#half a mask doesn't hide u !!

[ofskellingtcns]

–  🎃 👻 🌙

jasper skellington as the phantom from the phantom of the opera ( 2004 )

[grlpartdoll]

GASP. GHOSTY IS LOSTENING TO HIS URGES!!! EBRYONE HIDE YO MAMAS, HIDE YOUR KIDS!!!

no seriously. 18+. Minors blocked on sight :D!!!

Part ?? Of bodyguard series <3 thankfully the cameras were off for the day but (⁠⊙⁠_⁠◎⁠) also this is not proofread at all.

Written with Afab reader in mind but no mentions of genitals for the reader so it's really up to u to imagine! Errrmmm yes I think that's it!

CW : ghost cock :] (it's big btw) ghost-big-huge-giant-hands-riley.

"Will you sit down?" Ghost growls for the uptenth time, though this time he sounds more serious — more worried.

You do, if only because you're starting to ache down the waist worst then you did after practice.

You settle on the edge of the bed, and Ghost kneels there beside it, going to remove your tiny kitten heels for you. They're off in seconds, with his expertise in the matter of shoe removal (you'd forced him to learn how by always forgetting to undress before falling into bed for a '5 minute nap' and never waking up)

"Take yor'shirt off."

You immediately cover yourself, and though youre not even naked yet, you heat all over, shaking your head hastily.

"I'll see my physical therapist tomorrow — it's fine."

He fixes you with a mean glare you've learned means a silent plea from him to just listen.

You sigh, blinking multiple times to try and rationalize the fact that you're about to take off your shirt in front of Ghost. In front of the man you'd been not so openly having secret fantasies about.

You nod, then, as he fingers at the edge of your cardigan. His oddly big hands drift, slowly, as though memorizing every slope and hill of your skin. He undoes the buttons with surgical precision, keeping his touch light and professional.

Then, the warmth of his palms rise, and he lays them down atop your shoulders — slopping down your arms gently as he removes the fabric off of your skin.

You sit there, in nothing but a bralette, breath stuck in your throat with Ghost's hands working softly on putting the cardigan away.

You wriggle a little uncomfortably, and his focus shifts to you, his eyes snapping upwards and away from the green sweater.

"S'just me." He reminds you.

And it is exactly because it is just him that you're like this — twitchy and covered in goosebumps.

"I know." Your voice comes away breathy, as much as you had hoped it wouldn't.

His pupils dilate a little. You think. But he doesn't seem to notice at all. Only focuses on the blue and black of your ribs.

Your dance partner for a special broadcast performance had dropped you during rehearsal, and you'd been left with a few torned rib ligaments and a bruised torso.

Needless to say Ghost hadnt been too happy to hear about that — especially since he had been taking his first break in a long, long while.

When he came back around during your lunch and you were sitting there with ice to your chest, he'd glared at your manager and demanded answers. You're only glad the dancer had already been gone when Ghost made it to you — and that the cameras had stopped rolling for the day.

"Does it still hurt t'breathe?"

You try it, and nod when pain prickles at your chest. You wince, trying to wind down the pain by exhaling.

"You're doin' good." He praised, pressing a terribly gentle hand on the bruise.

"Still ache when I touch here?"

A whole different type of ache ignites in you when his big hand covers half of your torso — but you shake your head.

"Good." His hand slips lower, below the ribs. At your waist.

"And here?"

A noise makes it out of you when he squeezes. It's not pain — and he hears the difference. Still, he removes his hand, something shifting under the mask. His lips move for a moment. Not a smile — you know because his eyes don't wrinkle like they do when he gives you that shit eating grin.

"What was that?" He asks, voice rougher than usual.

"Sorry. Your hands are just.. cold." You lie blantantly, trying to sound natural, and failing miserably.

His hands rise again, and he lets them hover above your hips. "Can I?"

Dangerous territory. But you nod.

His hands wrap around them — and though you've never been known to be the smallest, or the biggest, his hands wrap comfortably around your hips. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head when his fingers press into your lower back, and you notice just how near to each other they are. There was no way —

He pushes again. Yes. If he'd wanted, if he had squeezed a little harder, you're sure he could have touched finger to finger with his two hands wrapped around your hips. Not your waist — but your hips.

Somehow that is the thing that breaks the dam, and you find yourself melting against his touch, a god-awful noise being pried from your throat.

He's quiet for a moment — doesn't dare move in case he's hurt you. But it takes only a few seconds for him to make the difference between a noise of pain and one of pure unadulterated want.

His voice is almost teasing when he says, in a condescending coo ; "What was that, Lovie?"

You whine in humiliation, trying to push him away, but he pulls you back towards him, your knees making a brutal 'tock' sound when you fall on the floor with him, body to body.

Something hard and hot and heavy presses against your tummy, and you gasp, eyes shooting up towards his. That couldn't be his — no. That thing pressed against your tummy was far too thick, far too big to be anything of the nature. And yet. It was an unmistakable warmth buldging through his uniform pants, something that you could almost feel was throbbing at your nearness.

"Can't be making all those pretty little noises, y'hear me?"

"It's not m'fault—" you're muffled when he presses his hand against your mouth, the roughness of it mismatched with the plump, healthy skin of your well-taken care features. His fingers tighten around your jaw, and keep a hold of you effortlessly, only the palm being enough to cover the upper part of your face.

"M'gunna have to keep you like this when I check you up from now on? Uh?" His body moves of his own accord, careening forward, his length dragging itself up — and down. A rumble grows in his chest, but never comes out from his lips.

"Fuckin' cocktease." He curses quietly, tsk-ing when you nibble on his fingers, brows furrowed in something that's not pain, but not quite pleasure either.

"Ol'right, olright," he grumbles, removing his hand, but keeping it below your chin. "'M g'nna be nice t'ya, kid. Let you rest."

"No—" your hands scramble to touch him in a slight panic induced spur. But he pulls back, catching your wrists.

"M'not doing this with'ya while you're hurt."

"I'm fine!" You practically choke out, trying to fight his grip. Unfortunately for you, though, your strength never compares.

"Enough." He says, this time more serious.

Your bottom falling onto the heels of your feet, you pout at him.

"Dun't give me that look. Promise when you're better I'll treat you real nice." He nudges the sharp edge of your face, before picking you up in one languid motion, placing you back into your bed.

"Promise?" You says, a bit breathless.

"Yeah," he lays you down gently, and you hiss as your body locks up. He helps you on the way down, though, humming and fussing all over you, making sure you're comfortable. "Promise."

He leans in, his hand pushing a dent into your pillow. "Close your little eyes, bambi."

You do. Nothing happens for a moment, but then —

His lips are on your forehead. His lips, unfiltered, undisturbed by a old war-hewned mask. Rough and chapped, so carefully grazing your forehead you almost want to cry.

"When I take you f'the first time, kid, the only thing you will feel the next day is me." He speaks against your skin. "Not sum' pain in your rib from another man."

You want to protest — tell him that that is just ridiculous, that the partner you'd been assigned for all but a month had nothing to do with the molten fire in your belly.

But you remain quiet, and sigh, your lashes fluttering.

He pulls back, and you keep your eyes closed. When his footsteps retreat, and his beefy frame audibly falls into his reserved chair, you twist away from him under the cover, and open your eyes to the blank wall in front of you.

You so badly want to look at him. Want to see that familiar face he'd graced you with only once when you were sick. But you know he has his boundaries. And you know how to listen to a command when he gives you one.

"Goodnight, Simon." You whisper.

He doesn't answer, but you know he's there, watching over you. Always.

[luveline]

jade!! i have a rooster request (ty if you do it, love u if u dont! ur my queen). i feel like rooster doesn't uh, relax a lot? so maybe making him chill out with a face mask or something? love u!

tysm for requesting, love u ♡ fem!reader

Bradley sits back against the headboard of his bed, listening to your quiet movements in the bathroom with that 'I'm so lucky' feeling coursing rampant through his veins. 

The bed is made —though the corners aren't as neat as Bradley would tuck them— the windows open, a box fan breezing the smell of a triple wick candle his way. Vanilla, coconut, and almond. 

He's trying to think of ways to pay you back for it while you're gone. You don't like accepting repayment for anything, not dinner, not stamps for your copious letters, nothing. He might tuck a twenty into your purse. Better yet, he might ask you to get married, have a portion of his wages wired to your account whenever he fancies. 

That way, you might miss him less. And he'd be much less stressed, if tonight is anything to go by; not because of your cleaning, which he is grateful for, but because your presence feels like a balm for bad nerves. You turn the corner into the bedroom with a muted blue pot in hand and his pulse genuinely slows. 

"Bradley," you say, opening your mouth to propose something. 

"Y/N," he says, putting his hands out to receive you, pulling you over his extended leg to sit across from him. You fold your legs underneath you, taller than him for once.

"Did you wash up when you got home?" 

"Clean as a whistle," he says, eyeing the pot with curiosity, and your dainty vest top with something else. "Want me to prove it?" 

"Do you want to do this with me?" you ask, placing the pot in your palm to show him the dark writing spanning the side.

"Clay Mask." He raises his eyebrows. "For my face?" 

"Yeah. It has chamomile and lavender, so the smell might be a bit cloying for you, but it's…" You tap the lid and shimmy closer, the sheets crinkling under your knees. This close, he can see the triangles of your lashes. The urge to brush them up rises. "Don't entertain me, okay? If you don't want to do it and this will actually make you more stressed, don't say yes. But if you're okay with it I think we could really chill." 

"I'm not half as stressed out as you think I am." 

"Well, half of your stress is triple a normal person's." 

Bradley puts his arms behind his head and tries to give his muscles a subtle flex. You know him too well, rolling your eyes fondly as his biceps dance. 

"It'll definitely relax me if you put it on me," he flirts. 

Your smile is impossible to hide. "You can close your eyes, yeah?" You shuffle closer still as he complies, the gentle hum of sound complimented by the quiet in and out of your breath and the shushing of of your plaid pants rubbing against his as you lean into his space. "It'll be cold," you warn. 

Bradley smiles. "Just lay it on me, sweetness." 

You unscrew your pot. After a moment, he senses your hand, and then cold spreads against his cheek in a soft lump. You smooth it down flat over the planes of his face, melting his heart with the care you show his scars. They were healed years before you met and still you worry you'll hurt him as your fingertip glides over his chin. The smell is heady but with a little hint of sweetness to tide it over.  

It could smell of chicken shit and he'd stick it out just to feel you touching him like this. 

"Do you ever wonder what your top lip looks like?" you ask as you paint the skin either side of it. 

"Nope. You like the stache, babe, you know you do." 

You sit back on your heels. Bradley opens his eyes, his skin cold and sticky. 

"How do you feel?" you ask. 

"Better already." And it has nothing to do with the face mask. He couldn't care less about how corny it is, but you've really made him feel better with your touch alone. 

"Will you do mine?" you ask. 

"You kidding? C'mere." 

He's halfway through painting your face when he starts to feel stiff around his mouth. "What's happening?" he asks, batting down his alarm. 

"It dries solid," you murmur, trying not to move too much under his touch. "Gotta wash it off." 

The mess of clay and water that runs down his arms as he does is enough to put his stress levels back where they were, but your soft laughter from beside him makes up for it. "Looking fresh, Bradshaw." 

He gets clay on his lips trying to kiss you. 

[splashthebird]

Some of my fav good omens headcanons (most aren't mine!)

Crowley changes into a snake when stressed / tired / etc. Aziraphale has set up heat lamps in his bookshop so Crowley can rest under them and stay warm. (Also Aziraphale watches him eep bc protective yes)

Aziraphale is autistic and masks around everyone, except for Crowley which he's comfy unmasking around.

Maggie is a demon / angel, but her memories got wiped. (Cuz when Aziraphale tried to make her forget what happened in that one s2 ep it wouldn't work)

Aziraphale / Crowley miracles money when they need it since money seems pointless to them

Aziraphale also magics in small items from Amazon when needed because he doesn't know how computers work

Crowley doesn't blink cuz he's half snake.

Crowley and Aziraphale have to hide their wings on earth, but it feels like they are all squished and stuff. Every once and awhile they un hid them and peern each others wings.

okay dookie thats all THANK U!111111111

[we-are-inevitable]

can i force u to think abt newsies and masks and types of heroes. can i force it into ur brain. maybe. -@jack-kellys

ill do you one better.

---

"It's bad," Jack says, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can catch them. "I'm bad, David. I'm bad luck."

They're sitting in the rubble. Something is burning, and neither of them know what it is. Up in flames, they said. His partnership with David, whatever that means, would end up in flames. And Jack had fought hard to provide some sort of safety, of stability, but when have his wants ever mattered that way?

"I don't care."

And there David is, breaking through his defenses.

Jack is sitting on his knees on the ground as it happens. His face is bare, smattered with blood and dirt and grime, and he watches, shaking, as David kneels in front of him. David picks up Jack's mask from the ground. Two jagged halves, split.

Slowly, he looks up, and Davey takes in Jack's face for the first time.

Jack fights back the urge to cringe. He knows what he is. He's rough edges, he's scars and imperfections, he's a split lip and bruised eye socket and nothing good. Nothing pure, nothing David deserves to see.

"I don't care," David repeats, his voice softer. "I understand. You don't have to be perfect, Jackie."

"But I do. I have to- I have to be good."

"You're good just like this," David's hands shift, and Jack sees him gently place one half of the mask in his hand with the other, then uses his free hand to gently cup Jack's face- a mess, a rotten thing, something to be concealed. "You're good just like this."

Jack doesn't know if he believes it. Not even as David's thumb runs along his cheekbone.

David pulls his hand away, then looks down at the broken mask. He puts the pieces together, then slowly holds the mask up again, hiding Jack's face.

"This is good too," he whispers. "You can keep this, if you'd prefer."

Jack takes in a shuddering breath. "I can't- Davey, I..."

"I know," David says softly, smiling like it's the easiest thing in the world. "I know. You're okay."

With trembling hands, Jack takes the mask. He holds the cracked pieces to his face, and David leans forward, pressing his forehead to the mask- accepting it. Accepting Jack, in any form.

Up in flames. Down in smoke.

Jack can be the hero if David's by his side.

[uriekukistan]

hello rinnnnn i wld love to hear more about your thoughts on tg!itfs + maybe nobara , specifically in terms of kagune !! full transparency since u sent me that ask the concept has been marinating in my brain and even if it'll probably b a while before i get around 2 designing anything i welcome th opportunity 2 hear any outside ideas !!!!

hii hina :D hope ur doing well !!! dkjgh i love this ask thank u for sending it

tbh i kept going back and forth between drawing my ideas out or not but i think im gonna explain them w words bc im better at that and i trust my ability to convey ideas that way....compared to art where i Do Not

also disclaimer this is within the context of the mini au i have created in my brain (and google docs. but i need to redo it. no longer satisfied)

anyway! tbh i had imagined yuuji as just a human, mostly bc he reminds me a lot of hide at times :') and he takes a similar role in the story i had planned, so i dont rlly have a kagune design in mind for him unforch, but if i could imagine one i'd kinda take inspo from true form sukuna and give him smth like this (saiko's kagune that she used against urie when he framed out pt 2. it's a rinkaku, i never understood the ghoul biology stuff tbsh)

megumi is the one i had the clearest idea for, he's an artificial one-eye, and again i dont understand ghoul biology, but i took design inspo from nue bc hello nue is so cool. my fav shikigami in terms of design. i havent determined how, but he does end up w a half-kakuja (probably gonna put him thru the horrors so he'll cannibalize) mostly bc i wanted to give him a beak-like mask. and then his kagune is kinda like. ayato mixed w yomo if i had to give it a good comparison. wing shaped + electricity (theyre both ukakus so ig that makes him an ukaku, im just picking things based of their techniques in jjk)

for nobara, i'm leaning towards a koukaku bc its pretty dense and durable like....a hammer :D most of the users in tg have it as a blade, but urie has used it as a blade and a shield (tsukiyama too maybe? i have urie tunnel vision hence the username) anyway im not picturing it as being exactly hammer shaped but more vague. hammer inspired if you will (rlly leaning on the technique -> kagune crutch, character design is not my forte and i cannot visualize things to save my life). i also had her as either an artificial half ghoul (quinx?) or as a full ghoul waitress at anteiku

my plot needs some serious reworking, but i have yuuji and megumi as childhood besties à la hidekane, and megumi is the one who gets kanekied (sort of). secret long term pining megumi who doesnt think yuuji would be interested bc hes focused on getting a girlfriend. he doesn't have qualms abt eating ppl, but he does worry abt killing people (at least at first, there will be spiral of doom). it rlly needs to be redone overall,,,but external circumstances prompted me to push it to the side and take up another project instead

this feels super disorganized sorry omg TT_TT i think bc i decided to nuclear bomb my previous idea recently, and now i have nothing bc i never started rebuilding the plot or anything

[fucktheark]

(some) creepypasta/marble hornets music hcs :)

these are mostly from my own playlist they aren't accurate at all this is just 4 funsies lololol

also i highly doubt anyone will even see this post but if u do drop a song rec plz im struggling finding new music </3

tim (specifically him cs masky is too busy going apeshit 4 music)

old man music but like cool old man music (this is just what my father listens to LOL)

thinks he's got peak taste and snickers at everybody else's song choices

breathe - pink floyd

pet sematary - ramones

the chain - fleetwood mac

aerials - soad

lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley

hoodie

i pulled this out of my ass tbh but imagine 80s fan brian

kinda likes lil peep but would never tell a soul cs he thinks he's too old for it

doesn't rly share his music with anyone bcs he's afraid they're not gonna clown him for it

she's in parties - bauhaus

the brightside - lil peep

the ghost in you - psychedelic furs

messages - a flock of seagulls

hotel california - the eagles (cz y not)

jane

i never rly obsessed over her so this is js based on the vibes i get from the art i've seen of her (so pretty bruh)

echolalia - faetooth

nine while nine - sisters of mercy

closet - fleshwater

engine no. 9 - deftones

frigid and spellbound - spectral wound

nina

no way totally unexpected music

i think eventually she grew out of screamo and scene but never rly let emo go entirely

acid - ghost town

get away with murder - jeffree star (yikes)

what you need - bmth

freaxx - brokencyde (she's been in love with this album since it came out)

vampires will never hurt you - mcr

jeff

i like think that after what he did to his family he just kinda checked out from earth and stopped keeping up with most pop culture, so he's still listening to the same music he did back then.

peak edgy middle schooler vibes

never tires of his playlist

every now and again he comes across something new and gets obsessed with it immediately and probably forever

yen - slipknot

makedamnsure - taking back sunday

don't go - bmth

tourniquet - marilyn manson

crewcabanger - chelsea grin

toby

I-C-P FOREVER WITH THE JUGGALOSSSSSS

still enjoys twiztid even after the beef but secretly because it makes him feel like a poser

also likes jeff buckley but feels kinda cringe for it

the stalker - icp

house of mirrors - icp

my 1st time - dark lotus

2nd hand smoke - twiztid

grace - jeff buckley

liu

same reasoning as jane i know like nothing about this dude and even less about sully so i'm not even gonna attempt .

i fw his vibe tho

eye - smashing pumpkins

the man who sold the world - nirvana

heaven - talking heads

the sickness - imminence (he's gotta be a lil emo come on)

siamese twins - the cure

eyeless jack

this one is kinda hard tbh but considering his hypersensitivity to sound, i feel like he wouldn't enjoy anything too noisy

likes songs with a lot of bass because he can feel the bass reverberating through his body when he wears headphones

soft/airy vocals!!!! he hates screaming

doesn't rly stick with a specific genre just whatever makes his ears tingle lol

a forest - the cure

dark stone - holy fawn

hide and seek #1 - plastic tree

the thing - pixies

collabo - june freedom

BEN

bitch spends so much time on the internet he discovers new music every day

listens to everything but tries to flex the really obscure shit he finds in the depths of youtube (he wants to be cool but it's kind of pathetic.)

his playlist is MASSIVE and a mess, he usually has to skip through half of it before finding something he actually likes

i don't know why but he'd be into haunted mound

plays the majora's mask soundtrack when he can't think of anything to listen to

husqrider - turnabout

fentanylism - opiated devilsperm

starting over - lsd and the search for god

gou zin zan goku - deviloof

ugliest - $uicideboy$

laughing jack

he's old af and probably doesn't get modern music tbh

classical music it is

and opera

i'm not gonna make a whole playlist but he really loves erlkönig because of the story lol

[another-lost-mc]

1, 4 & 8 under relationships and personality for your demon ocs pls hehe (or just 1 if u don't wanna answer multiple questions 👻)

Oh these are great questions! I'll answer for all of them. <3

What's their relationship with the cast?

They're all potential platonic/romantic candidates for MC. 💙

Karasu: I actually detailed his relationships with the demon brothers here, and a more in-depth look at his relationship with Mammon can be found here. For the most part, he can get along with them easily enough.

Azra: Easily aggravated by Lucifer and avoids him. Doesn't really interact with most of the brothers except for when they're at the club. You could argue that he and Asmo are friends. Asmo spends so much time at The Fall that they see each other a lot and get along. It helps that they're both lust demons and interested in the Devildom fashion/beauty scene.

Zekhan: Very rarely interacts with the demon brothers except for Lucifer or Asmo. Sometimes he speaks to Lucifer if there is a special party or event being hosted at The Fall. He also sees Asmo frequently so talking to him isn't too much of a chore, even though he thinks they have nothing in common.

Metatron: Was intimidated by Lucifer but got along with the others when they lived in the Celestial Realm. He used to be close friends with Azra before he fell, and his feelings about him now are complicated. (After getting over his initial shock and fear of Satan, he'd probably get along with him since they're both such avid readers.)

What is a character trait that will immediately make them despise someone? On the flip side, how can you easily win their favor?

Karasu: He would despise someone that broke his trust. In a romantic relationship, this would probably mean cheating (emotionally or physically). You can earn his favour by being genuine, honest, and kind without pushing him outside his comfort zone.

Azra: He hates being bossed around or talked down to. It's not hard getting on his good side though: he appreciates honesty, humor and authenticity. He gets tired of demons who only want to know him for his money or his looks.

Zekhan: He would hate someone who is pushy or doesn't respect his boundaries, especially when it comes to his personal space. However, if you want to get on his good side, the best thing you can do is be patient and kind with him. He'll warm up to you faster than you realize, even if he doesn't show it right away.

Metatron: It would be hard to like or forgive someone that manipulates him or betrays him in some way. Someone wanting to be friends should show an interest in books/learning and being open-minded.

Are they easy to read or do they mask their intentions perfectly? Are they manipulative? A good liar maybe? What are their tells?

Karasu: He hides a lot of his thoughts and feelings behind a screen. He's very reactive in-person and it's harder to hide his feelings, especially ones that lean towards the romantic. He's not a great liar.

Azra: He's perfected a bland, charming mask that allows him to fit in with the other powerful and popular demons in the Devildom. He's a good liar and he can be manipulative when it suits him. His eyes and hands will give away the first signs of anger or frustration he feels.

Zekhan: Poker face for days with most people. He's confident and authoritative and it's hard to get a reaction out of him. He can be manipulative but he avoids outright lies if he can. It's rare that something stuns or upsets him into silence. He will disappear (you think) if he's ruffled - but really, he's just watching you from somewhere close by and trying to figure out how to solve you like you're a very stubborn puzzle.

Metatron: He wears his heart on his sleeve. He's an optimistic the-glass-is-half-full, sees the best in everyone type of angel. He wouldn't want to manipulate anyone, but he could lie convincingly if it was important enough. (He will be very regretful later.)

OBEY ME MC & OC ASK GAME

[omegawolverine]

hi can u tell me what dinner in america is about? i wanna watch it but i wanna know what i’m signing up for!

omg hiii yes :3 im bad at explaining movies so bear with me here but like. okay so id say it falls in romcom territory, idk what the official genre is but it's definitely a funny romance so we're going with that. the main idea is that this guy simon is lowkey wanted by the police and he ends up hiding in this girl patty's house out of convenience bc they run into each other and she recognizes him from a class they had together in college (they're like 20). during this first night when he convinces her parents to let him stay by lying through his teeth he finds out that patty is a huge fan of the punk band he is a frontman of but she doesn't know it's him bc he wears a mask to every show and she's been sending him these love poems (amongst other things...u can find that out for urself) that he's saved literally every single one of bc he thinks she's like a lyrical genius and he's kinda infatuated just by that alone (and the other things inside them........lul)

one thing to note is that patty has some unnamed disability (or multiple bc it's kinda implied she might also have epilepsy and she's on 5 different meds), the popular theory is autism which i think checks out pretty well, so a lot of this movie features her getting called retard amongst other similar comments. i say this both as a warning but also bc it's pretty plot relevant as a huge part of the movie is simon basically helping her get back at people but also grow into herself and learn how to defend herself bc she kinda just let's people treat her like shit bc its her normal (even her parents infantalize her so ofc she thinks it's okay when everyone else treats her like she's stupid).

i don't wanna give too much else away but yeah long story short: fangirl accidentally meets her idol and he falls for her and she falls back before even knowing and they help each other grow yayyy! other general warnings are like homophobia i guess but when simon says dyke and fag it's like yeah he's def a fruitcake so whatever but other characters also do it so ya know! and also obvs the ableism and there's like sexual harassment in a couple scenes but it's like. akin to kurt and ram from heathers type weirdo shit, if that helps paint a picture. mostly the movie is just funny and cute tho! very heartwarming in the 2nd half imo <3 lmk if you watch it and what you think!!

[valhallakonbi]

u said not covid but inane ask time, which chars would still be masking properly and which wouldnt.

LOLLLLLLL ok well everyone is japanese except shinobu so my immediate answer is shinobu KFHQDJFHQJKDF

i haven't read shinomonogatari btw (it seems fantranslators didn't like it so they haven't worked on it) but i just remembered COVID-19 IS CANON... so i don't know if any of this has been adressed already in story... i will answer with what i believe would match everyone... sorry if it's OOC you guys.....

now... as the epidemic slows down and people in society start wearing it less, i think (pre-kuchinawa) nadeko would keep it on most of the time, without any suspicion or symptoms or anything. she just wants to hide her face from as many people as possible for as long as possible without anybody questioning her about it.

even though he probably wouldn't have to deal with covid in any significant ways, koyomi keeps it on at all times. he's a canon neat freak and kind of a goody two shoes when it comes down to it.

senjougahara is smart enough to know exactly when it's appropriate to wear it and when wearing it becomes useless (like wearing it outside in vast, uncrowded spaces). same for oikura.

hanekawa wears it for exactly as long as the recommendation lasts.

kanbaru exercises a lot so she has trouble keeping up with it. since she becomes a sports doctor later on i feel like she would feel some kind of responsibilty when it comes to disease transmission after graduation.

i feel maybe meme wouldn't wear it since he's a giant loner and it looks lame? yotsugi also doesn't wear it, she has no use for it...

ougi wears black ones. similarly to nadeko they enjoy wearing the mask. mysterious...

karen wears it and is normal about it. tsukihi is extremely pissy about having to wear one. she goes along with it but only for impressions. miraculously enough, despite frequently crossing the line, she never does get sick (she's a phoenix). if wearing a mask wasn't proper japanese etiquette and their experience was closer to how westerners had to adapt to covid, i think half the time karen and tsukihi put their mask backwards or inside out or below the nose. (koyomi scolds them)

hachikuji is a little kid so she gets away with not wearing one, even though it doesn't really matter to the only people who know about her. she boasts about it in front of koyomi and makes fun of him. shinobu joins in and also makes fun of him.

kaiki somehow builds an empire out of covid paranoia and manages to sell all kinds of charms during the crisis. he would wear it to begin with, but the mask also helps not getting caught...

[extsev]

The Silly Story PT 1

(FOR MY FRIEND AND I, READ IF U WANT BUT JUST KNOW IT ISNT AN X READER) THIS IS AN AU OF SOUTH PARK BTW

This high schools a hell hole. Mila and I are considered "the weird kids," as you may call it. For some reason, we're not bullied as much as the others. We're kind of just, ignored?

There's these four kids. Eric (well we call him Cartman because its his last name,) Kyle, Stan, and Kenny.

Eric wears a red sweater with a blue scarf, and dark brown sweatpants. His outfits pretty simple! He doesn't really talk much, he's nice.

Kyle wears a trapper hat, with fluffy flaps to cover his ears. He has a black turtle neck, with an orange button-up jacket on top, black sweatpants, green gloves and a blue necklace that adorns on top of his outfit.

Stan wears a red button-up, with a half zipped brown jacket. He wears blue jeans. He used to wear a blue and red beanie, but eventually ditched in middle school.

Kenny's outfit is my favorite. (Along with Kyles, but shh...) He wears an orange parka, with light brown cargo pants. He used to like matching his pants and parka with the same color, but decided the brown looked better. Good on you for color theory! Instead of hiding his face with the hoodie like he used to do, he just wears a fabric mask to school.

During the years they've gone to this school they've just made it worse. They torture the kids here to the point some even went to the hospital. I don't know why the school doesn't do much about it. The most they get is a suspension, never kicked out of school.

Surprisingly, even though my bestie and I are "weird kids," we're not beaten up. We're just ignored. That's good, but it kinda sucks when no one knows who you are.

"Sev! Wake up girl, it's lunch time. I gotta go get my lunch. And, y'know, you don't have to since you get the free lunch shit.... Sev? Heellllooooo...? Girl, are you narrating your life in your head again?" I wake up from my trance, as Mila snapped in my face.

"Fuck- Sorry! And uhhh... Maybe..." I shooed her away as I got up in embarrassment.

She facepalmed, and dragged me into the hall. "Ughhhh... What have we talked about..? This ain't no Disney movie! Plus, it's really distracting you now. All you do is zone out and imagine scenarios!"

"But it's fun! Plus," I brush my pants off from the dust of my chair, "I don't have to deal with being ignored 25/8 if I imagine that stuff!"

"You'll still be alone eiithherrrr wayyyyyy!! Although, you do have me!" Mila flipped her hair smiling, as I walked away. "Noooo! Don't leave! I need to go to my locker!"

I chuckle and turn to her, "Just meet me in the lunch room, m'kay?" (haha.. mkay..? ... shhh)

IN THE CAFETERIA

I grab my lunch, and walk over to the spot her and I always sit in. Suddenly, I bump into a tall dude. Bruh. Move, the fu-

OH. Okay, never mind. It's Kyle. Oh shit. I knocked his stuff out of his hands too. I'm definitely screwed, this is how I become known. Literal dead meat.

"I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Let me get your stuff." I mutter, reaching for his bag.

He slapped my hand off his bag. "Don't even bother," he spoke, picking it up. "Who the hell even are you? I've never seen your stupid face around here."

"Oh! Uh, I'm Sev! I'm still really sorry.." I scratched my neck, I'm so stupid. He stayed silent for a moment, but looked to his friends.

"Sit with us."

HUH? BITCH WHAT? HELLO? "Well uh, I always sit with my friend Mila!-"

"Sit. Now. She can sit with us too." He told Cartman to push a seat out on the opposite end of the table, and he patted it.

"Well, if you insist..?" I sat down near Cartman, who clearly was always terrified. How is he still friends with those 3? Well, I mean he is stuck. I spot Mila, and wave at her to gain her attention. She stands in total shock, sweating at the sight of the boys. She runs over, clinging onto the sleeve of my blue hoodie.

"Why are you sitting with them..? They could completely bite your face off!" She whispers into my ear, as they glare at her.

"C'mon, sit down! It'll be fine!" I whisper back, and drag her onto a chair.

"So.. What do you guys do after school for fun?" Stan questions, poking at his food.

"Well, we like to go to 7-11! Or that good ramen place on park!" I spoke, as Mila looks at me with terror in her eyes.

"Sick. Which 7-11?"

I draw a line of the road with my fingers as I talk, "Y'know the one near the gas station? And the little park right there!"

"What do you get there?" Kenny finally talked, shocking Mila and I. I thought he doesn't talk?

"I love to get orange Monster! Or a coke-" I state, but Mila cuts me off (although I don't care because I was about to stop talking anyways.)

"I like pink lemonade!" Mila slowly lowers down because she talked. "Sorry.."

"Mila it's okay girlll!" I reassure her, patting her shoulder. Kenny leaned over, whispering in Stans ear. Stan nodded and whispered back, as Kyle added on. Cartman, Mila, and I sat there confused.

"Uh, do you wanna like.. Hang out with us after school? Kenny'll pay for you guys."

Mila and I look at each other giggling like idiots, and I exclaim, "Heck yes! We'd love that!"

[etsuven]

♡Smile for the Camera - pt: 2♡

pt: 2 of "smile for the camera" ft: diluc, xiao, and albedo (i remember xiao's portion being so fun to write sdjfhkjd)

cw: xiao crying a bit (mentions of sobbing). albedo gets fucked, but i just used the word cock to avoid having to constantly type "cock/strap" (though i did use it like, twice) albedo's portion is also kind of long

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

diluc

-

-this man hides his face in his streams with a mask that only covered his eyes

-he could just keep the camera below his neck or chest, but he has the tendency to double over when he's close/overstimulated, which would equal giving his fans a free face reveal (we can't have that)

-his bright red hair doesn't help either, but luckily no one has noticed him because of it

-he normally streamed once every two weeks, but he decided to change that one day because of a certain fan of his...

it all started a week ago when diluc was streaming. it was nothing special, just a simple masturbation session with a small vibrator that had bought the week prior. he had been edging for the past half hour or so, already being worked up from something he had been thinking of earlier and throughout the day.

the man was laying back against some pillows, his eyes closed and mouth open slightly as he focused on the vibrations. he slowly dragged the vibrator up and down his cock, moaning softly every time he came across a particularly sensitive spot.

all of a sudden, a small 'ding' rang through the room, signaling that someone had sent a donation. diluc reluctantly opened his eyes, squinting through his blurry vision as he tried to see who had sent the donation.

his eyes widened in shock once he saw how much it was. the caption read "private stream next week? ;)" and whoever sent it had added $2,000 dollars along with the request.

"(u-username), that's too much! but of course, anything you want!" diluc said, his brain struggling to comprehend how much this person was wiling to send just for a private show with him.

and that's how he got to this point.

diluc was sitting in front of his camera, adjusting his high ponytail as he waited for (username) to join the stream. he was pretty nervous, more so than normal when he streamed for hundreds of people. maybe it was because it was a private show, something between him and the donator alone, something that no one but them would see.

a few minutes later, he saw a name pop up on the screen. "(username) has joined!" the message said, making him smile.

"hello. thank you for coming." he said, waving at the camera. another message popped up. "hello! and thank you for accepting my request for a private stream!" diluc laughed, looking at his lap as he suddenly became more nervous.

"um, thank you again for all of the money, i really appreciate it." you smiled softly on the other side of the screen, typing something to reassure him. the two of you spoke for a few more minutes, getting to know each other better and get more comfortable.

once everything was settled, diluc pulled out his vibrator from the week before and a fleshlight that looked to be new. "i bought this yesterday... i hope you like it." you watched as he grabbed a bit of lube as well, pouring some of it on his cock.

he wrapped his hand around it, sighing softly as he looked into the camera. "t-this is all for you, i'm all yours for two hours. so feel free to ask for and do whatever you want..." he began to move his hand, watching intently just incase you typed something else.

a few seconds later, a message popped up in the chat. "could you use that fleshlight for me once you're all warmed up?" diluc nodded, groaning before speaking up again. "y-yeah, of course..." he continued to touch himself, trailing his other hand up his chest for a little extra stimulation.

after about half an hour, diluc was more than ready to try out the fleshlight. he took his hand off of his cock and grabbed the fleshlight, pouring some lube into the opening. he then positioned the toy before slowly pushing it down, his mouth open in a silent moan.

you watched as he twitched a bit before looking at the camera, his cheeks tinted a bright shade of red from slightly under his mask. "i-i'm sorry... i came a bit too early..." he watched as another message popped up, urging him to continue.

this would be harder than he thought...

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

xiao

-

-pretty boy™

-he's very popular

-mean/rude vibe, so it's nice to watch him crumble thanks to some simple stimulation

-very sensitive

-he also has the prettiest moans. they get kind of high when he's close, and he tends to whimper a lot when trying to hide them.

-his streams are pretty inconsistent, sometimes happening twice in a day or two days in a row, and other times happening once in two weeks. he has horny and non-horny periods

-but the inconsistency doesn't really matter because he gets lots of money, pretty privilege, you know?

xiao sat on his bed, kicking his feet as he watched the chat move. this was his first time streaming in about two weeks, and he was honestly very excited for what he had in store for his viewers.

"welcome back. looks like you guys missed me." he looked at the camera with a small smirk, reveling in the attention that he was currently receiving. sometimes he took long breaks on purpose, knowing full and well of the effect he had on his viewers.

xiao stood up, continuing to speak as he walked to an area of his room that was out of the camera's view. "well, luckily i have something that will keep your interests for a bit longer. it's my first time doing something like this. depending on how this feels, i may end up using it again."

he came back into the camera's view, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. in his hand was a wand looking thing, and once the viewers saw it, they went crazy. "it's that vibrating wand you guys have been begging me to get. shit was fucking expensive..." he mumbled the last part as he reached over to move the camera closer to the bed.

"apparently this specific brand is super popular. i finally got my hands on it a few days ago, and i would have gotten it earlier but it's always sold out." xiao pulled his shorts down, kicking them off with a bored look on his face and leaving him in a black hoodie and his underwear.

although his expression looked bored, you could tell that he was eager to try the toy due to how fast he had kicked the shorts off. he climbed onto the bed, leaning up against the headboard. "you guys always say, 'it'll feel great, buy it!'"

he placed the head of the vibrator in between his legs, adjusting it so that the on switch and the settings were next to his thumb. "there's no way you aren't overreact- oh, f-fuck!" in the middle of speaking, xiao's thumb brushed against the on switch, causing the vibrations to suddenly start.

he doubled over, quickly turning the vibrator off before anything else could happen. silence ensued as xiao stared at the vibrator in shock, wondering what had just happened. he looked up at the camera before looking down again. "um... let-let me try that again."

xiao bit his lip before turning the vibrating wand on again, this time at a lower setting. a long groan escaped his lips, mixing with the sound of the vibrator. his eyes began to flutter shut as he leaned his head against the wall behind him, moaning out several curse words as he struggled to keep his hips from moving against the toy.

after barely ten minutes, he came. he cut the vibrator off, panting loudly as he tried to catch his breath and remove the toy from between his legs. he could barely even look at it, being too focused on the feeling of bliss after cumming from something so powerful.

"e-ew, its all in my underwear..." xiao grimaced at the sudden feeling of stickiness in his boxers, lifting up his hips to pull them off and throw them to the side. his cock was standing up straight, it's head a lovely shade of pink from the stimulation.

he glanced at the vibrator, a longing look in his eyes as he began to think. "one more time wouldn't hurt, r-right?..." he adjusted himself once more before grabbing the vibrator again, positioning it at the tip of his cock. he turned the toy on, moaning out a loud 'oh yes, please!' as he threw his head back once more.

xiao's loud moans and whimpers echoed throughout the room, reaching his ears and causing him to blush. he sounded so... lewd. it was no wonder why he was liked so much. this continued on for a few minutes, and xiao became closer and closer to the edge.

his hips began to grind against the toy, causing him to whimper from the added stimulation. he struggled to keep himself together, and the hand that wasn't holding the toy was searching for something- anything- to grab. he opted for the base of the vibrator, his thin fingers wrapping around it and holding it against his weeping cock.

xiao began to let out a chorus of pleads and gasps, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head. his thighs began to tense before closing around the vibrator, further trapping it against one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

his pleads began to slur together, getting louder and louder as he got closer. his head began to shake, silently begging himself to just stop. it was all too much, but it felt so so good-

"i'm close, i'm getting close! please, please- i'm cumming, pl-ease!" xiao started to cum with a loud and choked sob, his thighs closing tighter around the vibrator. it lasted quite a while, his body shaking through the orgasm.

he cut the vibrator off after a few seconds, pushing it to the side of the bed. after taking a minute to compose himself, he stood up, almost falling to the floor thanks to his knees and legs feeling like jelly. he slowly walked up to the camera, smiling and quietly thanking the viewers before cutting the stream off, feeling utterly exhausted.

he streamed again the next day. and the day after that, and the day after that...

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

albedo

-

-very experimental

-does things just to see how his body and audience would react

-streams about once a week

-he calls his streams 'experiments' but everyone knows that it's not and that it's just a way for albedo to hide his desire to get absolutely wrecked

-also very sensitive

-he likes to display himself for his viewers, practicing simple self bondage that he can easily get out of

-but there are other times where he wants to be completely tied up, so he needs his partner, aka you, to help

-has plenty of toys, you know, for his 'experiments'

the camera was rolling, and albedo was on his bed, watching as people slowly joined his stream. he began to chat with a few of the viewers, adjusting his clothes. even though it wouldn't really matter since they would be thrown off in the next few minutes-

"hi, welcome back." albedo said, resting his head in his palm as looked at himself in the screen. "i'm going to be doing something a bit different today, hopefully you won't mind it." a few messages went by, telling albedo that they liked anything he did.

he laughed, feeling a tad bit embarrassed at the comments. "you guys are too nice, now-"

"albedo? are you ready?" a voice caught the man's attention, causing him to look in the direction of his door. he visibly perked up, smiling at the sight of you. "yeah, come on!" he reached his arms out, waiting for you to come closer so he could hug your waist.

albedo turned his attention back to the chat, noticing that they were asking who you were. "oh, this is my partner, (y/n). they agreed to help me with todays experiment." you waved at the camera, placing your other hand on his head to ruffle up his hair.

he pouted, letting go of your waist so he could pull you down to sit beside him. you took the time to introduce yourself, ignoring how albedo had placed a hand on your thigh. you could tell that he was getting a bit impatient thanks for how long you were talking for, and you decided to drag it on to tease him a bit.

"honestly, i'm so glad to be his partner, he's so sweet and-" you were cut off by a gentle squeeze on your thigh. trying to hide your smile, you looked at him, placing your hand on top of his. "hmm, what's wrong?"

albedo looked to the side, but you could see that the tips of his ears were turning red. "look at me." you placed a finger under his chin, turning his head so that he was forced to look at you. your boyfriend's face began to turn red, causing you to laugh.

"you're taking too long..." he said, averting his eyes. honestly it was cute how he got so shy all of a sudden. maybe it was because he was anticipating what you were going to do to him in the next few minutes. "oh, sorry! let me make it up to you..."

you leaned in, pressing your lips against his. albedo let out a soft sigh, placing a hand on your upper arm. the kiss quickly became heated very quickly, leading to albedo being pinned against the bed. he squirmed under you, whimpering once you pulled away for air.

you smiled at him before sitting back up, moving to the side and out of the camera's view. "i'm going to take a second to get ready, be right back!" you left the room, leaving albedo to tend to himself and his viewers.

he glared at the door, pulling his shorts off, along with his underwear, and throwing them to the side. "how dare they, making out with me and then leaving me to fend for myself..." he was about to speak again, but he was suddenly distracted by the sight of you walking back in the room.

his eyes trailed down your body, looking at your crotch where your cock/strap was at before moving back up to your eyes. "like what you see?" you climbed back onto the bed, watching as albedo struggled to not look at you. you glanced to the side, watching as the chat began to move quickly.

"i think your viewers want a show," you reached over albedo and to the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube. "are you willing to give it to them?"

you poured a bit of lube on your fingers before slowly dragging your hand down albedo's thigh, stopping at his hole. he gasped, his arms flying up to wrap around your neck. you gently pushed a finger in, causing albedo to let out a soft moan.

you continued to finger him for a bit longer, adding in another finger once he had gotten used to the first one. albedo was moaning softly, but he was being muffled because his face was buried in your neck.

all of a sudden, albedo jerked his hips, a loud moan escaping his lips. "t-there! right there!" your boyfriend grasped at your shirt as you pressed your fingers against the spot once again, his thighs tensing around your waist.

"i don't want to cum yet, please please fuck me!" he whispered in your ear, his tone becoming more and more desperate. you pulled your fingers out of him, grabbing the lube and pouring some on your cock/strap. albedo watched eagerly as you spread the lube around, positioning yourself in between his legs once more.

"you good?" albedo nodded quickly, moving a hand to your hip to urge you on. you smiled and leaned down to kiss his neck, using the distraction to slowly push yourself into him. albedo's mouth opened in a loud moan, his hand gripping your hip. you slowly pushed your cock into him, watching his expression to make sure that he wasn't in any pain.

once you were all the way in, you paused, trying to give him some time to adjust to the feeling. after a few seconds, albedo tapped your hip, giving you the signal to start moving. you placed your hands on his hips for support, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in.

albedo let out a small groan, glancing at the camera before closing his eyes. you continued to thrust into him, slowly speeding up until you had found the perfect pace to fuck him at. over the short amount of time, albedo was struggling to keep his moans in, eventually giving up once you began to hit his prostate.

"o-oh, there!" you slipped your hands under his shirt, pulling it over his head and to the side. you then leaned down, pressing another kiss into his neck before beginning to trail small bite marks down his neck and chest.

as you were doing that, you began to trail your hand up his stomach and chest, stopping once you felt the tip of your finger touch his nipple. he gasped at the feeling, moaning loudly once you pinched it. "you like that?" you asked, moving your hips faster.

"y-yes, please!" he nodded, his eyes opening before fluttering shut once again. "fuck me harder, (y/n), make me yours!" you laughed at his words, adjusting your pace so that you were hitting his prostate with almost every thrust.

"what do you mean, dear? i'm already yours! but fine, if that's what you want." you moved your hand down to his cock, pressing your thumb against his tip in order to spread around the precum.

albedo's hand flew up to your wrist, his hips moving towards your touch. he didn't know whether to move towards your hand or your cock, it was so much-

he began to get louder, his mouth stuck in an 'o' shape. it was obvious that he was getting close. "are you gonna cum, babe? you're gonna cum for me?" albedo nodded quickly, moving his hips in time with yours.

"alright, cum for me..." you began to move your hand up and down your boyfriends cock, providing him with the little extra stimulation he needed to finally cum. the substance shot out of his cock, splattering on his stomach and chest.

"good boy, there you go..." you helped him through the orgasm, slowing down once you felt that he was done. he was panting softly, no doubt exhausted from his orgasm. you watched as he reached up, a sign for when he wanted a hug from you. who were you to say no?

you wrapped your arms around him, gently kissing his forehead and cheeks before slowly pulling out of him. albedo whimpered, which prompted you to gently rub his back to calm him down. "shh, i've got you, don't worry..."

the two of you sat in silence for a second, with you comforting him. suddenly, albedo lifted his head up, as if he remembered something. "(y-y/n) the stream..." you gasped. as soon as you started taking care albedo, you had completely forgotten that the stream was still going on...

"ah, thank you for watching!" you let go of your boyfriend, causing him to pout and reach out for you. "i have to take care of him right now, but you'll see him again next week. bye bye!" you reached out and turned off the camera, finally ending the stream.

[the-final-sif]

hiii it's dr3 hope u dont mind some more convict childcare stuff bc dangit these guys own my entire heart now 

"Hey, Michael." 

Michael looks up at the voice and lets go of Chicken, patting him carefully before he uses the side of the bathtub to bring himself to his feet. It's Dream in the door, not Warden. That means that it's safe. Dream is good, not scary. Not angry. If he's here, then Warden is gone. Dream made Warden go away. 

Hide, he signs, one hand covering the other. Dream makes a raspy-breathing kind of sound, like laughing but also different. 

"Very good, Michael," he comes closer, and Michael preens under the words. He did good. "You hid- very good." 

Hide, Michael points at the blanket in the bathtub, colorful toys and scattered pictures and crayons he'd pulled out from their box. Chicken is sitting there, too. Michael and Chicken hide. 

"Yeah, you and Chicken hid, good job buddy," Dream walks over slowly, his steps uneven, ba-bum, ba-bum. Like a heartbeat. His hand stays on the wall.

Help? Michael signs, and Dream looks back at him. Help? 

"Do you need help, Michael?" Dream walks closer again, ba-bum, and Michael shakes his head, frustrated. No. Help? 

Dream's stills, first looking down, then into the bathtub next to Michael. "Does Chicken need help?"

No. Michael shakes his head. Dream is close enough to reach, now, and he pushes his arms over the side of the bathtub to poke at Dream with one hand. Dream. Help? 

Dream doesn't respond for a few seconds, and Michael repeats the signs. Dream, help? Dream needs help? After a while, he laughs, the same raspy-breathing sound that reminds Michael a little of something fuzzy a long time ago, horns, being held to a warm chest really late at night, half-asleep, ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum. Dream reaches down, hand brushing over Michael's head. 

"I'm- I'm okay, Michael," Dream says, quiet. Michael raises his arms towards Dream's face, hands planting on his mask. 

Okay, Michael signs, repeating the word. Michael okay. Chicken okay. 

"Yeah-" Dream's hands go under Michael's arms, hauling him up and over the bathtub, his feet then once again on the ground. Michael looks up as Dream lets go, breathing weird. He takes a second before he looks back, mask smiling back. "We're going to be okay, buddy." 

Help? Michael signs, one last time. Dream looks at him, then looks away, reaching into the bathtub to lift Chicken too and put him in Michael's arms. 

"Don't worry about me, bud," Dream says, and Michael reaches up to hold his hand. They leave the bathroom slowly because Dream is still walking weird and slow, ba-bum, ba-bum. Michael holds Chicken to his chest. Michael was Good and hid with Chicken when Warden came. Dream made Warden go away. Now, things are Okay again. Dream said so.

When Michael goes to bed, he's still holding Chicken with one hand, the other holding onto Dream's shirt. His head stays right above Dream's chest. Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum. 

---

I adore this. You absolutely captured the soft relationship these two have going on. Michael is so soft and trusting, he wants to help and Dream taking so long to realize help is being offered to him for once. I'm so soft for this, thank you.

[ltbarnes]

I Hit My Peak at Seven

[Stark U #3]

Summary: It wasn't voluntary to go out testing Sam's newest model plane in the brewing up storm. It’s not voluntary either when the two of you end up bleeding and half-conscious in the campus medical center. Thank god your friends are so understanding, right?

Pairing: college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: blood, concussion, language, mentions of sex, Sam is a nerd, very stressed Steve Rogers

A/N: Takes place in the same AU as With a Little Help From Your Friends & I’ll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Your hair fans over your face in a desperate and constant brawl with the wind crossing the campus grounds. The storm brewing up in the evening, warned thoroughly of by resident caretaker S.G. Rogers, left no other option for Sam but to test-fly his newest model plane in the heavy wind.

The presence of you in the middle of it was not voluntary. There's quite much else you'd rather dedicate your Saturday afternoon to—like watching tv, or ignore the studying you probably should do, or have Natasha use you as her personal doll with all the crazy face masks she drags home every weekend. But the loft vote is a powerful and unanimous force, and getting out of whatever is decided is next to—if not—impossible.

And Sam looked so excited. A grin like that and fluttering puppy eyes leaves even the strongest person weak in their knees. You are not particularly strong to begin with. Though that feeling pretty quickly turned into regret after stepping out into the raw chill, a cold not even Steve's puffer jacket can break.

"I can barely hear you!" Your voice hardly carries the fifty yards over to where Sam is shouting from.

"Then move closer!" He calls back, hands cupped around his mouth. "A little bit to the left!" His arms wave you to the side.

You sigh, hiding your cold hands in the pockets of your jacket while burrowing your chin into the collar. "We look so stupid right now," you mutter, only loud enough for yourself to hear.

The judgmental glances cast your way from your fellow students have your cheeks flaring from the heat, trying to deflect it for Sam's sake. He's so confident in himself and his interests that he couldn't give a damn of what people think. Unfortunately that mindset is not shared.

"If you don't catch this now I'll kick your ass out onto the street!"

The grin on his face tells another story than the offending words slipping out of his mouth, arm raised with the plane in hand.

"'S not my fault you picked me! I told you I'm bad at this!" You answer, a glare on your face that doesn't quite hinder the corners of your lips from quirking upwards.

He throws his head back in an evil chuckle, hand splayed across his chest while eyeing your pouting figure, hands hidden by the large sleeves of Steve's jacket. You're freezing and he almost feels bad, but trying out Redwing IV is a higher priority than saving you from a little bit of shivering. Contrary to what might be said by his roommates, it's not his fault you didn't bring enough clothes.

You bounce lightly on your feet, readying for the questionable chance of catching Sam's dearly beloved project without crushing it between your fingers. It really does mean a lot to him, and you're almost scared you might damage it. He'd be pissed, even if the choice of partner might be just as questionable as your chances of succeeding.

The plane flies through the air, drifting along with the wind beautifully and you nearly find yourself gasping at how perfectly he's designed it. It's not a quick and sudden descent like you expected, instead steadily easing its way towards you.

It doesn't hinder you from stumbling once you catch it in your arms, a harrumphed chuckle on your lips as you steady yourself on two feet. A few seconds of loaded silence are shared between the two of you before you're jumping up and down in glee, a happy shout erupting from your lungs.

"I did it!"

Sam jogs towards you, a playful grin on his lips that disappears from your sight when he lifts you up from the ground.

"Careful, Sam!" You squeal, distancing the plane from the embrace. "You're very welcome for not destroying your bird-thing, by the way," you say while on the ground once more.

"It's Redwing!" He retorts, snatching the device from your hand before distancing himself by jogging backwards.

And you find yourself surprised when there's a constant smile on your face, even though you're barely able to see anything from the harsh wind blowing up. Being outside in this weather is not something you would have done voluntarily, and still there's students crowding the grounds.

The heavy presence of curious onlookers, accompanied by those who do not give a shit about your daytime activity, slips from your mind while running around for the plane. Sam doesn't give you much of an option but to have all of your focus concentrated on the one object, with threats and harsh punishments awaiting if your glance strays for even a second. That's what you imagine would wait for you, at least.

Your breaths are quick and shallow after twenty minutes of running back and forth over the campus park, fingers half frozen and stiff despite the continuous activity. There's a lot to say about your nose, mostly speculations wether or not it will be attached to your face once Sam allows you the reprieve of returning to your warm apartment once more.

"Play with my fat cock like that, won't you, Y/l/n!" Someone shouts from a considerable distance, coaxing you around to search for the source of the offending comment.

There's an impressive amount of heat moving towards your cheeks, gaze dropping down to the grass once the clique of frat boys passing through the park comes into sight, amused grins on their faces while you look down at the model plane in your hands.

"Oh, fuck off, Beck!" Sam shouts, jogging slowly towards your still figure.

The group leaves with loud laughter and a wolf whistle, your intense glare on their backs.

"You okay?" Sam asks once he's in close enough vicinity to speak normally. "They're just dicks. Don't listen to 'em."

You give him a small chuckle, wiping underneath your nose with a sniffle from the cold. "It's okay. Now I know there's at least two guys who wants to sleep with me on campus," you answer with a sly smirk.

The unsually smug comment earns you a gentle slap to the back of your head, drawing an offended gasp from your lips as you glare up at Sam.

"Oh, you didn't—"

Your sentence fades out as the plane slips from your hand, the strong wind snatching it from beneath your fingers until it's carried with the cold air.

"Oh, no!" You squeal, instantly setting off to retrieve the flying object heading towards the large array of trees and bushes.

"Damnit, Y/n," Sam mutters, on your heel once he realizes the reason behind your fast descent.

"I'm sorry!" You shout to your best ability, gaze frantically following the plane whistling quickly through the air.

"Don't—just fucking focus!" He retorts, an irritated clench of his jaw shutting you up for now.

If that plane has even as much as a broken wing, that man is not going to talk to you for a week. He's scarily serious about his devices, and this particular model he's been working on for over a month.

Bucky threw a baseball at some helicopter-thingy Sam had brought into the loft a few months ago, and received a black eye in response. None of you have dared to cross him about his specific interest ever since. The cold weather wasn't the only reason you were reluctant to follow along.

Redwing is shakily declining towards the large rhododendron bushes towards the edge of the park, changing the direction of your sprint in panic.

"No, no, no, no, no," you repeat under your breath, feeling the looming presence of Sam catching up with you.

He's faster than you. A lot faster. Hopefully he can get to it in time before it crashes into the bushes from hell. Everytime someone has to go into those bushes, it ends up with small scratches everywhere. But you got quite a bit further before he even realized you were gone, meaning he'll probably surpass you when it's too late.

The plane is just out of reach. A few feet more and you'll grasp it in your hand, a few feet more until you're saved from the inevitable week-long scolding, and a few feet more before it disappears into the bushes.

Tricky branches laying across the ground weren't even in your line of sight until your foot catches underneath one. The breath is knocked out of your lungs as Sam crashes into your back, sending the two of you into the web of branches and leaves that you so desperately wished you could avoid with a surprised yelp.

Thuds and branches breaking sounds through the air before you collide with the ground, hands at the last minute saving your face from falling into the dirt. The silence is thick and tense as you lay perfectly still, heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. You're sure Sam might be able to hear it.

A wince surpasses your lips as you turn your head to the person laying next to you, his large hand coming up to touch the back of his head.

"Sam?" You whisper warily, so carefully that he might not hear the sound leave your mouth.

His fingers come back red and glistening. He doesn't seem to take in the sight properly until your lips part in a gasp, scrambling up to your knees until your hands are all over him.

"Oh my god, Sam, you're bleeding! I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, sorry," you breathe out frantically.

His eyes flicker up to meet your face in a distant stare. The way he's watching you is with much less recognition and expected anger than you predicted.

You wince audibly as he parts his mouth to speak, brows furrowed in confusion like he forgot how to form words. It's a possibility, you think, when a dozen seconds pass by and there's nothing said or done expect him lowering his head onto the ground once more.

"We need to get you out of here, Sam. You're bleeding and I think you might be concussed, and oh, god—"

Blinking away the panicked haze is hard, but necessary, as you set aside your own pains to work through his much more craving injury.

You have absolutely no idea what to do if someone has a concussion. If Sam even has one is not certain, though you figure you should just assume he has. So despite something telling you that getting someone to help is a better solution, you can't claw out the reasonable logic in your mind long enough to act on that thought.

His arm is slung over your shoulder while you drag him out of the bushes with all of your willpower and strength, until the grey skies above you are once more in sight. Drops of rainwater have started trickling down onto your skin, cold and wet and you don't even notice because Sam is so out of it on the ground beneath you.

"You need to stand up, please, Sam. I need—you need to help me," you say frantically, trying to get to your feet with his entire weight resting against you.

He grunts, writhing against your body as you bite down on your lips in effort. "Y/n," he mumbles in protest as you manage to drag him up. Something hurts on or within you, but you don't have the time to figure out what. "'M okay. You don't need..."

"Just let me help you, Sam," you grit out through your teeth, now moving across the large grass field with his body slumped against yours.

Your legs are weak and shaky as you drag yourselves through the park. The amount of people has declined drastically since only five minutes ago. Probably has something to do with the rain, and the storm slowly picking up. People don't seem to like being out in such weather, you think, when there's just a dozen in your sight as small figures far ahead.

It's almost impossible to see or hear anything. The rain is harsh and unforgiving, seemingly teaming up with the storm to fight against you. You're weak enough as it is. The campus buildings seem painfully far away, though you know there's only a few hundred feet between you and the hundred-year old stone structures. It's cold as bloody hell but you refuse to leave Sam in this state.

"Holy fuck!"

The voices of young men reach your ears, seeing their figures in the near distance. You're almost sure you're crying, and if you weren't in some kind of tunnel vision-shock, you might have cared.

"Dude, you're fucking bleeding!" Someone observes. "Leg is all fucked up."

It forces your eyes to roam all over Sam, showing his legs whole and unbleeding as you know it. You shake your head, gazing up at the clique of curious and concerned onlookers.

"No, no. He's—his legs are fine," you stutter out.

"No. Your leg." The guy gestures towards your thighs.

Your gaze droops down, zoning in on the large and deep gash across your left thigh. The blood is pouring out of your wound steadily, soaking the fabric around the tear in your workout pants. The sight makes you woozy, swaying on your feet while trying to ignore the way you look like you're bleeding out.

You didn't even notice.

"Woah," someone says, catching your figure while another untangles Sam from you.

"No!" You protest, reaching out for Sam. "Don't —I have to be with him."

"You need to see the nurse. Now," the voice repeats, tightening their grip on your waist while slinging your arm over their shoulder.

Phones are raised in your peripheral vision while your gaze is stuck on Sam, two guys helping him away from you and the crowd.

The ground disappears from beneath your feet. The person is carrying you, that much you manage to realize. You writhe in their grasp, reaching out for your friend as he's taken away.

"Lemar, c'mon," the voice right above you calls out.

"Please, need to be with Sam," you whine, fighting against his hold. The pain in your leg is slowly creeping up on you.

"Shh, just be quiet, baby. You're prettier when you're not talking anyways."

You suddenly have the urge to pinch him or maybe bite his shoulder just so he will shut his mouth and stop saying those condescending things with his stupid voice.

"Bitch," you mumble under your breath before giving your fight up.

Shiv Parekh just sent you a message

Steve's phone lights up with the notification, frown etched in between his eyebrows as soon as the sender's name registers. Shiv is an acquaintance at best—unless you count sitting next to someone in class as a close friend. He doesn't really know why he has his number.

He scratches the skin on top of his nose, unlocking his phone with a sigh while his thumb searches for the Messages icon on his home screen. Steve is not much of a casual texter. The only notifications he gets through text is from the people living in his home, and the occasional girl asking if he's down to hang out at a party. Shivrang from History never texts.

This Y/n?

The two words send a streak of anxiety through his chest even before he scrolls up to see the picture sent along with it. It's blurry, but clear enough to distinguish the people in the image. He sees Sam, leaning on some guy with his eyes half-closed and droopy. He sees John Walker have you in his arms. He sees the red blood from your leg. He sees so much blood that his heart instantly speeds up into an unhealthy rate.

Steve's phone is pressed against his ear with the signals ringing obnoxiously loud, taunting him with every second Shiv is not picking up. His fingers have found their way around the edge of the table, gripping tightly enough to make a dent.

The phone crackles awake into his ear until Shivrang's voice sounds through the other side.

"Where are you? What's happening?" Steve speaks anxiously, chair screeching loudly against the floor as he rises from his seat.

"'M just outside of the library. Dude, there's like—they're both fucked up. Her leg is bleeding like hell, like all cut up and shit," Shiv answers. "Don't know what the hell's wrong with Sam. He was so fucking out of it."

The phone is discarded onto the hallway dresser and put on speaker as Steve hastily throws on his jacket.

"Are they still there?" Steve asks. "I need to know where they are, Shiv."

"Chill. Walker took her to the nurse, think they took Sam there too."

"Thank you."

The phone is pushed into the back pocket of his jeans before Shivrang has a chance to answer. He curses at his shoes as he tries to stick his feet in them hastily, failing numerous times until he gives up and kneels down to untie his laces.

Steve's hands are shaking. The image of you covered in blood is pushing at the forefront of his mind. Sam was barely conscious. He doesn't know what's going on, how damn serious it might be, and the lack of control sends him reeling into an anxious spiral.

There's a thousand different scenarios possible, for what might have knocked the both of you down if you were just outside playing with a goddamn model plane. A robbery, a group of frat guys jumping you, Sam getting into a fight that you tried to break up. His deprived anger is bubbling up to the surface, years of simmering underneath his skin ready to blow up at anyone who dared lay a hand on your skin.

It's not until he presses down the door handle, pushing the door open, that he feels the heavy weight of a stare on his back.

"What's going on?" Bucky asks, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with his thick arms crossed over his chest. There's a stoic frown on his face, lured out of his quiet room from the commotion in the hallway.

Not a glance is sent his way as Steve slides over his phone, gliding over the wooden floor until it hits the toes of Bucky's feet. He stares down at it, no effort to pick it up, until his sight adjusts and the image sent by Shivrang becomes clear enough to process.

The pools of red are at the forefront of the picture, running down your thigh as John fucking Walker cradles you in his arms. Hates the guy with his guts, but in the state you're in Bucky has no reason to wanna tear his arms off of you.

"What's this?" Bucky asks, burning glare glancing up at Steve, halfway out of the door.

"I don't know. They're both at the nurse," Steve answers, desperate eyes pleading for Bucky to get a move on until he leaves without him.

Bucky nods sternly, paling face blinking to get rid of the worried blur until he's clear enough to move from his spot.

"Natasha!" He shouts, leaning his head towards her room.

His jacket is ripped off of the crook, cradled tightly in his fist while the two of them impatiently wait for the redhead to barge out of her room.

It's with an irritated scowl she emerges from her cave, phone held in her left hand and a cookie in the other.

"What?" She seethes. "Better be damn important now, assholes."

"Sam and Y/n are hurt. We're going to the nurse's office, c'mon," Steve urges, blue eyes drowning in concern as he nudges his head towards the open door.

She stares at him, brows slowly contorting into a questioning scowl, like he's going to take his statement back and tell her he was kidding. You better not be goddamn hurt, both of you.

"You're shitting me, right?" She asks, nails digging into the skin of her palms as she looks up at the two giants waiting for her to get a move.

Steve shakes his head slowly, hands on his hips as he itches to get out of the loft. He's knocked back when Natasha pushes through them, out of the door and already heading for the staircase.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" She shouts, voice growing more distant with every second as the two of them stare at each other with raised eyebrows.

Steve plucks her jacket from the hanger, locking the door behind them. The three of them have never moved so quickly.

The door slams behind them as their entrance echoes through the hall of the campus medical center. Two sets of blue, frantic eyes roam around the waiting room for any semblance of their friends. A small redhead demands to know where they are being kept from the indifferent front desk secretary. The middle-aged woman looks at her with half-lidded eyes that show no indication of giving in to Natasha's whispered threats.

"Sorry. It's protocol," the woman drawls stoically, chewing on her spearmint gum loudly. Her wrinkled fingers click mindlessly on the outdated keyboard to the computer beside her. Tap, tap, tap.

It's driving Natasha crazy. An intense glare from her way meets the woman's uninterested gaze in a staring competition she finds herself soon abandoning. Instead, she glances over her shoulder, finding the waiting room void of the two men she arrived with.

"Fine," Natasha seethes under her breath, pushing off from the desk with a low grumble in her throat.

She drags herself towards the tattered chairs lined up against the wall purely for show, glancing over her shoulder to see that the woman has already returned to staring mindlessly at her phone.

Without a sound, in the way only Natasha can move, she slips into the corridor, out of the waiting room to search for her lost friends.

"I didn't—oh, for god's sake, Bucky!" Your voice carries through the hallway, tainted with the all too familiar irritation that comes whenever your friends become a little too overbearing.

"It wasn't on purpose! No, I—it was about to be ruined! I didn't wanna destroy it!"

"Could've smashed that fucking thing into fucking pieces for all I cared. You don't go cutting yourself open again, do you hear me?"

Natasha chuckles quietly to herself as she nears the voice of Bucky scolding you. His voice has dropped at least two octaves and the volume of it is barely loud enough for her to hear. It's how she knows he's upset for real.

She enters the room to see you stretched out onto the gurney, paper canvas crinkling underneath your weight with your leg bandaged tightly. Steve sits slumped down into the chair just left of the bed. The other one is empty—Bucky resorted to standing up to rid himself off of his frustrations.

Your face visibly cringes into a wince immediately as Natasha comes into sight. The wrath of your hotheaded friend knows no boundaries, even when wounded and qualifying for pity that should leave you out of scoldings for at least two days.

Though she's walking calmly towards the gurney, you almost could have foreseen the slap to the back of your head you receive. The predictability of her actions do not lessen your shocked gasp in reaction.

"Ow!" You whine, hand coming up to trace over the back of your head.

"Dumb, stupid girl. I can't leave you alone for even an hour!" Natasha seethes, glancing over your leg. The white bandage is stained with drops of blood that have seeped through the fabric.

You glance over at Steve to see his disapproving stare towards Nat, but makes no move to reprimand her. Maybe he agrees with her for once.

"Do you have to make it worse?" You glare up at her, sinking down into the stale bed underneath you while trying to ignore the stinging pain in your leg. The painkillers they gave you are shit.

"What the hell happened? Where's Sam?" Natasha asks, giving Steve and Bucky pointed glances that demand an explanation.

Your head flops down onto the bed with a thud, pulling a deep sigh from your lips although you can't help but giggle quietly to yourself. The whole situation is so ridiculous that you barely want to admit it to her. Having your two other boys knowing makes no difference. They're stupid and have done dumber things. Natasha is a whole other story.

"I—we, the plane was carried away with the wind and I ran after it. You know how Sam gets," you say, glancing down at your bandaged leg with a smile. "Flew into those damn bushes and Sam ran into me. Think he hit his head on a stone or somethin', I don't really know, but he has a concussion and I cut my leg up on a branch."

She curses under her breath in Russian while throwing her hands up in the air. You can't help but smile, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to hide it.

"Y/n!"

The shout is mumbled, carrying through walls and hallways and it's just loud enough for your ears to pick the sound of your name up.

You perk up, pushing yourself into a seat while Steve and Bucky's heads turn towards the door. Steve's hand comes to rest on your leg, gripping it gently, just for his own comfort.

"Y—No! I want—hey, asshole!"

There's not really much doubt where the voice stems from after the second round of shouts emerges, closer this time.

The paper crinkles underneath you as you scramble to get out of the bed, silent curses mumbled under your breath while frantically trying to escape your temporary confines.

"Hey. Hey," Steve says, tightening his hold on you while rising to his feet. "You're not going anywhere," he orders, eyebrows pinched into a frown.

"I wanna see Sam. He's calling for me," you say, pleading with your eyes to the blonde giant towering over you now that he's standing and you're still bed-ridden.

"Jerk can wait. You're not walking until those legs of yours are fine," Bucky mutters, an eyebrow raised while nodding towards the bandage.

"Oh, just carry her, for god's sake. I'll do it myself if you won't," Natasha sighs, arms crossed over her chest with an eye roll.

Two sighs, two sets of heads shaking and a giddy smile from your lips is apparently all that is exchanged until conviction sets in.

"C'mon, then," Bucky mumbles before dragging himself to the side of the bed.

"This is fun. It's fun, isn't it? You think it's fun, don't you?"

The words tumble out of your mouth, arms clasped and legs clinging onto Bucky as you bounce lightly with every step he takes. Your lips hover just right next to his ear, statements rolling off your tongue with clear determination to make his resolve break. The journey isn't very long, but you've succeeded in less time before.

"I swear to god, sweets, 'm gonna sell you on fucking eBay when we get home," Bucky seethes while taking you closer towards your destination four doors down.

"Don't be mean, Buck," Steve says. "At least put her up on the farmer's market on Sunday. Might get a better price if they see her in real life."

You gasp, offended out of your mind with the heinous crimes your supposed best friends are conspiring with right in front of you. And you're just about to chastise them with a great come back when your piggyback ride comes to an end and you're sauntering into Sam's room.

"Sammy!"

You clamber to get down from Bucky's back, instead gently put down with his arm taking most of your weight off of the floor until you've managed to scramble to Sam's bed.

"Hey, Princess," Sam mumbles with a droopy smile. "These people wouldn't let me see you." He gestures towards the hallway where an irritated nurse resides in lack of space in the now crammed room.

"Well, they obviously suck," you say playfully, taking a hold of his hand. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"I'm so high on pain meds right now I don't feel a thing." Sam grins, eyelids fluttering closed with an amused scoff from Bucky behind you.

"You look like shit," Natasha says from where she's standing in the corner of the room. She's not very far away despite it, because it's tiny as it is.

"Can always count on an overflow of compliments from you, sweet cheeks," he answers, sending a halfhearted finger gun her way that's pointed slightly to the left of her figure.

You look over your shoulder to see Natasha smirking to herself, poorly hidden despite her usual stealth. "Anytime," she says.

"How's Redwing?" Steve asks, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

The mention of the now deceased plane sends a jolt of recognition through Sam, that leaves you convinced that the thought of his creation hasn't struck him until now.

You wince loudly, inching back just slightly from your friend in fear of his reaction. It kind of was your fault, after all.

Sam's gaze flickers over to you, but you avert yours before he has a chance to gain eye contact. You don't want him to be mad at you, even though it wasn't on purpose. He had worked so hard the last week on that thing.

"Y/n," he calls out gently, reaching for your hand. "Hey, Princess. 'M not mad. Promise."

You muster the courage to glance up at him, and you find your reluctance is quite justified. If his reaction would be anything like last time, that is.

"You sure?" You whisper.

"Yeah. Wasn't your fault."

"You're not secretly plotting for my demise in secret ways until I've gone crazy and can't decipher reality from delusion any longer?"

"God," Natasha sighs from her corner while Sam leans back into his pillow with a chuckle.

"Could've used this attitude three months ago," Bucky mutters, sending a glare towards Sam that shows just how he feels about that black eye he gave him.

It earns raised eyebrows and a scoff, Sam clambering to sit up despite his strict orders to lay down. "You did that on purpose, asshole!" Sam says accusingly, gently lowered down once more by Steve's hands on his shoulders. "At least Y/n can't help it she's fucking useless when it comes to sports."

"Hey!" You gasp. "That's mean!"

"Well, you did ruin Redwing," Sam mutters.

"You said you weren't—"

"I'm not! It's just—"

"Can you two—"

"Hey!"

The loud shrilly voice cuts through the shouted chaos of the room, drawing your attention to the chipped doorway with reluctance. A nurse in tattered pink scrubs and her graying hair thrown up with a hair clip stands with her hands parked on her hips, lips puckered tightly and eyebrows lowered into a frown.

"Everybody out now!" She orders, pointing out of the door. "I'm so damn tired of college kids," she mutters under her breath while turning away.

A few seconds of chaotic scrambling and chairs scraping against the linoleum floor is what it takes to have everyone halfway out the door.

Steve hurries to your side, arms hooking underneath the bend of your knees before you're hustled up into his hold.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," you chant through a pained whisper, leg aching and stinging while being involuntary moved.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," Steve winces. Your fingers grip his shoulder tightly, but he doesn't mind. If taking away from your pain adds to his own it doesn't matter. Not like your fingers are especially strong anyways.

"You're just gonna leave me?" Sam says.

"Well, yeah. Did you see that nurse? Ain't no way in hell I'm on the receiving end of her wrath again," Bucky answers from the doorway.

“We’ll come back in a few hours, Sam, when we’re allowed. Promise,” Steve says.

"Bye, Sammy," you say with a wave, head turned over Steve's shoulder with a smile.

The four of you exit the clammy hospital room, shoes squeaking against the plastic floor of the hallway and noses scrunching over the sterile smell of hand sanitizer. The nurse waits impatiently against the wall, pointed look boring holes into your figures.

"I hate you all!" Sam shouts from his room.

You smile. Everything is in its order after all. Sam might give you a hard time for a week and the rest of your friends won’t let you go anywhere without an arm to lean against, but it’s fine. At least you’re not concussed like Sam. Idiot.

[killemwithkawaii]

Hello!! I recently got Tumblr after I read some of your love-sick sal fics and DAMN you got me trapped now senpai >////<

So here's my gush about Sal and Larry because I love both of those ghost hunter bffs

So first Sal. Where do I even start? Sally is such an interesting character and I love his concept alone!! The execution? Mwah -3- He's a little femboy but can also be so badass! Me being an absolute SUCKER for Yanderes I can't even begin to describe how much potential he has, but you already showed lots of it!! Sal is definitely the stalker type that collects everything. A little to weak to kidnap right of the bat, but he has that possibility in mind for emergencies. He definitely has journal after journal with drawings, notes and scenarios of Sal and his obsession lover~ He's definitely delusional about the relationship they share. I love to imagine that he'll play into anything his lover wants. Kinks? "Weird" habits? Hobbies? He's definitely into all of it if it means he can be with his lovely Y/N! And I LOVE that devotion so so so SO much!! He definitely isn't the type to force the darling to change but rather changes himself and that's a whole other level of being yandere, let me tell you that! Overall Sal/10 would buy again! Never been happier to have a delusional masked boi chilling outside my window ;D

Now, Larry. DAMN THE DUDE IS STRONG. And he also has connections where he can get drugs from? He'd definitely kidnap as soon as he sees a little danger and I'M ALL HERE FOR IT!! He's kinda the opposite of Sal which I kinda love! Well, sure, they share same interests, but I mean that while Sal is weak and timid (a little of a push-over when it comes to love but not in a bad way c;), Larry is a muscly dude who knows what he wants, but often only wants to chill (which I totally respect). Larry's yandere potential is also pretty high. I mean, he literally lives in the basement with pretty thick walls. It wouldn't be hard to hide a person there, plus he can also drug them if they get too noisy (nothing too dangerous or addicting though, he only wants them to relax a little). I imagine him being super soft though once darling gets Stockholm syndrome comfy! He isn't as delusional as Sal but honestly, he doesn't care. He just takes what he wants and DAMN IT I LOVE IT >//////< Larry/10 would buy again! Never have I been happier being in a basement smoking weed than U am now ;D

And Double Trouble? Let's keep it short.

BEST OF BOTH WORLDS LET'S GOOOOOO

>You got a tumblr… because of my yan!sal fics????? I am SO HONORED AAHHHHHH 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖 (and also wonder how you found them if you weren't here already sdlkfd)

>I really need to do a rewatch with the intention of adding up all of Sals (and Larrys) 'yan points'. There are a lot of them, but I want to know exactly how many times he sneaks and creeps and gets all mushy in canon 📝✅

>Sal is a yandere packrat and I love that for all of us collectively (bu-dum-tss)

>He's also very open minded, nonjudgmental and observant, so I totally agree that he'd be accepting of (and quickly picks up on) his darlings 'weird' quirks and kinks and would romanticize the hell out of them (to a reasonable point- even love-sick Sally has to have some limits and doesn't want anybody to get hurt unnecessarily)

>Umf, his DEVOTION 👌👌👌 but also: his uncanny ability to charm just about anyone, how quick he is with his white lies and whit, his patience and tolerance, how he gets people to trust him so quickly despite how off-putting some find his appearance, how he uses his politeness, agreeability, emotional intelligence and flattery to get exactly what he wants from people and they thank him for it half the time, how he uses all of that to his advantage with the (perceived) best intentions AND to achieve his own goals… it just gets my darling dokis going so hard u//w//u 💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

>As for Scary Larry, he's opposite yet complimentary to Love-Sick Sally (which is why Double Trouble is *chefs kiss*)- stubborn to a fault, doesn't mind making enemies, willing to get his hands dirty (mostly metaphorically speaking), able to say the hard truths, his inability to brush off unfairness or disrespect, a need for control that he doesn't quite know how to achieve…

>He makes me go '(giggling) Im in danger :3c' bc he could very easily overpower little ol me and it gets me feeling Ways (oh god and i just remembered hes a full foot taller than me HELP sdlfsadf) 👉👈💓💦

>The nickname Lar-bear is so fitting bc he could potentially tear someone limb from limb like a grizzly for messing with his darling but he would also cuddle [darling] all night in his yan dungeon like a big teddy bear 🤗🧸💖

>His PASSION 👌👌👌 he loves and feels so deeply and he can't seem to keep it contained. Sal is used to masking his feelings lol but Larry has to express himself, whether he's happy or angry or moved. His love might be intense to the point of smothering, but it's pretty nice once you get used to it~ 💘

>Both? Both. Definitely both (and thanks to this gush im gonna think about being in the middle of that delicious yan!sandwich all day) 🤤💕💕💕

[everafterkeiji]

Hiiiiiiiiii, writer-chan, so may I make req with tokrev Bois who's s/o makes graffiti and art with ran, baji and anyone else ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾ thank you in advance (~‾▿‾)~

hello hellooo damn im really so sorry this took so long but i hope u have an amazing dayy, ily always mwahh(*＾3＾)✧*。

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐈

PAIRINGS: Draken, Baji, Mitsuya & Ran x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff

♡ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 was always one to admire street art, even dedicated enough to get it tatted on his skin to pay his thanks to it. So when he notices new sets of murals on the walls across the town, he's stunned to know the artist.

- Right when he was just walking in the alley, he began to hear the familiar sound of spray cans in the corner and he sees a figure up on a ladder, clad in a mask while being busy with painting the wall. His eyes skim through the variation of letterings and styles all in one large spacing and he's left speechless to finally see you sign your signature in it, finishing it up.

You then turned to him and is surprised at how he just stood there making you lose balance at the top of the ladder so Draken sprints to catch you and he does it so easily while you pull off your mask as you fall in his arms.

"Thank you." You said and the blonde could feel like he got stunned for a second when you pulled your mask down.

"I'm Draken." He introduces himself once he's set you down with a smile. "I'm Y/N." You bid in return before you're setting down the ladder.

"That is sick. Are you the same artist for all of the big pieces in alleys like these?" He asked while he helped you clean up your cans, picking them up and handing them to you.

"That's me."

"You are.. amazing." He stuttered but focuses on trying to keep up a conversation with you as you smiled at him.

"I'll see you around, Draken." You said standing up, slinging your bag over your shoulders and before you turn away, you spoke again.

"By the way, I love your tattoo." You ended before walking away, leaving him with a smile.

- Next time he sees you, you're at the shop buying for new cans and he's a bit too delighted to meet you again.

"You mind if I see how you create your masterpieces, Y/N?" The blonde asked, half joking just to find an excuse to get to know you more. Beaming at his request, you suddenly agreed.

"Of course, hopefully it's okay with you that I usually paint them quite late." You explained while he hides his grin from the excitement at your offer.

"Any time is good with me. Just text me the location?" He smoothly insisted to grab your number as he hands you his phone and you type in your number. Before you can leave though, he taps your shoulder.

"If you have time today, wanna go get some lunch?" And then the hang outs didn't stop there.

- It was easy being with you, he thinks. You were so casual with each other as if you didn't just meet last night.

- He began to ask questions on what got you into art so he listens well to each of your stories, liking you more than he possibly could.

- When the night comes in, he's sat behind you while you work but he insisted to help whenever you needed him. He's just awestruck to what you were doing, every stroke and every precise splatter or drip to a lettering was all cohesive to one piece and it drives his heart to speedrun at your talent.

- You invite him to come and draw something too even if he begs to differ that he doesn't have that specific skill so you just remind him he was free to do anything.

- While you finish your art, you were staring at it proudly unknown that the same stare you had was mirrored onto Draken's except he was looking at you so these nights became your usual dates, if he can even call it that.

- He tries to spice it up the next night, bringing a picnic basket which surprised you as you got on his motorcycle while he takes you to a quiet park and you two continue on with getting along.

- He'd also love to take you to the motorcycle shop, shyly ask you if you could paint something for his bike which of course you'd agree to with no hesitation.

- When you're both trying to brainstorm for some designs on the motorcycle, he loves how you were so natural in your element, just sketching around with beauty in both the paper and in you. That moment right there leads Draken to firmly ask you out, in a way that doesn't just mean graffiti nights—he wanted this artist to be his and go through the process of courting just to hear that yes from you.

- Now that the courting stage has began, it feels like it's gotten more easier to fall for your art and to fall for you just like you fell for him from the moment he caught you when you met.

- He's a bit more open to how he adored every piece of your work and he makes sure to fill you in new cans whenever you needed them and always the first one to take a photo of your work to boast to Toman.

- With a few more pushes of confidence and extra months, Draken finally asks you in a manner he thought was fitting for you.

"Hey, I have this idea for my bike. Can you check it out for me?" He asks, slipping through a piece of paper to you side while you rested your chin to your palm as you unfolded it with your other hand, only to feel flustered at what he wrote.

Can I be yours, Y/N?

Grabbing your pen, you smiled as you answered his question. "I think it needs a few more tinkers but I think this makes the cut." You followed through before you passed the paper to him and sees how you wrote yes right beneath to his question while he cheers.

"Then that settles it."

♡ 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈 likes to take out his frustration in ways that are a bit extra compared to others. So seeing him rage with the spray can in hand and just doodling whatever he was feeling onto the wall wasn't entirely new but you stopped midway once you caught him.

"Hello? I'm sorry I think that's mine." You said, trying to catch his attention to which he turned around too angrily but when he sees you and shifts his gaze to the spray can that had initials on it, he sighs.

"No no, you go ahead and—do whatever. As long as you return to me after it, I'll be here on the other side of the wall." You approached him, putting on your mask, sending him a sweet smile before opening your bag to stand beside him and get to your own work.

"..thanks." he whispers but still felt slightly guilty for using it up too much.

"Here, want to swap?" You asked aiming a black colored one to him as he catches it. "If you want, you can always join me to this side." You offered while he got curious of what you were sketching.

"Sure, I don't mind at all."

- And that's how you two met, helping him calm down as he helps you create your mural which leaves him amazed and immediately asks for your number.

- Meeting up with him wasn't impossible because he'd usually be the first to initiate how you've been and what designs you've been working on which was quite sweet so you always answered as fast as you could and invite him for more rage free paint therapy sessions. Sneaking in a few more tricks, he actually gets to score some alone time with you to the park and he makes sure to add how he wants to be taught in arts.

- Once you do get to the park and you're teaching him the basics, you've got his full attention for the wrong reasons. You looked so pretty explaining—you were also too kind to actually be indepth with techniques he can do just to feel a little better in his painting.

- While you were busy on your own canvas, he was peaking over your shoulder and sees just how you're painting with ease, capturing the scene in front of you perfectly.

"You're really good, Y/N. Everything you do is so cool." Baji compliments with a toothy grin as you blush at his words.

- Sometimes, Baji would let you draw on him, acting as if they were his tattoos so you played along finding it a funny idea. That's why you're either rolling up his sleeve to show off his upper arm so you can draw on it but c'mon—he can be one heck of a distraction.

"My muscles looking fine there?" He teased as you rolled your eyes but hide your fluster. "I wasn't looking, Baji."

"Hey hey, I didn't even say you were in the first place."

"..."

- Once you're done, Baji strolls in a casual hangout with Toman in a sleeveless outfit to show off your creation and the rest were completely baffled at how he got a tattoo until Mikey licks his thumb and swipes it across the ink and it immediately fades, making the blonde laugh.

- Going through a few more hang outs and comfortability around each other, you were able to bring him to your tiny studio where paint balloons were stuck to the wall while there was a can filled with darts for you to take and Baji was over the moon. You tell him to wear the plastic suit to avoid any stains on your clothes and he was seriously so excited.

- The fun begins as well as the bets and competition to pop as much balloons, not even realizing how time seems to pass. Baji would definitely grab one of the balloons and throw them right at you, laughing at your reaction and a new found war begins.

- The next time you're working on another mural, Baji insists for you to get on his shoulders so you can reach a few inches up, even if you protest—he was really okay with it so here you are, thighs sat on his shoulders like you were playing chicken at a pool.

"Baji? Are you okay there?" You asked, regretful you've misplaced your ladder. "Stop worrying, you idiot." He reassures you, patting your thigh while you smile as your heart flutters.

- If you do feel like you're about to fall, you're tapping on his head but of course, he'd tease you before he can put you down. He'd tilt his body as you held onto him and his laugh just echoes through the street like a fool.

"Fine fine." He says while he held onto your hips as he lowers his body for you to hop off, once you did—his hands were sort of glued to your hips while you stared at each other, growing shy and at the same time you both backed away with nervous chuckles.

- Later on, he does remind you how much he loves to see you so passionate over art and his compliments never fail to make you smile.

- For the grand question, Baji actually took your lessons by heart and began to paint your favorite flowers when he came back to one of your unfinished paintings since weren't there yet.

- You arrive to feel your heart awe at how he was giving lots of effort into his section so you approach him with a proud smile. "That looks so nice, Baji." You complimented him. "I was actually hoping for more art lessons," he says while turns his body which was previously hiding the flower in his hand while he gives it to you as you melt under his action. "But this time, I'd prefer some popcorn and a good movie with you, that is, if you're up for it, Y/N." He asked as you embrace him as an answer making him chuckle yet wraps his arms around you.

"As long as I get to be with you then I'm all for it, Keisuke."

♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀, ever since he was a kid has always been into art just like you were so this couple-to- be was meant for each other.

- He likes to stop by the alley where he drew the dragon he and Draken got tatted together but he was surprised to see someone else admiring it. So, he tries to make small talk with you.

"It's faded now." He tried to start as you turned to him with a soft glance.

"I know right, it's such a beautiful piece too. I wish I could meet the artist." You answered while he stares wide eyed at you and before he can reveal himself, you were being called to school.

"I'm sorry, I have to go." You bid him then walked away while Mitsuya was left dumbfounded.

- The next night he passes by on one of your half finished pieces and he smiles at how he was so attracted to every part of it despite the lack of color on the tail of it. You catch him, familiarizing him as the boy from before so you approach him.

"It looks weird, huh?" You asked him referring to your own work while he shakes his head. "I think it looks fantastic as it is." He stated, smiling slightly.

"Well, hopefully I can still fix it up a bit." You said, opening your bag to reach for your cans as Mitsuya stares at you confused. "I'm sorry..but are you the artist?"

"Oh it's fine but yes, I'm Y/N." You properly introduced while the lilac haired boy felt his heartbeat leap at your identity. ".. I've always liked this mural—I can say it's an honor to meet you." He joked but reached his hand out as you shake it.

"I'm Mitsuya and I—am the artist of the dragon one we saw earlier." And now it was your turn to be struck. "No way!"

Baam, that's how you met each other, a perfect example of coincidence at it's finest.

- You promised to exchange numbers so you'll get to hang out more since you two were tied to one common interest. Mitsuya can't help but find the situation really funny yet he was happy to meet you. He was a kid back then, he's fallen more into sewing but it was refreshing to look back on something he liked to do in the past. Bonus points that you were hella pretty so he won't complain about this interaction.

- You often meet up where the dragon mural was, eating as Takashi provides you the stories to what happened at that very place which you enjoyed listening to. You even shared a few laughs at how he got stuck with a tattoo and your own childhood moments that led you to be expressive through art.

- With that one hangout, you two were stuck on each other's mind and the next couple weeks were just used to get to be around you more. Mitsuya began to visit you in your studio more often than he should, sometimes bringing in his sisters just to help watch them.

"Can you draw me a butterfly?" Luna asked, pointing to her cheek as Mana tugged on your shirt. "Can I get a flower?" She timidly said as you chuckled. "Anything for you girls."

- While you were painting on his sisters, Mitsuya took the time to walk around your place, admiring every sketch, canvas, experimentations of different styles and colorings—he loved everything. He sees the smile and glow in you when you were painting so he thought you were really passionate about it.

- The girls were so in love with what you did as it seems like it was actually their brothers turn to get his 'tattoo' as he rolls up his sleeve for you to work on his forearm. "Can I hold your hand if the needle hurts?" He joked but soon, you two got shy at the thought of holding each other's hand.

- As you start drawing on him, Mitsuya holds back his tongue to avoid letting you go out of focus so he just lets his eyes rest on you, letting his heart roam unsteady to see you this close.

"You're gorgeous." He whispers, out of thought until he clears his throat making you chuckle.

"You too, Mitsu."

- Note that there will be multiple picnics and late night rides on his motorcycle. For others, it was a usual get together but for you two, they were declared as dates already. One of those days, Mitsuya decides to draw you on your own notebook while your stomach was flat to the blanket you were on, busied with your own canvas and as you rest your hand, his fingers brush over yours making you both smile before letting his hand rest on top of yours.

And once you got home, you opened your notebook to be greeted by a well drawn photo of you and your phone lit up at a message from the same boy.

"Meet me tomorrow at 9am, back to the first mural of yours that I fell in love with."

- You've never been more excited to wake up, readying yourself for what was about to happen and you were already out the door at 8:40, exhilarated to travel your way to that same alley. Mitsuya was leaning on the wall before you could turn, softly reaching for your hand. "Good morning, Y/N but excuse me for a second, yeah?" He greets you, walking behind you as he covered your eyes, guiding you gently.

"Are you ready?" He whispered to your ear, making you before his hands drop to your shoulder letting your eyes feast on the mural of your shadow at the park covered in multiple different colors and strokes of his own design where your hands touched, stomach down to the blanket, not caring about what's surrounding you as the background was just plainly the park you two had gone to—depicting that no matter the beauty of what was behind you, it was you who stood out to him.

"Takashi, I-"

"Crap, I forgot to peal off those stencils. Do you mind removing it for me?" He says, pointing to a corner as you bit your lip, holding back a laugh at his smooth move. You removed it slowly, revealing every word while your heart falters. When you've successfully removed the two stencils, your eyes reread the words it left.

Will you let me love you?

Looking back at him with a smile, you made your way to him, leaning a peck on his cheek while he blushes as you spoke,

"Of course, Mitsuya."

♡ 𝐑𝐀𝐍 often loses his train of thought so he's left to stare at the walls in front of him, trying to erase whatever he'd been thinking of that night. His eyes dance over to your creation, admiring every part of it until he doesn't register how you've bumped into him.

"Oh sorry." You said, bowing and from your hand that was wrapped around your bag that had loads of paint scratches on them, Ran begins to think if you were the one who made the mural. "Let's go, Ran." Rin reminded his brother while you turned to the younger Haitani, recognizing him and he did the same with you.

"Oh, hey Y/N." He greets, when he realizes it was the same person who'd take time to finish the mural every night.

"You know them?" Ran surprisingly asked, shifting his gaze to the two of you.

"Y/N, this is my brother. Y/N is the one whose good at the murals just like our tattoo." Rindou explained and somehow, Ran was amazed.

"Well hello, an artist huh?" The older brother said, extending his hand out while you took it.

"I guess you can say." You replied with a kind smile.

And once you left, Ran's curiousness doesn't get pass his brother so Rindou spoke.

"They stop by here same time as today just to finish that mural of theirs. Go visit them or whatever." While he receives a pat from the taller boy. "You really are a good little brother."

- He doesn't know why he got interested, he can't choose between being an admirer to your work and wanting to ask what's gotten you to be this expressive or to simply get to call you as an acquaintance.

- He was quite skeptical to visit the upcoming nights feeling like he was being too eager since you were just a mere stranger but he still stopped by, actually coming in contact with a spray can of yours that fell from your hands while you were on the ladder.

"Nice to see you too." He chuckles before handing it to you.

"Thanks, Ran. What's got you here at this hour?" You asked, returning to your station to avoid how startled you were because of him.

"I noticed how it was unfinished so I wanted to watch you or in this case help since you've got no one to hold that ladders of yours."

- Much to your assurance that you didn't need help, he still held onto the ladder to support as you painted away, throwing casual glances to you and your immense focus. Sighing you sat down one of the steps as he did the same.

"How long have you been doing this?" He began to ask. He wasn't typically like this but the comfortable silence was hard to break when he's got a stockpile of questions so he lends your ears to you.

- Since that night, you two were more on the acquaintance level, letting Ran have fun on his own just spray painting whatever he wanted to do as you watched him.

"I see why you like to do this." He comments.

- Whenever you're sketching, he likes to brush your hair to be pinned behind your ear so it doesn't fall to your face, which he turned out to be the biggest distraction.

- "Say, what if I draw you instead?" He suggests, while you handed him your sketchpad as he flips a page and starts to draw. You didn't know what to do but just stay still as Ran smiles. A few minutes pass and he looks at his watch.

- "I've got to go but see you again, Y/N." He says before walking away, returning it to you as you opened the page he drew in only to see a mini version of himself with a thought bubble of every compliment he can possibly think of you with a tiny note at the bottom.

What about we go to a movie tomorrow? Message me when you're okay with it. Have a nice night, pretty. - Ran

You just smiled as you sent him the text saying how you were game for it.

- Of course the next day, the date lives on. Enjoying what was left in the moments you had but at the end of it, you're just inside your room paying no mind to the carefree conversations you make as Ran takes his time to just admire your old artworks until he's got a hold of your left over paint and began to bop it onto your nose thus leading to a chasing war while you were both covered in paint.

- Which was how he'd ask you out once again but four months from the first time he'd gone to your room, grabbing a tiny brush as you painted on his shoulder, mirroring his tattoo in a different color while he wrote a message to your forearm. You took a glance at it and suddenly butterflies began to errupt to you as Ran looked at you and asked,

"What do you say?"

Reaching for the same brush, you took it and wrote a yes to his chest, chuckling that he had to read it backwards in the mirror to figure out your answer. Once he does read it, he places a sweet kiss to your nose.

"Thanks for being mine, Y/N."

"You know that you just kissed the paint you put on me earlier, right?"

"And I could care less."

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