

Y/N didn't mean to make things difficult. She didn't mean to cause trouble. To upheave tradition, cause chaos. It seemed at every turn of her life, given the opportunity for the balanced structure laid out before her by her parents, and their legacy, her heart would lean in the opposite direction. This pattern followed her all her life.

While most people would kill for the wealth and stability that she came from, she would kill to escape it. The soulless, loveless game. Maybe that's why she first fell for Slash. Maybe it was just some silly escape. Or maybe it really was true love. The sleepless nights of stolen kisses, late night drives, the reckless thrill. Her parents would kill her if they knew the extent of their relationship. To them, slash was an invisible figure in her life. "Stacy" she’d tell them when she left the house. She knew lies were easier than the truth. They both knew that. But these days, the love seemed harder and harder to conceal. That's why tonight Y/N and Slash had planned to tell them. Right to their faces. Maybe they'd understand, maybe they'd just think the two were young dumb kids. maybe they'd get a heart attack and drop dead. Whatever the risk, it was one they both were willing to take for this.

-

"You've got this baby. We've got this." Slash gave Y/N a tender lingering kiss on the cheek, he saw her apprehension. She nodded and poked into the den where her parents sat pretentiously in front of the large fireplace.

"Momma, Daddy, I'd like you to meet someone very special to me." Y/N fiddled with her fingertips nervously. The reality was staring her down suddenly as her father looked up from his paper, peering over his spectacles. Y/N ducked around the corner and took Slash out by the hand. It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room in that instant. In that moment, they both knew, this was a mistake.

Her parents suddenly became alert and upright. Maybe Slash should have worn a button up or something? No, she didn't want him to change himself for this. They said nothing and the silence stung. Y/N smiled nervously. "Momma...Daddy.!" She pleaded politely for reply, a "don't be rude!" urgency in her voice.

"What a precarious name that is....slash...hm.."

"Yes he's a very talented musician mama, it's a nickname, all artists have them. In fact, he's in his own band-"

"I know who he is." Her father abruptly cut in. "You know....." He began as he stood up out of his chair. Seemingly towering over everyone in the room as he puffed his cigar- a crude judgmental look pierced through Slash.

He continued. "I met a man in a rock band once....Very curious man. Talented too." He walked slowly over to slash, obviously eyeing him down. "But the poor soul seemed drawn to the wrong crowd...." He came face to face with Slash, almost puffing cigar plume in his face disrespectfully so. ".....I didn't hear from him for years until recently! It was the craziest thing you ever did see. This talented, talented man-MUSICIAN, I see him laid up outside the Kmart off Santa Monica. Begging for two dimes to rub together. Poor sad soul really."

He continued his awful monologue

"I'm a music lover myself, slash. Oh yes. But obviously you know that's no career right? Of course you do!" He gives a boisterous false laugh. Y/N sank into herself completely in shock and horror.

"Daddy! Stop it!" Y/N yelped out angrily. She turned to her mother to look for support but only received an equally blank stare of disapproval. "Slash, it was lovely to meet you dear but I've got a crossword I'll be needing to finish before bed. Best you get going."

Y/N stared her parents down in disbelief at just how arrogant they were being. So cold and so rude. She huffed and grabbed slashes hand and stormed out. "Come on Slash. We're leaving."

"You take that girl out that door I'll have your sorry ass arrested for kidnapping!" Her mother screamed out immediately.

Y/N halted at the threshold. Slash stood on the front porch, waiting for y/n to join him. He looked at her longingly, seeing the hesitation in her eyes. She's just a girl. Could she really walk away like this from everything she knows? "Y/N...?" Slash uttered. Y/N continued her pause. "Slash- I - my uncle - he's the head of police."

"Y/N it doesn't matter!"

"Yes it DOES Slash he could arrest you without proof or anything!!!"

"Y/N please-" slash begged.

"You take that girl one step further I swear to god I'll have your name plastered all over the country!" Her father bellowed out as he followed behind into the the front foyer.

Y/N was torn. She knew the power her family held. They really could have him arrested. They could ruin him. Even over this. She stood in arrest in the doorway. Turning her head back and forth.

"He's TRASH Y/N you will NOT be leaving here with that boy!"

The hesitation confused Slash. To him, the decision was obvious. He didn't understand the extent of which her family could hurt him. Y/N hadn't considered this fact. She thought somehow she could get away with something she wanted like she had in the past. She was spoiled. They did give her what she wanted. Just not this apparently.

"Forget it." He dropped Y/N's hand and backed away slowly in hurt.

"Slash please. Please you don't understand!" She started to cry out.

"You ever show your face here again you'll be sorry." Her father barked out.

"Slash please-" her cry was weaker and defeated. Everything within her gave out. She clutched the door frame in tears as she watched him walk away. He didn't understand. How could he? He didn't know the world of old money and the twisted games of power that came with it. Y/N didn't understand the extent of it either-until tonight. She was in utter disbelief. "How could you?!" She turned to her parents in total anger. "How could you be so cruel?! You don't even know him! What do you know about love?!" She cried out angrily. Suddenly her mother slapped her across the face. Every stood in shock as Y/N held her face distraught. Y/N ran upstairs and locked herself away in her room.

-

It had been a month since she saw Slash. Each time she called, each time she drove by, no answer. Nothing. Was this for the best? Maybe it was best he was protected from her family?

Slash took an impromptu trip to LA, where he would spend the next month drowning in alcohol. Roaming his usual stomping grounds. 'He's TRASH!' Echoed in his head relentlessly. It could not have gone worse. Was that expected for a guy like him? Was this for the best? Maybe she did deserve better? Maybe it was for her own good that he didn't continue to throw off her life plan laid out for her so perfectly. Who was he to intervene in their family? Maybe he just needed to stick to what he knew best....

The two hearts yearning for each-other but the reservations of doubt planted harshly within them from that night kept them apart as designed.

Not hearing from Slash only furthered this doubt for Y/N. Fine, he didn't want to fight for her? Maybe he didn't really love her then....

That mixed with the added affirmations from her parents continued to dig at her. She became a shell. If it couldn't be Slash- then it didn't matter anyways. That's why about two months later, on the evening of her 20th birthday party, when an old family friend, Derek, had asked for her hand in marriage in front of all her friends and family in the ritz and eyes of her parents, she agreed. It was a thrill of a night for everyone except her. She played along but all she could think of was Slash over and over. But she had to let him go. He didn't want her anyways. He didn't fight. He walked away right? That was him. She relayed these white lies to herself daily to soothe her yearning and bring her back to the reality she now faced. Marriage.

Derek was a snobby aristocratic heir to a local fortune. He was semi tolerable and had the money and connections that mattered in a world like theirs. What was love for anyways? Did mother love daddy? Is this just how it worked? How it was supposed to be? Y/N blinked out of her usual trance to find herself perched up on the stand in front of the mirror at the bridal shop. The beautiful white gown falling down around her body.

"You look STUNNING!" All the girls squealed with glee. While they all fell over her, she let out a false grin, but she floated above herself, watching from afar. None of it felt right or real and yet here it was.

And at the exact opportune moment, as she appeared giddy with excitement, surrounded by a parade of women, slash had found himself accidentally watching it from afar through the large store window that displayed the show room. The unfortunate coincidence of timing in which he had decided to return to town. His voice caught in his throat. That solidified reality then and there. Something inside him fell apart completely. He didn't know that Y/N was being married off against her will. At the expense of being homeless and shunned by everyone she knew. That if she had tried to protect him. He didn't know the power struggle that had plagued her all her life. To outsiders it seems to simple. To him, it seemed so intentional. Seemed so.....clear.

-

That wouldn’t be the last time they met. Another month passed by and Slash would find himself stung frozen at the sight of Y/N as she sat perched, alone at the end of the bar. Well past midnight. Slash swallowed his pride at one last chance at her presence before he lost her forever. He sat himself down next to her. She lifted her gaze up and over to meet his face. Both their hearts frozen in time. Every emotion, every look, touch taste- all flooding back in an instant. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked. Y/N paused for a moment to ponder this offer. Bending boundaries in her head to make this seem okay. What was wrong with two old friends catching a quick drink? “Sure.” She accepted. The silence was thick. With so many things left unsaid, yet neither dared ruin things further with more irrelevant words. “Seen you around town.” He said. She stared forward. “Oh yeah?” She stared onward still, almost too afraid to face him. For if she looked too long, she feared she might feel every thing she’s tried so hard to forget. “Bird said you’re engaged..” he continued. Y/N stood firm but felt nauseous at that statement. “It’s true. I am.” She replied, dead in the throat. She took a swig of her drink. Slash eyed her sallow movements. Silence still heavied between each word.

“Is he good to you?” He almost begged to know. That stung. Y/N turned to face him. Face her fears. Slash never fought for this. He didn’t fight. He didn’t come back. While it would have been a real shit storm if he did, why didn’t he? “Yes, Slash. He is. He’s a gentleman, he’s - he’s diplomatic, he’s-“ slash almost chuckled at Y/N fighting to express her satisfaction for her fiancé. He didn’t buy it. “-and he’s rich-“ slash added. Y/N flustered at slashes jab remark. “Well- I mean- yes but that’s not important.” Y/N defended. Slash scoffed “ Oh please.” He rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. Tears welled in Y/Ns eyes. She knew he saw through her. She felt silly and fake.

“Does he make you laugh?” Slash asked seriously.

Y/N turned back to face him. Tears streaming down her cheeks. “He doesn’t make me cry.”

With that, She stood up, placed a small kiss goodbye on his cheek, and left. There she was-gone once more. Gone forever. It took him every bone in his body to not chase her down. He couldn’t. She didn’t want him anymore remember? Slash clenched his jaw, if he didn’t, his eyes would also well with tears that stung so harshly. He couldn’t allow himself to slip. He couldn’t indulge in his pain. It would be too much.

So he sat, and he sipped.

-

Another week passed and Y/N found herself staring again at the stranger in the mirror before her. Commotion around her, muffled to a high frequency pitch. Staring endlessly into herself. Maybe searching for some sort of understanding of this all. A veil is placed upon her head and she comes to. “Stunning. My stunning daughter.” Her mother teared up at the sight of her daughter on her wedding day. Beauty waterfalled from Y/N at every inch. Everything seeming so perfect, and yet, Y/N could barely muster the energy to stand up. When the soul grieves so deeply, it takes all the ounce of strength from the body. Leaving a lifeless vessel in its wake. A vessel, is what Y/N had become.

She stood, arm linked in her fathers. And suddenly from the dressing room hours earlier, she now felt her feet shuffling forward- down the aisle. Staring ahead. Almost through her husband to be. The crowd rising to her entrance. Light whispers and gasps of endearment. She looked so beautiful and yet, felt so ugly inside. All of this was wrong. With each step she took forward, the urge to collapse became stronger. She held back tears, to which any onlooker could assume were from happiness. The tears fell anyways. They begin streaming mascara down her cheeks. Why did this feel wrong? Why did this feel like she was walking to her grave? She reached to alter to which her father handed her to a prideful Derek. No tears fell from his face, in stark contrast, he couldn’t help but express a look of shock and slight disgust as he saw her face from behind her veil, revealing to all in sight a completely tear and makeup streaked face. “Are you-okay?” He whispered half heartedly. Y/N paused. It was happening again, she was floating outside her body, witnessing it all from above. And suddenly hearing herself shout

“RUN!”

“FUCKING RUN!”

Slashes face appearing in glimmers upon her fiancés face. A shock of lighting shot through her.

“I can’t-“ she whimpers out a dead small mumble. The priest and groom lean inward in a confused look. “Dear, what was that?” The priest requested.

“She’s uh- she’s just got the jitters! Poor girl.” Derek chuckled nervously speaking on her behalf.

“I- I can’t do this.” She repeated louder. Shaking her head she stepped backward. A buzzed confusion beginning to spread like wildfire through the room as the ceremony wasn’t starting.

“Excuse me?” Derek chuckled arrogantly.

“I don’t love you. Derek. I’m sorry. I have to go now.”

The silence of the room broken at the sound of the bouquet hitting the floor. Gasps erupting, but Y/N could only hear or see one thing, slashes face in her mind, and the door to the chapel. Chaos and confusion rips through the chapel, everyone stands at their feet, heads turning as they watched her sprint to the door. Y/N heaving, sobbing, gasping for air. She exited through the large wooden doors and the fresh air almost choked her itself. She let out a breathy laugh/sob/sigh of relief and sorrow. Not even calculating her plan of action, just feeling the sweet release of that room. Of all of this. She continued her way down the hallway, out the main door, sunlight bursting upon her. The air had never felt so cool and calm and crisp. She knew exactly now with full clarity where she needed to be. As she began her journey to what she wanted, she halted in shock to find it no more than feet in front of her. Slash sat parked in his convertible black Buick riviera, smoking on a cigarette. His face expelled equal shock as hers. A mere beat goes by before she catapults herself into the passenger seat.

“Drive!”

-

“Are we considered fugitives?” Y/N asked. Head rested on slashes chest as they slow danced in an empty dive bar off the highway. Her dress still enveloping her frame. Slash laughed and tilted her head up to look at him. “I’m not sure doll. Would you like to be?” He gave an earnest look of jovial seriousness. If that was her wish, so be it. Y/N let out a wide, devious grin and pulled his cigarette from his mouth, taking a puff from it. Slash held her face in his large hands tenderly, about to lean in,

“Yes. I think I’d like that.”

[tuliptired]

He's Good People Ch.3

Chapter 3: I Didn't Mean to Take Up all your Sweet Time (I'll Give it Right Back to Ya, One of These Days)

Pairing(s): Gn!reader/Ray, Gn!reader/Egon, Gn!reader/Winston

Summary: (Winston centric, briefly Egon centric) To get out the firehouse, you 're invited for a day out on the town with the "common man" of the Ghostbusters, and he won't stop opening doors for you

Warnings: Reader wears masc presenting clothes for like one paragraph

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE :((( hope a longer update makes up for it!

read it on Ao3!

  It was fairly late into the night. You felt weird about going to bed while none of the others had returned, like you were overstepping. You were content with being curled up in a chair as Egon annotated a book in the dimly lit lab. He had offered you one of the many works from his personal collection, but the words started to lose their meaning after the first handful of pages. Maybe he ought to read it to you, instead. You set the book aside, much more interested in watching him. He had his sleeves rolled up again, fairly unnecessary because he was only working with paper and pencil.

He discarded his work for the second time that day, looking over at you. The need for sleep was creeping up on him, as his eyelids sat low and his gaze remained soft. 

"I´m sorry for boring you."

"I´m not bored. Are you tired? You don't have to stay up with me."

He put the pencil back into a mug full of others. He rose from the workbench, opening the book to a heavily noted page. Crossing over to where you were sitting, Egon joined you, holding it open for you to see. There were large, square photos of terrifying looking sculptures. Upon further inspection, they were really just recreations of exotic animals. A boa constrictor, an alligator, a giant salamander, a…platypus. Behind each of them stood a Victorian era man, beaming with self-worth at the spectacles surrounding him.

“See him?” He pointed to the man. “That’s Benjamin Fairhooke. He had a penchant for imported animals. And too much money. So much so he had the theater near your building constructed to show them off.”  He turned the page to a large spread of the theater in the late 1800’s, advertising an oddity show.

“They started showing plays and operas soon enough. But everyone knew how passionate he was. Piranhas-in-the-bar sink, frogs-on-the-staircases-passionate.” There was a photo of Fairhooke next to a woman. Despite her exquisite clothing, elegant features, and extravagant jewelry, she had a fairly sour expression, while he still beamed at the camera, an iguana in his lap.  

“That was his wife, Claira. Their marriage was falling apart while ticket sales peaked. They held their son’s wedding reception in the lobby of the theater.” He had a grainy photo bookmarked. There was a newlywed couple, normal. Claira’s in the background, though. Not happy her son was just married, but instead staring down the barrel of the camera like it was a gun.

“She had just found Benjamin in a parlor, tending to a snapping turtle. She got so mad, she took the shovel from the fireplace and managed to decapitate him in 10 minutes.” Holy shit.

He could feel your shock. “I know. She left him there for the rest of the night. They searched for weeks, until they found his body. She told them everything- just not what became of his head. His animals went missing, and his kids wanted nothing to do with the theater. Local legend says that the souls of his then neglected animals are still searching for Claira. Anywhere she could be. But it fell into obscurity. Everyone who believed in it died at the turn of the century.” He shut the book.

“So. The ghosts of a bunch of critters are running around my block, looking for his murderer? And one ended up in my washing machine?” 

“Essentially. I’ve wanted to investigate since I heard the story, but it was always word of mouth. I only just found it buried in an anthology of neighborhood ghost stories in Ray’s store.” He sighed, getting up and placing the book back into its place on his shelf. “He was pretty excited about my findings. He always is. But he’s been dragging his feet about it.” Egon looked worried, if not at least a bit frustrated, as he took a seat back next to you, knees touching unintentionally. You could understand, this was his longtime friend, after all. This all seemed very perplexing to him.

“Maybe he’s just scared? Of what he’ll find?” The words really don’t serve much purpose other than to soothe his nerves- they don’t convince you, even as they fall from your lips. Ray was a discerning and generally happy man, but he was still brave. He wouldn’t be a paranormal expert, a Ghostbuster if he was scared of what he loved.

You could tell his fears were still there. You placed a hand on his, silently grateful as you felt that they were still the same hands you held earlier.

“I promise, the moment I can get back into my apartment I’m gonna look for the key.”

There was the predecessor to a smile, before he had a look that read as accepting defeat. “I apologize for you being stuck with us so long. Only a day more.” Before you could protest, tell him that you’re having a wonderful time and you’re sorry for being in their hair, you heard cursing downstairs, followed by heavy steps approaching, making you jump.

Ray and Winston joined you upstairs, covered in thick, oozing slime of some sort. Winston held a smoking machine like the one Ray had after cleansing your house, only this time a bit more scratched up.

“It wasn’t a mannequin at all. God-damned-ghost-komodo-dragon on its hind legs. Sprayed us bad- we hosed ourselves off 6 times on the way home.” Winston tried wiping the slime moving from his glove to his wrist off on his pant leg, only making the viscous substance spread more.

Ray didn’t look angry, but he wasn’t bouncing off the walls. “This is big. Y’know that old theater-”

“I already explained it.”

“You’re kidding.”

‘’No. I explained Fairhooke, Claira, the ghosts. All of it.”

Winston could feel the start of a petty back and forth, so he discreetly asked you to follow him. He laughed and shook his head as he went down the steps to the very bottom of the firehouse. You had seen this room when Ray brought you down for pajamas, and you recognized the door he had peeked into, but not what was on the wall. A large, red electrical looking panel stared back at you.

“Ray taught me how to do this when I was new here.” He went through the motions of showing you how they used it to hold ghosts. You were glad he took the extra step and explained what it really did under the surface, because lord knows you were puzzled.

“He even made a rhyme. ‘When the light is green, the trap is clean’”.

“Does this make me part of your team now?” You complain, purely jokingly.

“You don’t wanna be? I wouldn’t mind.” You had to hand it to him, he had a charming way of disarming you. He didn't give you time to respond, as he made his way to the laundry area. He came back with new pajamas, softer looking ones.

“I hope these are a little more personable.” He handed you a light purple t-shirt, and dark purple sweatpants. There was thought behind these, definitely not something they had laying around in the hamper. 

You smile at the consideration. “Thank you.” He returned it, very white teeth and all. He gave you privacy to change, and was peeling his suit off upon your return. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, the mire of today´s job trying to stick to his skin. He finally got the soiled jumpsuit off, and it stuck to the floor like a glue trap. As he stuffed it into the industrial washer, another one tumbled out a laundry chute and onto a pile of dirty, but not slimy, clothes. He sighed, carefully picking up the soiled suit and garments and placing them in, too.

“What is it, anyway?” You watched on as he poured a cocktail of different, unmarked liquids, which you assumed were non FDA approved cleaners for these kinds of unconventional stains.

He pressed the washing machine closed, turning a few knobs and pressing a few buttons. “Ectoplasm. As graceful as it sounds.” You follow him, as he makes his way back up the steps.

“Like sticky skunk spray.” He stops in front of the sleeping quarters, and it gives you a moment to wonder why exactly you were still following him. As you start to mull over it further, he places his pointer finger over his lips.

“We oughta get out of here tomorrow. Ray’s gone to bed without dinner. Bad sign. It’s not pretty when he and the professor get into it.” He explains, voice hushed.

“Are they okay?”

“They will be. Ray stresses for a day, but he always apologizes, ‘cause he’s scared to lose his friend.” Winston smiles familiarly, thinking of the men he’s grown to know well over the past 5 years since his initial hiring. You can’t stop the spread of warmth under your skin as you think, too.

“Kindred spirits. I hate to see them both so worked up.”

“They can’t help it. They’ve got a new distraction running around.” 

You don’t have time to process it, again, before he’s halfway back down the steps to the first floor. You lean over the railing, just as he passes Janine’s desk.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t stop walking, until he reaches the exit. “I promised my mom I’d stay over. Be up early tomorrow, ok? I’ll take you on a joyride.”

“Goodnight,��� you wave, as he gives you a two finger salute, letting the door shut behind him.

You can’t really sleep- you don’t want to, anyway. Egon’s still upstairs, Peter’s with Dana, and Ray’s in bed by himself. As tempting as it is to go up there and console him, you really don’t want to come off as pushy. So, you had an apron tied over your front, sleeves rolled up and gloves on as you worked to scrub the slime out of blanched fabric. What a night.

The stickiness was seldom coming off, but you noticed progress. It would bubble and sud with the soap, but it was nothing a frequent rinse didn’t get rid of. The only problem was that it was thick, and it sat deep in the absorbent material. You lost track of the hours you spent, going down the line; Soaking, scrubbing, rinsing, scrubbing, rinsing, soaking- over and over. The need for sleep left you, as this housekeeping mystery kept you unwilling to give up until it was completed.

There was a click of the heavy door, and your thoughts of finishing the task as you feverishly scraped a suit against a large washboard suddenly ceased. Winston stood at the door, dressed and holding 2 cups of coffee-shop-coffee.

“Good morning,” his face was both impressed and fearful. You figured this was enough, as most of the slime sat mixed with now greenish water in the large sink. You carefully transferred it to the dryer with the others, and peeled your gloves off.

“Goodmorning,” you wiped some soap off your cheek with your wrist.

He handed you a cup. “You think you deserve a shower after all that?” You walked out the laundry with him, the warm liquid having the opposite of its desired effect as it made you the slightest bit sleepy. 

Your shower was quick and to the point. In the few days you’ve been there, your towel has had a permanent residence on a hook by the door, a fair distance from the other 4. You figured this would have to be your second day in the blue sweater, but you didn’t mind all that much. You managed to wash it as well the night prior, so it was dried and fluffed as it waited for you.

Winston ran into you on your way out the bathroom, something dark in his hands. He unfolded it, and stepped behind you to put it on your shoulders.

“What’s this?” You whipped your head around to watch his movements. 

“Had to pick this up from my mom’s, too.”

It was a dark purple jacket, the sleeves needing to be cuffed by him in order for your hands to appear. You could see a wide, black stripe wrap around the back and little pinstripes around the collar. You knew Winston was a more eccentric dresser than his coworkers, the brightly colored laundry telling you so, but to take something so nice from his mom?

“I can’t take this, She doesn’t even know me.”

“It’s mine. And it’s going to a good cause.” He drops your wrist. Taking a step back, he examines his work with a hand on his chin, an unsatisfied look on his face. He figures out what’s wrong, as he grabs the zipper from the bottom and pulls it up, the blue of the sweater underneath now hidden. There’s a pleased smile on his face as he takes another step back, before starting down the stairs.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the car,” and he disappeared.

While you were excited to get out again, to have some sort of normalcy for a day, but the urge to check the kitchen overtakes your legs. Your heart feared for the worst, you peek across the threshold, and you could’ve died then.

Egon was at the little table, pancakes, eggs, and coffee on two plates in front of him. The thing was, yours was untouched. He sat there, hands in his lap, face unreadable, until he noticed your presence. He didn’t light up, his features didn’t change, but you could’ve sworn there was a slight, upward twitch of the inner corners of his eyebrows. You felt a sort of nausea wash over you, that settled in your chest as you thought of what to say.

Walking towards him felt condescending, as if you were increasing the parameters of whatever obviously negative emotion he was feeling, but it was the proper thing to do. You folded your hands in front of you, unthreatening. Benevolent. He looked at you through his eyelashes, like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry. That I wasn’t around this morning.” To anyone else, this would seem melodramatic. A meal skipped out on between 2 people who have known each other for 2 days. But the way there was a flash of forgiveness, that you saw so often in the downcast faces of those young men and women around a coffee pot, weeks after their indulgence of passion. One of them did something. And the other so desperately wanted things to be okay again. They’d be engaged. You saw it on the faces of teenage actors, as their parents commented on a poor performance, before bringing them ice cream. It was the small injustices, from the people that you loved.

He opened his mouth to speak, before a honk from the garage cut him off. Winston was calling you, the unfortunate timing making you cringe.

“I’m sorry, again. I won’t be gone long.” He didn’t respond as you retreated to the door.

You reluctantly disappeared out the room, before appearing one more time.

“I’ll make it up to you.” 

You take your leave down the stairs, the garage door open as the Ecto-1a runs idly. Winston leaned over, opening the passenger door for you. Settling in with a huff, he turned to you as you pulled your seatbelt on.

 “Ready?” When you nod, he pulls the car out the garage, and onto the street. After a few minutes of driving from the firehouse, he reaches for the glove compartment, his hand emerging with a cassette in a purple case. 

“Hope you don’t mind Mj,” he grins as he slides it into the car’s slot. The singer’s voice fills the car, and he eventually joins in. He has an amazing singing voice, honestly, and you’re too compelled to take pleasure in his gaiety as he drives.

“The Jackson 5: Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, and Winston,” you tease him. The city’s awake with you, as children took their lessons on the blacktop of the school’s playground, and grandmother’s bought fruit placed in their foldable carts. A handful of dogs howl as your highly decorated car passes by. 

“I could never take Michaels place,” Winston crosses his heart, the cassette starting to play a Stevie Wonder song. He nodded his head along to the beginning of “Signed, Sealed, Delivered”. 

He enjoyed himself for the whole song, even roping you into joining in. Eventually, he turns the volume down a few notches.

“What music do you like?” He questioned, nodding in acknowledgment as you listed off your current favorites. As he waited at a red light, he skipped a few songs, claiming that you’d like this one more after the inventory you gave him.

You take another look around, as the setting gets more and more unfamiliar to you. “Where’re we going, anyway?” You tilt your head.

“Right now, I’m thinking the music store. But I have other ideas, too.” He pulls up to the curb of an aptly named record shop, shutting off the engine and opening your door from the outside before you could protest. The inside was fairly simple, musical equipment sitting on shelves behind a desk, records stretching around the perimeters of the room, and cassette tapes in the square middle.

The layout intrigues you, as your brain pings at recognizable albums. You shy away from Winston, flipping through a few records in your favorite genre. He reappears at your side, a small box of blank tapes in his hands.

“Are you recording something?” You continue to browse. He shakes his head.

“You’re gonna need your own tape to play in the car. We all have one.” He peers over your shoulder casually, taking in music he’s never heard of. You shake your head apologetically, fearing the effort it’ll take. He picks up an album you’d been eyeing.

He turned to look at you, eyes earnest and eyebrows slightly raised. “Make space for yourself.” Simple words. He wasn’t asking a lot from you. But he was speaking to you- I want you to survive. I want you to live. 

You have nothing to do but nod your head, no point in protest. He has a pleased smile, and examines the album a little more before putting it down. Something else catches his eye, and he brightens, mouth open in awe. There’s a full stack of reddish yellow squares, and he spins around to show you, eyes twinkling like a little kid.

“Tommy! I thought you didn’t carry Hendrix!” He chides the man excitedly, flipping the album around. You stand behind him to read the song list as well. Tommy merely shrugs.

“Best guitarist since Berry,” he proclaims to you. “Absolutely insane sound.” He had such a look of delight on his face. It was different from Ray’s- it wasn’t analytical, he probably didn’t know everything he could’ve about what he loved, but that only made him love it more. Winston’s joy was simple, but it wasn’t unimportant. As he talked on about the man he looked up to, his soft eyes crinkled, a wide smile meeting them. 

“I wasn’t allowed to play him.” He pulled out his wallet, paying for not only his newfound treasure, but the empty cassettes and your own personal favorite. “Not when I was at home, or when I was deployed.” Tommy handed him the items in a plastic bag. “But I paid my neighbor a nickel to let me when our parents weren’t home. I lost a lot of commissary that way, when I got older.” His story had a boyish tone to it, as he held the door open for you. He wouldn’t stop opening doors for you, insisting on it as you got in the car.

“Are you hungry?” His question makes you recall the other companion you’d forgotten at the firehouse, your heart filling with cement. You agree to lunch, knowing he really wouldn’t let you refuse.

Your next destination is a little restaurant, the area busier as midday approaches and working class America is looking for something to eat. When you enter (and he holds the door), there’s a teenaged boy behind the counter, packing orders and taking cash. The interior is smaller than you assumed, as the floor is taken up by the buffet-style kitchen behind the spot to order, and a  few tables and chairs. It smells amazing, though, and the menu looks even better. Winston watches you pridefully as you marvel over what to get, before his voice breaks you out of your stupor.

“Know what you want?”

“I can’t decide. It all sounds great,” you confess, the idea of choosing making your head hurt.

Winston chuckles at your response, guiding you to a little table and making you wait there as he chooses for the both of you. After letting some highschoolers get in front of him so they could get back to school before the hour ended, you see that he’s an exceptional conversationalist, becoming instantly acquainted with the people in line with him. He asks them about their day, listens intently, and when asked about his own he gladly replies with “day out with a friend,” pointing to you. You give a bashful wave to him and his newfound comrades.

He speaks familiarly to the kid at the register, counting things off his fingers, and even slipping him a bill that was definitely not a part of his total. He soon has two styrofoam containers in his hands, steam rising out the slight openings. He opens yours for you, the water vapor and aroma hitting you like a punch. There’s greens, mac and cheese, and fried fish staring you down as your eyes widen. While you were stuck in your hypnosis, he reached over, cutting your food for you.

It was like you died and went to heaven, before being sent back to finish your plate. You almost absentmindedly held onto the table to keep you tethered to the Earth. 

“You guys have kept me fed all weekend,” you say between rushed bites. It’s true- this is the best you’d eaten in a while. You swallow. “I can’t remember the last time I was able to stop and make actual food.”

“Egon treats you to breakfast, I treat you to lunch.” He raises his hands in a shrug. “Good?”

“Amazing,” you chew. “You seem to know this place well,” you suggested.

“I take lunch here everyday,” he wipes his mouth on a napkin.

“I can see why. Is it a favorite?”

“No, my favorite is the Jamaican lady down the corner.”

You raise an eyebrow, setting your fork down as he blissfully kept eating. “But…you know everyone here, they know you, you come here every day.”

He blinks. His tone is slightly quieted. “I know. But the owner’s trying to put his daughter through college. Any penny I can give to him counts.” He talks as if the act of selflessness was the simplest thing in the world. It amazed you, how easily kindness and servitude came to him. In your short time with him, he was nothing but humble and friendly with everyone he interacted with. The small smile that spread on your face was one of admiration, and genuine mystique at the kindly man across from you.

You chatted for a bit longer, about growing up, your families, before you were both finished. He tossed your trash, and bid the teen at the register goodbye before walking you back to the Ecto. Once inside, you couldn’t help but lean your head against the glass, your lack of sleep the previous night manifesting after eating so good.

“I think that knocked me out,” you tried hard to suppress a yawn in your throat as he turned on the ignition, soft rumbling making it harder.

“There’s a word for that,” he laughed. That was the last thing you could remember, before waking back up. The car was still parked in the same spot, and as you sleepily looked around, Winston sat in the same spot, peacefully reading a small book. Your stomach dropped as you noticed the time- nearly 3 o’clock.

“I am so sorry,” you stumbled through an apology, sleep still sticking to your panicked words. He simply took his reading glasses off, eyebrows raised as you rambled.

‘I don’t mind. I had my book.” 

“I didn’t snore, right?” Your skin burnt.

He paused. "It made a good ambience.”

You threw your head into your hands, Winston snickering at your expense as he started the car again. He drove out the area, sidewalk now full of families coming from school and work, in addition to teenagers loitering for a bit before they headed home. The scenery became less cozy and residential, and slowly became more retail, tall buildings advertising clothes and businesses. You recognized it as being your downtown area- albeit the parts you felt too low-income to pursue.

“What’s next?” You wondered if there was dried drool on your chin.

“I doubt anyone is talking to anyone back home.” Winston bit the inside of his cheek. He kept his eyes on the road, thoughts behind his eyes. He had a bittersweet look on his face, before speaking again. “When we didn’t have anything to do- or any spare money to do it with, my mom took my siblings and I to the department store.”

You’ve heard quite a few personal stories in the last few hours. Maybe it was his way of connecting. You decided to probe. “What’d you do?”

His face softened a bit, recounting the positive parts of the memory. “All types of fashion shows. Found future gifts to our dad. Made our mom promise to find us shirts just like the ones on the rack- and she did. We pretended we were the richest kids in the world. Preacher’s kids, we weren’t…terribly poor. But there were reminders. Mom made it better.” He smiled fondly, despite the car being stuck behind a bus.

The car moved forward. “I’m sure she’s the reason you turned out so well.” The car suddenly stalled, and you were honked at from behind. Eventually, you were parked against the busy sidewalk of a wide, tall building. The sheer size was enough to intimidate, as you still sat in the car, gazing at the top of the structure as he had the door handle in his hands.

You were estimating the floor count, before you felt a hand grab yours. His palms were soft, slightly calloused, but warm nonetheless. He looked down at your conjoined hands, before simpering back up at you. “So you don’t get lost.”

As Winston guided you through the bustling floor, your anxiety was substituted for security. The makeup counter was absolutely packed, as were the prom dresses upstairs. That made a fair amount of sense, as the school year would be ending soon. While on the escalator, you can see all the patrons, hurrying in and out with their bags. At the top, something in the toy section catches your eyes. Winston lets himself be led over.

“What a find,” you take a rectangular box off the shelf. It’s a nearly identical Smokey the Bear plushie, just a newer model. There’s a tribute to the old one printed on the back of the packaging. Winston watched as you reveled in the coincidence.

You remember his presence, and the lack of context he has for you suddenly admiring a children’s toy. “Ray sleeps with an old one. Smokey’s seen better days.” Winston smiles as you place it back on the display.

“Why not get it for him?” 

You shake your head swiftly. “I’d be dishonoring your mom. I thought the point was to not  spend money?”

He picked the bear back up. “She also says that you can’t take money to the grave. Maybe it can be a goodbye present? We can find something for Egon and Peter, too.”

You think on it. At this rate, there wasn’t much for you to repay their kindness with. Well-thought-out gifts paid for with Winston’s money will have to do, for now. You agree, before disembarking to a clothing department. You end up in the men’s section, articulate and hip pieces you couldn’t even dream of affording. Winston gazes up at the flashy, electric purple suit vest on a mannequin, as you sit back on a chair behind him.

“You like that one?” You sit up.

He puffs out a laugh at the outfits' pure hedonism. “It’s a lot. Even for me.”

“And you want it,” you rise, skimming the racks for the matching pieces in his size as he protests. You wordlessly hand them to him, and he surrenders, disappearing behind the entrance to a men’s dressing room. In the meantime, you’d look for Peter’s gift. To be fair, you knew him the least out of the 4 men. But Winston had told you he messed around too much in the lab, and lost his favorite tie to a small fire. He apparently never had time to replace it, and Winston could remember the exact brand, style, and color, so you figured he could single out the one you were looking for out of a short stack of silky, red fabrics. 

As you waited in a warmly lit lounge area by the fitting room, he emerged, holding his arms out and up to model it for you. The satin of the cream colored undershirt fit around him nicely, the bright vest even coming in at his waist a bit. He had the full ensemble on, even down to the suede loafers. He looked like a moviestar, even if he was too humble to actually admit it himself, the price tag swinging underneath his arm. 

“It’s something,” He looked at himself in the mirror, hands on his square hips.

“It’s great, that’s what it is,” you say honestly.

“You like vampire-soul-train?” He turned.

You put your hands up defensively. “I love vampire-soul-train.” He continued to look indecisive about it, confidence visibly falling. “Are you gonna come back for it?”

“Where would I wear it to?” He peeked at the price tag one more time, dropping it like it burned his fingers.

You shrugged. “You don’t need an occasion. Sometimes it’s just fun to dress up. Ask Janine.”

He laughs. “I guess you’re learning from the best.” He looks down pleasantly surprised at what he’s seeing on the floor. “If anything, I’d come back for the shoes.” He looks at you through the reflection in the mirror. “Did you find anything?” 

You look around at the dozens of clothes behind you. “I guess not.” There’s a lot to choose from, and a lot of bright colors fighting for your attention. It’s all a little overwhelming, looking at clothes you’d fall in love with and never buy. You end up standing in the middle of the department, scratching your head swimming with uncertainty, until Winston taps you on the shoulder.

“They have it in your size.” So you matched. 

“We look like a magic act,” you tease him, remembering Peter’s tie situation. After he pinpointed the correct match, you admired yourselves a little longer- at least until the staff were tapping you on the shoulder and asking if you needed anything, courteous smiles twitching as they watched you saunter around in their merchandise. 

You looked at more things in different departments- jewelry that you tried to convince Winston to re-pierce his ears for, home decor you’d have if your place was bigger. Eventually, he gladly paid for the 2 gifts, the large bag in which they were placed sitting next to you at an ice cream counter. As you ate, you both came to the conclusion that Egon deserved a decadent little chocolate cake from the dessert store you were at, and you hoped it would keep in the fridge overnight. 

“You ready to go home tomorrow morning?’ He put his spoon in his mouth. Butter pecan. You groaned lightly. You wanted to give them their space- and their money back, but it was like the ending to a pleasant dream, going from companionship and a warm place to sleep in a hard time to a now-damaged apartment and job fairs.

“As ready as I can be. Thanks, for putting up with me this weekend.” You put your spoon down.

“You won’t get rid of us that easy. We’ll be there to help you clean up.”

“The 4 archangels. I promise, when I get back on my feet I’m finding new ways to repay you all.” He dismissed your offer.

“It’s the minimum. Louis’ office was in the boiler room for a bit, you know.” He lightened your guilty mood. As he smiled, you noticed the now dark bruise against his jaw. Impulsively, you reached out and manipulated his face gently. 

“Does it still hurt?”

There’s a crash from the first floor. You both rush to the balcony railing, watching as people run to the exit, as feral growls vibrate around the large store. Winston grabs your hand again, though less tender now, running down the steps of the now disabled escalator against waves of people running up instead. When you reach the bottom, you watch in terror as an angry alligator destroys the store. As you looked on, you could see that the tail of the beast was vaporizing in front of you, as it hissed out a slime like the one you worked to wash out early in the morning. This wasn’t just an escaped animal. It was a ghost. Winston came to this conclusion at the same time that you did, pulling you towards the exit and to the Ecto. 

“Should we call Peter and Ray and-”

He opened the door to get his equipment. “They won’t get here in time. And they won’t have any  of this.” He grabbed a proton gun, staring down at it before sighing. “I’m gonna ask you to do something very dangerous.”

Your eyes flickered down to the weapon in his hands, before your mouth fell open. “Absolutely not. Dr. Spengler said that it was ‘unregulated units of atomic energy.’” He ignored your protests, putting the proton pack onto you. He pulled the belt tight around your waist.

“It’s easier than you think,” he said hurriedly, adjusting the straps on your shoulders. “Have you ever flown a plane?”

You stare at him, eyes blown and wide, before burying your head behind your hands. He pries them off gently, placing them each on different points of the gun. “Well then it’s just like driving a car. You shoot the ghost with this, okay? Just keep holding onto him, and I’ll open the trap for you. We’re gonna do it, and we’re gonna do it together.” 

Before you could revel in him talking you through it, he’s pushing you inside. Herds of frightened customers cling to the walls, out of the way of the ghost, and make room for you and Winston as they quietly whisper to each other that help has come. The alligator is ripping up a display, the woman in the ad subsequently dressed in Victorian style dress. Winston creeps up towards it slowly, before advising you to stay behind one of the makeup counters.

“I’m gonna tell you when. When I do, hit this button. That’s all. Okay?” You purse your lips, nodding, and crouching despite the nerves being felt in your weak legs. He leaves you behind, the ghost with its back turned as it tears up the poster. From your hiding spot, you can hear it notice him, growling loudly as it charges. He signaled you, and you popped up like a toy, shaky fingers igniting the stream.

He did the same, exclaiming loudly as you immobilized the spirit. He advised you to raise it up slowly, as the phantom flailed around. 

“What now?” You called over the volume of the particle accelerator whirring like crazy on your back, separated from your skin by a spring jacket and a sweater. He didn’t have an answer.

He hesitated. “You didn’t manage to grab a trap while you were out there, did you?” You could have fainted.  You saw his stream falter. “I’ll be right back. Keep holding him- I’ll be two seconds!’

His stream stopped, as he sprinted out the door, nearly slipping on ectoplasm in the process. The ghost thrashed harder, trying to resist the force suspending it in the air. You felt like the weight of holding up an adult alligator suddenly, and your arms couldn’t keep up with its fight. Your stream gave out for a split second, and in that time it was free, and on the floor. It locked eyes with you.

Your cry for Winston echoed throughout the department store- hell, throughout the city as you ran as fast as your legs could take you around the floor once, then up one of the escalators. You skidded to a stop at the end, as the chaos of the escaping crowd managed to knock down a large glass case, sending glass all over the floor. Your momentum didn’t stop you soon enough, and you slid over the shards before falling to the waxed floor. The ghost got closer, sending your heart to your toes as it opened its mouth, expelling a wave of noxious green slime. You saved your pride, ducking out of the way at the last second. You only had a moment to celebrate your triumph, as a quick movement of its ghastly tail reminded you of its ability to interact- and harm, the physical world. 

You got back on your feet, before noticing Winston run back inside out of the corner of your eye. You needed to get back downstairs, but all of the possible ways down were blocked. A large decoration swung from the ceiling, reaching fairly low to the ground. The ghost was creeping closer, teeth bared. If you die, please let your soul haunt the firehouse. 

Your nerves steeled themselves for you, hesitating on the ledge, before taking your literal leap of faith as the ghost lunged forward. You squeezed your eyes shut, only opening them when you felt your sweaty palms make contact with the course rope. You slide quickly, before remembering you actually had to catch the violent apparition. You reach weakly for the gun swinging behind you, forgotten, and feebly aim your gun at the glass part at the railing where it watched you. The glass shatters in its wake, and as you continue your ride down the rope, the ghost is caught in your stream, the speed at which you’re moving dragging it through the air. You reach a safe enough distance to the ground, letting go of your hold on the rope and dropping on your knees unstably. 

Winston’s been watching from the floor, regaining his strategy as the ghost hovers ahead. He sets his stream on it, and kicks a trap directly below. Your ears are ringing, and your heart’s beating at a thousand miles a minute as he calls on you to lower the spirit. With diminished resistance, the ghost is caught in the trap, smoking rising to the ceiling. The entire store is quiet. The smoke reaches the alarms, setting off the sprinklers, and the hostages erupt in celebration.

Winston lays an arm around your shoulder, speaking low into your ear. “I told you, it was easy. You’re amazing.” 

But you're still in a daze, and Winston recognizes it as he gently guides you to the car, avoiding reporters and even a few policemen. Before he takes you to the passenger side and aides you down into the seat, he raises your hand for everyone watching the news in the tri-state to see. 

“Y/N came, saw, and kicked its ass!”

You don’t say much as he drives back to the firehouse, siren on. You suddenly startle back to consciousness, turning to him in disbelief. 

“I caught a ghost.”

“You sure did.”

You laugh weakly, rubbing your eyes. Your laughter picks up, before it turns hysterical. You crank down the window, sticking your upper body out in ecstasy. This was the most alive you’ve felt in your entire adult life, and you let everything in the car’s path know.

“I caught a ghost!” You cry out as the Ecto drives through the city’s streets.

[glitterguts13]

Hello could you write a story on this little segment? ❤️

Dainkae

Prince regent Kaeya, titled Khaenri’ah’s last hope is expected to produce and birth an heir.

He enlists the help of captain Dainsleif in secret to impregnate him much to the captain’s shock. Dainsleif had always been weary of the prince and his clan for taking over the eclipse dynasty and it shows in how he fucks him- rough and ruthless, almost angry and violent.

On the day of prince Kaeya’s labour, Dainsleif is privy to the birth as a guard, he stands inside the chamber face impassive as he watches the prince give birth to his child- their child unbeknownst to everyone else. The scene is a spectacle, most of Khaenri’ah’s nobility inside the birthing chamber watching their prince give birth to their next blessing.

Meanwhile Prince Kaeya lays on the birthing bed, legs held back by multiple sets of hands of healers and alchemists. The room is quiet as hundreds of eyes gaze at him, the only sounds being murmurs of the crowds and the loud shouts, grunts and screeches the prince lets out as he labours.

Y'all feed me so good with these prompts.

Fingers running over the hilt of his blade, Dainsleif keeps his expression blank. He was simply another pair of eyes on the Prince, no more than just one of the crowd. He glances about, taking note of the excitement sweeping through the onlookers.

He's familiar with many of them, not on a personal level, but by status. Nobility from various families, houses, and clans. All alight with the buzz and promise of the future heir.

A frantic wail comes from the bed, drawing Dainsleif's attention. Hands curled into the sheets, heavy belly contracting, Kaeya lets out another panicked scream.

The healers are unphased, sharing looks with each other ranging from pity to irritation. Strong hands are holding his legs wide apart, drawn up close to his chest. His hole is on full display, leaking fluid and blood, cock bound to his thigh.

Dainsleif can't even begin to fathom how humiliating it must be. On full display, agony gripped his body while a crowd of near strangers gossiped.

Petty, but he can't help but feel a bit of satisfaction watching the Prince writhe in pain.

The healer slipped two fingers into Kaeya's hole, prodding around with what looked to be far too much force. Kaeya screams, back arching off the bed.

"Fully dialated. It's time for the Prince to begin pushing." A thrilled rush of whispers erupts from the crowd, but Prince Kaeya is less than pleased.

"N-No, I'm not ready, I don't think I need to push-"

"You don't need to think," one of the healers quips, "Just do as we say."

He pulls his legs further back, Dainsleif feels his stomach twist at the sight of the head of the child- their child- starting to emerge.

"Push." the healer commands, and Kaeya obeys, chin to his chest, legs trembling.

"Don't stop," the healer chastises as the Prince stops to suck in a rush of air. He whines, exhausted and hurting, but bares down once more. "Push...push, push push." the healer coxes, fingers slipping around the child's head, helping ease it free.

Another horrific scream rips from the Prince,

"Stop! Stop! It burns! Stop!"

Ignored, the Healer continues, pushing against the outside of his hole and helping the head to pop free. Kaeya screeches, attempting to roll away from the pain. He's held in place, arms now pinned to his sides.

"Push, push now." Kaeya isn't listening, he's too far gone in the pain, sobbing openly. The healer slides a hand inside of him, rotating the shoulders and tugging the infant free.

The onlookers break out into cheers and claps as the Healer opens up the crying newborn.

"A son! We have a future prince!" the Healer moves through the crowd, showing off the bloody infant while the others clean up the Prince and turn their attention to minding the mess between his legs.

Dainsleif knows he should feel terrible, watching as everyone ignores the exhausted, crying Prince. Not a single congratulations, no one asks how he is. The room empties, everyone following the Healer as they bring the infant out for further announcements, leaving Kaeya naked and alone.

He knows he should feel something, anything at all, but he doesn't.

[aquanova99]

Can you do a headcanon of the Volturi guards with a human mate that is chaos in human form. The littlest task get blown up into a big deal just cause their human was somehow involved.

You know that part from emperors new groove where he’s like “no touchy!”

Okay well this is me with headcanons “No humans!”

So because I said so, this will be someone who is very chaotic and makes things much more of a spectacle than necessary

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Alright so in these scenarios babygirl you cannot control your newborn strength or speed and, much to everyone’s shock, the clumsiest vampire to exist. They all thought it would calm down after the newborn years were over but it takes you decades and you still have problems every now and again

Alec 

You are stressing the poor boy out

Like he’s really tempted to sedate you just so you slow down

Broke a door because you opened it too hard? After the third time he’s probably going to yell at you and the things he will say will be far from nice and understanding

Will probably make you cry and only then will he try and find a solution

Gets you to go on missions so you stop wrecking their home, does not want anyone else upset at you

Jane

You’re gonna learn quick that you better slow down and be careful or you will get shock collared by her gift

I want to say that she tries to be patient at first but she, like her brother is just not that

She will try and talk to you about it

And to be fair she said it would mainly feel like a tingle so it’s more of a warning that you’re starting to move too quick or you look like you’re about to break something

But you know when you’re talking and you get really excited about what you’re talking about and someone says, why are you talking so loud? So you get kinda quiet… Yeah it feels a lot like that

Demetri

Puts all of things that cannot be broken away

You are not allowed in the library, like seriously he will give you tests to make sure you won’t break anything

Tries to work out most of the extra energy and chaos by taking you out of the castle

Lots of nighttime activities, Felix is debating tearing his ears out himself, twins want to kill you both

Demetri tries to find things you can do well so you shouldn’t get into too much trouble but regardless you better hope you’re gifted because Aro is debating kicking you out

Felix

Probably the most patient as usual, he had trouble co trolling his own strength as well

But thanks to that he knows how to get you distracted and mostly out of trouble

You’re the training exercise Guinea pig now, respectfully

You tend to break things on accident so when you try and cause havoc you’re a force to be reckoned with so you keep everyone on their feet.

Also asks you to go on missions so you don’t get into too much trouble, and thanks to your mate there’s not much complaining it he’s not risking it

[french-unknown]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: chopper, franky, brook, jinbe, bepo 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐖/𝐂: 1.2k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 1 | - | p t . 2 | 

You were walking alone in the streets of the island when you noticed Chopper in the middle of the main shopping street talking animatedly with children. Having toured the island and not finding anything that interested you, you wanted to see if you could steal something from him to cheer yourself up. The doctor must have had candy somewhere on him that you could steal. After all, nothing tastes better than free candy! And you'll buy him others on the way back to the boat to replace them.

Proud of your plan, you approached the reindeer, who was still gesticulating oddly in front of the children, and then, when you were right behind him, you jostled him to sneak your hands in his pockets. You quickly found what you wanted so you left as quickly as you had arrived under the "Hey!" indignant of Chopper who didn't recognize you.

Unfortunately, you stumbled just a few steps later when something grabbed your ankles. You collapsed on the ground and, looking towards your feet, you saw two arms out of the ground that were holding your ankles. Two other arms appeared on your waist to retrieve the candies in your pockets before holding you down. Finally, a last one blossomed on your shoulder to delicately raise your chin towards Robin who was looking at you amused from the other side of the shopping street. In front of you, Chopper also had a pair of arms pointing at you.

While initially happy to see you, the reindeer quickly lost his smile when he saw the pair of arms that held your loot. His features pulled into a shocked pout as he froze on his hooves.

You had a dream last night that you managed to rob the whole crew. Just one item from each but the whole crew anyway. So when you woke up, you got into your head to replicate your nocturnal feat.

Until then, everything was going well. You only needed Franky and Nami and then you would have everyone. Excited, you descend the Thousand Sunny until you find yourself in front of Franky's workshop. Already about ten meters away, you could hear the "supeeeeeer" from inside the room. Now that there was music, you silently pushed open the door to see the spectacle before you: the cyborg, unaware of his surroundings, was dancing in the middle of his workshop.

"Right! Left! Right! Left! Right! Left! Right! Left! Repeat! Aw!" he sang while dancing in rhythm. "One! Two! One! Two! Right! Left! Right! Left!"

You remained frozen for several seconds in front of his unexpected dance before sliding your gaze onto your target. A Hawaiian shirt without a pocket: nothing to steal. A little black high-cut brief: nothing to steal. Discouraged, you closed the half-open door without being noticed and left discreetly. You never noticed your teammate wearing so little cloth...

While Brook was playing the violin, you decided to see if you could pick his pockets. There was nobody around, his lack of pulpit meant that his clothes gave you enough space to steal without being noticed and, finally, why not?

So you entered your hand in the back pocket of his pants and, as you expected, the garment floated completely around his figure. Happy, you felt the corner of a sheet of paper under your fingers so you grabbed it without waiting. Unfortunately, the ship passed at the same time on a big wave. Unbalanced, your hands opened by reflex to seek support while you felt your body go forward. You had just enough time to put your leg forward to support you and stop your fall.

However, once the wave passed, you realized that the music had stopped. You looked up at the skeleton, intrigued, and were immediately greeted by two black holes staring at you intensely in the middle of an expressionless skull. Silence reigned for a few seconds. Now, with only Brook's upper body turned and leaning towards you, you realized that your hand was still in his pocket and, more importantly, that it was resting on something. In the palm of your hand, you felt a hard rounded shape that fit perfectly in your palm.

"You could buy me a drink before you touch my sacrament." He started laughing. "You got it? My butt, my sacrament with sacrament/sacrum. You got it?" Then he began to laugh without stopping. Embarrassed, you immediately took out your hand before leaving as quickly as possible. You were hoping he wouldn't bring it up at dinner in front of everyone.

You couldn't get your hands on him and that pissed you off.

When you quietly passed behind him while he was chatting with Luffy, you saw him glancing at you while you were still five meters away from him. When you tried to bump into him "accidentally", he was quick enough to avoid you effectively. When you brought him his dinner, which he had not attended, in order to use it as a screen to rummage his pockets, he asked you to put it on the ground far from him so that he could tranquilly finish his task. No matter how hard you tried, he was still aware of your presence. Even now, as he chatted with Usopp, you saw him giving you a curious look while you thought you were out of sight.

Yet, you tried one last time to get closer the same evening while he was absorbed in reading. He was standing in the library with Nami, who was pretending to read in a corner while she was secretly amused to see you struggling, but you were spotted as soon as you came off the ladder. Undeterred, you nodded back before settling down with a random book. Later, when you were almost sure he had forgotten about you, you silently put the book away before walking behind him. Unfortunately, when you were only a few meters away from him, you saw him blink before turning to you and wishing you good night. You remained frozen for two seconds under the mocking gaze of Nami, who savored the moment, and then you left.

You knew when you had lost the battle.

You walked into the Polar Tank with a smile. In your hand, you were bouncing a mysterious key that you had stolen from Bepo a few hours earlier and you were wondering what it was for. Did your favorite bear have a secret chest on the boat? Was it a meaningful key he shared with someone? A myriad of more phantasmagorical scenarios passed through your head.

Unfortunately, your good mood was shattered when you arrived near a corridor at the end of the submarine. You heard the voices of some of your crewmates accusing Bepo of losing an extremely valuable asset. In the background, the supposed culprit apologized tirelessly with a sad tone capable of making a pebble cry. Even if you couldn't see him, you could easily imagine him bending over at 90° to apologize for the fault he hadn't committed. It was not he who had lost the key; you stole it.

Remorseful as you listened to the accusations continue, you sighed. You made up your mind and, before you had to put up with another apology from the bear, you stepped out of the shadows to join them. You returned the key to them, telling them several times that Bepo had nothing to do with it and that it was entirely your fault. When you found yourself on chore for the whole month, you weren't too bitter as you remembered the relieved pout of your victim who had then sent you the most adorable of his smiles.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

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