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seeingivy · 2 years ago

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family rules

satoru gojo x f! reader

**read the other one’s here

in which a horrible fight, an even worse accident, and a few injuries leads to you, satoru, megumi, and tsumiki creating some family rules

Megumi sits across from you on the counter, his eyes narrowing at the ground, as you press a pack of frozen peas into his eye. He winces at the contact, his eye still swelling into a brilliant shade of purple.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, kid.” you whisper.

His head remains low, refusing to meet your eye. After his fourth fight of the month, you feel helpless with where you stand with him, unsure how you can help him regulate how he’s feeling. You knew violence was an easy outlet for him, something you’re sure you had Toji to thank for, but you still tried to get him to change his ways, at least a little bit.

Satoru’s approach, however, was squandering any efforts you were trying to make. The first time Megumi got into a fight, Satoru was positively pissed, not because Megumi punched a classmate, but because he didn’t place his thumb inside his fist. It was very infuriating for him to find out his kid couldn’t punch the right way.

The second and third fights were hardly any different, Satoru majorly concerned with whether or not Megumi won, or if he hurled any insults while fighting, rather than actually reprimanding him. You knew Satoru could be immature, like a gangly man-child at times, but you were growing frustrated with his carefree nature as of late.

At the end of the day, the two of you were responsible for Megumi. Tsumiki was easier in that sense, more receptive to the help you gave her. Slowly but surely, she had been coming out of her shell, coming to you and Satoru for help when she needed it. But Megumi was a stone cold rock, stubborn as they come. A blazing ball of anger.

You hear Satoru’s key jam into the door, ready to brace yourself for the talk you wanted to have with Megumi. You had texted Satoru earlier in the day, letting him know that Megumi had gotten into another fight and the two of you needed to have a talk from him.

He pads into the kitchen, a pale pink box resting in his hands. He places the box on the counter, pressing a swift kiss to your head and then Megumi’s. As he raids through the fridge, you open the box out of curiosity and feel your blood boiling. The cake says congratulations megumi in pale blue frosting.

“Megs, do you mind joining Miki upstairs for a minute? I need to speak with Gojo over here.” you say, straining a smile at him.

Both Megumi and Satoru’s eyes widen, the use of his last name signaling to Megumi that he should leave while he still can. Megumi stalks away, taking his bag of frozen peas with him.

“You have got to be kidding me, Satoru. You bought him a cake for punching another kid in the face?” you say, clenching your fists in efforts to stay calm.

“It’s just a joke, my love. No harm done. I’ll talk to him about it later. You know, all that cheesy stuff you say - words before violence, be the bigger man by walking away.” he says, pressing a consolation kiss to your cheek as he sets out plates for dinner.

You cross your hands over your chest, absolutely livid with him. How can he be so calm about this?

“Satoru, be serious for one minute. Megumi is our responsibility. You’re doing him a disservice if we keep letting him process his anger this way. Don’t lead him down the wrong path.” you say, turning towards him.

He turns to face you, clearly frustrated with your insistence. You knew he thought you were a little bit of a stickler, the complete opposite of his carefree nature, but he usually loved you for it. However, your differences came with butting heads often, especially when it came to Tsumiki and Megumi.

“I’m not leading him anywhere wrong. You’re setting him up for failure if you tell him to keep letting kids push him around like that. You’re the one leading him down the wrong path.” he states, crossing his arms across his chest. Childish, even during a fight.

“Solving your problems with fists isn’t always the answer, Satoru. This is why he doesn’t talk to us when we ask him what’s wrong. We have to wait for him to explode, just to find out he was suffering the entire time.” you respond, clenching your fists so hard you’re sure you’ve drawn blood.

“Whatever problem he has, I’ll deal with it. Remember, he’s my kid, not yours. My responsibility. So I’ll figure out what’s best for him moving forward.”

He waits for a response, his eyes still boring into yours. You don’t bite back, but instead turn around to face the door, the tears welling in your eyes.

“All quiet now, Y/N? Have nothing to say to me?” he says.

“No, I don’t.” you bite back, bitterness evident in your voice.

“And why’s that? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago.”

“Because. He’s your kid. Not mine. It’s not really my business what he does, is it?” you spit back, turning to him with your tear filled eyes.

As much as you can care for Megumi, he’s right. Tsumiki and Megumi are technically his kids, you’re just his girlfriend who happened to stick around once they arrived. And as much as you can care and love the two of them, that doesn’t earn you a place in their family.

You feel Satoru’s fingers crawl around your wrist, his face softer than it was minutes ago.

“Hey, hey. Wait a minute.”

You shrug his wrist off, grab your keys, and run out the door. There’s no point in staying somewhere you don’t belong in the first place.

You ignore Satoru for a few hours, currently eating ramen on a very annoyed Shoko’s couch. Nanami was here as well, having been around helping her hang some paintings in her room. You feel your phone buzzing on the other side of the couch, sure it’s Satoru spam calling you after you had been ignoring his texts.

He had been texting periodically every thirty minutes, but had resorted to calling for the past ten. Shoko thinks you should slap him once, set him straight for good. Nanami thinks the two of you should talk it out, maybe explain where you’re both coming from.

You choose to ignore both of their advice, opting to watch Ten Things I Hate About You and diminish Shoko’s ramen supplies one bowl at a time instead.

Shoko runs into the room, followed shortly by Nanami, who has a phone pressed to his ear. They’re both rushing around the room, putting on their shoes and shoving random items into a bag.

“Y/N, get up. Right now! We have to go.” says Shoko, placing your shoes in front of you as you still pace the room.

You stand up, moving slowly for your shoes. They’re both still rushing around you, filling the backpack with an extra pair of clothes and the entire bunch of bananas sitting at the counter.

“Where are we going?”

They seemed to have missed the question you had just asked. Shoko nearly falls rushing upstairs to grab something, a sense of urgency present in the two of them as they move around you.

“Do you know Megumi’s blood type?” says Nanami, as he hands you a hoodie to wear.

“His blood type? Why do you need his blood type?” you say, pulling his hoodie on.

“Satoru and Megumi. They got into a car accident. They’re both at the hospital now.” he says, your blood turning cold.

He places his hand to your shoulder, squeezing once in support. A car accident. They both got into a car accident. You look up at Nanami, his brown eyes filled with concern.

“O negative. His blood type is O negative.” you whisper, grabbing your phone from the couch and heading out the door with the two of them.

As you scroll through the notifications on your phone, you realize the person calling you wasn’t Satoru, it was the hospital. You were the first emergency contact, followed directly by Nanami, who had actually picked up the phone.

Nanami nods in response, relaying the blood type on the phone. The three of you file into the car, Shoko sitting with you in the back, her hand clasped into yours.

“I know all the doctors there, they’re going to be just fine.” she says, securing her seatbelt on.

You nod, twiddling with your house key in your pocket. You pull out your phone, texting Tsumiki to see where she is. Nanami had only mentioned Satoru and Megumi, the thought of her sitting all alone in a room somewhere worsening your mood all together. As you open your phone, you finally read all of Satoru’s texts, the one’s he sent after your fight.

i’m sorry love

you know i didn’t mean it

just come back, you know he’s our kid

you’re a part of our family

i know you’re right. he shouldn’t be punching people every time he disagrees with them. i just have trouble being too hard on him, i don’t want to be like my parents

not an excuse. i know i’m in the wrong. we can have the talk with him like you wanted. just come back y/n.

kids are getting real upset with you gone, they miss you already

we’re coming to get you.

You drop your phone onto the floor of the car, the tears flowing freely now. They were coming to get you. You’re the reason they were in that car in the first place.

Shoko places a hand to your back, directing you to calm your breathing as you enter the parking lot. Nanami parks the car and you’re rolling out of the car, your feet dragging you the doors of the Emergency Department.

As you enter the waiting room, you spot Tsumiki sitting on the chair alone, her cheeks pink from crying. You run over to her, crushing her in your embrace. You feel her cry against you, separating to check she wasn’t injured.

“The blood, it’s not mine. It’s Satoru’s.” she says, hiccuping in between her words from crying.

You feel a tightness in your chest, feeling nauseous at the thought of how much blood is on her shirt. How much blood did he lose? You cross your heart that he’s still conscious at the least, so you can tell him how sorry you are for leaving in the first place.

“Megumi?” you ask, still holding her in your arms.

“He cut his arm, but I think they said he was going to be okay. They won’t let me in since I’m not over fourteen.”

“That’s okay. Stay here with Auntie Shoko and Uncle Nanami. I’ll go ahead and check on them and come back okay?” you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead.

“I want to be a part of your family.” she says, her eyes colored red. You feel your heart squeeze at her words, slightly upset at yourself for even putting that idea in her mind in the first palace.

“You are a part of my family, Miki. Me and Satoru were just having a little disagreement, that’s all.” you respond, squeezing her hand twice before heading towards the doors of the ER.

You brace yourself, pushing the two double doors open. You see Satoru’s white hair first, lying in the bed directly across from the doors. He’s hooked up to two IV’s, his eye a brilliant purple.

You walk in, grabbing his hand in yours. His eyes flutter open, his eyes softening at the sight of you across from him. He squeezes your hand twice, wincing as he sits up in his bed to face you.

“If you put on a cute little nurse's uniform, we could live out one of my biggest fantasies right now.” he whispers, his hand caressing the side of your cheek.

You laugh through your tears, cursing his idiocy in moments like this. He’s okay. He’s making perverted sex jokes while he’s in a hospital bed. He’s more than okay. You look back at him, his blue eyes staring into yours. You can feel the tears flowing out of your eyes, your neck drenched in your tears.

“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” he says, opening his bandaged arms for you to enter his embrace.

“Don’t do that again, ‘Toru. I thought you left me. You’re the only family I have.” you say, pressing your face against the side of his neck, taking in his familiar musky smell.

“Excuse me little lady. You’re the one who left me. You’re the only family I have too. Can’t believe you thought otherwise for even a second.” he says, his hand running through the side of your hair.

“You just seemed so mad. And technically, he is your kid.”

He tightens his grip, pulling you away from his chest to look at you.

“He’s our kid. I got mad but that’s what family does, love. We disagree, get into a fight, but come back to each other at the end. Kind of broke the rules by walking away, silly girl.” he says, his fingers poking into the soft of your cheek.

“We don’t have any rules. But, I won’t walk away again.” you say, cupping his face in your hands.

“Better not. I’ll crash the car again to bring you back.”

You glare at him, squishing his face tighter in your hands. Still immature, even in a hospital bed.

“There’s that downright horrifying glare I love.” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile in response, pressing a kiss to his cheek in response.

“Where’s Megumi?” you ask, settling back into his arms.

“Getting stitches. I tried to join him back there, but they wouldn’t let me.” he says.

“I’ll send Miki in to sit with you. She’s out there crying puddles. I’ll try to see if I can go in there and hold his hand.”

He nods in response, letting go of you as you get off the bed next to him.

You watch Tsumiki run into Satoru’s arms as soon as she enters the double doors with you. You watch him hold her close, whispering into her ear as you cross the hallway to find Megumi.

Before you grabbed Tsumiki, Satoru had mentioned that Megumi and Tsumiki had heard parts of your fight and seemed slightly bothered by the entire ordeal together. Tsumiki’s comment from earlier suddenly made a lot more sense to you.

You find Megumi at the end of the hallway, wincing at the doctor putting stitches in his hand. When you reach his bed, you press a kiss to the top of his head, holding his free hand in yours. Your tears have returned, the relief flooding through you that your kid is mostly still intact.

He squeezes your hand as the doctor continues, salty tears streaming down his face. You swipe your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the wetness with your hands.

“Are you mad at me?” he whispers, his eyes still narrowed towards the ground.

“No. Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

The two of you sit in silence, your hands still pressed together as the doctor continues the stitches. You can’t help but stare, eyeing Megumi for any signs of pain as time goes on. He has a long gash running down the length of his arm, a few pieces of glass lodged near his wrist.

“I won’t fight anymore.”

You shoot him a weak smile, letting him lean his head against your shoulder. The two of you sit in silence for a while, with him rubbing circles into the side of your hand as the doctor finishes. You and Megumi walk out of the hallway, his arm fully bandaged, to meet Tsumiki and Satoru back outside.

Tsumiki runs over, crushing you and Megumi into a hug. You see Satoru’s shoulders relax at the sight of Megumi, running his hands through the kid's hair as the two of you walk up to them.

You bend down, holding the two of them in your arms, with Satoru still sitting up in his bed.

“So I was thinking.”

“You can do that?” responds Megumi, effectively cutting off Satoru from whatever he was saying.

You and Tsumiki laugh in response, you ruffling his hair. You swear you can see the makings of a smile spreading across his face.

“Since we’re a family…we have to lay down some ground rules. We never made any when we started living together. First, Tsumiki always has to do whatever I say.”

The three of you glare at him, none of you finding his joke amusing.

“I’m kidding, obviously. Tough crowd. My first real rule is for Megumi. You can’t punch someone every time you’re upset with them. No more fighting.”

You smile at him, your heart beaming at his words. Megumi nods in response, agreeing to the first rule put out.

“Second, we all stay together, no matter what. No walking away. We can argue all night for all I care, but no one walks away.”

The three of you nod in response, agreeing again. Tsumiki speaks up this time, cutting Satoru off.

“Three. No arguing if we can avoid it. At least not all the time anyways.”

You and Satoru promise her you won’t fight, at least not like that again. The four of you huddle together, squeezing each other into the tightest hug known to man.

“I have one.” says Megumi, whispering into your ears. You nod at him, telling him to speak up.

“No one leaves the house without saying goodbye. You especially, Mom.”

Mom. Mom. Megumi just called you Mom. You stare down at him, meeting his gaze. You can see Satoru gaping at the two of you in your peripheral vision. He pushes himself further into the hug, hiding his face against Satoru’s shirt, the tips of his ears pink. You look over at Satoru, smiling at him. You can feel his pouting starting already, you knew Satoru was competitive when it came to these things.

You hold them all close, soaking in the warmth of the three of them against you. You feel Satoru’s hand tangle with yours behind Tsumiki’s back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Hey, fifth rule. Everyone calls me daddy from now on.”

Megumi and Tsumiki groan in response, disgusted by his choice of words. You lightly tug at the ends of his hair, signaling him to shut up and stop ruining your first moment as a family. The four of you head out of the ER, hand in hand, with a congratulations megumi cake waiting for the four of you at home.

#satoru #satoru x y/n #satoru x #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo satorou #satoru x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #jujutsu kaisen #seeingivywrites!

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mariacrow · 2 years ago

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Hey! Wanted to let you know I absolutely adore your writing!

Can I get a request for jealous bayverse bumblebee x reader where reader has just recently gotten a new gaming device and has stayed indoors more often since? He would absolutely miss taking them out for rides

I'd like to think he'd use clips from the song PS5 to talk about it, but that's totally up to you haha

Thank you, friend! 🌻 I’m glad you enjoy my writing 💛 here’s a gift for you 🐝

❁ Bumblebee x reader ❁

2nd person

female reader

takes place in reader’s backyard and house

jealousy, clinginess, needy for attention

taptaptap…

You heard someone tapping on your bedroom window while you were playing video games. You kept the curtains down for a couple of days now so the light wouldn’t distract you from the screen. You didn’t see who it was but you knew nonetheless. You were too busy having fun with your new console so you didn’t budge.

taptapTAP!

“Bee! I know it’s you!”

taptaptaptaptap…

“Stop that! You’re going to break the window!” you shouted while not getting your eyes off the screen.

You could hear him buzzing like a sad bumblebee as he once again, but this time gently, tapped your window.

He made you pause your game. Sighing in irritation, you stood up and spread the curtains. You were welcomed by the sight of Bee’s wide puppy optics and his servo on the window. He let out a sad buzz once again.

“Bee. What do you want?”

To what his optics only widened as his muzzle wobbled.

“I’m busy, can’t you see?” you said and closed the curtains again.

But oh, he’s stubborn. He won’t give up until you give him the attention he wants. He wants Y/N’s cuddles now and he’s gonna get ‘em!

It was quiet until you heard him trying to open your window from the outside.

“That ain’t gonna work, Bee!” you said while trying to concentrate on the game.

He’s smart though. He sneaked one of his wires through the window crack and unlocked it, opening it and scooting away the curtains. He peaked his head into your bedroom and happily buzzed as his antennas wriggled.

“WHA- you’re unbelievable!” you said through a chuckle. You can’t be mad at him, JUST LOOK AT HIM. HE’S ADORABLE.

“Great, you made me lose my game.”

He reached with his servo inside and grabbed your console, ripping it out from the outlet and dragging it outside.

“WHAT ARE YOU- HEY! CAREFUL, IT’S FRAGILE!” you rushed to your window to see him holding it in the air.

He crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground like an angry parent.

“Beeeee… come on man…”

“You were playing— too long!— Time for a break!” he sulked over the radio.

“I was about to! After that match!”

“You always say that!”

“Please give it back! You’re going to break it!”

He shook his helm, lifting his chin and pouting, holding it higher in the air.

“Okaaaay.. What do I need to do?”

He opened his one optic, giving you a side eye. He then leaned closer to you and tapped his cheek plate, happily buzzing. Indicating he wants a kiss.

He made you giggle, “So that’s what this is all about huh~?” you said and leaned to give him a kiss but this cheeky little bastard turned his helm in the last moment so you ended up kissing his muzzle. You didn’t mind though, you giggled as he gave a happy little dance shuffle.

He then grabbed you and yeeted your console back inside, damaging it.

“BEE!”

He laughed as he transformed and so you found yourself inside the Camaro.

“You broke it!!!”

“Nothing— Ratchet— can’t fix.” he said as he floored it, heading to the main streets, taking you out for a ride.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You slouched in your seat, “How can I possibly be mad at you?”

“I missed you…”

“I know, Bee… I’m sorry…” you rubbed the steering wheel, “It was kinda selfish… I promise I won’t be so irresponsible anymore.”

He happily buzzed and played “Sunflower” by Post Malone and Swae Lee on the radio.

“Get ready for the ride of your life, beautiful~!” he used a movie quote.

You finally realized no console or game can replace your actual loved ones. You two enjoyed each other’s company like you used to as you rode into the sunset…

Dividers belong to @patches-1105 and @lostsozai

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #bumblebee #transformers bumblebee #bayverse bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #tf bayverse #tf bumblebee

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nanamineedstherapy · 4 days ago

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The Symphony of Spite

Ryomen Sukuna x GN!Therapist Reader x Nanami Kento

Gojo Satoru x ..... (he's after one of your manz)

Also Crybaby!Gojo getting backshots from his Yandere

Summary: No summary. Read at your own risk. Because I don't even know what a good summary for this would be. A/N: I wrote this for fan-service. The fan was me.

Warnings (May Contain Spoilers): Crack Fic, NSFW Content, Explicit Language, Manipulative Relationship (just one, & it’s not yours—so relax), Toxic Dynamics (again, not yours—seriously chill), Office Romance, Love Triangle, Yandere (not your husbands, so breathe easy!), Corporate Shenanigans (think “The Office” but with more messy), Jealousy (why would you think yours? Do you not want a healthy relationship?! Let someone else have fun for once, please!), Mild Dub-Con (but only if you squint really hard), Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics (because we’re all about that corporate ladder climbing), Modern Corporate AU, Gojo is not all mighty here—just the office bimbo (yes, you read that right), you are a therapist married to Sukuna & Nanami (because... I honestly don't know), Satosugu genuinely hate each other (it’s not a enemies to lovers rom-com & has more punches), everyone wants to beat Gojo up (you'll see why), & yes, Haibara (the third wheel in your own marriage-one) is here for some reason winks. No use of y/n but you are referred to as wife once. Also, dycraphilia, fuckbuddies, & eventual smut—so if you’re underage or have a blog that’s ageless, please DNI. No, you can't skip it because they are talking during & it's essential to the plot. Enjoy the mess & remember: it’s all fun & games until someone gets a stapler thrown at them!

Nanami Kento and Ryomen Sukuna were two sides of the same corporate coin. Both had impeccable work ethics, immaculate wardrobes, and zero patience for corporate buffoonery. Their days were spent navigating a gauntlet of coworkers who couldn’t meet deadlines, bosses who made PowerPoint presentations last longer than historical eras, and HR seminars that reeked of faux positivity. And you? Their doting, mildly chaotic therapist wife, who absolutely did not have them as patients. That would be unethical, of course. But boy, did they unload their workplace woes at home as if you were billing them hourly.

It routinely started over dinner. Nanami was delicately slicing his steak while Sukuna gnawed on a chicken drumstick like he had a vendetta against poultry.

“Today,” Nanami began, his tone weary, “Kusakabe spent thirty minutes explaining why we don’t need to update our software, only to accidentally delete half the department’s spreadsheets because he clicked ‘yes’ on a pop-up without reading it.”

“Amateur,” Sukuna snorted, reaching for another drumstick. “I had to sit through three meetings about synergy today. Three! Do you know what synergy is? Nothing. It’s a fancy word for ‘waste Sukuna’s time.’”

You took a sip of your wine, your ears tuned in to the cacophony around you. It was as if a perfectly dysfunctional symphony of grievances had taken the stage, each voice blending into a chorus of disdain for corporate absurdities. Seriously, could someone just ask about your day? But of course, sharing anything meaningful was off the table, thanks to that pesky confidentiality clause.

---

A week later, you had a plan.

The idea struck during a particularly gruelling session with a patient who wouldn’t stop playing victim to her own bad decisions. You needed a release. No, they needed a release. Something cathartic but harmless. Something that could channel all their workplace frustrations into an outlet that wouldn’t get them arrested for arson.

You spent the weekend hunting for the perfect gift, eventually finding it in a quirky little music shop downtown. The shopkeeper had described it as “an instrument for anarchists.” Perfect.

That Monday evening, as Nanami and Sukuna returned home, you greeted them with an unsettlingly bright smile.

“What’s that face for?” Sukuna asked, suspicious.

“I have a gift for you both,” you announced, producing two brightly wrapped packages.

Nanami raised an eyebrow, his wariness palpable. True to form, Sukuna tore open his package without hesitation.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, holding up the obnoxious plastic horn.

“It’s called a vuvuzela,” you explained, barely containing your glee. “It’s an instrument. Well, sort of. It makes noise. Awful, horrible noise. Think of it as a stress reliever.” It was the infamous "instrument from hell,” notorious enough to be banned for its ear-splitting sound from hell.

Nanami opened his package with the resigned grace of a man who knew chaos was inevitable. His gift was a slightly different model, a kazoo. He held it up, inspecting it like it might bite him.

“You want us to... play these?” He asked, skeptical.

“No,” you said, grinning. “I want you to weaponize them.”

The next day, chaos reigned in their respective offices.

---

Nanami waited until Kusakabe began another ill-advised rant about company expenditures. He pulled the kazoo from his pocket, raised it to his lips, and unleashed a tuneless, nasally wail that drowned out Kusakabe’s voice.

The room fell silent. Kusakabe blinked. Nanami calmly put the kazoo back in his pocket and resumed taking notes as if nothing had happened.

Sukuna, predictably, took a more aggressive approach. During the fourth meeting of the day, as Fushiguro Toji, Chief Sales Officer (CSO) , droned on about “leveraging assets,” he stood, raised the vuvuzela like a battle horn, and blasted a deafening note that shook the windows.

“Consider that leveraged,” he growled before storming out.

When they returned home that evening, you were greeted by two men who looked far more relaxed than they had in months.

“You’re a menace,” Nanami said, setting his briefcase down.

“Best. Wife. Ever,” Sukuna declared, pulling you into a bear hug.

You smiled innocently. “So, how was your day?”

“Peaceful,” Nanami deadpanned. “Kusakabe hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Same,” Sukuna added. “They’re terrified of me now. It’s glorious.”

You couldn’t have been prouder.

In the end, the vuvuzela and kazoo became permanent fixtures in their work lives, an ever-present reminder to their coworkers that some battles were better left unfought. And you? You had achieved the impossible: turning corporate hell into a symphony of spiteful joy.

---

Nanami had long accepted that Kaisen Publishing wasn’t a company—it was a living, breathing disaster. As the Chief Finance Officer (CFO)—a position he’d achieved through sheer competence, meticulous planning, and the soul-crushing acceptance that mediocrity often reigned supreme in corporate life—his role demanded precision and discipline, qualities he wielded with brutal efficiency. Yet, despite his best efforts, he often found himself surrounded by chaos personified by Ryomen Sukuna, the Chief Visionary Officer (CVO), a title as nonsensical as Sukuna’s presence in the corporate world.

Sukuna was a walking HR violation, somehow both loathed and revered. His title was a sham, a position created purely to keep him from actually burning the office down. He spent his days offering “visionary” ideas like turning the break room into a paintball arena or replacing desks with throne room-like chairs. How he landed the role remained a mystery, though most suspected it involved intimidation, bribery, or sheer dumb luck.

Their hierarchy wasn’t just about titles—it was about grudges. Higuruma Hiromi, the Chief Legal Officer (CLO), had made it his life’s mission to bury Sukuna under an avalanche of formal complaints. “Improper use of company funds,” “harassment of legal staff,” and “general misconduct” were regular entries on Hiromi’s weekly HR reports.

Shoko Ieiri, the Chief Human Resources Officer (CHRO), was Hiromi’s closest ally. Where Hiromi wielded legal jargon like a sword, Shoko was the sniper, striking with pinpoint precision. She could cite obscure clauses from the employee handbook with terrifying speed, and her ability to weaponize HR policy was unmatched.

Sukuna, naturally, responded with equal malice. “You’re like cockroaches,” he told Hiromi and Shoko during one particularly tense meeting. “Impossible to kill and even more annoying to deal with.”

Hiromi adjusted his cuffs. “And you’re like a plague—persistent, destructive, and entirely preventable.”

Shoko simply smiled. “We’re just doing our jobs, Sukuna.”

“Your jobs are ruining my life,” Sukuna shot back.

“Correct,” Shoko said, her grin widening.

---

Nanami’s greatest regret was hiring Gojo Satoru. It had seemed like a good idea at the time—Gojo had potential, an impressive academic background, and a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Nanami thought he’d mold him into a competent executive assistant (EA). Instead, he got... this.

Gojo was, in many ways, the embodiment of corporate absurdity. His filing system was an enigma (folders labeled “stuff” and “more stuff”), and his scheduling skills were so bad they bordered on sabotage. Once, he accidentally double-booked Nanami for a budget meeting and a Zumba class. Nanami still hadn’t forgiven him for that because he'd never even taken a Zumba class to begin with.

“Satoru,” Nanami said one morning, staring at a calendar filled with overlapping meetings. “What is this?”

Gojo peeked over his shoulder, his blue eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Your schedule?”

“It looks like a Jackson Pollock painting,” Nanami deadpanned.

“I thought it’d be more efficient to, uh, multitask?” Gojo offered weakly.

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “Satoru, if incompetence were an Olympic event, you’d not only take home the gold medal—you’d set a world record for sheer stupidity. Your talent for failure is truly unmatched.”

Later that day, Nanami would find Gojo crying quietly in the break room. But to his credit, Gojo showed up the next morning, ready to mess up all over again, still chasing the impossible dream of Nanami’s approval.

If Nanami’s life was an exercise in patience, Sukuna’s was an unrelenting storm of his own making. Geto Suguru, Sukuna’s EA, was the only reason Kaisen Publishing hadn’t imploded.

Geto Suguru was the miracle worker. If the company were a body, Sukuna was the ruptured artery, and Geto was the overworked surgeon keeping the patient alive with duct tape and sheer willpower.

Sukuna’s visionary ideas were like abstract art—vague, nonsensical, and utterly useless in their raw form. But Geto, with his near-superhuman patience, could transform them into actionable strategies. He charmed investors out of their skepticism after Sukuna’s profanity-laden tirades and even managed to prevent most board meetings from devolving into WWE matches.

But for all his professionalism, Geto had one vice: bullying Gojo Satoru.

When Gojo had first joined the team, Geto had felt immediately threatened, not just by his impressive academic pedigree but also by his striking looks. With that tousled hair and captivating features, Gojo was undeniably attractive. But his endless blunders quickly overshadowed any initial worry, making him seem more like a crybaby than a competent assistant. Geto had breathed a sigh of relief when Gojo’s probationary period ended, but the incompetence persisted, even after six months. It was as if Gojo had a talent for turning every simple task into a disaster, and Geto was all too happy to remind him of it at every opportunity. Geto knew Gojo was harmless—a pretty face with no bite—and he took full advantage of it.

“Hey,” Geto had said one day, leaning casually against Ijichi’s cubicle wall, sipping tea like it was a spectator sport. “Did you manage to file those reports yet, or are you too busy giving the CFO more wrinkles?” Yes, they were not friends by any stretch of the word. Not in this life.

Ijichi didn’t even look up from his screen, muttering, “Leave me out of this.”

Gojo, caught mid-fumble with a stack of papers, flushed from humiliation. “I—I filed them!” he stammered, clutching the documents like the last Horcrux.

“In the right Google form this time?” Geto’s smirk widened, his tone dripping with mock concern.

Gojo’s voice dropped to an inaudible mutter as he stared at his shoes.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Suguru,” Sukuna interrupted, striding past with the air of a man who owned the universe—or at least the vending machines in the break room. He cast a lazy, disdainful glance at Gojo. “The kid’s got a real talent for screwing up. It’s practically a superpower. Almost admirable, really.”

Geto snorted and followed Sukuna, leaving Gojo stewing in the ruins of his confidence.

His shoulders slumped under the weight of their mockery, but a flicker of defiance ignited within him. Maybe one day he’d prove them wrong.

Who was he kidding?

Gojo wasn’t just bad at his job—he was transcendently bad.

Every quarter, Geto tried to have him fired, but Nanami’s pesky kindness kept Gojo’s name off the termination list. One time after too many drinks at a company event, Nanami had described Gojo as “a lost puppy with a degree from Tokyo U,” and though the description fit, it didn’t make him any less insufferable.

All Gojo was now good for was being the office eye candy that no one took seriously.

What baffled everyone was Gojo’s persistence. After five years as Nanami’s executive assistant, he still couldn’t properly file an expense report. His "innovative" solutions caused more problems than they solved, like the time he scheduled a board meeting in the break room.

Sukuna had been there, loudly devouring a double cheeseburger while Toji, the CSO, and Kusakabe Atusya, the Director of Customer Experience (DCE) , lectured him on “professional decorum.” The lecture ended abruptly when Sukuna offered them half his burger.

Meanwhile, Hiromi Higuruma, the CLO, had stormed into Shoko Ieiri’s office to debate whether Sukuna’s habit of blowing a vuvuzela during lunch breaks qualified as workplace harassment. Shoko had suggested they would add it to the HR policy under “miscellaneous noise violations.”

And Nanami? He was in his office, typing a scathing email to the COO. He wasn’t defending Gojo because he believed in his potential anymore. That ship had sailed after Gojo accidentally attached a frog meme to a quarterly earnings report.

Now, Nanami’s argument was simple: “Firing him would violate our commitment to inclusivity. He’s… special needs.”

Despite the madness, Kaisen Publishing somehow continued to function. Hiromi and Shoko kept the legal and HR departments running like well-oiled machines, albeit fueled by spite. Geto ensured Sukuna’s chaotic energy didn’t destroy the company, while Gojo... well, Gojo tried his best.And Nanami? He soldiered on, kazoo in hand, ready to face another day in the madhouse.

---

The next day, Nanami arrived early, as always, to find Gojo already there. The younger man was standing in front of the coffee machine, staring at it like it had personally murdered his parents.

“Satoru,” Nanami said, exasperated, “what are you doing?”

“It’s… it’s broken,” Gojo sniffled, holding up a coffee pod. “I think I jammed it.”

Nanami sighed. “How do you jam a coffee machine?"

“I don’t know!” Gojo wailed, his silver hair catching the fluorescent light like some tragic anime protagonist.

Nanami sighed and pulled out the kazoo. He didn’t plan to use it, but just holding it gave him a sense of power. “Fix it, or you’re fetching coffee manually.”

Gojo’s lip quivered. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Despite his constant failures, Gojo clung to the job with a desperate determination that was almost admirable. At night, he cried over Nanami’s stern lectures, but every morning, he showed up, sky-blue eyes shining with a mix of hope and masochism.

His crush on Nanami didn’t help matters.

In Gojo’s mind, Nanami was the epitome of competence and discipline—everything he wasn’t. Every scolding felt like a dagger to his heart, but it also fueled his ridiculous fantasy that one day Nanami would notice him as more than just a walking disaster.

He did not know Nanami was married, let alone with Sukuna in the same boat.

Speaking of Sukuna, his morning was less composed.

“Mr. Sukuna, you can’t just ignore CLO’s emails,” Geto said as they walked into the office.

“I can, and I will,” Sukuna growled, swinging the vuvuzela over his shoulder like a baseball bat.

“You do realize he’s filing another complaint with HR?”

“Good,” Sukuna smirked. “Keeps them busy.”

As if summoned, Hiromi appeared, clutching a thick stack of papers. “Sukuna,” he said icily, “you can’t keep calling mandatory meetings and then not showing up.”

Sukuna raised the vuvuzela . “Mandatory this,” he said, blasting a note so loud it set off the fire alarm.

And you? You were at the club with your friends, chugging espresso martinis, unaware of the havoc your gifts were causing.

---

The next day, Nanami’s day started with a knock on his office door.

It was Gojo, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“What is this?” Nanami asked, already annoyed.

“I’m sorry for jamming the coffee machine,” Gojo said, eyes glistening. “And to schedule that meeting in the break room. And for... just everything.”

Nanami stared at him, torn between frustration and pity. “Gojo, you can’t fix incompetence with flowers.”

Gojo’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I just want you to not regret hiring me.”

Nanami sighed deeply. “Gojo, do your job, and maybe I will be.”

“Go easy on him, Kento-kun,” came a smooth voice from the corner of Nanami’s office.

Gojo was startled and whipped around his head. He hadn’t even noticed Haibara Yu, the Chief Editorial Officer (CEO), lounging there like a king holding court.

Nanami grumbled something under his breath, refusing to look up from his laptop.

Gojo blinked, his surprise melting into pure joy. “You’re back, sir?”

“Of course,” Haibara said, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “How have you been, Satoru? Hope Kento hasn’t tortured you too much in my absence.”

Gojo beamed, practically glowing under Haibara’s attention. “Oh no, he’s a good boss,” he said, glancing nervously at Nanami.

“I’m hard on him because he’s incompetent,” Nanami muttered, still not sparing Gojo a glance.

Gojo’s smile faltered, the corners of his mouth trembling.

“Don’t say that, Kento. He’s trying his best, and he’s loyal to you,” Haibara said, his tone dripping with a faint undertone of righteousness.

Haibara was one of the few people in the office who was genuinely kind to Gojo. He never joined in the teasing, never snapped at him for his constant mistakes. Nanami was kind too, in his own brusque way, but Haibara? Haibara felt like safety for Gojo.

Nanami murmured something under his breath that Haibara didn’t pay attention to.

He turned fully to Gojo. “Give me those flowers if he won’t take them.”

Gojo walked over and handed him the flowers with a smile, trying his best to hide his broken heart.

“They are beautiful, Satoru.” Haibara eyed them with a smile. "Kento, please have Ino move them to my office. Also, I’m borrowing your assistant for coffee; I hope it’s ok.” He asked, already rising to his feet.

Nanami waved a hand dismissively, still typing. “Borrow him permanently if you can.”

Haibara smirked. “You know Ino would kill me.”

---

They were out the door before Gojo could process what was happening.

Haibara made small talk as they walked, his tone light. “How’ve you been holding up while I was gone?”

Gojo ranted a little as Haibara listened with a quiet intensity that made Gojo feel seen.

And then, without warning, Haibara shoved him into the private bathroom adjoining his luxury office and locked the door with a soft click.

“Sir?” Gojo started, his voice trembling, but he didn’t get to finish.

Haibara’s mouth descended on his with a ferocity that stole the air from his lungs.

Gojo hesitated for half a second, his brain scrambling to catch up. Then a soft mewl escaped his throat as Haibara’s hand cupped him through his pants. It was as if that sound broke the dam. Gojo’s hands flew up, tangling in Haibara’s hair, pulling him closer as they kissed with a desperation that bordered on violence.

It felt like drowning and breathing for the first time, all at once.

Haibara broke the kiss only to bite Gojo’s neck, his teeth sinking into the delicate skin. Gojo gasped, his breathing ragged as Haibara turned his jaw to the side, exposing more of his neck.

“I asked you a question, princess,” Haibara murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Gojo blinked, trying to form a coherent thought through the haze of sensation. "I... I messed up again,” he stammered. “They hate me. The reports had errors, and the budgets—Geto explained the formula to me many times, but I still... I’m sorry.”

Haibara hummed, his lips trailing down Gojo’s throat as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“I broke the printer,” Gojo confessed, his voice breaking. “Shoko, Ijichi, and Hiromi fined me. I don’t even make enough.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Haibara said, his voice a velvet promise as he undid Gojo’s belt. “I’ll take care of it.”

Gojo whimpered as Haibara’s hand wrapped around his dick, stroking with a deliberate, almost punishing rhythm.

“I’m sorry, I’m so stupid,” Gojo babbled. “Sukuna, Toji, and Atsuya threatened to report me to HR because—because—”

“Because what?” Haibara asked, his tone gentle.

“Because I accidentally flashed them my waist during off-day tennis,” Gojo admitted, his face burning with humiliation. “I thought polo shirts were fine, but they said HR mandates suits, even off-duty. Did I do something wrong?”

“They’re messing with you,” Haibara said, his voice reassuring now, though his hands gripped Gojo’s slender waist possessively, almost bruising him as he placed him on the sink counter. “You’re not stupid.”

Gojo barely registered the words, his mind a blur of shame and pleasure. “Takuma’s trying to take my position,” he gasped. "Please... please take him back. I—I can’t lose this job.”

Haibara’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous flashing across his face.

“Don’t worry about Ino,” Haibara said, his voice soft but carrying an unmistakable edge. “He was only reporting to Kento because I was on the business trip overseas.”

Gojo shivered, closing his eyes as Haibara’s fingers, slick with Gojo’s precum, traced circles around his rim.

For a moment, everything else faded—the humiliation, the fear, the endless cycle of mistakes. All that remained was Haibara, his touch, his voice, his overwhelming presence.

Sensing Gojo’s silence, Haibara reassured him again. “He’s not going to take anything from you. Keep talking.”

By now Gojo’s suit was rumpled, shirt open-untucked, and hair sticking up in all directions. By contrast, Haibara’s suit remained pristine, not a single strand of his neatly styled hair out of place.

Gojo grabbed Haibara by the collar, dragging him down into a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He bit Haibara’s lower lip, desperate, breathless. “I can’t wait anymore. Please...”

Haibara chuckled, low and indulgent, his fingers trailing down Gojo’s chest. It seemed Gojo’s masochistic tendencies under Nanami’s berating also extended in the bedroom, where he’d take all of Haibara right now with barely any prep. “You’re so impatient, Cupcake. Are you sure? I don’t want you crying about it later.”

Gojo nodded furiously, his hands clutching at Haibara’s shirt like he was clinging to a lifeline. “Yes, Mr. Yu. Please, sir.”

Oh, how Haibara loved it.

And Haibara would give anything those big, watery doe eyes begged him for.

Freeing himself from his pants, Haibara gave himself a few slow pumps, his eyes never leaving Gojo’s flushed, needy face.

Gojo was trying his best not to drool because just looking at Haibara’s cock was making him dumb dicked.

Then, with excruciating deliberation, he pressed into him, inch by inch, watching as Gojo’s mouth fell open in a soundless cry.

“What else happened?” Haibara asked, his voice calm and almost conversational, as though they weren’t in this compromising position.

Gojo struggled to answer, but his thoughts scattered the moment Haibara moved, his hips pressing forward, slowly. Gojo’s hands flew to Haibara’s hair, tugging as if he were going to fall. His voice cracked when he finally spoke, “Nanami-san... still hates me—ahhh!” Then cut himself off when Haibara pushed into him to the hilt, making Gojo’s back arch and eyes water.

Haibara wiped away a stray tear from Gojo’s cheek and licked it off his thumb as he started a slow, punishing rhythm. “Poor thing. Can’t even handle a little dick without crying, huh?” He teased with a smirk. “Keep going, sweet Satoru.”

Gojo whined, his voice trembling. “I mixed up the Compliance and Risk Management files with the Financial Forecasting ones... and sent them to the client by mistake. It cost the company so much money. Nanami didn’t talk to me for a week. I—I hated myself so much.”

Haibara kissed down Gojo’s chest, nipping at the sensitive skin of his nipples. His lips curved into something resembling soft, soothing coos. “Don’t hate yourself. It’s okay. It was an innocent mistake.”

Gojo was struggling to focus on Haibara’s words while he rearranged his inside by bullying his G-spot.

“No,” Gojo whimpered, his head falling back against the mirror. “Geto warned me what not to mess up, and I still did. I knew better.”

Haibara was at a loss for words now; he really dug himself there, but his rhythm didn’t falter. “Still, Kento overreacted. He’s always been stuck up like that.”

Gojo’s cries grew louder, his fingers digging into Haibara’s shoulders. “I just want him to see me as competent. I want to make his life easier, but I only make it worse—for him, for Geto. He humiliates me every day, and I deserve it. I’m useless. I make him feel like he’s doing two people’s jobs.”

Haibara stilled for a moment, his hands tightening on Gojo’s hips. “Do you want me to fire him?”

Gojo’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his tear-streaked face. “No! No, Mr. Yu, please, sir. Sukuna won’t let it happen, and I don’t want you getting hurt. He’s... he’s violent.”

Oh, his office bimbo—his crybaby. He hadn’t realized Haibara could fire anyone, even Sukuna if necessary. But as he considered it, keeping Geto around might not be so bad if it meant having the little crying angel all to himself. “Fine. I won’t touch him. But don’t just listen to him. Stand up for yourself. Or tell me, and I’ll talk to HR.” His thrusts grew faster, rougher, each movement a reminder of his control.

Gojo clung to Haibara like his life depended on it, sweat-drenched hair plastered to his forehead. His wide, glassy eyes fixed on where Haibara disappeared and reappeared into him over and over again, his lips parted in broken gasps.

“Agreed?” Haibara asked, his brows furrowing as his voice dropped to a low, commanding tone. He yanked Gojo’s hair, compelling him to meet his gaze.

Gojo, still being impaled, couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. He hid his face in Haibara's shoulder, his voice breaking with a choked moan. “Yes, sir…. Thank you,” he sobbed, his voice trembling. “But I feel so bad for Nanami-san. He’ll never see my love for him. I’m just so useless to him.”

Haibara leaned in, his tongue tracing the tear-streaked paths on Gojo’s flushed cheeks. The way Gojo’s dick twitched against his stomach told him he was close, teetering on the edge. But Haibara wasn’t done. Not yet.

He pulled out abruptly, ignoring Gojo’s whimper of protest, and dragged him down from the sink counter.

Turning him to face the warm-lit, golden-bordered mirror, Haibara pushed into him again, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. Gojo’s fingers tangled in Haibara’s hair, clutching desperately as Haibara licked, bit, and sucked on the delicate skin of his shoulders and back.

Haibara’s smirk darkened as he watched Gojo’s reflection—flushed, tear-streaked, and trembling under his touch.

His crybaby. His alone. The thought of Gojo’s unrelenting admiration for Nanami sent acid through his veins, but the jealousy only fueled him. He’d make sure Gojo stayed this vulnerable, this wrecked, for him and him alone.

Without warning, Haibara grabbed Gojo’s neck, holding him still as he reached for the small velvet box on the counter. He placed a custom Hermès necklace around Gojo’s neck, the gold gleaming against his sweat-slicked porcelain skin.

Gojo blinked, dazed, too overwhelmed to notice until Haibara whispered, “Look.”

"But... but what’s the need?” Gojo stammered, his voice cracking as his eyes flitted between the mirror and the necklace. “I already barely get to wear the Bulgari Serpenti Viper one you gave me...”

A smile tugged at his lips despite his protest.

Haibara chuckled, tightening his grip on Gojo’s neck just enough to make him gasp. He adjusted his angle, thrusting harder, deeper, drawing a strangled cry from Gojo. “It’s to remind you,” Haibara said, his voice a low growl, “that you’re not as much of a fuck-up as you think you are. I don’t spend a week hunting down the perfect necklace in Paris for just anyone.” He punctuated his words with sharp thrusts that made Gojo’s knees buckle.

“But Nanami-san…” Gojo’s voice was barely audible now, his legs trembling, threatening to give out. He was pent up after months of dry spell.

“Don’t worry about him when I’m making you feel this good.” Haibara pinched Gojo’s ass, grinning wolfishly as Gojo let out a high-pitched cry.

“Ahh, Mr. Yu!”

Haibara’s pace stayed unrelenting, his stamina endless and the dick to back it up with the way it bullied him in the right places.

“Now, I’ll ask again,” Haibara said, his voice dark and firm, “do you understand?” He gave a particularly hard thirst because he knew Gojo was close with the way his body was trembling.

“Y-yes, Mr. Yu,” Gojo sobbed, his voice cracking as he gripped Haibara’s arm and the counter for dear life. “Harder, please.”

Haibara’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he watched Gojo unravel, each tear and whimper intensifying the dark, possessive hunger within him. His crybaby was so easy to break. He obliged, his movements rough and unforgiving.

The necklace brought him immense joy; unbeknownst to Gojo, it concealed the initials H.Y. and G.S., visible only under a microscope.

This was his. His crybaby. His angel. And no one—no, one—was going to take him away.

“Cum for me, Pumpkin,” he ordered, stroking Gojo’s cock, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

Gojo’s lips trembled. “Are you calling me fat?” His voice wavered, and fresh tears welled in his eyes as he looked down at his chest and stomach.

Ah, this was also one of his annoying habits—to overthink everything.

“No, I just find you cute as a pumpkin with a pretty bow on top.” But Haibara was nothing if not his good yandere.

Gojo let out a choked laugh, his cheeks flushing deeper.

“Now cum for me, Sweetheart,” Haibara commanded, his voice dripping with authority.

Gojo’s legs would have given out if not for Haibara’s arms holding him, trembling violently as he fell apart, making a mess of himself. His cries echoed in the mirror, raw.

Haibara followed soon after, burying himself deep as his release tore through him. His grip on Gojo’s waist tightened, keeping him steady as both of them tried to catch their breath.

He pressed a soft kiss to Gojo’s shoulder. “Mine,” he thought to himself—against Gojo’s skin, the word more a promise than a statement.

Haibara gazed at the tear-streaked, thoroughly wrecked man in his arms, possessiveness tightening in his chest like a vice. No one—not even Kento—would take Gojo from him. Ever.

Gently, Haibara began fixing Gojo’s disheveled shirt and straightening his hair. If he left it up to Gojo, his clumsy ass would walk back into the office with something glaringly out of place, and the whole roaster would piece together what they’d been doing behind closed doors for over a year.

It had all started when he’d found Gojo crying alone in Nanami’s office after everyone had left, his resignation letter in his shaking hands.

That night, Haibara hadn’t just talked him out of it but also fucked him brainless until Gojo couldn’t move and forgot everything—Nanami, the resignation, his doubts—until all he could do was cling to Haibara, unable to think, or even breathe without him.

But what Haibara wouldn’t admit to anyone—not even Gojo—was that it wasn’t luck that led him there that night. He’d spent months trying to get close to him, memorizing every detail of Gojo’s life, from his coffee order to his laundry instructions. He’d followed him for months after hours, cataloguing every habit, every vulnerability, and beaten the shit out of those print factory workers harassing Gojo, catcalling him on his way into the building. Haibara made sure they never showed up to work again.

Now, they were office fuckbuddies, not that Haibara wanted it this way. Gojo still had that infuriating crush on Nanami, still sprinted off to fetch his lunch or his coffee like a lovesick puppy. But Haibara wasn’t worried. He was patient.

For now.

He caressed Gojo’s cheeks as the latter giggled, his fingers brushing over the gold custom Hermès necklace. His eyes sparkled, oblivious to the weight of Haibara’s stare.

“Wanna grab dinner tonight?” Haibara asked absentmindedly, smoothing the collar of Gojo’s shirt. He was ready for the usual rejection.

Then something shifted—just for a moment. Gojo looked at him differently, as though he was almost seeing him.

Haibara’s chest tightened, hope flickering dangerously.

But then Gojo’s phone buzzed, and he gasped. “Oh my god, I’m late to get Nanami-san’s lunch!” He spun, ready to bolt out the door.

Haibara’s hand shot out, catching Gojo’s wrist mid-step. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumb brushing over the delicate pulse point inside. Gojo froze, his breath hitching as Haibara leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss there.

Haibara’s dark eyes locked onto Gojo’s wide, cerulean ones.

Gojo’s cheeks flared red, the blush creeping up to his ears. He stammered something unintelligible before taking his hand back and sprinting out the door.

Haibara watched him go, his lips curling into a slow, satisfied smile.

---

Meanwhile, Sukuna was dealing with HR.

“This is the fifth complaint this week,” Shoko said, leaning back in her chair. “You can’t keep terrorizing the office with that thing.”

Sukuna smirked, spinning the vuvuzela in his hands. “Prove it’s me.”

“We have video evidence,” Hiromi snapped.

“So?” Sukuna shrugged. “I’m a visionary. Visionaries disrupt.”

“You’re disrupting my sanity,” Hiromi muttered.

By the end of the next week, the vuvuzela and kazoo had become infamous. Employees fled at the sight of Sukuna, while Nanami’s kazoo had become a symbol of silent ‘fuck you’ to corporate overlords. Even Gojo seemed to improve, if only slightly, terrified of losing Nanami’s approval.

---

Next week, it all came to a head when Sukuna proposed a company-wide retreat at a remote hot spring. “We need to boost morale,” he said, grinning like a man with ulterior motives.

“What you need,” Hiromi snapped, “is to stop submitting reimbursement requests for your vuvuzelas."

Shoko added, “I think we should approve the retreat. The HR department could use a break from writing up Sukuna’s infractions.”

Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Somewhere in the background, Gojo tripped over his own foot, spilling coffee all over the floor. Geto muttered something about bringing bleach to the retreat—“for the stains,” he clarified when Hiromi raised an eyebrow. Toji and Kusakabe almost got written up by Shoko for laughing.

As the meeting dissolved into a podium fight, Nanami reached for his kazoo. Sometimes, it was the only thing that kept him sane.

And you couldn’t be more proud. After all, corporate life was all about making your mark—and thanks to you, your husbands were leaving theirs in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible.

---

Later that day, the boardroom was uncharacteristically quiet, the air thick with confusion and the faint hum of the overhead lights. No one had any idea why they’d been summoned.

“Why are we even here?” Shoko leaned toward Hiromi, her voice low and tinged with boredom.

“To meet the elusive COO,” Toji replied with a shrug, stretching his legs under the table.

Ino, perched nervously next to Haibara, was painstakingly organizing a pile of notes into immaculate fonts on his tab. Geto had his arms crossed as he watched Ino’s note-sorting with mild disdain.

Kusakabe adjusted his coat and looked around. “Seriously, though, how come we’ve never met this COO? It’s weird.”

“Germophobia,” Ino offered matter-of-factly. “Someone in HR said he avoids public spaces entirely.”

The sound of a door creaking open cut the conversation short.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

The voice was unfamiliar yet strangely resonant, coming from the far end of the room.

Everyone turned to see a figure stepping out of the shadows—a tall man with striking white hair, his suit sharp enough to cut titanium.

For a moment, no one spoke. The employees exchanged puzzled glances, and Shoko tilted her head in confusion.

“Gojo?” Geto broke the silence, his voice laced with disbelief. “Did you screw up another meeting schedule? We’re supposed to be meeting the COO, not—”

“No, Suguru.”

Geto bristled at Gojo's use of his first name; one time he nearly received a ticket from HR for threatening violence over it, while Gojo sniffled near the ferns.

But this time, the voice was steady and calm, a whiplash from the bumbling tone they had come to expect from the clumsy assistant as the white-haired man stepped fully into the light, exuding an air of confidence and ownership.

Nanami’s expression shifted from tired annoyance to something closer to alarm. “What… is this?”

Gojo—or whoever he was—smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. “Allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Gojo Satoru. Chief of Operations (COO) of Kaisen Publishingbarely. ”

The room froze.

“Excuse me?” Hiromi’s tone was accusatory.

“I understand this might be a bit of a shock,” Gojo continued, his voice perfectly even. “But the truth is, I’ve been observing all of you from a different perspective. And now, it’s time for me to take a more active role.”

Geto’s jaw tightened, his composure cracking. “You’ve been... what? Playing the fool? For five years?"

“Precisely.” Gojo’s smirk widened slightly, his icy blue eyes scanning the room. “I needed to see who I could trust, who would rise to the occasion, and who would crack under pressure.”

“Trust?” Sukuna growled, his tone low and dangerous. “You mean to tell me you’ve been watching us like lab rats?”

“I prefer the term ‘case study,’” Gojo said, his voice as smooth as olive.

Shoko let out a low whistle, breaking the tension enough to speak. “This is some next-level corporate psychodrama. You’ve been playing dumb for years just to—what? Test us?”

Gojo’s gaze landed on Nanami, who looked like he’d just been handed a live grenade. “And you,” Gojo said, his voice softening just slightly. “Thank you for your patience, Kento. You believed in me when no one else did.”

Nanami’s face hardened. “I believed in someone who didn’t exist.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Gojo adjusted his cufflinks, the faintest trace of a grin playing at his lips.

“Well,” he said, stepping back toward the door. “I hope this clears up any confusion. From now on, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. Let’s make sure Kaisen Publishing continues to thrive.”

Before leaving, he stopped and turned, “Also, Haibara, a word?”

Whatever was going on in Haibara’s head, he didn’t show, just followed.

And with that, Gojo walked out, leaving the boardroom in stunned silence.

A/N: I swear, this started as a cute little fic about the reader giving Nanami a kazoo, & somehow it spiraled into corporate angst, smut, & crybaby gojo for some reason. Like he's the office bimbo who no one takes seriously, truly a man in women-dominated fields. haha.. I’ve only written smut four times, & yet TWO of those have Nanami topping & Gojo being a bottom in two, while Haibara & Sukuna top somewhere in there. I'm baffled! Like… how did we get here? I’m confused because canon Gojo radiates I’m-the-top-but-I-cry-after energy, yet here I am, dragging him into bottom hell AGAIN. (Honestly? No regrets; all of us would lick his tears too, SHAMELESSLY!) Haibara, though… HAIBARA. Listen, I gave myself whiplash writing him. He’s my own OC from my fic 'Third Wheeling your own Marriage," & yet I’m feral for him. You guys hyping him up like he’s canon-validates every single unhinged decision I made there. We never saw adult Haibara, but I was like, "What if he was hot, obsessive, & dom-coded?” And here we are. This man fights for Gojo, literally & metaphorically, while Nanami sighs in the background with his kazoo. Quick sidebar: Tumblr, confuses me. For an app full of people who swear they don’t self-ship, why is every other post a “x reader” fic? No hate (I’m guilty too), just an observation. Shoutout to my AO3 gang, though—we ride for our ships. Nanago nation, rise up. I said what I said: Nanago makes more sense for adult Gojo. Don’t agree? Go argue with a wall. I love Satosugu; I do, but Nanami is just… superior. (Maybe because I, too, am a corporate baddie barely holding it together. We’re twinning.) Anyway, sorry for the rant. Toji & Kusakabe backtracking on Sukuna mid-lecture because they wanted his burger was comedy gold, btw. Did you check the links? Bonus points if you did!

Oh, & about the ending… what do you think Gojo called Haibara for? Did they agree to date, or did Gojo threaten him with something? Let me know, because even I’m questioning their dynamic at this point. Okay, bye for real this time! 💕

Next Chapter 2 - The Symphony of Stress-Relief (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 9 months ago

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Headcanons of Lucifer watching his s/o and Charlie getting along and maybe even having a little musical note together I just know he'd be getting all teary eyed and shit seeing his baby girl having some form of mother figure or someone she can really look to for advice currently present in her life ❤️ Thanks sm hope u have a good day/night!

Absolutely!

I think at first the relationship between Charlie and anyone her dad dates is awkward because she's so nice and trying to be supportive and Lucifer's new s/o would be trying too hard to create that bond. But steadily, you two would find real things you have in common and begin spending time together.

I'm going to use myself for reference here, but I personally really like arts and crafts kind of stuff and am willing to listen to pretty much all genres of music as long as I like the beat/rhythm. So I imagine most of your bonding is done making posters for the hotel, doing crafts with the guests, and just in general vibing to music together.

Like, one suggested activity for the group is coloring because it's a good outlet and it becomes so popular you guys just have a permanent stack of coloring pages and books available with marker, pens, colored pencils, and you, Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie are all just coloring and talking, Lucifer's telling embarrassing stories about baby Charlie for you and Vaggie, and you share a few embarrassing stories of yourself to make Charlie feel better and the absolute relief on her face is palpable.

Charlie is nervous because some sinners critiqued her hotel, her appearance, how her dad had to bail her out in the fight against heaven and it's all just making her upset. And of course her dad and her girlfriend are gonna say stuff about how she's beautiful, the hotel is a wonderful idea, and she was so brave in that fight. And like, yeah you're dating her dad and you've been super nice so far, but when you sit down next to her and ask quietly, "Can I offer you some advice?"

"Please? I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."

You laugh, patting her shoulder. "You're young, Charlie, you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But one thing you can do, is decide not to let judgemental pricks get to you. Take every criticism with a grain of salt. Improve, adapt, and filter out bullshit. You can't make everyone happy, and you'll exhaust yourself if you try. So as long as you're happy and at the end of the day you can say you're proud of what you've done, that you tried....well, that should be enough, right?"

Charlie thinks about it and nods. There's a visible shift in her attitude. "Thanks, I needed to hear that....Do you think you could help me read through some of the reviews and stuff? I want to improve if there's any genuine issue that I can address and Dad and Vaggie are....a lot. They just keep trying to tell me everything is perfect."

"They're just trying to hype you up. They love you a lot, so naturally they want you to feel successful and excited. Come on, let's go make some big bowls of ice cream and read through those reviews using silly AI voices. It'll be hilarious."

You and Charlie head off to do just that, talkin and laughing, and neither one of you notices Lucifer absolutely melting into the floor from a few floors up, as he clings to the railing he was leaning against to ease drop. He's gonna need a few minutes to recover. He's crying happy tears. His little girl is grown up and getting along with his partner and they're spending time together and enjoying things together. You're giving her advice and offering her comfort and meeting Charlienat her level and he's just more convinced you're perfect.

He may or may not be ring shopping in the near future. Probably with Ozzie and Bee. They've always had good taste and will probably be thrilled to help him. And if Ozzie is also casually looking for a ring while they're out, well, Lucifer won't say anything.

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader

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grandlinedreams · 1 year ago

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Hii! I love your writing! Can you do a Law x shy yn please?

Hiya!! Thank-you so much, that really does mean a lot to me to have people enjoy my writing! Absolutely, I hope this is to your liking!! setting context: uh....just after Wano/defeating Kaido

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves meㅡ

"There you are." You look up from your idle task as Law approaches. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"Nothing," you answer, hoping he doesn't notice the half-plucked flower in your hand and the discarded petals by your feet.

"Not in the mood to celebrate?" he asks, moving to settle himself beside you, Kikoku set aside carefully. He's been cleaned up and bandaged well, most of it hidden under clean, untorn clothing.

"Something like that," you answer. You hadn't meant to worry anyone with your disappearance, only that the loud, boisterous energy that the Strawhats seem to radiate is usually too much to handle when you see them. They have reason to celebrate, and you don't want to ruin the mood with your less enthusiastic presence. "What about you?"

"There's only so much of them that I can take," Law remarks dryly, though there's a hint of a smirk when you stifle a giggle. Despite his frustration and outwardly begrudging tolerance for them, you know Law has a growing soft spot for the other pirate crew. (Luffy has that kind of effect, you've noticed. Eternal canon blast cheer and a tenacity for friendship that strangely seems to always work in his favor.)

There's a lapse into comfortable silence, the sound of some distant nighttime animal echoing as you twirl the flower stem between your fingers. It feels foolish to put any kind of merit into the sway of a childhood game ㅡ you're smarter than that, you know better than that. (Curse those romantic notions you've read so often in books loaned to you on occasion by Ikkaku.)

"Something on your mind?" Law's question makes you look up and over, finding him watching you with soft amusement. "You were sighing pretty heavily. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Your cheeks warm, the half-limp flower spinning faster now between your fingers, an outlet for nervous energy. "Do you think..." You trail off, fighting for the right words. "Do you think we deserve a happy ending?"

It sounds dumber now that you've said it out loud, giving a voice to those idyllic fantasies you've so often found yourself mentally entertaining as of late. Especially so in voicing it to Law, when you know he's a man of science and logic.

"I think so." Law's quiet answer makes you jolt, watching him in surprise. He isn't looking at you, gaze focused somewhere off in the distance as he speaks. "I didn't used to, not when I was so sure that I'd die trying to bring down Doflamingo. And I made my peace with that, so long as I got revenge for Corazon."

Carefully, tentatively, you scoot closer. "And now?"

"Now..." He trails off as he lifts his arm, wraps it around your shoulders to press you closer to him. "I want that. It's what Corazon would want, too." He turns towards you, raising an eyebrow in question. "What about you?"

You spin the flower stem, watch the whirl of the remaining petals before letting it slip from your fingers. You don't need that, not with the weight of Law's arm around you, the quiet, tentative requital of your own feelings. "Yes," you answer at last, "I think we do."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #ㅡanswered.#–ml: law.

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jakekiszkasmommy · 1 year ago

Text

The Professor Part 3 📖

Warnings: entire series 18+, a little fluff/angst, mentions of sex, kissing

Author's note: I am NOT condoning teachers and students having a relationship like this. This is just my reminder that this is a story made up in my brain. I hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Grammy U Jake sent me into an absolute SPIRAL!!!! I know these parts are shorter but I can't give you all the details at once- gotta leave you wanting more 😘

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

............

You wake up, fully nude, wrapped in your sheets and an empty bed. How foolish were you to think that he would stay?

You roll over and find a few Tylenol on your nightstand with a glass of water. You quickly swallow down the pills and wrap the sheet around you as you step into the chilly hallway.

You wander to the kitchen and find a plate of scrambled eggs with your favorite veggies. A note sits next to it.

You smile as you run back to your room and snag your phone off the charger. You throw on a pair of underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. You add his number to your contact list and open a new text message.

You:

Hi, thank you for breakfast! That was very sweet of you! :)

You lock your phone and toss it off to the side on the counter. Grabbing your plate, you snuggle up on your couch and put on your favorite movie. You were pleased to find that the eggs were still warm and tasted phenomenal!

It passes into late evening and you are still snuggled up in your oversized sweatshirt. Your sister stopped by during lunch to chat but you didn't see the need in changing clothes. Your hair is now a mess in a bun atop your head. You have a notebook and some pencils scattered around you as you heard a knock at your door. You look out the small window next to your front door and see Jacob standing on your porch.

You quickly dart to your room and throw on a pair of shorts before running back to the door. You open it and he turns around to face you, hands stuffed into his pockets. He dressed in baggy jeans that have been patched in countless spots and a dark blue button down. His same necklaces hang around his neck.

"Hey, sorry to pop by. I sent you a text but you didn't amswer. I, uhh, think I lost my wallet here last night." He stands there nervously. Such a change in attitude from last night.

You swing your door open wider for him to enter. "Oh, absolutely! Sorry I haven't been on my phone at all today!" You say, jutting your thumb in the direction of your living room. "I will go check my room really quick."

You head towards your bedroom to search for his wallet. Meanwhile, he steps further into your living room. Approaching the back of your couch, he notices a few sketches strewn across the coffee table and a new one you were working on. He picks up your notebook to get a closer look. It looks like the most beautiful forest scene with a archway in the distance. Every line so intricate and detailed. He carefully sets the sketchbook back down where it was before and looks up to the tv.

The movie you had chosen right before he got here was The Breakfast Club. He turns around, arms crossed, leaning on the back of the couch as you approach. He takes in your appearance and your cheeks flush. You wave the wallet between your fingers. "Found it! It was under the bed, must have gotten kicked under there when- uhh-" you trail off and hand it to him.

He plucks the leather from your hand and tucks it into his back pocket. "Thank you!" You both stand in silence for a few moments before he breaks the silence. "Well, I better let you get back to your night. You are a very skilled artist by the way. I hope you don't mind me snooping a little." He smiles bashfully.

"Oh, um, thank you! I just draw for fun! I actually love literature!" You bounce onto the balls of your feet nervously.

His eyes light up when you say that. "We all have our own creative outlets! Have a good night, Y/n." He says with a soft smile as he makes his way to your door.

.....

You wake up early the next day, wanting to gather everything around for your last first day of classes. After throwing everything into your bag, you decide to throw your sketchbook in as well in case you have any down time between classes. Most of your first day would be spent going over the syllabus and layout of the class moving forward anyways. You were already prepared. You had started on most of the online assignments weeks ago.

After driving to your favorite coffee shop, you order your favorite, an iced pumpkin cream chai tea latte. The first sip is just what you needed to get you through the rest of the day!

You decide that the walk to your first class isn't super far and head towards the direction of the North side of campus where most of your classes were held.

You threw your headphones in and started the trek, humming along to all of your favorite songs.

You pull open the doors to the lecture hall and find a seat right in the middle of the tiered rows. You set your coffee down and begin pulling out anything you think you may need for the morning. Your first two classes were back to back in the same room so that made it easy!

Your first class was rather boring, spent writing down a few notes and went by fairly quickly. You felt like you could actually get through this semester with very little hiccups.

.....

A few of your friends piled into the seats next to you for your second class. You all chatted mindlessly while discussing your class schedules. As the rest of the class shuffled into the room, your eyes looked around to see new and old faces.

Your gaze landed on a figure with his back to you. He had shoulder length brown hair that was ever so slightly naturally curled. A black velvet jacket hugged his top half with dark jeans and black boots to match on the bottom. He was having a conversation with the professor from your first class. You figured maybe it was a student that had some questions and you turned back to your laptop in front of you.

A loud clap from the front of the room made you jump and look to find the source. As you sipped your coffee, you inhaled a gasp and started coughing. Your eyes were wide as you made eye contact with the man that stood in your home just last night. Jacob.

His expression, however, remained calm and he smiled as he introduced himself. "Welcome, welcome. If you don't know me, I am Professor Oliver Reed. Those that know me well call me Jacob." His eyes dart up to you quickly before scanning the rest of the room. "But you may call me Professor. Welcome to-" he turns to write on the board behind him, "'Ancient Greek Mythology and Religion'."

You didn't take any notes during his entire lecture. You couldn't move other than following him as he walked around the room, wildly gesturing with his hands when he talked about what projects you would be working on.

Befofe you knew it, you were mindlessly packing up the rest of your belongings. The rest of your friends hurrying off to their next lectures. You had a few hours until your next set of classes. You glanced down to the front of the room and he had a book open with one of the students, pointing to specific points to note.

You noticed that you were the last one in the room to leave and you made your way down towards him at the podium. Just get this over with.

"Professor Reed," you cleared your throat. His focus is pulled to you as he tucks his hair behind his ear.

"Y/n," he whispers out in a breath. "I- I- didn't know that you were a student. My apologies. I understand if this is an uncomfortable situation for you."

"Jacob," you slip out before correcting yourself. "Sorry, Professor- Sir." You stammer. Your cheeks blushing at the name. "I, want to succeed in this class. I don't want our, um- I don't want that to affect my scores in this class."

He gives you a soft smile, "Y/n, I assure you that I will have an astute level of professionalism. My office hours are daily at 12-2pm. Unfortunately I have to run to my next lecture. We can continue this conversation with any concerns that you may have then. Again, my apologies." This side of him takes you back a little. A man living nearly two separate lives.

"Absolutely, thank you, Professor." You nod your understanding and turn to leave. Your breath is shakey and your legs feels wobbly under his gaze as you ascend the stairs.

The next few hours are a blur. You are jumping from class to class and finally feel like you have a moment to breathe by the time it hits 12pm. Shit. You haul yourself back to to the North side of campus in search for his office.

.....

Three quick knocks on his door. He stands up from his large desk that goes all the way to the floor and strides over to open the door wide. "Y/n, come in!" He closes the door lightly behind you after putting a sign on his door that says 'In a meeting'. You take a seat and he rounds his desk, quickly minimizing a few screens and pulling up a fresh blank document to type any notes on. Your eyes are glued to his open button up; the same necklaces around his neck. Your mind races back to two nights ago, his necklaces tickling your chest as he thrust into you.

"What can I help you with?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Oh- I-," you sit there flustered. "I guess I'm a little confused. Oliver?" You question.

He sees that this is not about the first day of classes but more of clearing the air between the two of you. "Ahh, yes. Jacob is my first name, but professionally, I thought Oliver was a much better fit. Jacob Oliver Reed." He folds his hands on the desk in front of him.

You nod, pursing your lips and thinking. "Jacob, sorry, Professor-" he holds up a finger to stop you mid sentence.

"Y/n, I had an amazing night with you. Truly. Hell I would probably keep whatever this is...." he pauses, "-whatever this was going if you weren't a student. But for the sake of my job and professionalism, it cannot continue. I hope you understand that. I can assure you that you will be graded just as any of my other students. This won't affect you or your grade at all. But," he pauses, "you are more than welcome to call me Jacob outside of class. You did know me prior to this as Jacob."

You feel hurt. You knew this was bound to happen. You honestly couldn't think that he would want to still see you after realizing you were his student, right?

"Thank you, for the reassurance. I didn't know. I wouldn't have- I don't normally-" you fumble over your words. You want to smack your forehead with how he already has you flustered.

His smile makes you huff out a nervous laugh. "Y/n, I didn't think you were that type either. It was....a night of revelry."

.....

After about an hour of discussion and airing it all out, you announce that you have to head to your next class. You both stand and he follows you to the door. He places a hand on the doorknob, but before you leave, he is grabbing the back of your neck, smashing his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth. Grabbing his velvety black jacket, you pull him into you, feeling his hard cock against his jeans. His firm hands grab your waist tightly. Your hands wander to his throbbing length and stroke it a few times over his jeans. A breathy moan flowing from his mouth.

He breaks away from the kiss. "Fuck, sorry, I just can't get enough of you, Y/n. You're going to be trouble. Gonna send me straight to Hell." You are both panting. You place one small kiss on his lips with a wicked smile before grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door open. Leaving him hot and bothered in his doorway.

"Thank you, Professor." You shoot him a wink and are out of his sight in a moment.

He shuts the door behind him and braces himself against the wall. Pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. Palming his hard cock through his jeans he grabs his phone out of his back pocket.

Jacob:

I just need to know if it's mutual.

You:

You can stop by tonight. Bring me dinner. And we can discuss more.

............

Author's note: this is exactly how I evision Professor Jake to look

............

Part 4

☆♡□ Message me to be added to the taglist: @vanfleeter @em-gvf01 @gvfpal @mama-likes72 @gvfmarge @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @lyndz2names @sanguinebats @ignite-my-fire @sparrowofrhiannon

#greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut

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not-in-your-walls · 7 months ago

Text

An Awkward Encounter

I wrote this when I was tired as fuck and I'm too lazy to edit it so enjoy

“So not only have you been stealing my things, possibly contaminating my food with your weird little wall germs, but you’ve also been watching me since I’ve gotten here?”

“...Well it’s not steal-”

“I’m sorry, are you going to give it back?” Audrey snapped. She didn’t know what to expect when she woke up this morning, but it certainly wasn’t a person the size of her pointer finger on her counter, now trapped within her fist.

The borrower, as he introduced himself, gave a lopsided smile in response. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all. No, it was okay, even if she was…gigantic, humans were still normal people, like any other borrower…right? He just had to act like he normally did…like the possibility of being crushed wasn’t so real.

“Well…do you want me to?” He raised his eyebrows and his smile wavered. Peace, keep the peace. The more compliant you are, the less likely you are to die. Audrey let a sigh out of her nose, her breath slightly ruffled his hair. Nope, this was not terrifying at all.

“No, no, I- you can keep it.” She paused for a moment, like she was debating something. Then, she lowered her hand and unraveled her fingers the moment it touched the counter. The borrower could feel himself relax as her hand retracted, but his guard was still up.

“Anyway…uhm, if you don’t need anything else, can I- yaknow, go…like…now? Please?” A pause.

“Yeah, sure…just- look, I really don’t mind you being here, but can you try to not touch the food you’re not going to eat? Like if you’re stealing- I don’t know, a chip- or- something from the bag, can you try not to touch the other chips?” God, that barely sounded coherent.

His eyes widened. That…was it? She didn’t want him to leave, to kill him, to trap him or…anything? That was it?

“Yeah…uhm, sure.”

“Do you want help or anything-”

“No, nope, absolutely not.” He said way too quickly. “I-I mean, not that I don’t want your help-” He didn’t. He did not wish to go through being held, having all of his limbs restrained, to be so directly left under the mercy of a stranger again. “But I can do it on my own.” He finished. He awkwardly cleared his throat. “If that’s all, I…guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He wanted to thank her for not harming him, but he assumed that would be a strange thing to thank someone for. He turned around, before he was stopped by her voice.

“So will I be seeing you again?” She blurted out. He paused for a moment.

“Uhm, maybe.” Hopefully not.

“Oh, alright.” Before she could say anything else, he sprinted behind the coffee machine. He expertly removed the outlet and hurriedly put it back once he was back, safe inside the confines of the walls. Never again. (Spoiler alert, they had another encounter)

#g/t community #g/t #giant tiny #size difference #giant/tiny #sfw g/t #g/t scenario #g/t writing

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quarterlifekitty · 1 month ago

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Hi I just RAN through all your writings and little drabbles and such and I am about to chew through the bars of my enclosure friend I swear to fuck.

Just dropping in to let you🫵🏻know some of my favorites

Can NOT stop thinking about the drabble/head cannon you did for konig where you meet him online and he helps you get a skin in your game when he surprises you at your place. It's so good. I want to gnaw on it (and him). He didn't technically lie! He just.....didn't exactly say how old he is. Sure he's like....double your age but hey! Do it for the plot! (The plot is now your entire life, konig is the plot.) It doesn't help that he's really just a good guy, he just happens to have strong emotions! So just let him provide for you, don't ask what he's doing in your country or why he needs to know if you have a passport. Totally for no reason. Absolutely none.

And then the thing you did about coercing you into anal? 😮‍💨Brother......focusing on Simons bit specifically for this one BUT him trying to play off almost thrusting into that hole as "an acciden', jus' slipped lovie" when he was in fact doing it on purpose makes me DIZZY. He wants it so bad, it's right there....if he just gets you cockdrunk enough ....maybe it'll make the burning stretch a bit easier to handle. Easier to work his way into the hole that is so tempting.

BUT ALSO! the fuckin. The goddamn baby trapping. Oh my god. It's. I'm. They just want chunky fat babies with their sweetie! Don't you think they deserve at least that? A family to call their own after all they've given? Years and years, scars and wounds and trauma, but no thanks? Nothing for their sacrifices? Well, it's about time that changed, isn't it? Just think about it, what a joy it would be if they came back from deployment to see their sweet thing with a big baby bump, waddling to greet them at the door ? They just love you so much, they have to show the world that. A fat baby with their father's eyes sitting on your hip as you grocery shop will do just that, won't it?

Anywho, I'll stop myself here. Just discovered your blog and. 🤭😗Enjoying it greatly.

Thank you soooooo muuuch! Seriously. This is like the kind of comment I dream of receiving. Also you’re so fucking correct about all of that. We love men that trick youuuuu lol

Honestly, I also love the gamer boyfriend König thing so much. Love the idea of König with like a NEET femcel type gf lol he would love that. No job, no school, no plans and horny with no outlet!! It’s perfect for him!! I’ve thought about doing a continuation for it. Maybe him getting you to move back to Austria. Fingering you on the plane while you’re focused on your switch (you’re showing him fire emblem. He usually sticks to online games, so he hasn’t played many JRPGs, but he’d like to get into them. Doesn’t escape him that you usually choose to marry the tallest, buffest bachelor available).

I am always down to write dubious Simon AND baby trapping!!! Love that shit lmao. Thank you again for your message!

#almost writing

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cardcaptorr · 4 months ago

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Do you support Israel or Palestine?

the way this question is phrased just lets me know how much yall have truly lost the plot. these are real peoples LIVES youre talking about, theyre not two sports teams pitted against each other.

I've lived in Israel for the first 12 years of my life; unfortunately I know what its like to live through war, I know what its like to run to the shelter and be a terrified lil kid thinking you could really just die. you guys have been treating this topic on social media like its the next oMGgg hashtag israel is sooo cancelled!!!🤪 and you can't even be blamed for having such a privileged standpoint because you literally can't even fathom what it's like to live through war.

with that being said, what's been happening in Gaza is x10000 more horrific than what is happening in Israel. Palestinians need support right now way more than anyone else. if you can't extend your empathy to ALL the innocent people that have been affected in this war, that's okay, Palestinians do need it more right now, more empathy, and all the support we can possibly give them.

I've been using this tumblr account since I was like 14 and I've always been vocal about not supporting the IDF/the israeli government. always talked about how much I absolutely hate Israel and hated living there. all this stuff might be news to you, but I've alwayssss had this view point, I've always been aware, and I've always wanted peace. I signed papers saying I will not be joining the IDF when I was 16, as soon as I got my american citizenship. moving here and being able to legally opt out of the IDF is a HUGE privilege.

every day that I live here I'm so grateful I'm here and not over there, I'm so happy I don't live in fear anymore. just because people in Israel absolutely have it better than the people in Gaza, doesn't mean they have it as good as you do living in the US. so if this war hasn't affected your life on a personal level, if you had the privilege of not knowing about this war until the past year, if you wouldn't have known about it at all if it weren't for social media and news outlets, if you don't have any loved ones in Israel or Gaza, be very aware of your privilege and be very grateful.

Instead of blindly hating the people of Israel and ragging on Israel on social media which is entirely fucking pointless, use that energy to show Palestinians your support instead. (also very ironic that hate is whats fueling this whole thing and you guys are choosing to spread unnecessary hate at a time like this...... just makes me lose faith in humanity tbh 🫤)

Find reputable organizations you can donate to (anything that directly goes to families over in Gaza, I think operation olive branch is a good one but please do some research about it first incase new info about it came to light, I can't remember), write to congress to ceasefire now (search it up on google you will easily find it, they also have prompts already written out you can copy and paste), support Palestinian-owned businesses and artists, look up if there are any Palestinian restaurants near you thet you can eat at, support Palestinian artists!! you can find more ways to help by looking it up on google or tiktok. spread some love today and do atleast one thing to support Palestinians today 💗 thank you if you read all this with an open mind :)

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pensat-i-fet · 2 years ago

Text

A not so soft launch (Pablo Gavi x Reader)

**@dohmeti suggested I could do a part 2 for Dealing with the enemy where both of them have to be on the red carpet and I thought it was a great idea. So after some brainstorming, this is what I came up with. This can be read on its own but reading part 1 definetely adds nice context for the characters. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the love for part 1 ❤️**

Word count: 1342

Masterlist

Wattpad

"I'm going to follow you on Instagram".

"Why?"

"To kick start our soft launch".

"Our what?"

Your boyfriend's confusion was hilarious.

"A soft launch is when you leave hints on like social media to let people know we are together. And then we do the hard launch".

"Which is?"

"Posting together, Pablo. What else?"

You keep walking around the room, phone in hand, nervous about this moment. While he just lays down in bed not understanding what a big deal this is.

"It sounds like a lot of work".

"Says the guy who spends 90 minutes running around the pitch like a headless chicken. Liking a couple of posts won't be that tiring".

"But why can't we just say we are together?"

"Because that's not how things are done nowadays. We need to do this and maybe mention something in interviews if we are asked. That type of thing".

He shakes his head and keeps scrolling on his phone while you sit on the edge of the bed, index finger hovering over your phone screen.

"Imagine it's a handbag".

"What?"

"Instead of the follow button, imagine it's the buy button for one of those handbags you love so much. You don't hesitate to press that button…at all".

"I hate you".

He reaches to you to grab you by the waist and take you closer to him.

"It'll be fine when people know about us. Stop worrying".

"But what if I lose my Madrid season ticket? Imagine the scandal".

"I'll give you one for the better team. Swapping Madrid for Barça will be an even better decision than dating me".

"Never!"

You take the phone back and press follow.

"Done!"

"So proud of you, baby", he teases, kissing your head.

"Shouldn't you be happy? You were begging me to follow you on Instagram for ages".

"Until you said yes to my offer to be my girlfriend on the first attempt. That's much better than a follow. And I know you stalk my profile anyways".

"I do not stalk your Instagram".

"And my fan accounts".

"I don't even check those. Stop lying".

"How about that time I saw you watching a video from one of them?"

"It was recommended on my explore page, Gavira".

"The explore page that recommends similar content to the one you search…makes sense".

You get up, taking the clothes you had picked before.

"I'm going to take a shower and you're not invited to join me for being an annoying idiot".

"You still love me!"

"I might change my mind about that!"

After your follow, several media outlets posted about why you would follow a Barça player on Instagram and most just assume you had your eye on him. Well, they weren't completely wrong.

There were also comments about it on Gavi's fan pages. You know, those ones you didn't check…while he was around and could see you doing it. They have great photos of him and you liked looking at them when you missed him.

"Maybe you can comment something on my new photo".

"Like what?"

You go to your Instagram to find the photo you posted a couple of hours ago. It was a behind-the-scenes shot of your show.

"I got it", he says. But he doesn't let you look at what he is writing.

A notification on your phone alerts you he had sent it and so you check it to see what he came up with.

Smart. Just a comment about work. It gets people talking without being too obvious.

"You're good at this. Ok, what should I answer?"

"How about the zipper emoji?"

"Wait. You're too good at this. I think I've found you a career for when you retire".

Throwback to when I got to celebrate my birthday on set with my absolute favourite humans!

Pablogavi: when is season 3 out?? I need it now!

Yourusername: 🤐🤐

"There are already comments from people who noticed our interaction. Perfect!", you said, pleased.

"What's next?"

“I have an interview tomorrow. I’ll suggest I might be seeing someone. And I’ll share my location too. So people can wonder why I spend so much time in Barcelona”.

He shakes his head, muttering. “So much work”.

"I've been invited to the movie premiere you are going to".

"Why?"

"I don't know", he shrugs. "I just have. I get invited to a lot of things but refuse to go. I don't want people to think I'm not focused on my career because they see me at parties".

"Makes sense", you say, cuddling to his side. "Why are you telling me about the invitation then?"

"I thought we could go together".

You think about it for a second and yes, it is a good idea. But it also feels too soon. You had only been doing the soft launch for two weeks.

"I don't know…".

"Come on. It's perfect. We show up together on the red carpet and we don't need to do anything else".

"Can I think about it?"

He nods but you could tell he was unhappy you had refused. So you mentally proceed to do a list of pros and cons.

"I don't think it's a good idea".

"Well", says Gavi, getting up and leaving you on the sofa alone. "I'm going anyway. The movie sounds fun".

Saying you feel bad would be an understatement but it is what feels like the right decision at the moment.

There had been some tension in the days prior to the premiere and Gavi uses your not wanting to be seen with him as an excuse to leave in a different car to the event.

So when you get there, you see him already attending the press. He had gone through a couple of groups of journalists and now it is your time to be interviewed by them.

"Oh my God! You look stunning. Tell us who you are wearing tonight".

"Valentino. When I saw this dress at the fitting, I didn't need to see more".

Rehearsed answers are always a winner.

"Have you seen who's here at the premiere?"

"A lot of people, I would assume", you laugh nervously, knowing who they meant.

"Well, you see, we noticed you following Gavi on Instagram a couple of weeks ago and now he's here. Maybe you'll have a chat with him? Even if he is the enemy?"

"Maybe".

You move to the next groups of reporters and, of course, there are more questions about the footballer that was getting all the attention tonight.

Too much attention, if you were to be asked. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a group of women surrounding him. Their flirty giggles were so annoying. Could they be more obvious?

You try not to roll your eyes while you keep talking to the press.

But then, one of them really pushes her luck, offering her arm so your boyfriend can take her to the red carpet to pose with her. And he accepts her offer. Obviously, she doesn't know he has a girlfriend but what the heck?

While you wait your turn to go to the carpet, you see her getting closer to him. And then…she kisses his cheek when the photographers asked her to do it!

"Oh no she didn't!"

You walk to where they are posing and when Gavi sees it is you approaching them, he starts to smirk.

"Excuse me", you tell the girl who is still holding onto his arm. "That's my boyfriend so I would appreciate it if you stopped touching him".

She looks at you, shocked, and does as you told her.

“I think you scared her”.

“Good!”

"But what are you doing here? I thought you didn't want anyone seeing us together".

"Oh shut up!"

You grab his face with your hands and kiss him, causing all photographers to move to where you two are standing so they can get the best photo.

Gavi immediately grabs your waist and deepens the kiss. His plan to make you jealous had worked perfectly.

"There is your hard launch".

#pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi angst #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballers angst

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sinsandsweetness · 2 years ago

Note

hi. idk if you’d be down to take it on but i would really like some gentle smut or just some fluff with daryl x fem!reader. him taking care of her in whatever way you see fit.

my mental health has taken a beating this week and sometimes i like to pretend he’d take care of me in his dixon sorta way.

if not, that’s absolutely okay. thank you regardless. ♡

I’m sorry your mental health has been tough on you lately, baby. I’m honoured if my blog can act as an outlet to escape for a little while <3

I went with fluff/comfort because I’m just in that kinda mood so… enjoy sweetheart (and feel free to check out @daenysx and @writella for some soft/gentle smut as well)

Wiping your runny nose with your sleeve, you take a few deep breaths and attempt to compose yourself. Knowing that Daryl would be home any minute now. You didn’t feel like being questioned about your tears. Rolling your sleeves up, you dip your hands into the hot soapy water, grabbing the nearest plate and getting to work on it. Using the sponge in your other hand to scrub the porcelain a borderline excessive amount. Rinsing the dish off under a cooler stream, watching all the bubbles swirl down the drain, before placing it on a clean towel, laid out on the counter.

You hear the front door open and close. Taking a deep breath you try to calm yourself even further before the man sees your glossy eyes and flushed face.

You grab a glass and begin cleaning the rim, then the inside, twisting the sponge in order to reach the bottom of the cup.

Within a minute, you feel strong, leather covered arms wrap around your waist, as Daryl rests his chin you your shoulder. You let out an involuntary sigh at his touch. So warm and comforting. Something you’d been craving all day.

His beard tickles your skin as he presses sweet kisses down your neck.

Finally, after the cup is rinsed and placed alongside the other clean dishes, you turn slightly to press a kiss to his lips.

Immediately he notices your slightly disheveled state, though he refrains from reacting too harshly.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, reaching up and swiping a thumb over your cheek.

You shake your head, feeling the tears starting to well once again.

“Hey, sweetie, c’mhere,” he spins you around and tucks your head into his chest, as your arms find themselves snaking under his jacket and pulling him in close. “Let me finish these.”

You look up at him to thank him, and notice a shiner on his right eye that definitely wasn’t there before he left the house that morning.

“Dare…”

“It’s nothin’,” he insists, way too focused on you to even start to explain the day he just had.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s go for a walk. You can tell me about your day, then I’ll tell you about mine. And we can see who’s is worse.” He jokes and you stifle a wet laugh into his chest.

“Going by the state of your face, I’m putting my money on yours.” You mumble.

He huffs an amused breath and tips your chin up to kiss you once more. Soft and slow and everything you need. He grabs your hands and starts tugging you towards the porch, leaving the dishes for when the two of you get back and he has you smiling and laughing instead.

“Come with me and you’ll find out.”

#daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #Daryl fluff #daryl imagines #daryl daydream #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Drabble #t’s daydreams <3

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ionegirl-art · 7 days ago

Text

*sighs* Demons are back because it’s late at night and I’ve got no one to talk to.

I’m going to be open about something - may backfire but I feel it needs to be said because my heart is actively trying to kill me. If you don’t want to read below - Tis fine! It’s not everyone’s cup of tea - nor am I. And this is a LONG post, so if you make it to the end without saying “Deuces,” then you are absolutely amazing and thank you for reading my word vomit.

I remember NOW why I left social media - how hard it was to stop doing art on DeviantArt and how it felt like a part of me died when I left that social space to go to college. It’s because I relied on the positive feedback - the validation - to make me feel like I wasn’t some weirdo who had something wrong with her brain.

Turns out I do, by the way, and it’s called LOTS of mental illnesses (agoraphobia, social anxiety, panic disorder, general anxiety, and now high functioning autism in the works-oh boy!). And while I can sit here and say “my brain just processes things differently” and give myself grace… grace is not always easily received.

Anyway - social media. On one hand it is giving me the push I needed to start on my art again. Something I have seriously neglected since … well since high school. On the other hand, I wait with bated breath to see if I get a like or a comment or a repost to get that ‘high.’ Like I’m being seen for a change. Recognized. I’m being seen as someone other than a mom or a loner or the socially awkward person in the corner of a room. But social media is a double edged sword and I had forgotten that.

Then there is the fact that the only friends I have live at least 4 to 8 hours away from me and I don’t get to see them but maybe once a year. The only people I have to talk to is my husband, my sis on Destiny, and the people I work with (and unfortunately I have nothing in common with any of them except that we work at the same place.) I have no support group where I live and social media suddenly was appealing.

I want to make friends and talk to people who have similar interests, but I am constantly doing a mental check on myself on whether or not I’m socializing correctly. I laugh HEAVILY when I’m frustrated or nervous or scared. I despise awkward silence and small talk. And I don’t want to be annoying … or scare people away because let’s face it, I’ve done it. A lot. So I don’t always know if I should say “hi” or just be silent.

Social media is a double edged sword for me and I’m not sure if it’s an outlet I should really keep nearby. I enjoy the highs I get when people like my work, but the absolute pit fall afterward destroys me. It’s a matter of “look at all these people who like my work!” Followed immediately with the feeling of loneliness that I was NOT expecting.

Anyway… this post has become way too long and I doubt I have many of you who are still here.

Case in point - you don’t know how much your interactions make me happy and I’m just afraid to lose it all by doing something stupid.

Ugh - ugly tears. Back to my artwork now.

#social media #social anxiety #mental health #mental illness #this post will find its people #original art #artwork #thank you for coming to my ted talk #are you still reading this?

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layce2015 · 2 years ago

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Ghostfacers

Masterlist

(A/N: So the way this episode is gonna be written is gonna be different. I forgot about this episode and when I watched it the other night I was like 'well, crap! How am I gonna do this?' So it's gonna be a mix of how my book is normally written but when the characters are 'speaking to the camera' it's gonna be written like how a play is written. But when Harry and Ed speak to the camera or voice over, Ed is in italics and Harry's in bold. Hopefully that makes sense.)

Hello. I am Harry Spangler

And I am Ed Zeddmore. Now if you have received this tape, you must be some sort of bigwig network executive. Well, today is your lucky day, mister.

Because the unsolicited pilot you are about to watch is the bold new future of "reality TV."

Mmmm. We know you've had it hard during the crippling writer's strike.

Lazy fat cats.

Who needs writers when you've got guys like us? Our team faced horrible horrors to bring you the footage that will change your world forever. So strap in for the scariest hour in the history of television.

In the history of your life...

Strap in for...

Ghostfacers!

Harry and Ed exit an AMC Gremlin with Wisconsin license plate, each carrying a metal briefcase with a "Ghostfacers" sticker.

You know, it can get kind of hard balancing our daytime careers with our nighttime missions.

Yeah, but Ed and I pretty much call the shots at the Kinko's where we work, so we can usually pretty much get off by six every night?

Yeah, six o'clock. It used to be just, you know, you and I taking on the cases -- just Harry and me.

Two lone wolves.

And two lone wolves need, uh...other wolves.

PHASE 1: THE HOMEWORK

"Morning, 'facers." Ed greets the gang as he and Harry enter the Ghostfacers office. "Good morning, Ghostfacers." Harry greets. "It's seven p.m., dude." Spruce, one of their teammates, informs. "It's morning to a Ghostfacer. Corbett, what do we got, buddy?" Harry asked the younger man.

"Oh, I'm just putting up some of the --" Corbett stammers before Ed speaks up. "Yeah, this has got to go up here. That's got to go here...got to see the whole field. Markers, eraser -- good job." He said as he looks over the board.

Corbett: I first saw Ed putting up flyers down at the -- the outlet mall in Scogan, so I-I read one, and I thought to myself, "huh. Where do ghosts come from?" And now here I am.

"Ed, your sister's abusing staff." Harry groaned as Maggie rolls her eyes at him while she sat in front of the computer. "That's adopted sister, thank you very much." Ed corrected him.

Maggie: Ed has been obsessed with the supernatural since we were kids, you know, and then he meets Harry at computer camp...and love at first geek.

Spruce: Spruce here. What up, playaaa? I am 15/16 Jew, 1/16 Cherokee. My grandfather is a mohel, my great-grandfather was a tallis maker, and my great-great-grandfather was a degenerate gambler and had a peyote addiction.

"Okay, people. Let's cut the chatter and get on a mission. Okay? Morton house...one of our big fish. All right, we all know the legend. Every four years, supposedly, this becomes the most haunted place in America." Ed explained to the team. "The leap year ghost, some call it. The ghost returns at midnight just as February 29th begins." Harry adds.

"And no one has ever stayed the night, right?" Maggie asked. "Yeah, well, every testimony that we dug up, every eyewitness has cut and run well before midnight." Harry tells her. "Well, that's all about to change, baby." Ed said, cockily. "Absolutely true, Ed. Absolutely true." Harry said as Ed drinks his cup of coffee then hums approvingly.

"Mmm. That's good." he compliments as he looks over F Corbett. "It's French vanilla, 'cause the other day, you said how much you liked it, so..." Corbett said, bashful, and Ed nods. "Thank you." He said. "You are welcome." Corbett said, awkwardly.

I like Corbett. I do. Shows up early, does his job, lot of good hustle out -- I think he's got the hots for Ed, and that could spell trouble for the whole team.

Corbett: Ed's kind of the more rugged, with that really golden...beautiful sort of beard. Definitely nice. Uh, and Harry's nice.

"29th is this Friday, facers. We want this mission, we got to move on it now, or guess what -- He's gone for another four years." Ed tells the team when there was a sudden loud noise. Ed's whiteboard crashes to the ground, caused by the garage door it was attached to opening up.

"Oh, watch out!"

"Who is that?"

"Dad! Come on!" Ed yells as his dad tries to pull in the garage and looks around in confusion. "Just cut the cameras. We don't need that. We don't need this part. We don't --" Harry tells Spruce before he turns the camera off.

PHASE II: INFILTRATION

"Stay low. Follow formation." Ed tells the team as they walk up to the chain linked fence at the Morton house. "Okay, as suspected. A lot of people have tried to break into the Morton house. The local authorities have just gotten fed up." Ed explained to them. "Looks like the cops have got this place pretty well fenced off." Harry said as he begins to pull out the wire cutters.

"Wait. Didn't you guys get, like, a permit or something?" Maggie asked them, making Ed and Harry look at her. "A permit?" Harry said, confused, then he and Ed share a look. "That's a good idea for next time." said Harry and Ed nods. "Yeah." He said and they start to cut the chain when Spruce shouts. "Car!"

"Car. shh, shh! Flashlights off." Harry tells the others and the team turns their flashlights off. "Keep totally still." Maggie whispers as the loud rumble of a car engine approaching, along with a radio playing "We're an American Band."

The car pulls up and they could see three people inside of it. The passenger and backseat driver stick their head out and pull out their flashlights. They shined them towards the Morton House for a few moments before they drive away.

"It's okay. Not cops -- just hicks." Spruce informed him friend as Ed opens the gate with the wire cutters. "Ed's got it." Harry said and everyone gets up. "Guys, let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Go! go!" Harry said and they start to make their way to the house.

"Hear that, people? Let's keep it quiet." Ed tells the team as they make their way deeper into house after they make it inside of the buildings. "There's the kitchen sink." Harry tells Ed. "Copy that. Copy that." Ed said as they make it to the living room area. "All right, everybody. Ghostfacers, let's line up. Everybody. We'll set up camp right here. This is command center one." Ed said and everyone sets down the equipment on the floor. "We're gonna call this the Eagle's Nest." Harry said and everyone starts setting up equipment.

"Hallway cam one up and running." Corbett said after he sets up the camera in one of the hallways. "Looking good, Corbett." Ed compliments from the main base, through the walkie. "Copy that, Ed." Corbett said, smiling, while Ed seemed baffled. "Uh...uh, you're welcome." He stammers.

'All right, Spruce, how are we doing there, buddy?" Ed asked Spruce through his walkie. "Checking basement camera two, mein fuhrer." Spruce replied. "Maggie, I got no visual on you, Maggie." Ed said. "This is Maggie. Do you copy?" Maggie's voice asked through the walkie. "There you are. Hello. Harry, are you alive?" Ed said. "Upstairs, Ed. Camera one." Harry replied.

"Looking good. I can smell syndication. All right, fellas. Let's regroup at the Eagle's Nest." Ed said to the others.

Morton House

10:40PM

Base Camp

"All right, Spangler. Battery check, battery check. Check. Okay." Harry said as they check their equipment. "Check. Check. Yo, Corbett, dude." Spruce said as he looks through the camera and at Corbett, who has a flashlight strapped to his head. "Lookin' good, Corbett." Harry said.

"You're Robocop." Spruce said to Corbett. "R-robocop? You think I -- you think I look like Robocop?" Corbett asked but before Spruce could reply, Ed speaks up. "Everybody, bring it in. Bring it in." Ed said and everyone gather up in a circle..

"We've all been here before. Standard walk-through. Team one, west. Team two, east. Spin the tires, light the fires. Ghostfacers on three. 1, 2, 3..." Ed said then all of them shout. "Ghostfacers!"

PHASE III: FACE TIME

Morton House

10:51 PM

1st Floor

"Hello! I'm speaking to the restless spirits of the Morton house!" Ed calls out as he and Corbett walk around the first floor. "Okay." Corbett mutters as they continue on. "Hello! My name's Ed." Ed shouts then he turns to Corbett. "Careful. Watch my back." He said to him. "Okay. Okay." Corbett said.

"What's your name?" Ed calls out as he looks at his EMF meter. ".3, .29." he reads out. "Is there an entity or entities here with us now? Can you give us a sign of your presence?" Corbett asked, quickly, without taking a breath. "You got to breathe, buddy." Ed tries to calm him.

"I can't breathe." Corbett said, slightly panicked. "Corbett, night vision." Ed tells him and Corbett nods. "Okay. Okay. Yeah." He whispers as he flips the night vision on the camera. "Calm down, buddy. Breathe, all right? Calm the whirlwinds of your mind." Ed tells him, calmly.

2nd Floor

"We're doing a basic EMF, EVP, temp-flux sweep. Looks like we've got all of our ducks in a row here." Harry said as he, Spruce and Maggie walk down the hall. But then there was camera interference on Spruce's camera just as the EMF makes a noise.

"What?" Harry said, shocked. "I don't know. It's weird." Spruce said but then it quit. "It's gone." He said then they come up to a door. 'All right. Get this. Get this." Harry said and he tries unsuccessfully to kick in the door.

"Turn the knob." Spruce tells him. "All right...that's a good idea." Harry said and he opens door then jumps back and runs away. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" He exclaims, fearfully. "It's just a rat, dude." Spruce said, unfazed.

I don't really like rats. They're gross. Rats are like the... rats of the world.

"What -- was that an apparition? Was that a spectral -- was that a .4? What do we got, 'cause the EMP was just off the --" Harry asked as he comes back but then Spruce throws a dead rat at him. "Oh, God! Oh, that is so not funny, Spruce!" Harry screams as Spruce chuckles.

1st Floor

"Oh, God. Okay, it was just...I think it was just this branch...Okay...in the window." Corbett said, shakily.. "This is spooky, man. This place..." Ed started to say when they were confronted by three figures, approaching them with flashlights. "Freeze! police officers! don't move!" A male voice shouts. "Oh no!" Corbett exclaims. "All right. All right. All right. Take it easy, take it easy." A different male voice assures them as Ed and Corbett start to freak out.

"Let's see some identification. Come on. Let's see some i.d." a female voice demanded as Corbet hands in his ID. "What -- are we under -- under arrest?" He asked, fearfully, as Ed said. "We are unarmed."

"Want to explain that weirdo outfit, Mr., uh, Corbett?" the man asked as he looks at the ID but Ed stops and realized that these three people looked familiar. "I know you." Ed said and the first man, Dean, looks up at him. "Yeah, sure you do. Give me some identification." Dean demands but Ed shakes his head. "Yeah, ho-- whoa, hold on a second." He said as he looks between the three people, shining his flashlight at them.

"I know all three of you. Yeah." said Ed as he looks between Dean, Sam and (y/n). "What?" Corbett said, confused, as Ed nodded while (y/n)'s eyes widen in recognition. "Holy sh--!" She said and Dean looks over at her. "What?" Dean asked as Sam's eyes widen in recognition too. "Sh--!" Sam mutters as (y/n) turns to Dean.

"Uh, West Texas...the...the tulpa we had to take out. Those two goofballs that almost got us killed...The hellhounds or something?" She said and Dean looks over at Ed. "F--- me." Dean grumbles. "Yeah, we're not hellhounds anymore, okay? It didn't test that well." Ed snapped at them.

"Ed, what's going on?" Corbett asked Ed. "They're not cops, buddy -- no, not at all." Ed tells him. "Ed, you had a partner, too, didn't you -- A different guy?" Dean asked him. "Oh, yeah, yeah." Ed replied. "Is he around here somewhere?" Dean asked him. "He's running around, chasing ghosts." Ed replied. "Okay, well, listen, you and Rambo need to get your girlfriends and get out of here." Dean tells them and Ed gets annoyed.

"All right. Listen here, chisel chest, okay? We were here first. We've already set up base camp. We beat you." he said then Dean turns to Sam and (y/n). "They were here first." He said to them as Ed nods. But then Dean grabs Ed and pushes him up against the wall. "Oh, God." Ed exclaimed.

"Ed..." Dean said in a low voice. "Yeah?" Ed said, unsure. "...where's your partner?" Dean asked again.

2nd Floor

"10.6. 10.7, guys. The EMF is really spiking here." Harry said as he and his team walk down the hall. "Temperature's down, like, 11 degrees." Maggie informs as she holds the thermometer. "All right, all right, keep your eyes peeled. This could be it." Harry said then he turns to Maggie. "Maggie, can I get a reading in here, please?" He asked when Spruce noticed the camera interference. "Something keeps messing with the chip. I don't know what's going on here." Spruce said as there was more interference, then suddenly a man in 50s-style suit and hat appears.

"Guys. Guys. Guys." he shouts and Maggie and Harry turn and see an apparition of the man. "Look buddy, I'm sorry. That's it. I'm telling you, that's all the money I --" the apparition said until gunshots ring out and the apparition of the man falls and disappears, making the three Ghostfacers jump.

1st Floor

"What are you doing in the Morton House, Ed - on leap year -- what are you thinking?" Dean asked Ed, angrily. "We're here to spend the night, okay? It's for our TV show." Ed replied. "What? Great. Perfect." Sam grumbles. "Yeah, nobody's ever spent the night before." Corbett said and the three hunters turn to them. "Uh, actually, yeah, they have." (Y/n) said. "Uh, we've never heard of them." Ed said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, you know why? 'Cause the ones that have haven't lived to talk about it!" (y/n) said to them, loudly. "Oh, come on, I don't believe you." Ed said, exasperated. "Look -- missing-persons reports going back almost a half century. John Graham stayed on a dare -- gone. Julie Wilkerson -- gone. There are tons more. All of them came to just stay the night through, always on a leap year. The only body they ever found was the last owner, Freeman Daggett." Sam explained to them as he shows the reports to Ed and Corbett.

"These look legit." Ed said, shocked. "They are legit." (y/n) said, annoyed. "Look, Ed, we ain't got much time here, buddy. Starting at midnight, your friends are going to die." Sam said when Harry, Maggie, and Spruce run down the stairs and into the living room.

"Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Guys! Guys! Oh, my god! Oh, my god! We got one! Corbett! Corbett, we saw one! We saw one!" Harry shouts to Ed and Corbett, frantically. "Get outta here!" Ed said, amazed. "It was a full apparition! It was like a class four. It was a spectral illumination! It..." Harry said before Maggie speaks up. "It was amazing!" she said then Harry noticed Dean, Sam and (y/n).

"Hey, aren't those the a------s from Texas?" Harry asked. "Yes." replied Ed. "All right, let's have this reunion across the street, guys." Dean tells them.

"Crap. What are you guys doing here?" Harry asked as Sam, Dean and (y/n) try to usher them out of the building. "Come on, come on. We'll get you ice cream -- our treat. What do you say? Let's go." (Y/n) said but Harry stands his ground. "Yeah, I say no." He said and Maggie goes over to Ed.

'Look at this. Look, look. Ed, Ed. No. No. Look at this. Okay, honest-to-god proof, all right?" Maggie said as she shows the group their footage on the laptop. "Are you kidding me?" Ed said, shocked. "Yeah. No, not kidding." Harry said, smiling.

"What kind of reading did we get?" Spruce asked. "Uh, it was a 10.9." Harry replied. "10.9?" Ed said, shocked. "Yeah, it was 10.9. It was almost 11. I came out, and I was like, 'what's going on?' And I was like -- wait, watch this. Oh! He got blasted. It was crazy." Harry exclaimed while Sam, Dean and (y/n) walk away from the group and talk amongst themselves.

Spruce follows them, still recording them on his camera.

"Think we were off on this? I mean, that was just a death echo." Sam said. "Yeah, but what's it doing here? Did anybody get shot here?" Dean asked his brother and girlfriend. "No, not that Sam and I could find." she replied as Sam shakes his head.

"What's a death echo?" Spruce asked and the trio look over at him. "Look, we got a problem here. That ghost ain't it." Sam said. "Yeah, that's real. Like, that happened." Harry said, pointing at the laptop. "What's a death echo?" Spruce asked again. "Echoes are trapped in a loop, okay? They keep replaying how they died over and over and over again, usually in the place where they were ganked. It's about as dangerous as a scary movie." Dean replied.

"So maybe the echo's not dangerous, but maybe something else is." (y/n) said and Dean turns back to her and Sam. "You're right." he mutters then he turns to the Ghostfacers.

"All right, we need to get out of here, guys. Come on. Let's go. Let's go. Let's go. Pack it up." Dean shouts. "Guys, time is running out!" Sam said as the trio go to try and move them out. "We're moving!" (Y/n) shouts.

"What about all of our equipment? What are we gonna..." Maggie asked but the trio usher them out of the room. "Lots of fun. Let's go." Dean orders while Harry talks over him. "We got more material. We got all kinds of stuff. We'll make you guys recurring guest stars." He said but Ed looks around and shouts. "Wait! Wait! Where's Corbett?"

2nd Floor

"I wish to communicate with the restless spirits here." Corbett said as he stands in a room by himself. Then there was camera interference. "Uh, lights out? Oh, I think I got night vision here." Corbett mutters and he switches to night vision. "That's better." He said as he points the camera to himself, not realizing a tall figure standing behind him.

Living Room

"No man left behind." Ed said when they hear an anguished scream in the distance. "That was Corbett." Harry and Ed said then they run up the stairs while Dean, Sam and (y/n) protest. "We'll get him! Go back!" Dean shouts. "Guys!" Sam shouts. "Damn it!" (Y/n) growls in anger.

2nd Floor

"No! where are you, dude? Tell us where you are! Corbett!" Ed shouts as they run. "Let me go! Guys!" Corbett shouts but they couldn't find him at all, just hear him. "Corbett, you need to come back, Corbett." Ed shouts then they hear Corbett screaming. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Come on." Dean said to Ed, stopping him from going anywhere as they hear Corbett's screams continue, fading away.

"Corbett's...He's not here. Let's go. Let's go." Sam encourages the Ghostfacers but Harry shakes his head. "No. No. No. No, that was Corbett. Didn't you hear that?" Harry asked while Dean, Sam and (y/n) usher the others back to the living room. But the clock had already midnight.

"Oh, god, what's happened? Oh, god. He's gone. He just disappeared." Ed mutters, devastated. "Okay, let's just go through all the angles. Let's go through all the cameras we have." Harry said while Sam, Dean and (y/n) walk off to the side.

"Well, it's 12:04, boys." (Y/n) said and Sam sighs then turns to Dean. "You good? You happy?" he asked him. "Yeah, I am happy." Dean said, sarcastically. "Let's go hunt the Morton house, you said, it's our Grand Canyon." Sam mocks. "Sam, I don't want to hear this." Dean growls.

"You got two months left, Dean. Instead, we're gonna die tonight." (Y/n) said, annoyed, as Sam picks up a chair and smashes it against the sealed front door. "Whoa! what the hell is going on, guys?" Spruce asked and the trio turn to him.

"I'll tell you what's going on. Every door, every window, I'm guessing every exit out of this house -- they're all sealed." Sam replied. "But w-why are they sealed?" Maggie asked, scared. "It's a supernatural lockdown, okay? Whatever took Corbett doesn't want us to leave, and it's no death echo. This is a bad mother, and it wants us scared." (Y/n) explained. "Or it just wants us." Maggie said when the sound of the EMF detector goes off.

"Uh, guys, the camera's fritzing again." Spruce said as there was interference on his camera. "Whoa. Whoa. Guys, the EMF's starting to spike. This is a big one!" Ed said as Harry and Maggie walked to the middle of the room, both of them secretly holding hands

"Everybody, stay close. There's something coming." Sam said when another apparition appears. "Woah!" the Ghostfacers shout. "Is this the same echo you guys saw earlier?" Dean asked Harry. "No, it's a different guy." Harry replied and Dean looks over at Sam and (y/n).

"Multiple echoes? What the hell's going on?" he asked them. 'Beats me." Sam said as (y/n) shrugs. "Okay. All right. All right. All right." Dean said then he goes up to the apparition and starts to yell at it. "Uh, hey, buddy! Hey. Hey. Wake up. You're dead! Hello!"

"What's he doing? What's he doing?" Harry asked Sam and (y/n) as Dean continues to shout at the apparition. "It's rare, but sometimes you can shock an echo out of its loop if you can talk to the part of the ghost that's still human, but usually you have to have some kind of connection to the deceased." (Y/n) explains while Dean shouts. Come on! Wake up! Be dead!"

The apparition flickers and turns around as everyone hears a noise. 'You guys hear that?" Harry asked. "What's that sound?" Ed asked as Dean shouts. Snap out of it, buddy, huh? Come on, what are you waiting for? You're gonzo! You're dead!"

A bright light shines on the apparition and the sound of a car horn approaching. The apparition flies backwards, as if hit by an invisible vehicle. "Where the hell did it go?" Harry asked as everyone looks around, confused.

The group follow Sam, Dean and (y/n) down the hallway of the 2nd floor. "Dude, there's no records of any of this here. No one got shot here. Obviously, no one got run over by a freaking train." Dean grumbles to Sam and (y/n). "Stay close." Sam said to the others as they walk on.

"Did the echoes take Corbett?" Maggie asked them. "Yes. No. I don't know. We don't know what's doing what here; that's what we're trying to figure out, okay?" Dean said, annoyed. "All right, stay close." (Y/n) tells them before Sam turns to the others.

"Okay, look, um, death echoes are ghosts, okay? Now, ghosts -- they usually haunt places where they lived or where they died." he explains. 'Except these mooks didn't live or die here." Dean added. "Right." (y/n) agreed.

"So, what are they doing here?" Maggie asked. "Hey, give the lady a cigar." Dean exclaims and (y/n) turns to her and see Maggie still holding a camera. 'All right, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean..." she said and Maggie stammers. "Um...I, uh... Well, yeah. Uh, yeah. I think so." She said and (y/n) huffs at this as they continue to walk through house.

They enter a room full of stuffed animal heads on the walls, as well as file cabinets. Sam goes over and holds up a broken framed certificate. "Freeman Daggett, house's last owner, officially commended for 20 years of fine service at the Gamble General Hospital." he said. "He was a Doctor?" Dean asked. "Janitor." Sam corrected as (y/n) looks around the room.

"This looks like his den. When'd you say he died -- '64?" she asked him. "Yeah, heart attack." Sam replied. "What are these, c-rations?" Maggie asked as she points out something that looked like food trays. "Yeah, army-issued, three squares -- like a lifetime supply." Dean said.

"God, is that all he ate?" Maggie asked. "One-stop shopping." (Y/n) said as they continued to look around the room.

"Oh, come on, guys. This is ridiculous. I mean, how the hell is this supposed to find Corbett, huh? We should be digging up the friggin' floorboards right now." Ed said as Sam holds up a dusty pamphlet. "Huh. Survival Under Atomic Attack. An optimist." He said then there's a loud BANG as Dean pries the safe open then he and (y/n) leaf through the file box.

"Crap. Crap. Taxidermy. Okay. You said Daggett was a hospital janitor?" Dean asked Sam. "Yeah." Sam Reid when (y/n) found something. "Ewww. Got three toe tags here -- one, death by gunshots, train accident, and suicide." she said and Sam and Dean's face scrunch up in disgust. "Ewwwwww!" they said, disgusted.

"What?" Harry asked. "Well, that explains why all the death echoes are here. They're here because their bodies are here...somewhere in the house." Sam said. "Daggett brought the remains home from the morgue. To play." Dean simplified then Harry and Ed made the same face.

"Ewwwww! Ugh!" they exclaimed, disgusted. "That's nasty, dude." Spruce said. "Right." Sam said and Dean looks around. "Wait a minute." He said, realizing Maggie was missing.

"Corbett." Maggie said as she walks around another room. Then she startles herself by coming across her own reflection in a mirror. "Okay, Maggie." She mutters and she swings the camera around, frightened, to reveal Dean. "Closer to the herd, okay?" Dean said as Harry runs in. "Maggie? Maggie?" He calls out. "She's fine." Dean assures him.

"Harry. Harry, I got an 8.6 and climbing fast. Something huge is coming. Look. Something big is coming." Ed exclaims. "It's past 11, you guys." Harry said as Spruce's camera got interference. 'What? Nobody move! Hold on. Hold on. Stay quiet." Dean said, quickly, as there was more camera interference.

Then suddenly (y/n), standing between Sam and Dean, disappears into thin air. "It's really cold in here." Ed said. "Harry?" Maggie said, worried, while Dean and Sam look between them to see (y/n) was gone.

"(Y/n)?" Sam said, confused, while Dean was taken aback by this. "Some kind of surge." Ed said. "(Y/n)?" Dean calls out but no answer. "Where'd she go?" Spruce asked. "Oh, no." Maggie whispers as Dean finds (y/n)'s dropped flashlight and picks it up.

"(Y/n)!" Dean shouts, panicked and worried.

"(Y/n)!" Sam calls out as they walk down the hallway. "Corbett!" Ed shouts. "(Y/n)!" Dean yells, his heart beating against his throat. "Corbett! Talk to us!" Harry shouts as they look around as well. "(Y/n)!" Sam and Dean shout just as Maggie and Harry stopped in a spot in the middle of the room, Spruce turns his camera to them.

"God, I am so scared. I'm so scared." Maggie said, fearfully. "It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay, Maggie." Harry assures her. They share a look before Maggie and Harry start to kiss.

"Corbett!" Ed's voice called while Maggie and Harry were still making out. "Bom-chicka-bow-wow...woah." Spruce whispers behind his camera until Ed finds Maggie and Harry. "My best friend... And my best sister." Ed shouts and Harry and Maggie break their kiss and embrace.

"Ed."

"Harry."

"Ed."

"Harry."

"Ed. listen, Ed." Harry said, trying to sound calm. "Are you banging my sister?" Ed asked Harry, angrily. "No! No!" Harry said then Ed takes off his glasses and turns to Spruce. "Hold my glasses." Ed tells him. "You got it." Spruce said as he takes Ed's glasses. "Ed." Harry said but then Ed attacks Harry. "Ed! Ed! Ed! Ed! Ed!" Harry shouts. "Guys!" Spruce shouts as Maggie screams. "Get off Harry!"

Then Dean and Sam show up and break up the fight. "What the f--- are you doing?! Cut it out!" Dean yells at them. "We're down by two people." Sam tells them then he and Dean turn away. "(Y/n)!" Sam shouts as he walks out. "(Y/n)!" Dean shouts.

"Great." Maggie grumbles as Harry and Ed look at each other. "Sorry." Harry said to Ed. "I'm sorry." Ed said then he turns to Spruce. "Give me my glasses. Did he knock my -- my tooth there?" Ed asked Spruce as he hands the glasses back to Ed. "Uh, no." Spruce said.

"I won that, right?" Ed asked him. "Yep. You're good." Spruce said, which annoyed Harry. "Thanks, Spruce." Harry said, sarcastically. "Yeah, it's my fault." Spruce grumbles. "That's real great. That's nice. Thanks." Maggie said as she walks off.

Meanwhile, in the basement, the song, It's My Party was playing in the background. In the middle was a table with cake and confetti and what looked like people gathered around. Corbett, who was at one end of the table, starts to come to consciousness when he heard a voice call out to him.

"Corbett. Corbett. Hey. Corbett, hey." the voice said and he raises his head to see (y/n) across the table, she was tied to a chair just like he is. "(Y/n)?" Corbett said, confused. "Corbett, hey, you got to keep listening to my voice, okay? I'm right here. Stay awake." (y/n) said but then another voice comes in.

"Don't listen." a deep voice said and Corbett and (y/n) look up to see Daggett as he picks up a knife. "It stops hurting, so don't worry." Daggett said as he goes around Corbett and stands behind him, which started to make (y/n) panic but she does her best to stay cool.

"Corbett, stay with me. Stay with me, you got it? I'm right here." she said to Corbett, who looks straight at her, and she could tell that he was beyond terrified. "Hey. Stay with me. Don't. Don't." (y/n) shouts at Daggett but it was too late as Daggett stabs Corbett through the throat. "No. Corbett! No! Corbett!" (y/n) screams as blood pours out of Corbett's wound and she watches him die in front of her.

"Corbett! Where'd you guys go?" Harry calls out as Dean and Sam look around. "Where are you guys?" Maggie calls out when Harry looks over at Dean. "Dean, what are you doing?" He asked. "Okay, so Daggett was a cold war nut, okay? He was -- he was an amateur taxidermist. He liked to slow dance with cadavers, and all he ate were c-rations, so what the hell are we looking for?!" Dean growls.

"Horrible little life." Maggie suggests. "Yeah, a lonely life...A cold war life. He was scared." Sam said but then he stops as he realized something. "He was scared...he was scared." Sam said as he and his brother share a look and both of them came to the same conclusion.

"Scared of what? What?" Harry asked but Sam and Dean run off. "Guys, where are you going?" Harry asked as he follows them. "Wait, don't leave me in here, you guys." Maggie said as she catches up to them.

"Get away from me." (Y/n) growls at the man as he walks up to her. "This won't hurt. It's okay. It's okay. Relax. Relax." Daggett assures her and he straps a party hat onto her head while Corbett slumps dead at the other end of the table.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going?" Maggie asked Dean and Sam as they start to walk towards the door of the basement. "Guys like Daggett back then, the ones who were really scared of the Russkies -- they built bomb shelters. We're guessing he's got one. I'll bet you it's in the basement." Dean said and Spruce follows him when the door slams behind Dean, cutting him and Spruce off from Harry, Ed, Sam and Maggie.

"Woah!" Harry shouts. "Woah! That is not funny!" Ed said, shocked, while Sam goes to the doorknob and tries to open it but it wouldn't budge.

"Um, who closed the door?" Spruce asked Dean, nervously. "It did. It wants to separate us." Dean replied and goes up to the door. "Sam!" He yells. "Dean! You okay?" Sam asked. "Yeah, listen to me! There's some salt in my duffle. Make a circle and get inside." Dean said. "Okay." Sam said and he walks away from the door while Ed, Harry and Maggie look at him, confused.

"Inside? Inside his duffle bag?" Ed asked Sam. "In the salt!" Sam shouts at him. "Oh, okay. Yeah. Yeah." Ed said and they make their way back to base. Dean continues down the basement stairs.

"Okay. Get in the circle. Get in the circle." Sam tells the others after making a salt circle. "Come on. Come on. Quick, quick." Ed said as Harry and Maggie get into the circle with Sam and Ed. "Guys, guys, I don't want to die, okay, and I don't want you to die." Harry cried. "Harry, listen -- listen to me, okay? listen. If we don't die...it's totally okay if you, uh, do my sister." Ed said and Maggie pushes Ed.

"Hey, hey, stopped." Sam yells when Maggie realized there was another interference on her camera. "Hey guys, hey guys, it's coming again." she tells them. "Oh, god. Oh, OK. Oh god, oh god." Ed stammers when the lights continue to flicker.

Then the group sees Corbett standing in front of them, bloody and unable to speak. "Oh. Oh, C-Corbett." Ed said, sadly, as they all look at him.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Spruce asked Dean as they make their way around the basement. "What?" Dean asked. "Earlier, you, (y/n) and Sam -- she said you had two months left?" Spruce asked. "Yeah, it's complicated. A while ago, (y/n)..." Dean started to say but stops himself and shakes his head.

"No. No. No. I'm not gonna whine about my b------- problems to some b------- reality show. I'm gonna do my f------ job." he tells Spruce and he looks around some more. "Is it cancer?" Spruce asked. "Shut up." Dean growls then he stops as he hears music.

"You hear that?" he asked Spruce.

"I've been waiting for some more friends." Daggett said to (y/n) as he leans down to her. "I get lonely. But you're coming to my party, aren't you?" He asked her as she tries to pull back as much as she could in her chair.

"Is that music?" Spruce asked as Dean goes up to a cabinet. "Yeah, it's coming from behind this wall." Dean said and he singlehandedly pushes a cabinet away from the wall. "Wow, you're strong." Spruce said with sarcasm and Dean flips a middle finger to Spruce's camera.

"You'll stay a good, long time." Daggett said to (y/n) and he raises his knife until Dean breaks the door open to the bomb shelter. "(Y/n)!" Dean shouts and he shoots Daggett, who disappears, then unties (y/n). "Oh god." Spruce mutters, horrified, as he sees the whole birthday table, with the party guests of old corpses and one new corpse: Corbett. "Oh, no, Corbett." He whispers.

Ed, Harry, Sam and Maggie were still in the salt ring as Corbett's death echo happens again. "Oh god, what have we done? Oh god." Ed mutters. "Keep calm." Sam said to them. "Ed. Ed. Corbett's a -- he's a death echo. He's reliving his own murder." Harry tells him. "Over and over forever." Maggie said, sadly.

"What's this Daggett guy's problem anyway?" Spruce asked Dean and (y/n) as they walk out of the room.

"Loneliness." (y/n) replied.

"What, he's never heard of a Realdoll?" Dean asked. "No, no, no, Daggett was the Norman Bates, stuff-your-mother kind of lonely. I mean, that's why he lifted these bodies from the morgue, threw himself a birthday party, except they were the only ones who would come. Anyway, so, at midnight, he sealed them in the bomb shelter and went upstairs and o.d.'d on horse tranqs." (Y/n) informed and Dean looks at her, confused.

"How do you know this?" he asked her. "'Cause he told me." She replied. "Oh. yeah. Okay, so now that he's dead, what? Same song, different verse, trying to get people to come to his party?" Dean said. "Pretty much, yeah. Stay forever." (Y/n) said and Dean starts to load his gun

"Are those real bullets?" Spruce asked him. "It's rock salt." Dean replied.

Harry sings the Ghostfacers theme song that they made up as they stand there until Corbett's apparition appears again. "Guys, it's -- it's Corbett. He's -- he's -- he's trapped. He's in a lot of pain, you know? We got to try and...we got to try and pull him out of his loop. We have to." Ed said as he stands up and faces Corbett. "Ed." Sam and Harry said. "Corbett. Corbett, it's -- Oh, god." Ed said as he looks down at the salt line.

"Don't cross the line of salt." Harry said. Ed hesitates, then steps over the salt line, confronting the ghost of Corbett. "I gotta do it, Harry." Ed said. Harry looks over at Sam, who nods, and Ed turns to Corbett. "Corbett, listen to me. Okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. Listen. Listen. Oh, god. Corbett. Oh." Ed said but then the ghost starts to flicker.

"Get back!" Harry shouts and Ed quickly retreats. "oh, god. Whoa. Oh, I can't, okay? He's not hearing me, okay? He won't stop dying." Ed said, fearfully.

Meanwhile, Dean is attempting to break down the basement door that's still separating Dean, (y/n) and Spruce from the others. (y/n) turns and sees that Spruce was still holding his camera and he had it aimed at her ass. "Hey!" She growls and he moves the camera back to her face. "Eyes up here, buddy. And are you seriously still shooting?" She asked. "It makes him feel better. Don't ask." Dean said when there was camera interference and flickering in Spruce's camera.

"Ah, hell, guys. Get in your ghost-role thing. Something's coming." Spruce said as he spins around and sees Daggett. Daggett then knocks Spruce and his camera to the ground, causing him to roll and scream. Spruce screamed as Daggett approaches Spruce, but is shot and dissipated by (y/n).

"I...I know how we can get through to him." Harry said. "How?" Sam asked him and Harry looks over at Ed. "Ed...He had feelings for you." He said and Ed gives him a bewildered and shocked look. "He wanted you." Harry said. "Wa-- wanted me to what?" Ed said, confused. "You know..." Harry said then he demonstrates with a slight grunt and pelvic thrust

"And you know what you've got to do. You can do it, Ed. You've always been the brave one. Yes, you can. You make us brave -- Maggie, right?" Harry said to her. "Yeah. Yeah you do. You totally do." Maggie said as Ed looks between them. "Ed...You got to go be gay for that poor, dead intern. You got to send him into the light." Harry said then Ed looks over at Sam.

"It should work." Sam said and then Ed approaches the ghost of Corbett again. "Corbett." Ed said as he steps over the salt line. "Corbett, look. Hey, it's just Ed, buddy. It's just me. Hey, hey, Corbett, listen to me. Listen to me." Ed said as he approaches Corbett..

"I -- we...Okay. You meant...Corbett, you meant a lot to the team. You meant...You meant a lot to me. You know, never back down...Never say a bad word, okay? I remember that, Corbett. I-I remember that. I remember because I love you, Corbett. I really, truly love you. Do you remember that? do you?" Ed asked, a tear running down his face, and then Corbett looks over at Ed.

"Hey. Ed?" he asked. "Yeah. Yeah, Corbett, it's...Corbett, yeah, it's me. It's me. look at me. You got to help us, man. you have to help us, Corbett. Please. please. Please help us right now." Ed begs as Corbett stares at Ed.

"Take it easy. You all right?" (y/n) asked Spruce when there was camera interference and flickering in Spruce's camera. The ghost of Daggett appears behind Dean. "Uh, guys..." Spruce said then Daggett throws Dean, then (y/n) against the wall and was about to attack Spruce.

"This is bad -- very bad." Spruce stammers, fearfully, when Corbett appears behind Daggett. "Corbett?" Spruce said, confused, then Corbett's ghost attacks Daggett and they both disappear in a blinding flash of light.

"You all right, guys?" Spruce asked as (y/n) and Dean pick themselves up off the floor. "You all right?" Spruce asked he comes up to the couple. "God." (Y/n) groans while Dean looks back at the camera, covering the lens with his hand.

Morning came as the door to the Morton House opens, and Ed, Sam, Dean, (y/n), Harry and Maggie exit. Harry and Maggie pause to hug, while Sam gives Ed his phone number on a scrap of paper and Dean checks on (y/n). Then they start to load up and leave

Leap year, February 29th, the Morton House. A tragic day. A day of souls bound in torment, of lives held in cruel balance. But the Ghostfacers, they did the best that they could.

We lost a beloved friend, but we gained new allies.

We know this much: that every day, including today, is a new beginning. We learned more than we can say in the brutal feat of the Morton House.

The Ghostfacers were forced to face something far more scary than ghosts. They were forced to face themselves.

War changes Man.

And Maggie and (y/n).

War changes man. And two women...You know Corbett, we just...ah gosh, we just like to think that you're out there, watching over us.

As far as we're concerned, you're not an intern anymore. You have more than earned full Ghostfacer status. Plus, it would be cool to have a ghost on the team.

Yeah. Heh heh. And here we were thinking that, you know, we were teaching you and all this time you were teaching us, about heart, about dedication, and about how gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Thank you, Alan J. Corbett.

Go well into that starry night, young Turk. Go well.

"Come on, Spruce, I gotta get all this stuff packed up!" Corbett said as he and Spruce load up the van, getting ready to head to the Morton house. "So, pack and talk!" Spruce said as he aims the camera at him. "I don't know what to say." Corbett said. "Say what comes to mind. This is one of our confessional moments, Corbett, so confess. What did you think was going to happen tonight? What do you think is going to happen on this trip?" Spruce asked him.

Corbett sighs then thinks before he speaks up. "I think tonight, I really do, I think all of our dreams are going to come true." He replies then looks over at Spruce. "Does that sound stupid?" He asked. "Kind of does, yeah." Spruce said and the two chuckle a bit.

In Memory of Alan J. Corbett,

1985-2008

King of the Impossible

*(y/n)'s POV*

"So, guys, what do you think? Are you alright?" Ed asked us as the boys and I say there and finished watching Ed and Harry's show. "You know, I kind of think it was half-awesome." Dean replies. "Half-awesome? That - that's full-on good, right?" Maggie said, excited.

"Yeah, um, I mean it's bizarre how you all are able to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death. Well done." Sam said as Dean secretly slips the device into a backpack under the table. "Yeah. It's a real tight rope you guys are walking there." I said. "Yeah, all right guys." Sam mutters.

"Nah, that's reality, man. Yeah, Corbett gave his life searching for the truth, and it's our job over here to share it with the world." Ed said. "Right. Well, um, our experience, you know what you get when you show the world the truth?" Sam asked him. "A straightjacket." I said. "Or a punch in the face. Sometimes both." Dean adds. "Right." Sam said.

"Oh come on, guys, don't be 'facer haters just because we happen to have gotten the footage of the century." Harry exclaims. "Oh yeah." Ed said. "You got us there." I said, shrugging. "Yeah." Sam said. "Yeah, well we'll see you guys around." Sam said as we start to head towards the door.

"Peace out." Spruce said as Sam, Dean and I leave and Ed shuts the door behind us.

"We clean?" Sam asked as we get to the Impala. Suddenly, we hear Ed shout. "No! are you kidding me?"

"Electromagnet wiped out every tape and hard drive that they have." Dean said, smiling. "The world just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers." I said as we get into the car. "It's too bad. I kinda liked the show." Dean said. "It had its moments." Sam said and I nod. "Yeah, it was pretty entertaining." I added then Dean starts the Impala and we drive off.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

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