#GUYS I DID IT

[bluebelledmoon]

"The Final Photoshoot"

gabriel agreste was soon found being strangled by a blue feathered boy after this was released

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

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"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

___________________________________________________________

Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

[ykthefancyclamwiththepearlinside]

moodboard: theo raeken

“People only feel one emotion at a time.”

[anonymous-dentist]

Or. The Among Us au.

-

Now, Cellbit thinks that there may be a problem when he wakes up one Tuesday morning to find tentacles bubbling out of his mouth. Because he’s reformed, see. He went to prison. He went to therapy. He did his time. He’s better now, and so, really, he should be human. He’s gotten very good at it.

But it’s also the morning after his arrival on the ISS Quesadilla, himself being one of five new crewmates sent by the Federation to explore the galaxy and look for… something. He doesn’t know what, exactly; he doesn’t have high enough clearance yet, and he never will if he doesn’t get his fucking tentacles-

On the bunk across from him, Mike groans and throws a lumpy pillow at him.

“Stop being an alien, God,” he groans. “Go back to sleep, our shift doesn’t start for another three hours.”

And, well. Cellbit can’t argue with that logic. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all. He’ll be back to looking like a human when he’s calmed down some.

Cellbit closes his eyes, lets out a long, artificial breath (aliens don’t need to breathe, after all), and he lets himself relax. It’ll be fine.

-

It isn’t fine. It’s five hours later and his tentacles are gone but his teeth have sharpened into four rows of fangs and it’s very hard to talk. Luckily, his helmet is covering up most of the nasty stuff. Luckily, almost everyone on his shift already knows he’s a secret alien except for Forever, and Forever seems smart enough not to snitch if he knows what’s good for him.

The problem is that Cellbit knows why he’s suddenly devolving. He knows exactly what’s going on, and he really doesn’t know how to feel about it. Because he was alone in the universe two days ago, and now his internal biology is registering the presence of another alien somewhere on the ship, and it’s horrifying.

Cellbit can’t concentrate like this. He keeps biting his lips when he tries to communicate with his team. The wires in the electrical panels aren’t making any sense all of a sudden. His hands are shaking too badly for him to be able to swipe his I.D. card. He explains it to his Federation supervisor as space sickness and Pac and Mike back him up, and he assures Cucurucho that he’ll be in working condition by the end of the week, he promises!

But then it’s lunch, and Cellbit is eating alone in his and Pac and Mike and Forever’s cabin because his mouth is a biological garbage disposal.

This sucks.

Cellbit picks at his food, unable to even digest it in the state he’s in. Aliens, unlike humans, can’t eat vegetables. They eat flesh. Any kind, but Cellbit grew up eating human flesh. But that was then, and this is now, and, now, Cellbit is looking at a tray of frozen space vegetables and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

Knock-knock!

Cellbit’s first, instinctual response is a hiss as he flinches. His jaw splits in half down the middle, fangs bared, but then he remembers, wait, humans don’t fucking do that.

So he forces his jaw shut with his hands and pulls on his helmet. Just in case.

“Hello?” he calls.

“Hola?” is what he gets in response, and his stomach clenches because this is a very human-sounding human. “You are Cellbit, right?”

Cellbit ponders. Then, “Yes. Why?”

“Okay, yes! So Cucurucho sent me to bring you to medical-”

Oh, God. A scan is the last thing that Cellbit needs right now.

So Cellbit immediately interjects. “No, no! I’m fine! I told them I’m fine!”

“Oh, you’re fine,” the human sarcastically says. “You’re wearing a helmet, culero, I can hear it from out here. Come on, man, the faster you do this, the faster it is over with.”

Well. He does have a point. Besides, Cellbit has fudged his way through plenty of scans before. This one will just be a little more difficult, that’s all.

Cellbit puts his lunch aside and he opens the door and he stops pretending to breathe. The other crewmate is also wearing a helmet, but, through it, Cellbit can see the most beautiful eyes in the galaxy.

Said eyes crinkle up in a smile as Cellbit steps outside into the hallway and closes the door behind him. The helmet’s visor only allows access to the eyes, but Cellbit has a feeling that this man’s face is just as captivating.

“Great!” the human cheerily says. “You don’t look dead, at least!”

He laughs, and Cellbit finds himself laughing along with him. It’s catchy. This is fine.

“Come on, you’re new, right?” the human asks. He turns around and starts down the hallway to the left towards… medical? “I’ll show you the way.”

Cellbit swallows a tentacly lump in his throat and follows, two exact steps behind.

“It’s always good to get new people,” the human says. “We lose a lot of crewmates.”

“I’ve heard,” Cellbit politely says. He bites his lip again and winces. Attempt seventeen of trying to will his teeth into their human forms, go!

It’s true, though. The Quesadilla goes through more crew members than any other ship in the Federation’s fleet. It’s probably why nobody in Cellbit’s group had actually been interviewed before they were hired. Amateurs…

“It’s crazy, man. They’re dropping like flies!” the human exclaims, hands gesturing wildly.

He turns his head back to look at Cellbit, crinkled eyes glittering.

“Good luck,” he says.

Cellbit smiles back. Thank goodness for his helmet, because he can feel his jaw begin to split apart again.

“Thank you,” he weakly says. At least his vocal cords are working… and at least he doesn’t actually need his mouth to speak. “Maybe we’ll even get to work together in the future.”

He hopes so. He hopes that he can find this other alien and try to work with them to get themselves (because he knows that the other alien has to be having the same problem as him right now) together. Then Cellbit can actually do his job, and then he might even get a promotion. One step closer to his goals, and one step closer to-

The human clicks his tongue. “Now, now, don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

He taps at a badge on his chest with a gloved finger.

“‘Roier’,” Cellbit reads.

“Uh-huh. I’m Cucurucho’s favorite.”

“I didn’t know that they could have favorites.”

The human- Roier- sniffs haughtily. “Yes, and I am one.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t ever work together,” Cellbit says.

He dares step closer until he and Roier are next to each other. They’re about the same height, he notices, though he can tell even through the bulky spacesuit that Roier is far more built than Cellbit has been since he was a teenager.

“I don’t know,” Roier replies, shrugging. “Maybe. Who knows? Cucurucho is picky, you know?”

Cellbit remembers the disdainful look send in his direction when he had failed his first card swipe. Yeah, he knows.

The conversation slows to a comfortable silence, mostly because Cellbit is tired of almost biting his own face off.

And then they’re at Medical.

Cellbit pauses outside the door. Roier rolls his eyes and yanks him in, announcing their presence with a loud, “Ay, Missa!”

The medical staff on shift, a tall human in a black spacesuit with his helmet off, screeches and tumbles out of his chair.

Cellbit bites back a laugh. Roier doesn’t bother even trying to stay professional. He even walks over to Missa’s crumpled form and kicks him lightly in the side.

“Roier…” Missa complains.

“Do your job, pendejo, Cucurucho sent us.”

At the mention of Cucurucho, Missa scrambles to his feet, pale. He picks up a clipboard off of his desk and moves to close and lock the door.

Cellbit shuffles awkwardly to the side. Okay, deep breaths…

“Space sickness,” Roier explains.

“But I’m fine, really,” Cellbit tries.

Missa shuts him down with a firm shake of the head.

“Strip,” he says.

And then he flushes a bright red and stammers, “I- I mean your suit! You can hang it in a locker!”

Clearly embarrassed, he points toward a line of lockers against the far wall.

Cellbit gulps. But he… strips, gloves first and then his suit. Last, his helmet, which really should’ve been done first, but…

Luckily, his face is mostly under control again. He doesn’t feel too inhuman as he adjusts his hair in the reflection of a nearby data screen. He may be about to receive a death sentence, but he can at least look good doing it.

He turns around and faces the scanner, blushing just ever so slightly as he hears Roier gasp to himself. If he was human, he wouldn’t have heard it, it’s so quiet. And so, since he’s supposed to be human, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Just step on up, and we’ll get you done,” Missa says. He smiles, trying.

Cellbit offers a closed-mouth smile back, not trusting himself to show teeth.

He steps onto the scanner and closes his eyes, desperately hoping that it comes up as human as the ones back on Earth did-

“Oh, shit,” he hears Missa say. “It isn’t- oh, shit!”

Of course.

“What is it?” Roier demands. “Tell me!”

“I need to call Cucurucho, Roier, call Cucuruch-”

He coughs and slumps to the floor and slides off of Cellbit’s sharpened tentacle before Cellbit even realizes that he had transformed.

Oh, fuck.

Panicked, Cellbit recalls his tentacle and flinches at the taste of blood, delicious and disgustingly familiar, and his eyes open instinctively but he can’t see, it’s all just a blur, and he backs off of the scanner and-

“Hey! Cellbit! It’s fine, okay?” he hears Roier say. His voice is distant, like a dream. But Cellbit latches onto it, anyway.

Two heavy hands settle on his shoulders. Cellbit hisses, eyes narrowing and jaw splitting and fangs emerging, but then-

“Calma,” Roier gently says. “Hold on. Let me show you something.”

Cellbit can’t move. Roier is letting go of him and reaching for his own helmet, still unremoved. And then he removes it, and Cellbit is so shocked that he can’t keep his tentacles from falling out of his mouth again.

Roier is beautiful. High cheekbones, freckles, smiling eyes, soft hair, and fangs the size of toothpicks forcing his mouth ajar.

“See?” Roier asks, and that’s when Cellbit realizes that he isn’t talking in any human language anymore. This is their language, one Cellbit thought he was the last living speaker of. “It’s fine, okay?”

He smiles, and it’s terrifying in its beauty.

Cellbit manages to suck his tentacles back up, and then he smiles back.

“I thought I was alone,” he says.

“How do you think I felt, huh? What are you doing here!”

Roier lightly punches Cellbit’s shoulder.

There aren’t any security cameras in the Quesadilla, Cellbit had made sure if that before signing up for the trip. And if he can’t trust another alien, then what’s the point of this biological homing device? Aliens stick together, that’s how it always has been. Well. Had. (It’s a little hard to stick together when you’re all dead.)

So he doesn’t hesitate at all before saying, “My best friend is on board this ship. He was kidnapped.”

Roier’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! Is he-”

“He’s human.”

“Oh.”

It’s just the two of them.

“Okay,” Roier says. “So now there’s two of us.”

“Yes. And it’s a little inconvenient having to deal with the, uh…”

Cellbit glances towards Roier’s fangs. Are they sharper than his? God.

Roier shrugs. “Eh, it’ll be fine. We just keep our helmets on until our bodies decide to calm down.”

Well, he isn’t at all concerned. He should be. He absolutely should be. But… there have been a lot of disappearances on the ship.

Roier, it seems, is very good at playing human.

Cellbit lets out an excited, nervous breath. He glances at Missa’s corpse, surprise and fear still written on his face.

“We need to report this,” Cellbit says.

Roier raises an eyebrow. “Por qué? Why? He is dead.”

“Yes, and it’ll look worse if we don’t tell anyone.”

This, Cellbit is more than used to. He may be reformed, but he had a very long time to hone his craft.

Slowly calming down, Cellbit goes to start pulling his suit back on. He even manages to get his fangs to shift. Okay.

“Okay,” Roier agrees. “If anybody asks, we were coming in here for sex.”

Cellbit’s face splits open in shock.

Roier cackles, and Cellbit can only wonder if this is truly what fate has brought to him.

[sketchyreject]

I contributed to the cause.

[eiswolfzero]

I did it folks! Enjoy!!

Youtube Twitter

Youtube description/Background under the cut

Backstory that you can totally ignore:

Shinichi has been stuck as Conan for what seems like forever. There's no take down of the BO nor an antidote in sight so he decided that he would live his life as Conan now.

He tells the people who know about him that he's fine but mentally it's destroying him. He's stressed and depressed but won't admit it.

Cue KID who's trying to get them to work together. Because together they can achieve whatever they want. Although, Shinichi, no Conan, is reluctant. At first.

Thank you for watching!

[craeatus]

My favorite little hostile ship

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

Regina was in her chamber, a goblet of wine in one hand, and Maleficent sprawled on her bed.

Despite the cold outside, Regina's bedchamber was quite warm, not only because of the heated round of sex that had just taken place but also due to the dragon fire burning in the fireplace.

Regina sat up in bed when she felt a disturbance in the magical protection of her castle, especially in her room. She placed the goblet on the bedside table, and the next moment, Maleficent was alert too.

Even before the gray smoke finished dissipating in her room, Regina had her hand around the person's throat and with surprising speed, pinned them against the wall.

"Who are you?"

"Regina, it's me, Emma."

[terrific-twist]

THE SILLY????

[lyrashifts]

ROYALTY DR!

profile.

general.

family.

faceclaims.

love interest.

kingdoms.

extra.

shifting diary.

[michuyox]

[dem0nguy]

Sheriff couldn’t remember when he fell for Shooter, all he knows is that at some point he did.

And now every second around him drives Sheriff insane.

They were standing outside on the roof of La Résistance headquarters. It was cold, dead of night. But for whatever reason, Shooter wanted to be up here. So Sheriff did too.

He didn’t question whatever Shooter was doing up there. He didn’t even think Shooter had noticed him for a while; stood beside him, frigid darkness surrounding them both. Shooter had his eyes trained on the sky, the rather bright sky, at that.

Having lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere, Sheriff remembers seeing the night sky, full of stars. But that was nothing like it was now.

You could see whole galaxies, almost a touch away. It was breathtaking.

But not as breathtaking as Shooter.

Sheriff thought, staring not at the sky, but the man observing it. His dark black hair almost perfectly melding with the inkiness above, endlessly sweeping the dark horizon and disappearing far beyond it. His bright yellow eyes pierce the black like a supernova. So radiant, that Sheriff swears he can see the creation of new stars inside them.

Aside from his appearance, Sheriff always took a liking to Shooter’s accent. A calming, gentle southern drawl. The kind that drifts through one ear, lingers in your mind, then drifts out the other. Leaving Sheriff only to sigh with comfort, wishing he could hear it again.

He shivers, a cold breeze piercing through the thin fabric of his jumpsuit. Shooter had the sleight of mind to put on a hoodie before coming outside. Something Sheriff now wishes he decided to do before hastily following after him.

He takes a step closer to Shooter, feeling the warmth radiating off him and longing to lean into it. If he had any nerve, maybe he would. But he always seemed to lose his otherwise cocky attitude around Shooter.

Something about the man made his insides go soft, brain turn to mush, and legs become jelly. He was lucky to be so good at hiding it. Or at least by some miracle, everyone was oblivious to it; as they all still had the notion that he was into Vegan-Su.

Vegan was pretty, sure, but he quickly realized she was not his type at all.

Sheriff shivers again, wrapping his arms around his torso, teeth chattering. “You cold Sheriff?” Shooter asks, eyes still trained on the sky.

“Ha,” Sheriff laughs, “What do you think?”

Shooter shrugs, “I think you should go grab a jacket before you freeze your ass off.”

“I’m not gonna ‘freeze my ass off,’ I’m fine!” He pulls his arms in tighter. “It’s not that cold anyways.”

“Well, you’re the one freezing I guess.”

Sheriff rolls his eyes, “Rude much.”

“What’d you expect? I’d give up my hoodie for you?” Shooter scoffs, “Hell no! It’s colder than a brass toilet seat on the shady side of an iceberg!”

Sheriff can’t help but burst into laughter. God, his sayings are endearing…

“Anyways,” Shooter starts off as Sheriff wipes tears of laughter from his eyes, “Why’d you follow me out here?”

“Why’d you come out here?”

Shooter shrugs, “I like lookin’ at the stars.”

“Let me guess, you were one of those kids who always wanted to be an astronaut?” Sheriff snickers.

“No…” Shooter hesitates, “Maybe….”

“I KNEW IT!”

“Listen it was only for a little while—“ “Shitshot’s a space nerd! You really learn something new every day!” Sheriff cackles.

Shooter rolls his eyes, red crawling up his neck and face, to the tips of his ears. Another thing Sheriff found endearing about him, was how red he got when embarrassed.

“Alright well,” Shooter turns away from Sheriff, “If you came out here to make a fool of me ya did your job.” He chuckles.

“No I just…” Sheriff struggles to think of a proper excuse as to why he followed Shooter up to the roof in the first place. “I just wanted to hang out with you.”

Shooter nods, falling for Sheriff’s half-lie, and turning to face him again. “In that case y’should really get a jacket, it’s cold.”

“Like I said, I’m fine. It isn’t that cold.” He shivers, watching his breath float away before him.

“ ‘it ain’t that cold’ he says while shiverin’ like it’s fucking Antarctica.” Shooter chuckles, “I might take pity on you just this once.”

Sheriff scoffs, “Don’t bother, I can handle a little cold.”

“Really? You’ve been slowly inchin’ closer to me ever since ya got out here.”

Sheriff turns bright red, shit I thought he wouldn’t notice?? Shooter laughs at his very obvious reaction, “I don’t mind, it’s cold after all.” He holds his arm out to the side, offering Sheriff to come closer.

Sheriff stares at him for a moment, “You really don’t mind?”

“Awh, hush up and get over here.” He smirks, “Less you’d rather freeze.”

A giddy smile overtakes Sheriff, he leans into Shooter’s side, allowing warmth to flow through him. Shooter puts his arm around Sheriff, pulling him in a little closer.

He must be cold too, Sheriff thought. But he didn’t care, this was something he had wanted for far too long.

End

I did it guys, I wrote the SheriffxShooter fluff we all needed :3 (Also Shooter 100% had an obsession with space at some point, all gamer boys do XP)

[inoankin]

@jailbreaxis it's not a lot but i've been enjoying First Bite sooo so much and i don't have time to do a full piece right now. so i did a little sketch :) this is kind of a darker version of dreki's original drawing, which was. definitely intentional. i'm smart like that.

don't worry about vincent. these guys are really fucked up. good luck on chapter 5 <33

[aguyinthepubliceye]

AND IF I SAID NEW FIC TOMORROW THEN WHAT

[imogenlefay]

Chapters: 5/25 Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe Characters: Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe Additional Tags: Christmas Compilation, The Great Seblaine Christmas Extravaganza, Fluff and Sweetness, Occasional hurt/comfort, probably, But mostly fluff Summary:

A collection of Christmas-themed oneshots about Seblaine.

[bphantom01]

*Drops Blue Cat as a cat drawing and leaves*