#The small stem I'm going to attempt

[fluffyapathybunny]

Johnny has been snipped and ready for spring to come

[struggling-to-find-home]

I wonder what my first meetup with my groupmates will go

I can imagine the "Oh hi how did your summer go?" (Considering I almost always end up in some weird shenanigans)

"Well yeah remember the person you said bye to in June? Congrats she's dead. Yeah I decided it would be a good idea to work on some deep rooted shit and the process rendered me unrecognisable again. This happened twice before during our knowing of each other but the previous two times I just became gayer and more extra, and now I suddenly got rid of my will to live, instead".

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett

typically saturdays are for relaxation... not treating car crash victims.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

The longer you lived in the mansion, the quicker you realized you'd never get a true day to yourself again.

You tied up your hair with a heavy sigh, the click of your heels loud against the steady beep of the man's EKG.

Calmly, you glanced at the monitor, soft eyes combing over his QRS complex in an attempt to double check for any abnormalities.

His mutation was one you had never seen before, and you wanted to make sure it didn't affect the efficacy of your data.

Despite being a victim of a nasty car accident, his heartbeat, along with his many other vitals, were ones of a person with a perfect bill of health.

'A healing ability along with his claws?'

Looking up, you held your hand out to the small philodendron across the room, using your power to grow one of its stems and reach toward the table, grabbing the parts for a syringe and bringing it to you.

"Thank you, Phil," you hummed, carefully returning him to his pot.

What would really back up your hunch would be a blood sample...

Expertly, you assembled the injector, doing so with perfect ease as if you'd done it a hundred times before—which you had.

Once it was done, you gently slid your hand under his arm, turning it over to reveal the veins near the crease of his elbow.

You held the needle at the ready, just inches away from pricking his skin, before thoughtlessly glancing up at his face.

For about the sixtieth time in the hour.

'Damn...'

He was absolutely, positively gorgeous—the handsomest man you had ever seen.

Rugged, hunky features with sexy facial hair to match, paired with thick arms, delicious pectorals, and abs carved out of stone.

'You've had a chance to gawk... now back to business.'

Clearing your throat, you quickly shook yourself out of it, refocusing on the task at hand and pressing the needle against his skin.

Big mistake.

In an instant, he was awake and jumping off the table, the shock forcing you to drop the needle as he grabbed you, slinging his arm around your neck.

Eyes wide, you quickly reached out to Phil, the small plant quickly growing humongous right before your eyes.

The mystery man stared at it, brows furrowed in confusion, until one of its newly acquired vines shot straight for his head, forcing him to let go of you and dive out of the way.

Gasping for air, you thankfully clutched your throat, attempting to catch your breath as Phil's limbs chased the man out into the hall.

'The professor'll stop him from hurting anyone upstairs... hopefully Phil can grab him before then...'

Slowly starting to recover, you grasped the table's edge, using it to hoist yourself back up on your feet, grumbling to yourself about how rough he was.

Suddenly, the vines began to recede, one of them resting on your shoulder and blooming a flower.

"He made it to the elevator?" you parroted, turning to the plant and catching the blossom as it gracefully fell into your palm, reporting the new development.

You let out a knowing sigh, already able to foresee the scolding you were about to receive from the team's leader.

"Scott's gonna kill me..." 

Why did shit like this always happen to him?

It was beginning to become routine for Logan to wake up in unknown places, with people he's never seen before, yet people who seemed to know everything about him.

"I'm Charles Xavier. Would you like some breakfast?" the old man in the wheelchair asked, cool as a cucumber despite the strange man standing in his office.

"Where am I?" Logan asked, brows furrowed and eyes flicking around the room in an attempt to find some sort of clue.

"Westchester, New York," Xavier answered, wheeling out from behind his desk. "You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention."

"I don't need medical attention."

The old man made a small smile, "Yes, of course."

He seemed to have an answer for everything...

Suddenly, the memory of a little stowaway popped into Logan's head, reminding him of the precarious situation she was in.

"Where's the girl?" he asked again, still looking around.

"Rogue? She's here. She's fine."

"Really?"

Just then, the door opened, a woman with stark white hair strutting in with a man—who had the weirdest sunglasses in the world—at her side.

"Ah, Logan, I'd like you to meet Ororo Monroe, also called Storm," Xavier introduced, Ororo greeting him with a soft hello, "Along with Scott Summers, also called Cyclops."

Scott held out his hand to shake, but was met with a suspicious glare that held little to no warmth at all.

"They saved your life."

That is... until you came walking in after.

"And I believe you've already met Dr. (y/n) (l/n)."

His eyes flicked to yours, and there he saw the most beautiful woman he had seen in a long time—and trust, he had seen plenty.

The way your curls framed your face...

The way your clothes accentuated your figure...

The way your skin seemed to glow, despite being indoors...

You looked like you stepped out the pages of a beauty magazine, or the screen of a blockbuster movie.

'Damn...'

He wasn't one to stare, but you made it hard not to.

"You're in my school for the gifted. For mutants," Xavier continued, stealing away his attention. "You'll be safe away from Magneto."

"What's a Magneto?"

"A very powerful mutant who believes that a war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity. I've been following his activities for some time. The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabretooth."

"Sabretooth?" Logan raised a brow, amused.

The professor nodded, and Logan quickly turned to Ororo, pointing, "Storm," he clicked his tongue.

He faced Xavier again, donning what seemed like a rarely occurring smile.

"What do they call you? Wheels?" 

Letting out a dry laugh, he started toward the door, done with the conversation.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

But Scott didn't move out of his way, instead standing firm in his place.

"Cyclops, right?" Logan grabbed him by the shirt, roughly. "You wanna get out of my way?"

"Logan, it's been almost fifteen years, hasn't it?" Xavier stopped him. "Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are."

Logan whipped around, facing the professor with a sharp glare, "Shut up."

"Give me a chance... I may be able to help you find some answers."

"How do you know?"

On cue, Xavier's voice began to echo in his mind, whispering words that didn't seem to come out of his mouth.

'The hell...'

"What is this place?"

By the professor's powers of persuasion, he managed to calm Logan down, filling him in on everything about Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and convincing him to compromise long enough for you to finish your tests.

Which was why he was now back on your work bench, staring up at you intensely as you removed the small, plastic patches from his skin.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, seemingly out of nowhere—but he honestly felt guilty for nearly strangling you to death.

You knew that... but you wanted to hear him say it.

"Sorry for what?" you asked, innocently, as you plucked off the last few.

"If I hurt you," he clarified, pointing to your neck.

Pleased, you gave him a warm nod, flashing a small smile before turning and starting up the MRI.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all...

"So... you couldn't wait to get my shirt off again, huh?"

'Never mind.'

You glanced back at him, letting out a soft scoff at his gall before pressing the button and sending him sliding into chamber, abruptly.

Once he was fully in, you headed over to the viewing room next door, where the others waited for you to explain what they were seeing.

"The metal is an alloy called adamantium. Supposedly indestructible," you started, looking at the X-rays of his skeleton. "It's been surgically grafted to his entire skeleton."

"How could he have survived a procedure like that?" Ororo asked, concerned.

"His mutation," you answered. "He has uncharted regenerative capability, which enables him to heal rapidly."

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"This also makes his age impossible to determine. He could very well be older than you, Professor."

"Who did this to him?" Scott asked.

"He doesn't know, nor does he remember anything about his life before it happened."

"Experimentation on mutants," Xavier sighed, thoughtfully. "It's not unheard of... but I've never seen anything like this before."

"What do you think Magneto wants with him?" you asked, worried.

A face off with him would spell doom for Logan.

He could very well just rip the metal bones right out of him, form a skewer, and impale him with his own skeleton.

'Gross...'

The thought made your stomach churn.

"I'm not entirely sure it's him Magneto wants..."

[heian-era-housewife]

Synopsis | In which the JJK men receive flowers.

Content | gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader, toji x reader, reader is implied (but not necessarily) fem, toji's is ever so slightly suggestive, fluff ♡

Word Count | ~1.4k

A/N: The banner quote is not a proven statistic, but a marketing strategy once employed by Interflora based on a customer study. It was later developed into a social media/influencer campaign which included renaming their flowers with more "masculine" sounding names to increase Father's Day flower sales and scare partners everywhere into purchasing unnecessarily gendered plants. The more you know.

Gojo

Blue ain't your color

What started as a simple trip to the supermarket has turned into two greenhouses, three floral shops, five phone calls (one of which kept you on hold for twenty minutes!) and now you're on your third day of searching for the perfect flowers with which to surprise your boyfriend.

You're not a botanist. How were you to know that naturally occurring blue flowers were the rarest sort? All you wanted was a little arrangment to match the hue of Gojo's crystal eyes, now here you were getting laughed at from your latest failed internet lead for not knowing hydrangeas have a season...and this is not it. Not wanting to go home empty-handed, you settle for a box of sweets with a bright blue ribbon and make your way back for his return from his latest mission.

Later that day while checking the time, you pause to admire the lock screen on your phone. It's a picture of Satoru, goofy smile plastered across his face, arms spread wide with flat palms facing outward, knees high as he runs with full abandon through a field of...

"Daisies! For me??" His voice nearly cracks as he takes the wild bundle in his hands, a vibrant blue ribbon holding them neatly together.

"Mhm! And there's some chocolate too!" You add, gesturing to a now plain white box on the kitchen table.

"You didn't have to do that!" He practically squeals, unable to hide his childlike excitement.

"I wanted to. Besides," you smile coyly at the daisies you picked mere moments ago. "They reminded me of you!"

Geto

World's greatest mom

It was the morning of Mother's Day. You, yourself, were very much not a mother. And yet, here you stood, one little girl perched on each hip as you held them close in a desperate attempt to quiet their teary sobs outside your local flower shop.

"I'm sorry girls," you cooed, bouncing them as you spoke. "It looks like everyone's sold out."

Earlier that morning you were awoken by two eager faces as Nanako and Mimiko had snuck into Geto's bedroom, where you had spent the night, to tell you their grand idea.

"Today's Mother's Day," Mimiko whispered shyly to you as she tugged gently on the sheets.

"We want to get Geto carnations!" Nanako continued boldly, spokesperson of the pair. "Because he's the best mom ever!"

If sweetness could kill, you'd be a goner. Your heart was threatening to burst as it was. How could you possibly say no?

Together, the three of you snuck out of the house and headed to find some Mother's Day carnations for "Mr. Mom" himself. But, as many a woeful partner has learned, the morning of Mother's Day is the worst time to find flowers. So, here you stood, empty-handed, a sad little girl on each hip.

What would Suguru do? You thought to yourself. He never missed an opportunity to make the girls happy, always finding creative ways to put smiles on their faces, truly earning the title, "Best Mom Ever". Strengthening your resolve, it was your turn to tell the girls your grand idea.

~~~

Suguru woke to the sound of giggles and crinkling paper. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he blinked several times before registering the sight in front of him.

"Happy Mother's Day!" the three of you said in unison, holding out a bouquet of homemade flowers to the now very confused sorcerer.

"What's all this?" He said looking at the small puffs of pink tissue paper and their green pipe-cleaner stems.

"We wanted to get you flowers...but they were all sold out," Mimiko muttered apologetically.

"So we made some instead!" Finished a bright-eyed Nanako.

"I love them!" He beamed, pretending to sniff the crinkled paper blossoms. "But...why?"

"Tell him, girls!" You said, stifling a laugh.

"Because you're the Best Mom Ever!"

Nanami

Forget-me-not

Dinner was ready, the table was set, and your husband , Kento, would be home any time now. The final piece to your romantic evening surprise was the floral arrangement you ordered specifically with him in mind. Heaving the large display to the table's center, you step back to admire your work. The flowers were a nice touch, inspired by a chilling post you'd seen on the internet- one you couldn't get out of your head.

As Kento stepped through the door, his eyes settled on the large arrangement of pure white lilies threatening to swallow up your little dining table for two.

"What's all this?"

"I wanted to surprise you!"

"Well it worked," he said with a smile, pulling you in for a hug. "One question, though. Why all the flowers?"

"I saw something online that said most men don't get flowers until their funeral!" You exclaim.

"Hmm..." He nods as he inspects the elegant bundle. "And were you anticipating mine? My funeral, that is?"

"Why would you say such a thing?" You ask, puzzled by his uncharacteristically callous joke.

"'With deepest sympathy,'" he reads aloud, pulling a small folded card from the center of the bouquet.

"WHAT?!" You shriek, yanking the card from his hand. You hadn't even seen it nestled behind the large white blossoms. "But why would-?!"

"You know white lilies are typically a funerary flower, right?" He states in his kind, but matter-of-fact tone.

"But I was sure I-" whipping out your phone you look back on your order realizing all too late that the arrangement you'd chosen from their "best selling" tab had the words "in memorium" just below the listing price. A small groan escapes your throat and then-

"HAH!" Kento's laughter startles you as he doubles over in a rare fit of humor.

"Well I'm glad YOU find this funny," you pout accusingly, feeling your romantic night had fallen to ruin.

"I'm just glad I get to enjoy them WITH you. But, I suppose if things had gone sideways at work today, you would've been prepared either way!"

"NOT funny, Kento!" You snap, one corner of your mouth twitching in contradiction.

"I know, I know," he says, pulling you in for another hug. "I love them. And I certainly won't forget them!" He comforts you.

"Well," you give in with a small chuckle. "They are in memorium."

Toji

Just a little prickly

"Toji," you humphed. "How come you've never given me flowers?"

"You've never given me flowers."

"That's different!"

"How?" He challenged. "Thought you were all about 'equality' or some shit?"

"It's not like you'd even appreciate them!" You objected. "Besides, you couldn't even keep a cactus alive."

"Wanna bet?"

"As a matter of fact I do!"

~~~

A few days later, after stopping by the plant section of a hardware store on your way home, you returned with scrubbiest most pathetic-looking little ball of spikes you could find.

"Oh Tojiiii~" You called out.

"The hell is that?" He said eyeing the ugly little plant.

"It's your new cactus!" You gushed, eyes twinkling with playful malice.

"You really are something else," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he accepted your spiteful gift.

~~~

Weeks passed. Months even. You'd forgotten all about the cactus, having long presumed it dead when one day Toji interrupted your would-be peaceful breakfast with a laugh bordering the maniacle.

"HAH!" He jeered pointing a finger directly in your face. "You wanted flowers?? Get a load of these!" 

From behind his back he plunked a ceramic pot onto the kitchen table, one you'd never seen. In it was the most beautiful little barrel cactus, golden spikes reflecting the morning light. Atop its crest was a perfect halo of brilliant pink flowers. It was nothing short of lovely and you wondered where he got it.

"Wh-where did this come from?" You asked, taken aback.

"What do you mean where??" He grumped. "It's that shitty cactus you gave me. What, don't recognize it?" He teased.

"No it's not. This thing is huge. And it's in an entirely different pot."

"Uh. Yeah. It grew, genius. I had to change its pot like three times."

You stared in utter disbelief. You had no idea he had kept it- no idea he even cared. It was honestly kind of...hot.

"Looks like you just lost a bet. Time to pay up, sweetheart." He boasted.

"Too bad we never decided on a wager." 

"Don't worry," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the bedroom. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

[somepsychopomp]

A Fair Contest

So a little bit ago I drafted an idea for an AU where, instead of the golden apple saying 'to the fairest' it says 'to the most amorous king'

And instead of the ladies fighting over the apple, it's Zeus & Poseidon. In order to determine who exactly is the superior lover (and king + who gets bragging rights), the two brothers select one (un)fortunate mortal that both of them shall take to bed...

and the judge they select for their little contest is none other than Odysseus.

(Takes place pre-Trojan War. In fact there's basically no Trojan War to begin with. Also Odysseus is betrothed but not yet married to Penelope)

Consider this chapter 1 of this fic. I really hope I can finish it because I stayed up to almost 4 am writing this, which is amazing because I've been dealing with a major cold and writers block for a while now

Word Count: approx. 4400

There's no smut yet but I do confess to giving Ody a bubble butt. Also in a world where Ruthlessness never happened/is yet to happen... Poseidon has a thing for strong thighs & is absolutely smitten with Odysseus

Also in my head, I'm imagining Neal's character designs but I think I've kept it vague enough for now that you can imagine whatever designs you like

+++

The wedding had been a most splendid sight, with revelry among both men and gods. The small mortal king, Peleus, was of course honored to host such a wide variety of the gods and have them witness his union with the divine Thetis. Zeus gave the couple his own blessing and permitted Dionysus to pour out his strongest wine for the occasion. 

Well into the night, the attendees danced to a tireless band and feasted upon the finest foods available. Gods mingled with mortals, some sneaking off with a young maiden or cupbearer for some more illicit fun. 

All was going well until the first beam of daylight shone upon a pedestal that no guest noticed before, where a golden apple awaited. 

Curious onlookers clustered around it, wondering where it could have come from. The mortals believed the apple to be made of real gold, thinking it was a lavish wedding gift. The gods were equally mystified, knowing that something so perfect and beautiful could only be given by one of their own. Hera pursed her lips at the sight of it. 

The king of the gods made his way to the center of the crowd, the other guests parting for him with their eyes averted in deference. He regarded the apple with mild curiosity, having a treasury greater than all of Greece’s wealth upon Olympus. A ribbon was tied neatly to the apple’s stem with a message embroidered upon it. 

“To the most amorous king.”

Zeus chuckled at the oddity of this little present and moved to take the apple. 

Only for another hand to grab it at the very same moment. 

The two gods stared at each other. 

“What do you think you’re doing, dear brother?” Zeus asked, the smile falling from his face. 

Poseidon rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Taking my prize.”

“You?” Zeus said, his voice dripping with outrage, “You dare defy your king like this?”

Poseidon’s voice turned sharp and cold. “I am lord of the seas! The gift doesn’t say ‘to the king of the skies’, now does it? No, you read it yourself.”

The mortal guests, including King Peleus, began to make their quick exit from the venue. Some of the lesser gods were also making their sneaky escape, fearing the worst was about to come. 

Hera approached her husband and wrapped her arms around his own, “Darling, it’s just an apple. If you want one, I’ve got a whole orchard full.”

It was true that Gaea, the very earth itself, gave Hera a grove of enchanted apple trees as her wedding gift. The trees were immune to all illnesses and sprouted fruit of pure gold all year round. In all likelihood, this very apple was stolen from the Queen’s orchard.

The god-king’s most favorite child appeared at his other side in an attempt to soothe his growing rage, “Father, listen to Queen Hera. This is a trick meant to sew discord, nothing more.”

Zeus ignored his daughter Athena as if she weren’t there. 

“Let it go, my love.” Hera said, “After all, why have one apple when you could have hundreds?”

Zeus gave her a sharp look, his golden eyes burning with a harsh, radiant glow. The queen of the gods was so taken aback that she shrunk away under the weight of his glare. Zeus said, “I am the god of judgement! No matter how trivial of a token it is, I will not let my brother take what does not rightfully belong to him!” 

Poseidon threw his head back and laughed, not one to be daunted, “Oh, is that so? And how will you prove that it doesn’t belong to me, hm?”

He tossed the golden apple into the air, catching it in his other hand. Zeus bared his teeth and snatched Poseidon’s wrist, unwilling to let elder brother even hold the thing. 

It was now apparent to all the remaining gods what this was really about. 

Neither king would secede when their pride and egos were in jeopardy. For either of them, letting the other take the apple now, after they’ve already started bickering, would mean admitting they were the more feeble lord, a less competent lover. And such a slight against their reputations would never stand. 

“Ahem,” a voice said. 

A lovely woman with flawless bare skin for all the world to admire, a translucent shawl draped around her arms and roses in her pale tresses, stepped forward. 

Zeus barely spared her a glance. “What is it, Aphrodite?”

She smiled, though not without a hint of mischief in her eyes, “I think I have the solution to this little conflict of ours, one that will minimize any substantial damage to our family… or the known world.”

Zeus inclined his head in interest. Poseidon gave the goddess his ear, as well. Zeus let go of his brother and the sea god set the apple down. 

Athena bit her lower lip, knowing that Aphrodite’s schemes were almost never more than just that: schemes. Games to amuse herself with. She had something else in mind. 

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A large, circular mirror gilded in silver and gold appeared in the air behind her. The surface rippled the same way a pond did when met with rainfall. 

A beautiful young maiden with a long braid of black hair tended to her garden. The image rippled and was replaced with what was clearly a princess being dressed for the day by her servants. Again, the image shifted and showed a handsome young man in a short chiton as he shepherded his flock of sheep. 

Aphrodite said, “Now, I’m sure you two could spend eternity bickering back and forth, boasting of your skills and past conquests, but as the goddess of love myself… why not have more of a practical examination?”

The two brothers exchanged a look, coming to the same conclusion. 

“You want us to share a lover?” Poseidon asked. 

Zeus added, “And have them decide?”

Aphrodite winked and gave them a cheerful smile. “Well, what do you say? There’s no shortage of pretty boys or girls across the land. Come, take your pick!”

Zeus stroked his beard, a few sparks crackling across his fingertips. Poseidon crossed his arms in contemplation. 

“Father, Uncle!” Athena said, trying to catch their attention, “This is madness, can you not see?”

But neither god answered her. Athena was in disbelief. 

All this over a golden apple that neither needed or really wanted. This was all about their reputations as accomplished lovers, which they shouldn’t even have considering they were both married men. 

And Aphrodite, it was clear she was only doing this to make a story out of it, the way she and her son Eros loved to couple mortals together, only to break them apart. No doubt some terrible fate will befall the chosen victim, no matter who they named the superior lover. 

In Athena’s mind, she could only imagine the loser of this game casting some bitter curse upon the poor mortal as revenge. But that was the fun of it for some gods, to see the doomed fate of some poor soul after getting mixed up with the divine. 

Behind Zeus’ back, Hera threw her hands into the air before storming off, summoning her chariot pulled by winged horses to return her to Olympus. 

Athena threw a disappointed look at Aphrodite before leaving as well, deciding to go where her counsel would be appreciated. 

+++

By mid-morning, Odysseus’ back and brow were already covered in sweat as he endeavored to finish the roof over his wedding bed before an unfortunate rain could sully his hard work below. 

The house he was raised in was perfectly fine, but with all the servants and guards on top of his family, it was not the largest of castles. It was also an old thing in constant need of repairs. Odysseus always envisioned a proper palace atop Ithaca’s mountains, one where his own family could grow large and have plenty of space to themselves. 

So, before the eve of his wedding, he endeavored to complete the house of his dreams for his new wife to enjoy. He started with their olive tree, a living symbol of his devotion to his betrothed. Odysseus labored day and night to carve part of it into one of the four posts for his wedding bed, taking extreme caution to not cut away so much that the tree would die. 

The largest bough of the olive tree would overlook one of their windows, with a perfect view of the vast ocean beyond it. Odysseus already carved the other three bed posts and constructed the frame, but there was always more work to do. As the common larborers constructed the foundation and walls for the other rooms in the palace, Odysseus went to work constructing the roof for his bedroom. 

With a sizable living tree in such close proximity to his quarters, he trusted no one but himself to complete the project without damaging it. 

Taking up hammer and nails, hauling wood and stone, and fitting everything into place almost entirely on his own was unusual for a king. Odysseus knew this, but the labor brought him joy like no other. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, imagining opening the door for the very first time as a married man. He would carry Penelope to their wedding bed, built entirely by his hand, and spend the rest of his life with her. 

Focus, he told himself. 

For now, Penelope still dwelled in her natal homeland of Sparta. As soon as her new home was completed, she would set sail for Ithaca.  

Odysseus wiped the sweat from his brow as the sun beat its rays upon his back. Maybe it was foolish to fear the coming rainfall, but he could see the grayish clouds on the horizon.

By midday, he was hopeful he could have the roof finished by nightfall. As Odysseus dropped from one of the wooden rafters into his nearly-complete bedroom, his tunic must have caught on a nail or perhaps a large splinter. He heard the sharp tearing of fabric and grumbled at the gash across his front. One of the room’s alcoves had some of his clothes, since he didn’t have time yet to build the chests or wardrobe. 

Thinking better of a tunic, Odysseus merely replaced it with a rectangular length of cloth fastened at the waist. It was something his mother wove, a lovely shade of blue to match the sea, embroidered with red and white thread. 

From somewhere nearby, he heard the familiar clicking of an owl’s beak coming to greet him. He smiled and turned around, draping his tunic over his arm as his mentor approached him in the form of a brown and white speckled owl. She sank her talons into his arm and flapped her wings as if in outrage. 

He let her perch on the alcove’s lip as he fasted a leather pauldron to his left shoulder. She hopped back on and Odysseus could feel her talons clench and unclench even through the tough leather. 

“What troubles you, Athena?” Odysseus asked. 

He set out through the bedroom’s heavy oak doors, finding himself in a long hallway that was finished, but not yet furnished or cleaned. 

She spoke into his mind, Sometimes, I wish I could belong to any other family but my own. 

Odysseus chuckled. “I’m sorry to hear.”

While he loved his parents and sister dearly, he knew that Athena often butted heads with her siblings and uncle. 

Odysseus counted the windows that still needed shutters and curtains, along with the patches in the roof that had yet to be filled in. Farther along, the great hall where they would entertain guests was still only a skeleton. Only half of the supporting beams and columns were installed and the whole place reeked of sweating men. 

Athena paid the laborers no mind as the citizens of Ithaca bowed for their king as he walked by. 

You know I’m not one for gossip, but I fear something terrible is about to strike the land. 

“Is that so?” Odysseus asked, his smile dropping. 

Yes, a terrible tragedy yet to come in the form of my Uncle Poseidon and my father. 

A servant approached Odysseus with a serving platter. He took a cup of water and drank deeply, and snatched a small bowl of olives before going on his way. 

“They’re angry with us?” Odysseus asked, fearing what this might mean for his people.

No, Athena said, accepting an olive and biting into the tender flesh with her sharp beak, Not quite, but their egos are yet again showing themselves. If you find unusual weather patterns in the next few days, pay them no mind. 

“Ah, I see.”

In truth, he didn’t understand Athena at all. But she seemed in the mood to vent about her personal feelings and seeing as she didn’t do so often, Odysseus was careful to listen. 

Athena clacked her beak in irritation. Odysseus bit into his own olive as he felt a sharp nibble on his ear before she started combing through his damp hair. She must’ve found something in his hair, a bit of dust or a wood chip, because he could feel her tugging at him. 

How goes construction on the new palace?

“Every day, I can see the way it’s growing.”

Odysseus passed by a group of men sitting in a loose circle, taking swigs from a water skin as they fanned themselves. One caught sight of Odysseus and they all scrambled to their feet. 

Odysseus held out a hand to put them at ease, “Catch your breath if you must. A tired man is more prone to making mistakes, and I will not have any in my new house.”

The men all sighed in relief and went back to their break, waving goodbye as he continued onward. Athena cooed to show her approval in his decision. He thought her mood was improving, but not a moment later, she said, I just can’t believe them sometimes. 

“Oh?”

Odysseus thought Athena said her piece already. She clicked his beak right in his ear. 

You would think that the god of law and order would have some sense in his head. But no! Apparently my mother Metis still possesses it. If only Father would listen to her, if not me.

Odysseus said nothing, having never heard Athena speak like this before, especially about her father. He thought it best to remain silent; perhaps Athena could complain about Zeus without punishment, but he knew far better. 

Athena clicked her beak with a different sense of urgency and Odysseus gave her another olive. She held it in one foot while balancing on the other, dropping the pit when she was finished devouring the flesh. 

“You seem awfully worked up,” Odysseus said, “Anything I can do to lift your burdens?”

Athena shook her head. No, I’m afraid this is something that no one man can solve, as frustrating as it might sound. 

He crossed the central courtyard and approached the war room, one of the few nearly-complete parts of the palace, where his chief architects and advisors were waiting to update him on their progress. 

Though Odysseus was primarily trained in the art of war, he was also well-versed in song and poetry, history, oratory, and arithmetic, all courtesy of Athena. He wasn’t an expert in architecture yet, but he had his own hand in designing the layout of the palace. 

“Good day, my friends.” Odysseus said, parting the curtains that served as a makeshift door until the palace was fitted with proper ones. 

One of his elder advisors squinted at Athena upon his shoulder. “My liege?”

Before they could go over any potential issues in the construction or their budgetary concerns, Odysseus wandered over to the window and let Athena take off. She disappeared through the trees, though he knew he’d see her again soon.

+++

Despite the fact the sun was about to set and the two godly kings had been bickering all day long, Aphrodite hadn’t lost her patience yet. In fact, she was even reveling in her task at hand. 

They moved their business to her abode on Olympus, where her many mirrors were put to good use. Zeus and Poseidon scoured the lands for a suitable judge to measure their sexual prowess, each of them interested in different aspects of what made up a potential lover. 

Zeus was pleased with just about any pretty face that breathed, but Poseidon was a bit pickier with appearances. He didn’t want his maidens or young men to be too skinny, and he seemed to have a preference for those with strong legs. Aphrodite could certainly work within those bounds. 

At the same time, Poseidon was more open to sharing a lover with some previous sexual experience, thinking it’d make the whole process easier. Zeus wrinkled his nose at the idea and insisted he wanted someone “new”, not wanting to muck about after some vastly lesser mortal man had his way with their chosen judge. 

Aphrodite agreed that was a good point, so instead of letting the two kings squabble, she put her talents as a matchmaker to good use. After a brief consultation, she put together a list of minimum requirements that satisfied both gods. 

One, their shared lover had to be attractive, preferably with appealing legs. 

Two, they had to be virginal. 

Three, they all agreed that the mortal should come from high standards, so some form of royalty. They could be a princess or a prince, or even someone lesser than that, but anyone of a noble bloodline would be preferable to a random maiden. Of course, both kings had their fair share of peasant-girl chasing, but for such an important competition, Aphrodite understood their concerns well. 

And lastly, the judge should be someone intelligent. Someone who wouldn’t buckle under the pressure of their assigned task and would be able to use not just their body, but logic to determine the true and indisputable winner. 

No doubt each god had their plans to bribe the judge, but who wouldn’t?

If it was Aphrodite competing for the apple, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out a few tricks of her own. An idiot might be easy to bribe, but that also meant they’d be easy for the competition to bribe as well. To each of the male gods, an intelligent lover would certainly be able to recognize a superior bribe.

“Sadly, your stipulations exclude Helen of Sparta,” Aphrodite said, waving away the image of Helen in her largest mirror, “She’s had children by now, though she’s still quite lovely.”

Poseidon made a noncommittal sound, as if he might reconsider, but Zeus urged Aphrodite to move onto the next candidate with a flick of his wrist. The two of them sat before her best mirror, looking almost comical in her rose-colored, dove-ingrained armchairs. 

They went through a few more potential candidates, including Penelope of Sparta and Ctimene of Ithaca. Neither god was very impressed by her choices, but just as Aphrodite was about to move onto the next candidate, Poseidon held out a hand. 

“Wait a moment,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “Who is that in the back?”

“Oh?” Aphrodite asked. She returned to the image of Ctimene. She was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, her veil fluttering in her wake as her handmaidens walked with her. They seemed to be exiting some great ruin, but on closer inspection, the gods could see men at work. They were building a great palace, it seemed. 

Well, great by the standards of mortals. 

Behind Ctimene, a bare-chested young man held out a hand and seemed to be directing a group of others. Aphrodite’s mirror rippled and showed them the young man in greater detail, leaving young Ctimene out entirely. 

“Oh,” Zeus said. 

Aphrodite concealed her eager smile, more thrilled than ever at this sudden twist. She examined the young man’s features, including the sharp angles of his nose, his dense locks of dark brown hair, and his high cheekbones. He bore a striking resemblance to Ctimene. As the goddess of love, there were a few other details Aphrodite could parse out just by looking at him, but she would conceal her thoughts for now. 

She said, “Why, that would be none other than King Odysseus of Ithaca!” 

Though the young ruler was about the same height as his sister, he was no slight-of-frame weakling. His broad shoulders complimented his strong chest and arms, certainly the build of a warrior. His stomach was a flat plain and below his garments, well muscled thighs teased them almost playfully. 

A pale scar ran along the inside of one of his thighs, but it only added to his character. Though Poseidon maintained his interest, Zeus scoffed. 

“King, you say?” Zeus nudged his brother, “You know what that means.”

Poseidon was still appraising Odysseus’ thighs, “Plenty of whores in and out of his bed?”

“Actually!” Aphrodite said, clapping her hands, “You’ll be beyond pleased to know that young Odysseus here… is virginal.”

Now that had both gods’ attention. The King of the Gods seemed incredulous.

“How old is he?” Zeus asked. 

“Twenty years, my dearest king.”

“And he’s still a virgin?” Poseidon asked, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. “Why? Is he stupid?”

Aphrodite giggled behind her hand, “He’s determined to save himself for marriage, like a maiden! But it can’t be helped. I do believe he’s Athena’s pupil, after all. And I’m sure she holds him to what she perceives as a high standard.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, “Whatever the case may be, he’s remained celibate thus far. Perfectly ripe and ready to be plucked, if you would.”

The gods of the sea and sky shared a look. 

Zeus said, “Show us more.”

Aphrodite was more than happy to do exactly that. She waved her hand and the stationary image of Odysseus began to move. There was no sound to accompany the vision, but all three of them remained silent as they watched Odysseus work. 

He carried multiple rucksacks full of supplies up the spiral staircases of his house while other laborers stopped to eat their dinner. He seemed more than intent to get somewhere, not stopping until he came across a large bedroom with the roof still letting in sunlight in a few patches. Interestingly, while the bed was large and well made, it lacked a mattress or rug thrown over the rungs. Perhaps that would come later. 

Odysseus hopped out the window, seemingly ignorant to the fact there was a steep drop right below him, as he grabbed hold of a tree bough and climbed into the roof. It looked like he was intent on using every last bit of sunlight to his advantage as he finished laying out the clay shingles. 

The sweat across his body glistened like stardust as the sky above him glowed with the most beautiful shades of red and gold. He put his strong body to use by covering the few bare patches of his rooftop, stopping only to retrieve a shallow clay bowl from his pack, filling it with oil and floating a wick on top before igniting his lamp to give him a bit more light. 

Zeus snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hermes was fluttering at his side. 

“Yes, Father?”

Without taking his eyes off of Odysseus, Zeus said, “Contact Helios. Tell him to wait a while longer before dusk arrives.”

Hermes spared Odysseus a brief glance before nodding and flying off. Though the mortal didn’t seem to notice, the sun did indeed stop setting. 

Odysseus set down his hammer to dab his sweat-soaked face with a rag. He was tiring now, but intent on finishing his job if the determined look in his eyes was any indication. 

Poseidon held up one hand and curled a finger toward himself. 

The hammer that Odysseus just set down began sliding toward the edge of the roof. 

“Brother…” Zeus warned. 

Poseidon said, “Trust me.”

Odysseus snatched the hammer before it could fall, but found himself quite close to the edge now. 

Poseidon cupped his hands around his mouth and blew softly. A wind coming off Ithaca’s coast kicked up, carrying the salty scent of the ocean with it. As Odysseus stood with his hammer, he raised his other hand to shield his eyes from the sudden gust of wind that ruffled his hair and clothing. 

Aphrodite’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing the game Poseidon was playing. She added her own flare as well, using just the slightest twirl of her finger to undo the belt holding young Odysseus’ garments in place. 

The poor young king seemed baffled by his sudden misfortune, moving swiftly to capture his garment before the wind could steal it away. Aphrodite froze the image without being told to do so, but she was quite proud of her timing. 

Odysseus stood in all his mortal splendor, revealing his tan skin scarred by past adventures. He was healthy, with the body of an athlete and his arm outstretched to better display the toned muscles under his skin.  

“What a surprise!” Aphrodite said with mirth, tracing her finger along the surface of the mirror, “Look at his little dimples!” 

Indeed, a twin set of dimples rested over his lower back, no longer concealed by his clothing. But that was not all. Some men were cursed to be rather flat in their rear, leaving them looking awkward or incomplete at times, but Aphrodite was equally pleased that Odysseus had something worth looking at below his dimples. In addition to the well-defined muscles in his shoulders and back, he sported the most grabbable bottom. 

If Odysseus was not doomed to be the plaything between kings, Aphrodite might have been tempted to take him for herself. 

She held out her hands as if Odysseus was nothing more than an exotic animal on display. Poseidon was leaning forward in his chair, his head tilted with interest. Zeus, too, seemed sold at last. His golden eyes sparkled more brightly than usual as he traced over the little king’s backside. He ran his tongue over his teeth. 

Aphrodite smiled, “So, my dears… what do you say? Is Odysseus of Ithaca to be your judge?”

...

Read an excerpt of Chapter 2 here!

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face Pt.3

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: You and Tara finally went out on a date and feelings are revealed.

word count: 2453

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.4

a/n: Hey all, I hope ya'll enjoyed this last part for this one-shot. I tried putting in more details so lmk your thoughts. I also made Sam a little laid back for this part since I honestly didn't know how to make her intimidating without ruining it lol. Anyways, I'm always open to feedback!! Thanks for all the love and support! (p.s. i got motivation for the flower scene from tasm where peter gave gwen her flowers hehehe so just imagine that because i still have no idea how to add a collage of pictures here)

Tara was walking back and forth the apartment while waiting for you to pick her up. She had suggested on going to yours instead but you insisted on picking her up for some reason. Sam was just observing her sister roaming around the living room, amused by her antics. She was picking her fingernails and fixing her hair every 15 seconds. It was 3.45 p.m and you were supposed to be here at least 15 minutes ago. Her mind was going through a ridiculous amount of scenarios as fast as the speed of light at this point. Did you suddenly decide to ditch her or realised that she wasn’t good enough for you? 

“Tara, relax. You’re freaking out so much- I can see your brain working overtime,” Sam simply stated, laying on the couch while rewatching Modern Family for the fifth time. Just as Tara wanted to give a snarky remark, she heard the doorbell rang. If she was wearing a heart rate monitor, she was sure it would give her a warning about her sudden heightened heart rate, assuming she was getting a heart attack. She looked at herself once again and fixed her hair after the 55th time before opening the door.

There you were. Looking all cute and flustered while holding a bouquet of flowers and a posy on one hand while balancing two motorcycle helmets on the other. While she appreciated and blushed and the gesture, she can’t seem the ignore the fact that the bouquet and posy is a little… lopsided.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. I went to buy this for you but it’s a little harder when you’re riding while holding it, which explains the snapped stem for one of them…Oh! And I bought a small one for Sam, if she doesn’t mind, of course.” You explained with a little blush from the awkwardness. “How embarrassing, this is your first date and you’ve already messed up. Nice one, Y/N.” You thought, mentally slapping yourself for forgetting that it’s nearly impossible to hold a bouquet of flowers while riding and not mess it up. While you were having your own crisis, Tara was in her own head too.

“Seriously? Is there even a flaw flowing in their bones? ” Tara pondered internally while struggling to put out actual words, holding onto both the bouquet and posy, when Sam came to rescue after hearing the painfully awkward one-sided conversation.

“Wow, nice job, Y/N. A liiitttle crushed, but I like the effort. You’re own my good side, for now. Just make sure you bring her home by 9..or I’ll hunt you down.” Sam stated sarcastically, enjoying how you squirmed after her statement. She’ll never tell you this, but she appreciated the gesture and the thought of buying her a small bouquet. The few people Tara had tried dating has never thought of that, so she really meant it when she said you’d “earned a point”. She was impressed surprisingly, and it was hard to impress THE Sam Carpenter.

“Y-Yes ma’am” You replied with faux confidence, even though both the sisters could tell you were intimidated, rightfully so. Tara rolled her eyes at her sister’s statement and dragged you out of the apartment, after placing her flowers nicely by the table beside the entrance, of course.

“I’m sorry about Sam, she can be a bit.. Much.”

“Don’t worry about it, I have to admit I almost peed my pants though.” You joked, trying to ease the tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Your attempt was successful when Tara giggled effortlessly, while staring at you with those big doe eyes.

-

The engine roared beneath them, vibrating through Tara’s body as she clung to Y/N’s back. The cool evening air brushed against her face, the city lights streaking by in a blur. The smell of gasoline and fresh rain mixed with the earthy scent of Y/N’s jacket, and Tara could feel her pulse racing in time with the bike’s engine.

Tara knew she would be your ‘backpack’ as you informed her about riding your bike for the date a few days prior. That doesn’t mean she didn’t freak out when you went up a needle on your speedometer though. She was hugging you so tightly around your waist, it could almost suffocate you. You said you didn’t mind it though, and Tara took every opportunity to hug you tighter, and shamelessly run her hands from your back to your shoulders, caressing and admiring the flexed muscles from handling the two-wheeled vehicle every chance she had, enjoying your warmth that contrasted with the chilly weather.

 Her heart was pounding as she felt the warmth of Y/N's back against her chest, the gentle hum of the motorcycle beneath them. She noticed how her grip tightened instinctively, wanting to hold on to something solid as her thoughts swirled in a mess. “Is this real? Is this really happening?"

After finding a parking spot near the theaters, you helped Tara with getting off your bike seeing as she couldn’t even reach the floor if she wanted to. You assisted with taking her helmet off and fixing her hair, pushing her messy bangs away and tucking it behind her ears absenmindedly without her needing to ask for help. Tara wanted to take you right then and there. “Who cares if it’s public indecency? Both of us are hot.” Tara thought. She had never met a more thoughtful and respectful person before she laid her eyes on you; You really knew how to please a girl. 

-

You proceeded to lead her to the entrance of the theatre, which was filled with people that was keen on watching the premier of The Terrifier 3. Tara was buzzing with excitement, practically hopping up and down and effortlessly having a conversation with you after easing her nerves, while waiting on your turns to get some snacks and get seated.

The film was amazing. It was almost concerning with how Tara didn’t even bat an eyelid during the more gory scenes, but you were glad she enjoyed it. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back after successfully making her glee and rambling about the film afterwards. You both decided to walk to the restaurant you were having dinner at, since it was only a few blocks away. You couldn’t ignore the fact that both your and Tara’s hands kept brushing against each other. You finally made the courage to hold her hands while she was still rambling about the show, your heart leaped when she interlocked your fingers together and continued talking, not commenting on the sudden act of affection.

Meanwhile, Tara was so damn glad you made the move first because she was overthinking too much to make the first move. She tried to act as nonchalant as possible, making it seem like your  gesture didn’t really affect her even though she had her heart in her mouth. When you both arrived at the restaurant, you had to wait for a while to be assigned a table. She finally made the courage to let go of your hands and to hold onto your ridiculously toned biceps, running her hands up and down your arm. She was tracing her fingers on the outline of your tattoo, making you shiver.

“You never told me this, but what’s the meaning behind your tattoo? I mean- It’s fine if it’s personal and you don’t wanna talk about it, though!” Tara stated with a slight panic in her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable and share something so intimate to you. You found it cute that she was trying to be mindful and considerate.

Tara was tracing your tattoo, which was full of different designs, mainly two dragons being intertwined and a date underneath it. “It’s fine- I don’t mind, really. It symbolizes the Chinese zodiac calendar. My mum and dad was born in the year of the dragon. I initially didn’t think of having a tattoo, but I considered it to honor them. They died a few years ago from a car crash, which explains the date beneath it.” You explained your tattoo in detail, including all the different strokes and lines on your hands. 

Tara wanted to cradle your head and hold you tightly, hiding you away from society after hearing that your parents are gone. It must’ve been tough handling life alone in your twenties. “At least I had Sam,” Tara thought. She gave you her condolences and you took her hand and kissed it, specifically where her scar is, before shrugging it off with a smile, not wanting to ruin the mood of the date. 

-

Dinner went by quickly, with Tara having a glass of wine (not you though, you knew you had the responsibility to send her home and you didn’t want Sam to kill you either) and getting to know each other more. Tara’s indication of having too much to drink is that she often hiccups, and that’s when you knew you had to pay the bill and send her home. On your way back to your bike, you and Tara were giggling and she kept trying to squeeze your face cheeks together, with your hand swatting her away. You decided to make a pitstop at a small bodega and buy a bottled water for Tara, attempting to sober her up, knowing she can’t ride on the bike being that drunk. You slowed your pace, allowing Tara to recover while interlocking your hands. She was effortlessly flirting with you, probably from the liquid courage she was sobering up from.

You finally reached your bike, with having an intention of helping Tara putting on her helmet when she hugged you, her arms wrapping around your neck and leaning her chin against your chest, staring at you. “I really, really like you y’know. Like, like-like you.” She stated, staring at you with her brown doe eyes that resembled a deer. 

Tara’s heart skipped again, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from a sudden realization—this was different. She hadn’t felt this kind of pull in a long time. And maybe—maybe—she wasn’t just hoping Y/N would kiss her. Maybe she was ready for it. And when the moment came, she wasn’t going to hold back. You softly chuckled, your cheeks tinting slightly at her sudden confession. “I’m glad you like me Tara. I really, really like you too,” you reciprocated and hugged her waist, embracing the intimate moment. Both of you leaned in, nose touching each other before you decided to lean away; Making Tara whine and roll her eyes. 

You really wanted to kiss her, but you didn’t want it to be in a random street where some creeps can be watching you both kiss for their own entertainment. Tara huffed in frustration and wore her (your) helmet, stubbornly trying to get on the bike without needing you assistance (she needed it, she was practically falling off that damn bike if it wasn’t for you). You softly chuckled at her act before wearing yours and turned on the bike, the engine growling. Throughout the ride, you knew Tara was still upset at you since she held her hands on your shoulders instead of your waist. 

After reaching her block, you followed her up to her apartment, making sure that she’s safe. Tara was being grumpy, having her arms crossed which prevented you to hold her hand. After reaching her apartment, she went to open the door, trying to enter before you had to chance to talk to her. “Tara- wait, give me a mi-“ 

“I don’t get you, Y/N. First you bring me out to this date, held my hands and now you don’t want to kiss me? Are you serious-“ Tara’s blabber was disrupted when you grabbed her by her cheeks and leaned in for a kiss, lips colliding. 

Tara melted in your hands like putty and wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you in and craning your neck, trapping you in her spell. You could taste her cherry lip gloss, secretly hoping that you get to kiss her more often to get accustomed to the taste. She lets out little sighs in between the kisses to take a breath, before pulling you in again for more. You bit her lip which made her gasp, having the opportunity to slip your tongue in, making her moan and kiss you fiercely and fight with you tongue to tongue.

You pulled away gently, making her whine at the sudden end of the passionate makeup. You gave her tiny pecks and chaste kisses which made her giggle before you pulled away. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Tara. I just wanted it to be private, I can’t let the creeps down the street see me kissing the girl I like,” You confessed, blushing heavily now that Tara’s attention is all on you. 

“Aw, you sap. I don’t mind letting them watch, at least they know you’re all mine now.” You gave another kiss, when the door opened abruptly.

“Well, well, well, look who’s grinning like a cat that got the cream.” Sam smirks, glancing between Tara and Y/N, making both blush out of embarrassment.

“So, did you two finally make it official, or am I gonna need to take out the old shower and have a little chit chat with Y/N? I know you have no problem with public declaration of ownership.” She gives Tara a teasing look, knowing full well that her sister’s not shy when it comes to flirting. “Shut up, Sam. I’m fine.” She rolls her eyes but it’s clear that she’s still caught up in the moment.

Sam shrugs dramatically, leaning closer to Y/N, lowering her voice with mock seriousness.

“You better keep your hands to yourself, or I will find out where you live, and I’ll have a serious talk with you. That’s your warning.” She threatens, almost breaking character but keeping it cool.

Y/N, clearly caught off guard but managing a nervous chuckle, nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. I’ll take good care of her, I swear.” They look at Tara, a little embarrassed, but there’s warmth in their eyes. They’re obviously not intimidated, but they know enough to respect Sam’s warning.

“Good answer, Y/N. Good answer.” She flashes a grin, pretending to be serious before stepping back from the door. ”And for the record, I’m definitely expecting a full play-by-play tomorrow, Tara. I’ve got all kinds of questions…”

Tara shakes her head, but there’s no hiding the smile on her face now. She turns back to Y/N, giving them a peck before slipping back inside her apartment with a soft click.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 3: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 1, here.)

There is, of course, a group chat. Billy initially named it, “Coven of Chaos💜” but Rio changed it to “sluts”

Jen immediately left the chat the second it was created, but Alice put her back in. There was a second escape attempt when they were all together, to which Lilia responded with an “🙁” expression, which was enough to convince Jen to reluctantly stay in the group chat.

Ironically, Lilia isn't even active on the group chat. She's terrible at texting & terrible at reasing messages. (“why is the print so small??”)

She is, however, surprisingly nimble with her phone outside of that. She needed to figure it out for business and stuff.

Sharon also doesn't know how to use the group chat. She had a flip-phone until recently—and only got a new one because Billy insisted she needed it. She keeps accidentally doing group calls by miss-clicking on her phone.

Sharon always calls Alice to “come fix her phone” because “it's broken again!!” Alice, each time, has to tell her that it's probably just out of battery.

Agatha is blocked on Jen's phone because she won't stop sending her spam, so they only ever text each other on the group chat, which Jen has muted.

Jen, Alice and Lilia have a separate group chat. Lilia hasn't even noticed, but they assume she has, because she leaves everything on read. In reality, she just thinks both group chats are the same group-chat and they always have to call her om the phone to make plans.

Alice wanted to add Billy to the second group chat too, but Jen told her that he'd probably be sad to not include the others so it's better that he doesn't find out.

Agatha claims she doesn't care what Billy does, but once she ran out of her house to his car because he forgot his jacket.

Billy made everyone friendship bracelets in prideflag colours, (like the ones agatha and rio wore in agatha's trial.)

“I hate bracelets” “don't wear it then” “fuck you, I'm never taking it off.”

“do you like it? :))” *chocked up* “it's fine i guess-”

Alice, Lilia, Sharon and Rio don't even play difficult, they just wear them immediately.

Agatha and Billy love doing matching Halloween outfits. Rio and Eddie would be offended, but like. They respect the slay.

Eddie would go as hulk (haha hulkling reference) and Rio would just wear a black t-shirt that says “BOO-bs” across her chest. And she'd draw nipples all over her body.

Billy makes them vote for best costume and he ALWAYS votes for Alice regardless of who actually has the best costume. Not because he's biased—just because hers are genuinely always his favourites.

Jen and Lilia will go shopping during the first weeks of October, when people start decorating for Halloween, and the moment Lilia spots a SINGLE pumpkin she starts bitching and moaning the WHOLE WAY HOME about how “the holiday industrial complex appropriates our culture through offensive stereotypes and absurd emblems and It's full of caricatures that stem from misogyny and female domesticity and villifying powerful women and AND there's so many racial micro-aggresions and it's all just exploiting us for profit and all these decorations and advertisements are just here to pressure people to buy products and--”

Jen stopped listening ten minutes ago. She SO regrets pointing and saying, “oh, that pumpkin is so cute!” as if she doesn't know who she's hanging out with.

So, obviously Lilia never dresses up for Halloween. Jen just dresses hot, so that Lilia won't be able to be mad at her.

Lilia has... No objections to that--

Rio's favourite thing during Halloween (but also just, always) is scaring the shit out of people.

They all have weekly movie nights :)

Rio picks “comedies” (Horror movies, psychological thrillers, slasher films, gothic fiction, dark comedies, survival horror, anything gruesome & grotesque & body horror & gore, post-apocalyptic fiction) Sharon “coincidentally” skips movie night whenever it's Rio's turn to pick a film.

Alice picked everything everywhere all at once during her last turn. Her and Lilia sobbed through it (for very different reasons) while hugging each other. Other than that, Alice usually picks action movies, crime films, and the occasional rom-com or coming-of-age.

Jen loves dramas. Any dramas. Unnecessary trope-filled miscommunication? Hit her up!

Sharon likes sitcoms and old hollywood productions with a romantic flair. She'll point at scenes and narrate stories about how, “me and my husband used to...”

Agatha watches a lot of reality tv because she loves to make fun of the people yelling at each other.

Billy will always pick musicals. (Lilia has forbidden a specific few—and I think we all know which few.)

Hilariously, Agatha uses her next turn to force Lilia to sit through Madonna's Evita.

Lilia herself hates historical movies and always points out the inaccuracies. Same with fantasy media, she just doesn't like it. She's the pickiest of them all with movies and she always chooses total obscure wildcards that nobody has ever heard before—and somehow they're always the best ones.

Billy's parents are very conflicted about these people. “How about you and Eddie just... Start hanging out with people your own age? Like!! Eddie's friend group!!”

Even when he starts hanging out with the Young Avengers, he still spends more than half of his free time with his coven of lesbian senior citizens. <3

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part 14)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad

Please comment and engage! Sorry this part is super long!

The dining room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken words. The table, usually a hub of laughter and warmth, was cloaked in silence, adorned only by scattered plates and an unfinished bottle of wine.

Danielle sat at one end, her gaze distant, the light glinting off her teary eyes as she cradled a glass of red, taking small, shuddering sips when her daughter walked into the room, just minutes after you had you had dropped her off in front of the house.

As she spotted her mother, Nina furrowed her brow with worry.

"Mum? What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembeling slightly and concern washing over her features.

Danielle's fingers tightened around the stem of her glass, but she didn't respond immediately, her gaze lingering on the patterned wallpaper, lost in thoughts only she could get to.

"Is everything okay?" Nina pressed, stepping closer, her heart racing.

Finally, Danielle turned her head, a flicker of annoyance sparking in her sorrowful eyes.

"I'm fine, Nina," she said, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

"Clearly," Nina replied, the sarcasm biting at the edges of her concern as Nina's two siblngs joined in aswell.

Danielle downed the last sip of wine and set her glass down sharply as all of the teenagers took their usual seats around the large table.

"If this is about the incident at school again," Nina's brother cut in, crossing his arms, but Danielle interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

"It's not," she snapped, her voice sharp as she shot him a weary glance which almost made him drop his phone.

In that moment, the door creaked open, and Cillian entered with a weariness that seemed to engulf him. His complexion appeared grey, as if he had stepped directly from a nightmare into reality.

He took a moment to survey the somber scene, the tension palpable and, even though her father had not yet spoken a single word, Nina's pulse quickened as she knew this wasn't going to be an ordinary family meeting.

"What's this about, Dad?" she then quickly asked, her voice steady despite the unease.

Cillian glanced at Danielle, an unspoken plea reflected in his gaze. "Your mother and I have something important to talk with you about," he began, his voice steady but laced with tension.

"No, you have something you want to talk about with them, Cillian!" Danielle snapped, cutting him off, her voice rising in anger. "None of this is my choice," she explained and all of the children exchanged glances with one another, bewildered and confused.

Cillian held his ground, attempting to keep calm amid the storm. "Danielle, let's not escalate this. You promised to keep—" he began, but was cut off quickly.

"Keep what?" she interrupted, furious. "Keep pretending that everything's fine? Look at us! I've waited long enough for you to find your damn courage!" she spat, her voice laced with anger.

Nina shifted, agitation coiling in her stomach. This wasn't the first time their parents had fought, but it felt more volatile today—raw wounds reopened.

"Guys, can we just get on with it?" she tried again, desperation creeping into her voice. "Without fighting maybe?" she suggested and at least her father nodded.

"Yes, of course," Cillian said, addressing his daughter with a heavy heart. "Things haven't been well for a while now. I moved out before, and—" he then began, but again, got interrupted, this time by Nina's younger sister.

"No shit," Cillian's daughter retorted, crossing her arms, which gave Nina the oppertunity to raise a question

"So you're moving out again? Taking another break from us? Your fucking family?" she asked, but Cillian shook his head, seemingly hurt by the choice of words from his eldest.

"I never took a break from you and your brother and sister, Nina. I love you, and I need you to understand that," he stressed, his deep blue eyes searching each of their faces for some hint of comprehension.

"But you don't love Mum," Nina threw back, her voice stiff. "I mean, it's obvious! Just say it already!"

Cillian's jaw clenched, frustration etching deeper lines into his face.

"No, I don't Nina. Not anymore," he interjected, his voice strained as he met her fierce gaze before continuing what he had to say. "And even if I did, your mother and I simply can't keep going like this forever. We are both unhappy in this marriage which is why we have decided to get a divorce," he concluded, each word a heavy stone cast into turbulent waters.

Danielle flinched as if struck, her earlier bravado evaporating. "No, Cillian!" she shouted, breaking down again, her hands covering her face as tears freely fell. "You did!" she spat. "You told me today that you wanted a divorce, so here we are," she explained to her children who were staring at their father with expressions of disbelief.

"And this is it? You just give up? Just like that?" Nina then asked just as Cillian was going to respond to Danielle's accusations.

Cillian met his daughter's gaze, pain flickering in his eyes. "It's not that simple, Nina. I've tried for years to make this work," Cillian continued, his voice wavering. "But trying is not enough anymore" he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Nina clenched her fists, frustration boiling over. "Don't say that! You're just giving up on us. Again," she said and her words sliced through the tense air, leaving a heavy silence in their wake as Danielle's sobs filled the space, drowning out any hope of reconciliation.

"I am not giving up on you Nina," Cillian's voice broke through the tension, each word weighted with urgency. "And I need you to understand that this isn't about you. It's about your mother and me."

"But you're choosing to walk away!" Nina shot back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"From my marriage, yes. But not my family," Cillian's gaze softened, the strain of the conversation knitting deeper lines across his forehead. "I'll always be here for you guys, no matter what happens between your mother and me," he assured, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them.

"Where will you even go?" the youngest, Isla, then piped up, her innocent voice trembling at the edge of the chaos swirling around them.

"I'll just be in town for now, in a small rental," Cillian replied, his heart breaking at the thought of his children's pain. "We can still see each other regularly though. I can come and visit you here, take you to school, hang out with you guys...nothing will change that."

Isla peered up at him, confusion mapping her features. "What does that even mean? Mum, please, where will we live?" she asked, glancing anxiously between both parents. "Will we stay with you? Or with dad sometimes too?" she wanted to know, but her mother simply shrugged her shoulders.

Cillian interjected and cleared his throat, "We'll figure it out soon sweet pea. But for now, it's important for you to just do what you would usually do, alright?" he suggested, causing his youngest to nod. "Go to school, meet up with your friends, and know that we'll work through this. We are still a family, just in a different way."

Danielle crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "We are still a family? Do you even hear yourself?" she snapped, her voice shaking with anger before throwing her glass to the floor. The glass shattered, a sharp crack slicing through the tense atmosphere.

"You need to calm down Danielle!" Cillian's voice rose, the force of it surprising the children.

"Calm down? After everything you've done to this family tonight?" Danielle's eyes blazed, fury mixing with despair. "I can't calm the fuck down with you being here," she spat, shards of glass crunching underfoot as she glared at Cillian.

Nina stepped forward, a fierce determination igniting her voice. "Mom, we need to talk about this. Yelling won't solve anything," she insisted, her gaze fierce as it swept between her parents.

"You are right Nina, but maybe it would be better for your mother if I left for now, just to give you all some time to breathe," Cillian suggested, his voice dropping to a near whisper, eyes searching for understanding.

Nina's jaw clenched, determination flickering in her gaze before she nodded.

"Yeah, maybe," Nina then murmured, her voice steady despite the storm behind her eyes all the while her mother sat back, arms crossed tightly across her chest as Isla stepped forward to give her father a hug.

"Just know I love you all," Cillian he urged, his voice breaking as his youngest daughter clung to him, her small frame shaking with quiet sobs.

Nina's bother, on the other hand, just shook his head and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, a silent rebellion against the chaos rattling the house.

Cillian's hand lingered on Isla's back, steadying as his heart clenched. "We'll find a way through this baby. I promise," he vowed and Isla nodded.

"I know dad," she whispered, her voice trembling as she finally took a step back, which is when Cillian met her gaze, the weight of unsaid promises heavy in the air.

"Love you guys," he then said as it was time for him to go and Nina stood frozen, tears shimmering in her eyes, as her father turned to leave.

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

Shortly after Cillian had left, Isla too had disappeared into her room, and Nina finally found herself at the threshold, her heart aching as she looked at her mother's crumpled figure.

She was still sitting there, sobbing into her hands, the rawness of grief filling the room.

"Mum, why didn't you tell us that it is that bad between you and dad?" Nina finally asked, her voice thick.

Danielle lifted her head, red-rimmed eyes searching her daughter's face.

"Because I thought I could still fix this," she murmured, her voice cracking. "I hoped it would just click one day, that he would stop sleeping around and focus on us again," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"So you think that he was cheating on you again? Is that why you have been fighting with him so much lately?" Nina queried, having heard the many rumours about her father.

Danielle's eyes glimmered with fresh tears. "It's not just that, but yes, there most definatly is another woman in the picture right now, and it infuriates me," she spat, trembling with anger as her hands clenched into fists on the table.

Nina stepped closer, her heart racing. "Are you sure? You think Dad is with someone else?" she queried in disbelief, her pulse quickening.

Danielle's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "I found some make-up stains on his t-shirt today, after he had put it in the dirty wash, and I could smell her perfume on it too," she murmured, sorrow drenching her words abd Nina's heart thudded against her ribs.

"Mum, are you even sure that it was his t-shirt you grabbed from the laundry basket and not my brother's?" Nina leaned closer, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "I mean, he steals dad's clothes all the time to go on dates and stuff," she argued, folding her arms defiantly.

"I am sure," Danielle repeated, her voice shaking as she wiped away another tear. "It was your dad's and that's why I confronted him, which is when things escalated and, in the end, he asked for a divorce," she explained to her daughter who couldn't help but wonder.

"So, you think he has someone else? Just like that? And he is leaving you for her?" Nina asked and Danielle nodded, eyes brimming with tears.

"Yes and I think it is someone we know too, because I have smelled that perfume before, somewhere. I just don't know where..." Danielle murmured, her fingers trembling against the table's edge, but for Nina, all of this was too much.

"That's absurd, Mum. You can't just jump to conclusions because of some smell on his t-shirt," she challenged, frustration flooding her voice as she no longer knew what or whom to believe and, thus, quickly brushed off her mother's concerns.

"I just have a feeling Nina. I just know something is off," Danielle's voice trembled, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

"Feelings don't prove anything, Mum!" Nina shot back, frustration igniting the space between them. "But maybe he did cheat. Or maybe he did not. You have been accusing him of cheating for years on end and, at least now, it no longer matters. He is gone and I think I will leave for a little while too. I might stay at Y/N's house for a few days to clear my head," Nina declared, her voice firm, conviction anchoring her stance and Danielle's eyes widened, a mix of anger and sorrow flooding her expression.

"So you are leaving me? Just like your father?" she asked and Nina stood firm, her jaw set.

"Yeah, I need space, Mum. This place feels toxic right now," she determined before leaving her mother in an emotional silence, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken burdens.

Tags:

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[squinch-depraved]

hi. i couldn't help myself and had to come back you should write lc!schlatt and reader at his friends halloween party,you can pick the costumes because i have no idea for that..it should totally stem off of intoxication etc whatever you want to put for your idea on this and another reason was because halloween month is here:)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

i hope this is good i kinda just let this one take me where it wanted to take me idk

CW: intox/cnc/dubcon kinda

you knew as soon as you saw him across the party that the night would end with you two hooking up. he was dressed in a knight costume (it was a simple one, but he pulled it off really well) and you were in a cute little witch's outfit. the two of you were stealing glances at each other all night, and whenever you went to refresh your drink, he would walk up to the alcohol table just to get a chance to talk to you.

"some party, huh?" he asked awkwardly, refilling his cup with way more whiskey than he had any business taking.

you snorted, smiling, and eyed him up and down as you tried to decide what beverage to grab. you settled on taking the whiskey from him and filled your cup up almost as much as he did. "you've been eye-fucking me all night and that's your opener?" you teased him as you clinked your plastic cups together and took a big gulp.

schlatt's face flushed as he held eye contact with you. "what the fuck else am i supposed to say??" he fumbled, making you giggle. the melodic sound stuck in his mind for the rest of the night- he loved when he made you laugh like that.

"you're fine, jay, i was just messing with you. fuck, my head is spinning," you assured him before taking another long sip. about half of the contents of your cup were gone now, and he raised his eyebrows at how drunk you must be- he had been watching you for most of the night, this had to have been your fifth trip to the table.

"maybe don't drink that much that fast?" he suggested in a joking tone. he hoped you were too far gone to detect the genuine concern in his voice.

"don't tell me what to do," you squinted at him. "i'm fine." you were almost swaying at this point.

"alright," he agreed reluctantly, putting his hands up to show he believed you. "you wanna go sit down somewhere, though? it's kinda loud in here, maybe we can find somewhere to sit and talk or something."

you eyed him suspiciously. "just talk?"

he nodded and tried to look sincere. "yeah, if that's all you want."

and so he led you to the only space the two of you could find that wasn't crowded with your drunk friends- a small, dimly lit bathroom. schlatt felt a bit weird sitting down with you on the floor, backs to the bathtub, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

after a bit, you traded your cup for his so you had more to drink.

"hey!" he objected, but you weren't listening. you were just taking long gulps of the alcohol, grimacing as it burned your throat on the way down.

"y'know, i really don't mind that you've been staring at me all night. makes me feel special," you slurred. "i like when you make me feel special."

his face reddened and he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "what about it makes you feel so special? i'm just admiring you." his voice was shaky.

"just the way you stare. you've always got this hunger in your eyes when you look at me; usually, i try to ignore it, but tonight, i'm too drunk to shove the feelings down."

schlatt smirked at your admission. "so there's feelings?" he sounded more sure of himself now.

with a chuckle, you nodded and took another sip from your cup. "there are definitely feelings. i've just been ignoring them for a while because i didn't know how you felt." after swallowing a large mouthful of the amber liquid, you sighed deeply. "can't believe i'm actually telling you this, i'm gonna regret it so much in the morning. if i even remember..." you muttered.

he shifted on the floor next to you uncomfortably, moving his legs in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension in his groin. "listen, i'm not as drunk as you, but," he took a long gulp from his plastic cup, "there are some feelings on my end, too, if that helps. i dunno..." he sniffed and inspected a framed painting that was hanging on the wall.

you felt your cheeks heat up at his confession and finished off your drink hastily. "can you fuck me?"

"w-what?" he sputtered, turning to stare at you.

"can you fuck me?" you repeated. "tired of waiting for you, j. i know i'm wasted, and maybe i won't have any recollection of this happening when i'm sober again, but i need you right now."

schlatt blinked a few times, running over your request in his mind, and ran his fingers through his hair. "isn't that, like... taking advantage? ted said something about drunk people not being able to fully consent," he mumbled. you sighed frustratedly and grabbed his chin, turning him to look at you.

"i don't give a shit, schlatt. fuck me." the demand caused his pants to tighten, and you glanced down at his lap just in time to see his bulge twitch slightly. grinning, you scooted closer towards him, savoring the look of desire in his eyes. "i can tell you want it just as much as i do. c'mon, baby, please. take advantage of me." his breath hitched in his throat, and in an instant, he was standing up and extending a hand down to you to help you rise as well. as soon as you were both on your feet, he pressed you against the counter and pulled you in for a deep kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth after biting your lip. you yelped and jumped up onto the surface behind you, sitting down on it and spreading your legs open so he had easier access for whatever he wanted to do.

"mm, you're so eager," he breathed into your ear before taking it between his teeth gently. a whimper escaped your lips, any confidence you had now gone from how flustered his dominance was making you. "you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

another whine slipped out, and you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to hold him close.

"yeah, bet you've just been dreaming about being used by me. sounds like it, judging by how easy it is to make you moan for me." his velvet smooth words coated your eardrums, rendering you helpless as he reached and slid your stockings and panties down. using his thumb to collect your slick, he brought it up to your mouth and pressed it onto your tongue. the taste of yourself being forced upon you like this left you rolling your eyes back into your head.

"good slut," he whispered with a slight smile. withdrawing his thumb, he swiftly dove in to replace his digit with his tongue, swirling and exploring your mouth with such passion that it made you dizzy. after he had enough of the taste of whiskey on your lips, he lowered himself between your thighs and stared up at you, eyes full of longing.

"you don't know how long i've wanted to do this for you," he said earnestly.

for me. not to me, you thought fleetingly.

"then do it." the words were barely audible, but they made him grin and duck his head under your dress. as soon as his tongue met your folds, clumsy and desperate to taste you, you were a moaning mess. you tried to cover your mouth, but he reached one arm up to reach for your hand and pulled it off.

"lemme hear you," he mumbled against your core. "you wanted to be fucked here so bad, you get to be embarrassed by your choices."

a whorish noise spilled from your lips before he continued, "and say my name, too. want people to know who's makin' you feel this good."

he sped up his tongue, circling your clit over and over, and inserted two fingers into you one by one. the speed at which he pumped them in and out of you would have been cruel if it didn't make you feel so euphoric. it didn't take him long to make you cum, you were so worked up- not to even mention how drunk you were; that always made it so much easier for you to orgasm.

"please, schlatt!! ohh, fuck, oh my god!" you screamed as your legs trembled around his head. he smiled against your cunt and pressed a few messy kisses to it before pulling away to stare up at you. his face was covered in your juices, although you almost didn't notice it due to his expression of pure adoration.

he rose after a few moments of admiring you, undoing his pants just enough to expose his length and positioned himself between your legs once more. "god, this is gonna feel so good," he babbled as he fished a condom out of his pocket.

"you don't have to use that," you offered, snapping out of your daze of staring at his cock.

"'s fine. wanna make sure i'm sober the first time i cum in you. don't wanna even risk not remembering it." his words sent a shudder down your spine; did he want to do this again? would this be more than a one-night stand? you prayed that it would be as he slid the protection onto his shaft.

schlatt made eye contact with you as he pressed his tip against your sensitive bud. you drew in a small breath and clutched onto his shoulders, trying to keep the room from spinning.

"you ready?" he asked, planting a warm kiss on your neck. you nodded as you let out a sharp gasp and braced yourself for him to enter you. it hurt a bit when he did, but the hiss you let out didn't make him stop. he just kept pushing in until he was buried to the hilt between your velvet walls.

he gave you a few seconds before he started moving. it was awkward at first; you were both intoxicated, so it was bound to be a little clumsy, but every second felt incredible. once he established a rhythm, rolling his hips so hard they smacked against your ass, you were clawing at his back and chanting his name. the doorknob rattled loudly and some people laughed on the other side of the door- it sounded like ted and a few of your other friends, but you couldn't be sure.

"fuck," he grunted, gripping your hip with one hand and using the other to cup your face and bring you in for a kiss. "so fuckin' good for me, you stupid little whore." the mixture of praise and degradation made the knot that was forming in your stomach tighten, and you groaned into his mouth. "you gonna cum for me again, doll?"

with a vigorous nod, you leaned your head back against the mirror and surrendered to the endless pleasure schlatt was giving you. "i think i'm gonna cum, too," he grinned. "you keep gettin' tighter and tighter around me, it's gettin' impossible to- nnggh, keep, it together, holy shit! fuck, i'm gonna cum!"

with one final slam into you, he bit down on your shoulder through your dress and groaned loudly, chest heaving. you yelped as he did so and wrapped your arms around him for a hug, which he immediately reciprocated. after pulling out of you and discarding the very full condom, he helped you down and assisted you in fixing your costume so you could return to the party with at least a little bit of dignity.

"wanna come sleep at my place?" he offered. "i feel like it's the least i can do after... that." he smiled softly and adjusted a strand of your hair that was out of place.

"only if we can do it again," you bargained.

"deal. i'll call an uber." he stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving you to have a second to yourself. you made the final fixes to your costume and applied a coat of your lip gloss before taking a deep breath and exiting the room, ready to face whatever else was in store for you that night.

[boybandbaby]

I Know That I Wasn't Right (Spencer Reid x Reader)

word count: 859

warnings/tags: light angst (disagreement, mean comment towards Spencer, Spencer rejecting reader's kisses), fluff, as always please let me know if i missed anything

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You and Spencer had gotten into a small disagreement this morning. It was honestly too early and your irritation stemmed from that, causing you to snap at him. What was supposed to be a fun day of running errands together, quickly became a morning of silence.

As you ate your breakfast, Spencer read a book to avoid speaking or looking at you. He was upset with you over a comment you made.

"Babe, wake up!" He shook your shoulder. "The book store opens at 6am."

"The store doesn't open until 8am, go back to bed." You grumble.

"Y/n, I already checked, it's 6am. Please get up." He whines.

"I literally checked last night, it's 8am. Just because you're a genius doesn't mean you know everything." You say, unfiltered. At the time, you said it out of annoyance not thinking how it would hurt him.

While you were irritated with his behavior, you still wanted him to get the book he wanted and you needed groceries. "Spence, I'm going to get ready. We'll leave in 20 minutes?" You offer, setting your bowl in the sink.

He doesn't respond, closing his book and going to stand. "Spencer…" You say softly, brushing his hair back and going to kiss his cheek. Spencer's body goes rigid when your lips meet his cheek. He gently turns away and pretends he's busy, picking up his cold toast.

You sigh and head to the bathroom. You're ready in 20 minutes, as promised. Spencer takes longer as he's decided not to get ready beside you like normal. While you're scrolling through your phone, slouched on the couch, he appears in a turtleneck.

"Spencer, why are you wearing a turtleneck? It's supposed to be hot today." You point out.

He continues to ignore you as he slips on his shoes. "Baby, please talk to me." You pout, hoping he'll give in if you give him puppy eyes. You jog the short distance over to him and wrap your arms around his waist. "Spencer, I'm sorry I was rude to you this morning." You lean up to kiss his jaw. Spencer stands on his tippy toes to try and get away from you.

You sigh and take a step back. This is the second time he's attempted to reject a kiss from you and you're starting to get upset. "You know what? I think I'll stay home, have fun at the book store." You kick off your shoes and make your way to the room.

Spencer stands by the door, shoulders slumped. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. Even if your earlier comment hurt him, he really wasn't trying to get back at you for it. Plus, he loves running errands with you. He has a debate on whether or not he should seek you out or go to the store by himself. He thinks that would hurt you a little bit more and he doesn't want to be cruel.

He unties his laces and places the shoes neatly against the wall, fixing your previously kicked off shoes to line up with his. "Baby, I'm sorry."

He sees that you've already changed back into your pajamas and you're curled into the bed. He walks over to your side of the bed and scoots himself onto the edge. His hand rubs your hip. "Look, the reason I rejected your kisses and why I'm wearing a turtleneck is because whenever we have a fight and it's your fault, you always kiss my neck and I give in instantly."

He hears you laugh, "it's never my fault."

"Okay, sure, you're right." He agrees, even though you both know it's not the truth. "I was really hurt by your comment this morning and I wanted to make you sweat a little bit."

"So, you wore a turtleneck so I wouldn't have access to your neck?"

"Yes! But then you find another body part to kiss and I start to melt." He smiles as you sit up, his hand sliding from your hip to your ankle. He gives your ankle a squeeze. "I'm sorry I was being mean."

"No, no." You reach out to him, grabbing his empty hand. "You're right to be mad and upset with me. What I said was really mean. You're a genius and I love that about you."

"But you're right too and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm not always right. I am most of the time though." He grins.

"Okay, brag." You roll your eyes. "Will you please take that stupid turtleneck off so I can give you apology neck kisses?"

"Fine, but only because it's itchy." He smiles. You spend the next few minutes peppering his neck and face with kisses. He's giggling and squirming as you trap him under you.

Shortly after, you get redressed and head out for the day. You're walking hand in hand towards the book store when he pulls the handle. The door doesn't budge. You both look at each other and search the store front for the hours of operation. Saturday: 10am to 8pm.

"Huh, apparently we were both wrong." You shrug.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[loveriotss]

Hello :)

I really enjoy your work, I've read all of it even if I didn't like the character bc your writing style is just so good I want to chop you up and put you into a stew in the best way possible

do you think you could do a bakugo x reader where the reader has a similar personality to him? they would be such a power couple + I'm a fiend for mean readers

also, may I be 🛸anon?

DOUBLE TROUBLE ⸻ katsuki bakugo

INCLUDES — gn! reader, headcannons, drabbles, fluff, crack WARNINGS — swearing

main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚

BEFORE DATING —

you both always tried to one up the other.

both in studies and combat training, y'all were rivals.

during training exercises, aizawa would have to use his capturing weapons on you two because sometimes your arguments would get out of hand.

[bkg] "HAH! I WON!" [y/n] "YOU CHEATED YOU MOTHERFU-" [aizawa] "that is enough. i will expel both of you if you keep doing this.

you both would get annoyed at times because of how similar you are.

ideas and tastes clashing occasionally and sometimes, even insults.

like an argument would be going on and suddenly you both spew out the same insult 😭😭.

[y/n] "shut the fuck up bakugo no one cares if you don't like this movie, we all are watching it." [bkg] "tch whatever, i don't want to watch a movie with your dumbass in the room anyway." [y/n] "yeah sure bakugo, make excuse. we all know the real reason is because it's past your bedtime." [bkg] "THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME!?" [y/n] "OH I DIDN'T KNOW YOU'RE DEAF TOO!" [kiri] "uh hey guys? y'know this is a movie marathon, you both could pick out one movie each-" [bkg + y/n] "SHUT UP IDIOT" "SHUT UP IDIOT"

and now you two are having another fight because "you copied me!"

despite your bickering, there’s an underlying respect and understanding between you and him.

you recognize each other’s strengths and weaknesses and can see the drive and determination in one another, even if y'all don’t openly acknowledge it.

there will be times when you silently exchange your notebooks where you've written quirk/fight techniques and read through them, sometimes adding small tips on the side.

you might bond over your shared ambitions and goals.

conversations sometimes revolving around your dreams and aspirations, and both of you motivating each other to push harder, even if you guys don’t show it directly.

mixed signals, mixed signals, mixed signals!!!

both of your dumbasses can't tell if the other sees them as a rival or something more.

like yeah you maybe 'hate' his guts but there's no one more understanding than him, no one who'd help you with your combat as much as him, no one who'd motivate you to stride further as much as him.

katsuki would be in denial for a bit, thinking these feelings would pass.

but honestly, he knew he was lying to himself. he admired you a lot as a person and his romantic feelings for you stemmed from there.

after he admitted his feelings to himself, he attempts to give you hints.

but poor boy doesn't know how to show that he cares for you properly and so all of his attempts fail as you take them as his usual brashness.

even people from outside your class start noticing how big of a crush you two have on eachother. always bickering but always together.

eventually you had decided that you'd confess soon. no use in dragging this out right?

but i fear katsuki beat you to it.

the ua dorms were quiet at this hour, save for the whisper of wind rustling through the trees. behind the building, where shadows danced in the moonlight, katsuki bakugo stood with his back against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. you approached cautiously, glancing around to make sure no one else was near. you had a feeling this meeting wasn’t about a routine patrol or a late-night training session. when your eyes met bakugo’s, you saw something different — a rare vulnerability. he cleared his throat, the tension in his shoulders betraying his nervousness. “look, i've never done this and I’m not good at talking about feelings or whatever. i like you, okay? i’m not gonna be all sappy but i wanted you to know.” his eyes darted away, focusing on a distant tree, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. your heart raced, a smile tugging at your lips. “ah shit, you beat me to it bakugo.” bakugo’s head snapped back to you, eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, the air crackled with an unspoken tension before you both let out a chuckle, the gravity of the confession settling between you. "katsuki." he says, as your eyebrows rose in surprise. "call me katsuki, no more bakugo." you laugh before replying. what an honor. the bakugo katsuki is telling you to call him by his first name. "then you call me y/n. no more dumbass." you reply. "i'll think about it." "HEY!" the night air seemed to have grown warmer, the two of you stayed outside for another hour, simply taking strolls and talking. before you two headed back in, katsuki stopped behind you, causing you to turn around. “so . .” katsuki began, his voice less abrasive now, “we're like . . together right?” you pause, reaching your hand out to him. “we just confessed to each other you idiot. obviously we are.” a small hint of a smile appeared on katsuki's face as he took your hand in his. "i said to call me katsuki." "be quiet."

WHILE DATING —

you and katsuki had decided to not tell anyone about your relationship.

it wasn't a secret or anything, you two just didn't bother to tell anybody.

now this had driven your class mad. they knew something had happened between the two of you but they couldn't point out what.

it wasn't uncommon for you and katsuki to disappear at times. everyone assumed that it was for extra training.

so when you both would be leaving randomly in the afternoons, returning close together with not a sweat droplet in sight, they started suspecting something is going on.

[mina] "these two are killing mee! there is something going on, i'm so sure of it!" [tsu] "you're right mina. i think i even saw them wearing the same bracelet?" [jiro] "no way. i thought it was just a coincidence but now that you pointed it out, they did start wearing it from this week. getting the same bracelet is one thing, but at the same time?" [toru] "oh my god i feel like they're doing this on purpose to annoy us! i asked y/n about it and they just made a face at me and left."

you and katsuki know damn well about what y'all are doing. not oblivious to some of your classmates glancing at you two when you both leave to 'train' (going on a date).

it's absolutely hilarious to both of you when you see your classmates going crazy over your relationship.

when you and katsuki do decide to drop the bomb on them, they actually go ballistic.

the common room was a buzz of energy as class 1-a settled in for their usual friday night tradition: snacks, board games, and a new episode of their favorite show. the table was cluttered with bowls of popcorn, candy, soda cans and laughter filled the air as the group organized the evening’s activities. katsuki and you were sitting on the carpet, backs against the couch as y'all played an intense game of monopoly with mina and kirishima. everyone got really competitive, occasionally shifting their focus towards the show before continuing to play. after a while, you emerged victorious, shoving your victory into kirishima and mina's face as katsuki yawned and stretched beside you. “i’m heading to bed,” he announced, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. you glanced up from the board, nodding in acknowledgment. “goodnight,” you said. katsuki stood up, gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, and turned to head towards the dorms. his demeanor was so matter-of-fact that it was as if he’d merely forgotten his snacks in the kitchen. the entire common room went silent, eyes widening in shock. the gesture had been so casual, yet it spoke volumes. kirishima broke the silence with an excited shout. “i knew it!” he ran off to sero who reluctantly handed him some yen. wonderful, your classmates had a bet on you two. a wave of murmurs and surprised exclamations rippled through the room. “wait, you guys are together?” denki says, his eyes as big as saucers. you shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips as you propped yourself up to the couch. “what do you think stupid? did he just kiss my forehead for fun?” denki opened his mouth to retort back but was interrupted by squeals from mina. “OH MY GOD YES!! YOU BOTH ARE OFFICIALLY MY FAVORITE COUPLE!” mina exclaimed, interlocking her fingers with toru excitedly.

word travels fast in ua and by the end of the weekend, everyone and their moms know about you.

it couple, power couple (sometimes even literally because of how strong/powerful you both are), the couple. all these titles were easily taken by you and katsuki.

you both had a private relationship, everyone knew you were dating but never knew anything other than that.

both of you still have your competitive nature when it comes to training, however it has taken on a more balanced role.

while y'all still enjoy challenging each other, there's a greater sense of teamwork. you both support each other's goals and work together to achieve them, blending your rivalry with cooperation.

your arguments become less frequent and more constructive.

you've learned to communicate better and understand each other’s triggers and emotional responses.

instead of heated arguments, your interactions often involve playful and affectionate teasing.

you both have learned to express affection through shared humor and banter, making your interactions more enjoyable.

while y'all might still show a tough exterior in public, you have a more private and tender side to your relationship.

when alone, you both share moments of vulnerability and affection that are hidden from the outside world.

katsuki's protective instincts become more apparent and openly acknowledged.

he knows you're strong enough to handle yourself, but he can't stop himself from always looking out for you and feeling the need to protect you.

overall you both have a sweet and healthy relationship. always being there for each other and correcting the other when necessary.

NOTE — OMG THANK YOUU THATS SO SWEET 😭💕. OFCC YOU CAN BE 🛸 ANON!! hope you liked this! im so sorry this took so long, school has started and i get really busy on the weekdays so i only have time to write on weekendss.

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING. Its so comforting but also quite accurate to the character’s personality.

I wondered if u could make a part 2 of Drunk, with Adrian and the reader.

Be free with your imagination i am sure it will turn out great!

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi anon, sorry it took me so long to answer but I had no ideas what to write for this request. 😳

My writing has changed a little since I wrote part 1 of this. Hopefully, it'll be still up to standard.

Days after the incident, Adrian was still haunted by the things he had said and might have said while inebriated. It seemed rather silly, considering you haven't mentioned anything about that night, kind as you were. However, the son of Dracula was shaken after exposing himself to you, in more ways than one.

At the memory of him practically showing his naked chest in your face whilst rambling drunkenly about his loneliness, he could feel his face warming up. He undoubtedly has that unflattering shade of pink on his right now. Adrian lifted his chin from his steepled fingers, pressing his forehead against them instead. Instead of moping behind the wooden table, he should be making dinner as he watched bits of dust dancing in the last rays of evening sun streaming through the Tudor windows.

At this moment, you're probably getting both their beds ready for the night. Pulling back the bedspread and making a fire in the fireplace. You made a habit of slipping a stem of lavender from the garden and putting it under the pillows. He can hear you fussing about it, even though you're one floor higher. The dhampir's senses were finely attuned to your every breath and every movement. It came to the point where it was torturous. He wasn't just trying to dull away the pain of his past, but these pressing feelings as well.

Damn him, again and again, he's becoming attached to people only to be left every time. No doubt you will leave too, once you're able to. He'll be nothing but a fond memory...

"How's the dinner? I hope there'll be someplace left on the stove for teap-"

He's dragged away from his gloomy thoughts by the sudden sound of your voice nearing the door. You stopped mid-sentenced when you saw him sitting at the kitchen table, instead of working at the stove. He felt an immediate pang of guilt.

"Apologies I've seem to be a bit addle-brained today."

Adrian offered an apology as he started pulling the cutlery from its hooks. Hopefully with his back turned and his hands occupied, you won't notice his rather obvious fluster.

"Ah, it's alright," you waved him off in a placating manner as you rounded the table towards him. "Head still spinning from the vine, I see." you teased him as he made a fire in the stove, almost making him set his brows on fire.

As you walked past him, you gently put your hand on his back to make him step away. A whisper of a touch, yet he was tingling all over, his heart beating irregularly.

He clutched the edges of the stove, ignoring the rising heat. It can't go on like this. He has to do something.

You prepared the dinner in relative silence. You chopped mushrooms as he prepared pastry into small pans. Soon, bulky savory tarts were pulled out of the stove. He watched you wolf down four tarts in the row, while his plate was left neglected, safe for the few pokings with the fork.

"Adrian?"

His head snapped to you at the sound of your voice. He noticed you were looking at him in concern.

"What is it? You've been spaced out for days now." It was your turn to study your plate as you mumbled, "Is it...about the kiss?"

He was definitely blushing now. Adrian took a generous gulp of water from his chalice as he contemplated his answer.

"Yes and no."

You looked at him in confusion and he sighed in resignation.

"I'm sorry...my friend. The thing is..." He caressed the grooves in the ground glass. Would she even understand? What kiss meant to him?

"There have been several attempts in my life. There have been people who stayed in this castle pretending to be my friend and then turning on me as soon as I became vulnerable."

Adrian closed his eyes momentarily, chasing away the tainted memory of their hands coiling around him like vines of a poisonous plant. The pleasure, and the pain. So, so much pain... He opened his eyes and there were your eyes, filled with some much tenderness he had to suppress the urge to look away again.

"But last night, you didn't... and you could, easily so."

"I'd never-"

"I know, I know," he gently cut you off by putting his hand over yours. Your palm was much warmer than his, dainty fingers covered completely by his long ones.

"Believe it or not, but you singlehandedly restored a great deal of my hope in humanity. What once had been destroyed..."

He hasn't allowed his mind to wander to dark places, not this time.

"I don't mean to bring up such depressing subjects. But when one leads a life such as mine, you tend to... figure some things out."

"Things?" You carefully prompted, pity overrun by curiosity at last.

Adrian smiled in a self-deprecating fashion. "Well, for example, I have now discovered that in this entire world, I only have one close friend. You are my only solace, the only person that I can talk to regularly."

There was Trevor and Sypha, of course, but they found solace in one another, something deeper than friendship. Adrian understood now, what those feelings meant. His next words were full of emotion.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know if more demons will come and I'll be forced to fight them off. I don't know if the world will end tomorrow... and that used to not bother me. I used to not mind the idea of death. To slip into the quiet sleep..."

He trailed off, and you squeezed his fingers in encouragement. He squeezed yours right back, so you know he's not spiraling again.

"However, whatever courage I have towards that cause always sours at the thought of what comes after. What does come after do you think?"

You looked over his shoulder in contemplation, you traveled places far away from here, no doubt. Thankful you're entertaining his silly musings, Adrian patiently awaits your response.

"I'd like to think it's a place where I meet all my loved ones once more." You gave him a warm smile.

He chuckles at that. "Interesting response."

"What about you? What do you think?"

Adrian shook his head, golden locks tumbling over his shoulders, "As I said, the fear of not knowing that is the only thing that kept me alive for quite some time. But now, now that I've spent some time with you, it allowed me to clear my mind of that sort of dangerous thought. I think I may have an answer, maybe not a very good one but..."

He gingerly trails his hand from yours to the curve of your elbow and you let him. He leans closer, tone bordering on a soft whisper as he looks into your eyes.

"It doesn't matter what comes next, that shouldn't dictate our actions while we are still here. If you want something, chase it." He puts the other hand on your cheek, making his intentions clear with his actions and his words. Carefully, so you can pull away at any time.

Please don't.

"You have allowed me, to come to this mindset," he sighs. "The thought that what I want is worthwhile to pursue. So I will pursue that which I want. I will pursue... you."

It is evident that his words left you speechless. You stare at him with your mouth slightly parted. Adrian lets out a small breathless chuckle.

Is it really that shocking? After our lips have already become acquainted?

"I know...I know that I'm... half human, half vampire, so at the very least I know it can work, but it's up to you, really." His thumb caressed your cheekbone, "I will continue to pursue you for as long as you allow me."

He can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and he hoped his words touched the part of your soul he wanted them to. However you still haven't said a word and Adrian needs you to voice your desires, or lack thereof, directly.

"I bid you command me now. My devotion is solely placed at your feet. I truly cherish you. Every step you take and breath you breathe."

You close your eyes and choke back a sob as he places one small kiss on your forehead.

With a voice clogged up with emotion, you finally release him from his torment.

"I... would love... nothing more... than to be pursued by you." You say as you give him a watery smile.

He lets out a relieved sigh as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Then pursue you I shall."

It takes only a moment for the atmosphere to change around you. With hunger, you never saw in his eyes, he whispers to you hoarsely.

"Come here, you..."

The kiss is devoid of any sweetness the first one had. This one is full of fire and blood and passion that takes your breath away. You don't have time to react as he pulls you to his lap. His kiss goes down your throat and settles in your belly like a fine liquor.

[captainjamster]

Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vows.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

-

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

-

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

-

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

[peachdues]

And a fluff thought stemming from bundle of joy just some years after

All I'm cracking up at is this big scary wind hashira, terrifies the lower ranked slayers. Middle of training when they break for lunch, Y/N coming by with their now toddler daughter. Watch the slayers head spin when this lil girl is absolutely delighted to see her dad, running to hug his leg squealing

No, because this has sent me into a spiral.

Imagine Sanemi has the lower-ranked slayers nearly passing out from how brutal his training is, but they're also too scared to actually stop because they know it will just make their day a thousand times worse.

Sanemi is in the middle of laying into one of them because his form was wrongwrongwrong and how can he possibly expect to cut a demon's head off if he can't even hold a fucking sword, when they're interrupted by a shriek of laughter and joy from across the training grounds.

At first, the group of trainees see the Lunar Hashira crossing the dirt towards them, and they think, oh thank god, she's here to save us from Shinazugawa's wrath, she's going to help, thank god, thank god.

But instead she stops, and she's not looking at them, she's looking at the Wind Pillar and the Wind Pillar alone (like hello?? they're here too?? damn), and he stops the entire training session.

Suddenly, a small, white-haired, pink-cheeked miniature human peeks out from behind the Lunar Pillar's leg. She takes one look at the scarred menace who is low-key torturing this poor group of slayers, and she lets out the loudest little shriek of delight and begins toddling towards Shinazugawa as fast as her little chubby legs can carry her because she just learned to walk and now nothing can stop her.

And Shinazugawa smiles, and not in his signature sadistic manner that makes his trainees nearly wet themselves, but he has an actual genuine smile on that scarred face of his. Then, he does something even creepier -- he laughs.

He squats down and opens his arms as this little ball of pudge and snowy hair waddles to him, and he scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders while she claps her little hands together, laughing.

Sanemi then turns back to the group and for half a second, they think maybe Shinazugawa is in a good enough mood to dismiss them for the day because he can't possibly want his little angel to see him all scary and mean and angry, right?

Sanemi does decide he's done with training for the day -- but they're not. Instead, the Lunar Hashira -- his wife -- is stepping in to run them on defensive drills. Most of them haven't trained under the Lunar Hashira, so they breathe a sigh of relief, because surely, surely her training cannot be anywhere near as life-threatening as Shinazugawa's.

The Lunar Hashira looks so kind, so gentle, as she unsheathes her actual fucking weapon and begins using her breathing forms on them (because it's a mostly defensive-style of fighting, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have some very fast, very brutal offensive techniques saved for when she needs them). The slayers are forced to run, to contort their bodies into unimaginable shapes in a desperate attempt to dodge her crescent-shaped attacks. By the time the sun sets, several of them have thrown up, and a couple of them have passed out.

Meanwhile, Sanemi stands off to the sidelines, daughter still balanced on his shoulders, as she oohs and ahhs the display of lights and shapes unfolding before her. She squeals in delight every time her mama makes another pretty crescent moon and is so entranced by the dazzling show before her that she can't hear the screams of the slayers trying desperately avoid getting slashed to pieces.

And Sanemi has never been happier in his entire life.

Sanemi's proudest moment is when his daughter, who just hit speaking age, loudly says "fuck!" in her little, cute voice when she drops her piece of ohagi in the dirt outside their estate one afternoon. Too bad she also said it in front of her mother, and suddenly Sanemi's proudest moment also becomes the moment he learns what true fear is.

[silent-sanctum]

Hi! I'm a huge fan of your Jotaro writings, it's super refreshing to see someone else interpret him the way you (we?) do :'> Anyhow! If you still have requests open, I've had an idea rolling around; Eyes of Heaven timeline, so Jotaro is still trying to balance being a father with all the Stand nonsense, but he and Jolyne's mother are just too incompatible to work as a couple. Following the divorce, he meets Stand User!Reader and the two of them occasionally work together with the Speedwagon Foundation. After some time as friends, he starts getting caught between wanting to be in a relationship again and feeling like he shouldn't get any more people involved in his life. How do you think a love confession would go down in this scenario, and what would really push him to pursue someone he likes after all that? :D

Hello anon! Thank you for being a fan of my stuff :'D I always appreciate your lovely compliments. Helps motivate me. So, this prompt you sent is actually one that has been stewing in my mind for a while now, and you pushed me to write something out of that. Thank you for that as well ^^ This took a while to make, and it's pretty lengthy (mostly because it was an idea I really liked to explore, and I had to scrap one draft because it deviated from your prompt). But here it is now! Tags include: Banter mates to lovers, mild angst, hurt/comfort, drunken confessions Anyways, I hope you like this anon. This one's for you!

Partners - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 14.9k

What comes next after knowingly resetting the timeline? The question lingered in Jotaro Kujo’s mind for as long as he knew since the event.

After a life-altering fight against an overpowered vampire, he was given the choice to go back in time to undo one mistake in his life. For him, the answer came in the form of a memory: Of a little girl not older than 7 with space buns and a bright smile that had yet to fade as a result of his neglect.

And so he stepped back in time and inserted himself in the past, and he vividly remembered the utter joy on his daughter’s face when he stepped through the door with his luggage in hand- her small arms wrapped as much as they could around him, her excited chatter, her rosy cheeks. There, he knew that this decision was worth it.

Enemy Stand users be damned.

A few months have passed since then, and a lot has happened within that time frame, mostly stemming from Jotaro’s conscious effort to right some wrongs the way he could with the help of future hindsight. Most of the said changes were how his family would move forward, starting as early as possible at the age of 28.

His priority was always his child. Jolyne was the sole reason he rewrote reality, the guilt of being the reason behind his little girl’s miserable path to delinquency and hatred, weighing heavily in his heart that pushed and yelled at him to make amends and be there for his daughter. To not throw away the second chance he was blessed with.

But unfortunately, even if he did manage to maintain the relationship he had with his daughter before he could mess it up, the same couldn’t be said for his wife… or ex-wife at this point.

Jotaro tried. He genuinely did. The day he returned to the past and back at the doorstep of Madelyn's house where Jolyne stayed, she had greeted him with the same open arms but unlike the one with his child, he couldn’t feel the heart in him to fake the same enthusiasm back, which ended up in him giving her a half-armed embrace and a small smile.

Did anything change? He married her for a reason, right? The spark must be there somewhere… All that stormed his thoughts during the entirety of his attempts to catch up with her, to make up for lost time. He went along with her on dates (just like before), accepted her displays of affection (just like before), and somewhat returned her conversations (just like before).

Eventually, he concluded that it just wasn’t working. That “spark” he felt during his younger years was simply him looking for a semblance of normalcy, and he just so happened to latch onto the first person who wasn’t checking him out or screaming into his ear on the daily. But beyond that youthful romance, whatever fire he had for this relationship had dwindled into embers.

And he had to let her know truthfully.

It wasn’t emotionally charged nor did it hold as much resentment like it was when they ended things off at an older age. This talk was more civilized, speaking from the heart about him no longer having strong feelings for Madelyn and that she’d deserve someone who reciprocated her love the same way, instead of clinging to one that barely had any charge.

Jolyne, as he would have expected, wasn’t happy at the news, but with enough explanation from both parents, she would reluctantly have to adjust to the change. After the divorce, both he and Madelyn agreed to share custody of their daughter- she would have her from Monday to Thursday, and he would have her from Friday to Sunday. Another change from the previous timeline wherein his ex-wife had full custody of her.

Here he was now- sitting alone in his seaside villa’s manor office room, reviewing stacks of research articles and reports under the dim lighting of his lamp. On his desk were two picture frames: One was the group his grandfather formed- his friends- that banded together to defeat DIO, and the other was of Jolyne. He used to keep a frame of him and his ex, but there’s no point in keeping up images anymore.

The ring finger of his left hand never felt so bare, devoid of the silver band that used to adorn it.

Jotaro put down the pen and sighed, leaning back against his office chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. The place outside him was so quiet that even if this was what he wished for, he may perhaps have started to get used to a little bit of chatter. The silence always fucked with him, letting his head run a million miles into unwanted memories of loss and near-death experiences.

He needed to move. He needed to do something. Anything. just to keep him busy. And in perfect timing, his office telephone rang and he answered. “Dr. Jotaro Kujo speaking.”

”Good afternoon Dr. Kujo, your presence is required at the Speedwagon Foundation for another pressing Stand user case. It’s vital that you be here as soon as possible. Reception room A.”

He looked at his calendar and stared at the current day. A Monday. At least Jolyne’s with her mother today… “I’ll be there.”

Perhaps this was his fate. This was his new life and he had to get used to it: A life of doing his professional job and investigating Stand users of all varieties, all while he returned to an empty home and an overwhelming feeling of solitude. A lonely life in exchange for everyone’s safety.

Jotaro fixed his office, filing away the papers into folders before standing and getting his keys, promptly leaving his residence and getting into his car.

The drive to the Speedwagon Foundation felt like it had gotten shorter with each visit and it was almost routine by this point from the number of times he went back and forth from the place, but before he could dwell on that thought, he arrived at the familiar establishment of the private organization.

The security greeted his arrival as per usual and he nodded once in greetings before stepping inside to the meeting room told to him.

With a twist of the knob, he opened the door expecting to be met with the same agent with his glasses and folders in hand. What he was met with was not only the aforementioned man, but a woman sitting near the head of the table, wearing a pair of sleek shades and a 2-piece black cropped suit, holding a glass of red wine.

“Greetings. You’re on time.” Jotaro nodded once to him before glancing at the newcomer casually lounging in the space they were in. “Ah yes. My apologies. I had forgotten to introduce the new member to our on-field team. She’s-”

“I can handle the introductions myself, Agent Townsend,” you said with a raise of your hand. The agent in question immediately complied, his mouth clamped shut at your words. “I believe I told you that before contacting him.”

You took one more sip from your glass before you stood and strode over to Jotaro with an unsettling mix of confidence, intensity, and neutrality to your stance. You stopped a few feet away from him and allowed a quick second of silence for him to process your sudden appearance. And even he didn’t know he needed that one second of “who are you” until you did it for him.

You took off your shades and let them hang on the collar of your button-up dress shirt, staring up at him with a smile comparable to a businesswoman offering a lucrative deal. “Pleasure meeting you, Dr. Kujo.” You held up a hand to him. “Y/N L/N.”

“Jotaro Kujo,” he said in return, shaking your hand. “Though you already knew that beforehand.”

You nodded and shoved your hands back in your pockets, turning your head to the side. Without looking, you addressed the other person in the room: “You may continue with the rest of the introductions.” You looked back at him as the agent spoke behind her.

“Y-Yes. I’ll do just that,” Townsend stammered but with a cough and a clear of his throat, his professionalism slipped back on. “She’s one of the Foundation’s top beneficiaries that has been supporting us for 4 years now. It was only 2 years ago that she decided to be an active member of the organization.”

“Slight correction,” you started. “I decided to join because apparently, this organization’s leaders refused to branch out into more progressive paths, more specifically investing in improving this whole Stand investigation business. It appears you guys are short on agents dealing with this specific issue. Alas, I’m here.”

“W-Well to be fair, we can’t exactly find willing civilians with Stands who’d join our private organization-”

“I have contacted friends who also have Stands. They’ll be finalizing some local work and they’ll inform me of their transfer to the Speedwagon Foundation. I can start figuring out how to recruit for more after their adjustment.” Townsend, once again, zipped his lips shut and nodded.

“But for now,” you redirected your words to Jotaro with a light curl to your lip. “You and I will be handling these pesky Stand users. You can thank me if, at some point, you wondered why your workload in the Foundation has been halved.”

Jotaro was at a loss for words as he remained silent, staring at the new face in front of him with disbelief and confusion. This… this wasn’t the case in the previous timeline. Where were you then? Why didn’t you volunteer your services when he needed it before? Did he do something new that he wasn’t aware of?

“You…” He started. “You’ve dealt with Stand users?”

“I wouldn’t be investing my money and time here otherwise,” you said, matter-of-fact. “Nor would I be this annoyed, again, for the executives in this place for using my funding for medical use or research purposes instead of-” You cut yourself and took a deep breath. “Whatever.”

As much as Jotaro appreciated an extra hand, he had mixed feelings about having someone else help him. Stressful as his job was, at least he got used to it and managed to finish each case independently without having to worry about anyone else’s safety.

“Mr. Townsend, with all due respect, I can handle these cases by myself,” he said. “I have no doubts she has the capabilities, but my assignments are mine to deal with.”

You cocked a brow up at him and let out a drawled “ahh”. “Afraid I might get hurt, big guy?”

“I-” His brows furrowed at that unnerving guess because that was exactly it. He kept his calm and crossed his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Then I don’t know what other reason you possibly could have for declining assistance,” you said, crossing your arms as well. “Unless you’re that type of man.”

He scoffed. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You aren’t exactly giving me clear answers either.”

Jotaro glared at his supposed new “work partner,” who stared back at him with nonchalance, unaffected. If he was 11 years younger, he might’ve called you a “bitch” out of teenage pettiness or spite. Age does wonders for his patience.

Townsend cleared his throat the second time. “I apologize, Dr. Kujo, but the higher-ups have agreed that having someone to help you in the Stand investigation might garner quicker results for our research team to study.” He adjusted his glasses and continued. “The faster the Stand users are dealt with, the less you have to worry about your family being harmed.”

His family may be his top priority, but the allies surrounding him were a close second. If anything were to happen out of the blue, and you get injured or worse- “Kujo-ssi…” His train of thought halted at your sudden shift of tone. “Like Agent Townsend said, I took up half your workload and came out unscathed. He can attest that I delivered the needed results with time to spare. Trust my words when I say I can handle it. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Jotaro warred with himself on what to do, his hands clenched in his pant pockets.

“If it helps, Ms. L/N comes from a convenient background that has been useful in this field. A former member of law enforcement, and has extensive knowledge of criminology and criminal justice.”

In all honesty, it should, but whether you were skilled or not, he still couldn’t help but be hesitant. His old friends were skilled. They knew how to use their Stands, and he knew they were strong allies. That didn’t stop death from taking them regardless.

But just like him, you were stubborn and didn’t know how to back down. “Let’s compromise, then. Just one case, and you can decide whether we continue our partnership.”

“Why are you so adamant about teaming up with me?” He gritted his teeth.

“Efficiency,” you shrugged. “You’re quite popular in the Foundation, and I’ve learned a lot about your skill set and competencies. If we put our skills together, we can breeze past several cases in comparison to a slower, one-man expedition. Don’t deny it. You want assistance.”

“How about you learn how to mind your damn business?” Jotaro said, both frustrated at your adamant choice and embarrassed with himself, knowing deep down you were right. He wanted to spend time with his child, and this new timeline gave him the human incarnate of volition who could help him with this job.

You crossed your arms and maintained eye contact with him, unperturbed by his intimidation. “This is my business, and I think you should learn how to trust in others and reinvest in new win-win deals, hm?”

At that moment, his youthful bite sparked and it took a great amount of restraint to filter “You’re such a bitch” into “You’re so annoying” but of course, you smirked at his retort. “I’ve been told.”

“Should… should we proceed with discussing the cases?” In the background, Agent Townsend interrupted the two, uncomfortable with the tension in the room.

“I don’t agree-”

“Yes, we should,” you said at the same time he spoke. “I believe introductions are over, and we have yet to be briefed about who we’re dealing with.” You took your seat, and with no other say in this, Jotaro took his spot with irritation and an inkling of concern.

He grumbled to himself under his hat and muttered a quick “Good fucking grief…”

---

Jotaro could’ve gone to the next assignment and left the first to you, but damn you for pitching the idea of keeping the documents in your possession.

Their first assignment was to investigate an unusual pattern of events in Jacksonville. Details of the occurrence traced back to a shaggy man in his mid-20s who had a habit of moving from a cheap apartment or motel room to another, each place of residence he left now covered with corrosive acid that burned not only furniture but nearby civilians as well.

Usually, he would just go to the different sites that the Stand user had been through, sweep the area to gather anything that the person left behind, and work with what he had to track down the target. It was time-consuming and more of a brute force type of method, but it worked for him every time, so he never deviated from it.

You, on the other hand, took the more proactive approach that proved your background as a former detective.

You took note of whatever details he found in each site, and spoke with witnesses about what the guy was like and whether he shared details in any conversations. You coordinated with other professionals (SWF researchers, local officers, security personnel, medical staff, etc.) and gathered more intel to formulate a pattern in his path of trouble.

And in the span of three days, all the information led the duo to another rundown motel by the edge of the city. Jotaro refused to believe your tactics worked just for the sake of breaking connections with you, but when you reached the location, the place was in the process of being corroded by neon green acid, other residents fleeing the scene screaming for their lives, leaving behind the young man stepping through a newly corroded door with unsteady feet, patting his stuffed duffle bag.

Well, I’ll be damned. Your approach was faster. You spared him one glance that said “I told you” before heading to block the Stand user’s next path. He held back a groan and followed after you.

“Hey!” The man stopped and stared at you with surprise like a deer caught by headlights. His pupils were unnaturally dilated. He stood a couple of feet away from where you were. “Where do you think you’re going?” He shrank in on himself and was about to turn to the other direction, only for Jotaro to block that path as well.

“You have some questions to answer, Mr. Deville. I’d rather we talk it out like adults,” you said. “Or are you too high to even care?”

Deville snorted and pointed at the two. “Who do you think you are, huh?” He spat on the pavement. “Don’t you see all this? I made that! And I can show you more if you don’t move!”

“You’re not convincing anyone with that bravado, so drop the act already,” Jotaro said.

The young man looked at you with confusion before it warped into another snort and then into a series of cackles. “Oh, you really want to end up as fleshy goop! Okay! I can show you!”

Jotaro tensed as Deville reached into his bag to pull something out, Star Platinum ready to attack, only for a gunshot to ring into the air, followed by the guy shrieking in pain as a bullet lodged itself into his bicep. Stunned, Jotaro turned to you as you walked over to him, a revolver in hand, still aimed at Deville.

You had a gun? “Hey, a woman has to be prepared,” you said. If she had a gun, then does that mean she was just a regular Foundation agent without a Stand?

Deville gripped his bleeding arm and sneered at you. “You dumbfucks actually fell for it. Every cop does, and now you get to see my cool acid in action yourselves!”

He braced himself for the young man’s Stand ability, and he heard an audible hiss flying through the air behind them. Star was already out, ready to deflect the incoming acidic projectile. It’ll burn his knuckles and it’ll hurt like hell, sure, but he had experienced worse injuries.

However, before his Stand could do so, a shimmering wall of rose gold had zipped behind them just in time to shield both of them from the acid, taking no damage from the corrosive substance. Jotaro furrowed his brows and trailed the length of the fabric, and when he found its end disappearing into your body, his eyes widened in realization.

You had a Stand.

A SWF agent with not only the skills of a seasoned detective but also the ability to wield a whole supernatural entity.

Deville stepped back in shock. “N-No way. No fucking way. That’s not fair! How?!”

“Kujo,” you started. “You get close to him and knock that guy out. I’ll cover you by dealing with his Stand.” On cue, the humanoid blob Stand gurgled with displeasure as it quickly moved closer to regurgitate another spew of acid. With no second thought, Jotaro followed your instructions and took off as your Stand shielded you from the corrosion.

The culprit cursed and turned to flee in a panic. In response, his Stand redirected its attention to him. His heart raced as soon as he knew that the blob was after him, but before it could touch him, your Stand’s fabrics had already stretched forward and wrapped themselves around the slime and yanked it back and away from him.

He shouldn’t waste any more time. With a silent command, Star Platinum froze time, halting the world around him as he continued to sprint toward the fleeing Stand user.

By the time everything began to move, he was already in front of Deville. In a split second, Star delivered a solid jab and two before launching into its signature fist barrage. With the man rendered unconscious, his Stand dissolved back into the concrete.

Jotaro took in a couple of breaths after all that running and went over to make sure that the Stand user was out cold. “Ah damn. A bit of acid got on my sleeves. Ruined it.” You said with a click of your tongue as you joined him a few seconds after, pulling out a long silver pin from your hair clip. “Just one more thing before closing the case and reporting to HQ.”

“What are you doing?” You didn’t answer as you quickly punctured the side of Deville’s throat with the sharp steel. “L/N! What the hell?! We’re not supposed to kill-” You stopped him with a raised hand as you withdrew the pin. The wound closed in by itself, and at the blunt end of the steel, a feathered quill emerged.

“A druggie shouldn’t have the possession of a Stand. I highly doubt he’d listen to any persuasion if we simply brought him back to the Foundation.” You tucked the quill into your pocket and slid the hairpin back into your hair. “So, might as well nip it in the bud, and then send him to rehab.”

“What… the hell did you do?”

“You know the whole Stand Arrow business? How they gift lucky people with Stands?” You started. “A colleague of mine has a Stand that just so happened to procure a secondary ability to extract other Stands without harming the individual, and convert them into these inked quills for documentation.”

“So what you did was-”

“Remove Deville’s Stand. He’s still alive, too, so you don’t have to worry about him dying due to blood loss.”

“You… might honestly be a little insane.” Jotaro sighed, tipping his hat over his face. “My god, you can’t just stab people out of the blue. At least warn a guy.”

You shrugged. “Alright. I’ll admit… I forgot to tell you about my closing process. I offer my sincerest apologies.” He cast a deadpan stare at you. “Let’s contact the guys back in the Foundation so they can deal with him.” At that, he nodded. “And after that, how about we treat ourselves to a little celebration before heading back?”

“A celebration?” He crossed his arms. “Isn’t that a bit too excessive? Or too early? This is just the first case after all.”

“There’s no harm in giving yourself a reward for a job well done, right?” You smiled, eyes glinting. “Let’s eat out. I saw this small sandwich restaurant, and the selection looked too good to pass.”

Jotaro grunted in response and spent a second looking at his watch. He’s supposed to head back by now, hand in his report, and return to finishing paperwork from his day job as a biologist, but then his stomach growled at his inconvenience. It just occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten properly for the past three days. A bad habit he developed out of stress. Damnit. Damn it all. “Fine, but let’s freshen up first and we can eat.”

You cocked your head and look down at your dust-covered clothes then back at him. “Good idea. Let’s do that.”

---

“You’re that good with firearms?”

“I’m one of the top marksmen of my batch. It may or may not also be a compensation for my shit grade at hand-to-hand combat. How about you? You look built. I’m sure you’ve put your physique to good use.”

“You could say that. After all, one has to be in good shape when you have people consistently after you.”

“Hm, you’re quite resilient. I like that. It’s no wonder the Foundation likes sending you out here to do their bidding.”

“Being recognized as reliable is a huge pain in the ass though. It has gotten me feeling like a war veteran in my late 20s.”

“Touché, but some people get used to it. Perhaps even use it to their advantage.”

“People like you?” You smirked and took a sip of your coffee. Intrigued, he kept his focus on you as he drank his cup.

Honestly, Jotaro never expected anything to come out of your suggestion to eat at a small restaurant. At first, he envisioned the whole night to be awkward, loaded with uncomfortable tension, considering how you and he were introduced. Hell, he dreaded the moment you might start small talk with him just because they were work partners.

But after a change of clothes, both of you entered the sandwich shop, and you immediately accommodated him as if he were an old colleague for months instead of days, which caught him off guard.

The moment you and he took your seats, you made sure to keep the mood light by naturally launching into conversation topics that he was familiar with- Stands, the Speedwagon Foundation, a couple of experiences working for them, etc. He’s supposed to hate casual conversation like this, but there was something in the way you talked with passion and depth, and how you responded to his thoughts with equal depth that kept him engaged.

It was a breath of fresh air when most of his life consisted of him having to be mostly the receiving end of a variety of small talks (most of which had people talk about their interests and something adjacent to that, while he could only give off some sign that he was listening), or be the other half of a formal discussion at work.

He didn’t mind being a listener, but it did get annoying and lonely sometimes.

You were a rare case when he realized that he reciprocated your every thought and opinion about Stand users and the system behind the Foundation. For once, he wasn’t hesitant when voicing out his frustrations and knowledge about this whole shadow job he got himself into.

Even as your sandwiches arrived, you somehow still managed to slip in interesting topics for them to talk about over dinner and coffee. He liked listening to you.

“Huh. So, you live something like a double life, sort of? You work as a marine biologist on the daily and as the Foundation’s favorite agent for half a week?” He nodded. “Don’t you have any spare time in that tight schedule? You must’ve.”

“I’d rather keep myself busy,” he said, not looking at you. “It helps distract me from… my thoughts. Besides, both jobs require me to work full time, and, fortunately, I’m able to use intimidation to just get by and do the tasks I want to focus on.”

“As a fellow workaholic, you should at least get some time to yourself. Work with no play can lead to misery.”

“Is it?” He huffed out a poor imitation of a chuckle, empty and a tiny bit self-deprecating. “It isn’t exactly miserable when I don’t think it to be.”

“My god,” You stared at him, dumbfounded. “That’s… masochistic.” You cocked your head. “Yeah, no. I am sure I'm going to drag your ass with me to my food stops after every assignment.” He scoffed but wasn’t completely against it.

Once sandwiches were consumed, Jotaro couldn’t help but share that observation about you. “Can I just say… You do know your way of getting people to pay attention to you. It’s also remarkable you kept finding new things to talk about to someone who initially didn’t want your help.”

“First impressions are not supposed to be a judge of character.” You dabbed your lips free from any sauce and shrugged. “I’ve learned how to build rapport over the years, and from that, I don’t see why I have to keep up any hostility around you.” You smiled.

At that reply, Jotaro paused. There were a lot of things he didn’t expect from you. He was ready to just bear a night of sass and passive-aggression and go home before his ex could drop off Jolyne into his care. And yet, here he was sitting in front of a surprisingly accommodating, sharpshooter SWF agent with a Stand, wanting to listen to more of your ramblings.

With a clear of your throat, you switched back to work mode and said, “Now we had our fill, I believe we still have 2 more cases to investigate. None of which has a set deadline so we can be flexible with the scheduling.” He nodded. “Are you down to starting the second case the day after tomorrow?”

Jotaro shook his head. “I have to watch over my kid for the next 3 days. That and I have to do some work with my day job.”

You raised a brow. “You have a kid?”

“A daughter. She’s just 7, and I’ve been wanting to spend more time with her when I can.” While she still accepted and trusted her father, that is…

“I assume you hire a babysitter when you’re out and about doing work?”

“She’s with her mother,” he said. He should stop revealing more information about himself, but being with someone willing to listen to him in return had urged him to just continue spilling them out. “I arranged all the heavier aspects of work on the days she’s with her, so when she’s with me, I can attend to her more.”

You didn’t answer for a second, choosing your words right most likely, before you spoke. “Shared custody?” His eyes lowered to his plate and nodded. “With your… ex?”

There was that hesitation before the “ex”, a side of you that didn’t want to assume, but you weren’t wrong, so he replied with a curt “Yes.”

“I see,” you hummed. “Well, I don’t see a problem with postponing duties. We can deal with our next assignment on Monday, then.”

“You’re easily swayed. Aren’t you supposed to be all about dealing with the issue as early as possible?”

“Like I said, there are no deadlines set. I don’t see why I have to be an asshole about ruining your schedule.” He had nothing to say, but he was grateful for your understanding. He looked at his watch to check the time. 8:00 PM. There was still a little bit of time before they’d temporarily part ways.

Jotaro low-key hoped you noticed the spare time and waited for you to enter into another conversation, but to his disappointment, you stood and got your things in order. “It’s getting late, and I know you’re itching to go home and rest.” No… I don’t mind staying a little longer… He kept those words to himself and just stared at you with a slight furrow of his brow.

“I have other matters to tend to, so let’s call it a night, yeah?” She smiled at him. He swallowed his feelings and masked nonchalance as he stood after you with his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Doesn’t feel all that bad having assistance now, does it?”

He huffed. “I suppose the whole ‘having a work partner’ doesn’t seem too bad…”

“Then, is it safe to assume I’ll expect to meet up with you again next week for our next case, Kujo? She raised a hand to him.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he shook your hand. He can’t wait to talk to you again. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

---

“And that’s how the life of a beluga whale plays out…”

The little girl sitting on his lap pouted and looked up at her father, taking the storybook from his hands and furrowing her brows, “But Papa, how come Benny had to leave his pod at the end? Why not make friends with Blubber?”

He petted her hair with a low hum. “That’s just how nature works with species like belugas. Sometimes, there will be times when other animals are not that trusting and will hesitate to accept strangers into the group. This leads to the two fighting, and whoever wins gets to be in the group.”

“That’s so sad…”

“Did… did you want to hear a better story? I’m sorry I picked this-”

“No! I did like the story, Papa! Just like the stories of Ollie Orca and Penny Penguin! I learned a lot about the squishies!” Jolyne exclaimed, dropping the book to turn to him and press his cheeks together. “You make learning about sea animals nice!”

Jotaro smiled and nodded with a hint of bashfulness, his daughter’s encouragement never failing to make his day better. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Night had dawned on the father and daughter duo rather fast without either realizing. It took the ending of Benny Beluga for the child to realize that it was her bedtime and another day with her dad had gone by. Jotaro never felt confident in his parenting skills, but from the way her eyes glimmered at him and her smile widened with every laughter, he could almost feel proud that his efforts were coming to fruition.

Jolyne was her father’s little girl and she always made sure to remind him of that.

“Alright. You know what time it is,” he said as Star Platinum lifted the pouting girl off his lap and tucked her into bed. For Jolyne, she was used to the invisible ghost friend her father had and treated Star as her guardian angel. “Lights out, kiddo…”

“Will you stay up overnight again?” He offered a small smile and nodded. “But you always work overnight… you’re gonna get sick.”

“It’s fine, Jolyne. Papa’s used to it now.”

“But you look very sad when I see you working,” she muttered with a pout, gripping her blanket close to her. “I don’t like you being so sad…”

“I’m not. Trust me,” he said half-heartedly. He didn’t want to dump his adult issues onto his young daughter. Star handed her dolphin plushie and he adjusted the sheets over his daughter. “I’m feeling fine. You don’t have to worry about your old man because you’re here to make my day…”

“But what if I’m not here?” Jolyne pouted. “Who’s going to make you happy?

He averted his eyes and stared at his hand, still holding onto her blanket. He won’t admit it, but he could feel the loneliness start to drive him crazy. “I can manage those days.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Mama to come back and help you?”

He nodded once. “I’m sure and… I’m sorry…” Jolyne didn’t answer after that and settled into her pillow, hugging her stuffed toy, slightly saddened. He reached down to give her one more head ruffle and stood. “Get some sleep now. I’ll make your favorite breakfast when you wake up.”

“If not Mama… then can it be anyone else? I won’t mind… I swear…” He paused and looked back at his little girl, half-asleep. “I don’t want Papa to be alone…”

His heart clenched at her words. For his child to be open to him finding another partner just so she wouldn’t have to see or imagine his tired, overworked father alone, did a lot of emotional damage to his psyche, and made it hurt even more knowing that he had sacrificed this amount of love from his daughter in the old timeline.

“I have you and that’s enough for me…” Jotaro knelt one more time by her bedside and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry too much…”

At this point, Jolyne had already fallen asleep. He smiled and fixed her bangs before standing and leaving the room as quietly as possible.

---

A few months flew by, and working with you was probably one of the better decisions he reconsidered in his lifetime.

What felt like a slog to get through almost turned into a breeze with your added help. You proved to him countless times that tracking and catching criminals and suspects was your specialty. That your skills and methods worked well with his- his keen observation skills with your intuition, his grounded assumptions applied to your tight networking, his close combat prowess with your sharpshooter aim, his powerful Star Platinum paired with your impenetrable Silent Sanctuary.

Going with this rate, when 10 cases would take several months to accomplish, were finished within at least 5.

Outside of work, he surprisingly grew to like your rather no-filter, sharp attitude when he shouldn’t. It was never explicitly shared, but it was safe to say that you two grew to become close friends.

You automatically settled into a natural dynamic where he would more often follow after you while you were doing your own thing. When you had something in mind, he was there to lend an ear, and sometimes an opinion. There never was a quiet day when he was with you, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t mind the endless chatter you had. They piqued his interest, and you always had food or drink on the table whenever you had your tangents.

Then, to his unfortunate realization, he found out that all the traits you had that irked him in the beginning… were attractive. It wasn’t that the feeling brewed overnight. The moments of him stuck in his office after an assignment had left him mulling over a series of consistent interactions with the shameless agent, and how all of it wormed its way into his brain like a temptation.

Your authority and assertiveness:

”Care to answer why you chose to break the rule of ‘no stalking’?”

The former Stand user, tied up and heavily bruised, whimpered under the scrutiny of your gaze. His case involved having a Stand that was able to make him incorporeal, and with such an ability, he had multiple instances of stalking and harassing young women. But now, Jotaro doubted he would do any more harm, considering his Stand was extracted and he was under your intense interrogation.

The two victims stood behind Jotaro while everything unfolded before them and the eyes of law enforcement. “I-I didn’t mean- I only wanted- I mean- I should have-”

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and spat directly at his face, “Stop crying and talk properly, you degenerate.” You tilted your head and tugged at the strands of his hair. “Let me repeat myself in a more literal manner: What made you think it was alright to torment and stalk these ladies with such perversion?”

”I-I just wanted affection!”

Jotaro gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at the cheap excuse, more so when the girls behind him still cowered. You harshly let him go and made it clear you were not buying it either. “Pathetic. And knowing you’re married too?” You showed the man his silver ring. “You disgust me, and your wife should be too.”

One of the officers who arrived on the scene butted in. “We can take over from here-”

”No, the hell you’re not,” you snapped at him. “Not with you having the audacity to take your sweet time after these ladies have called for help. My partner and I will be dropping him off at the station ourselves and making sure he stays behind bars.”

”Now hold on. You dare speak to an officer of the law like that-”

”Girls, did I hear right that you said the cops usually disregard your calls and even heard them scoff through the phone?” You addressed the two women standing behind Jotaro, who nodded frantically. “And that he usually just lets creeps like him go for some reason?”

”We had to! There’s not enough evidence-”

”There are security cameras in the areas they went and people who saw it happen. You couldn’t go over the footage or ask anyone around? You couldn’t recognize a repeated pattern after many calls? Couldn’t you do your job better?” The cop fell silent. “Exactly. Like I said, I’ll be making sure he gets his due. I don’t care if I have to talk to your superiors, because I will if it means giving these ladies peace of mind.”

The officer bristled and turned to Jotaro. “What the hell are you doing just standing there like a bystander and letting your partner talk shit to us. You ignorant or what?”

He couldn’t care less getting berated out of the blue since it was stupid, but then, ”Hey!” You butted in, and his heart might have skipped a pulse. ”You don’t get to talk shit to him when I'm the one talking while he did nothing wrong.”

You pulled the tied man up to his wobbly legs and strode to the officers, staring them down as you shoved the man in the direction of your car. “Officer of the law,” you scoffed. “Earn your title first before flaunting it to my face just to get paid. A disgrace is what you are.” Again, the cops said nothing and avoided eye contact with you, cheeks slightly tinted with embarrassment.

Your care and protectiveness:

”You can be so reckless at times, you know that, right?”

”These aren’t that bad. I’ve dealt with worse…”

”The fuck do you mean ‘not that bad’?! You’re blood’s actively still soaking most of your clothes!”

Another case had been resolved involving a woman with a blade-based Stand. The whole investigation could’ve been better if she wasn’t neurotic and thought that everyone around her should bend to her whims. The encounter, in general, was nothing too unique in how she utilized her Stand to attack.

That didn’t stop her from landing a few deep gashes on his body when she managed to separate you from him momentarily.

But just like any other Stand encounter, he had the same pain tolerance from when he was younger and just brushed off his injuries as yet another common recurrence in his life. Even if, at times, said wounds would cause him to collapse and faint from blood loss.

And yet here you were, making sure he wouldn’t let him have another near-death experience by having him propped up against the headboard of a motel’s bed, and stripping him off his torn white coat and shirt, ripping it in some areas, if necessary. Despite feeling like he could pass out at any point, his cheeks warmed, almost feeling… shy as you exposed his skin and tended to his injuries with urgency and your classic intensity.

”You’re worrying too much. I said I’m fi-” You hissed at him, the sharp sound clamping his mouth shut immediately.

”You better stop downplaying your wounds or I might just leave you to die.” He was about to speak, only for him to wince from reflex as you poured streams of water on the large gash on his torso and the laceration up his arm. “Honestly, with the way you’re going about this, I think I’m growing more concerned you’re finding these injuries normal than the actual injuries themselves.”

Jotaro shrugged, looking elsewhere. “It is what it is. I got used to it… I even learned how to perform first aid by myself on the spot.”

”Shit,” you cocked your head with furrowed brows, your hands still cleaning his cuts with careful touches. With it still bleeding, you had Sanctuary lend her fabric to wrap around his gashes. “You call me insane, but I think you’re just as insane as I, but in a different way.”

At that, he let out an empty chuckle that sounded like a half-hearted scoff. “I don’t think resilience should be compared to being a bull in a china shop- ah!” He shut his eyes and yelped as your Stand tightened its cloth around his cuts, effectively preventing even more blood loss.

”I’m not that aggressive! Nor am I that brutish!” You said, and even with narrowed eyes, “At least say I’m like a rabid cat wrecking all her owner’s porcelain. At least I’d still look classy as I wreak havoc…” Jotaro looked down at you, and he could see your lips purse into a pout as you monitored his wounds. He could feel his lips curl into a smile. Cute… Wait.

”But that’s beside the point,” you huffed, removing your Stand’s fabrics and unfurling a roll of bandages to properly dress his gashes. “What I’m saying is that you might need further help if you’ve been this desensitized to severe wounds like these.”

”Oh? Suddenly, you’re a psychology expert?”

”No… but,” you gazed into his eyes as you tightened the bandages until it’s firmly secure, your hands holding his waist. “I am your partner. And partners look out for each other if they’re going to be together for the long run. And I’ll be damned to hell if I’m going to pretend you’re invincible or some other bullshit like that.”

Jotaro couldn’t say anything after that, speechless. If anything, his breath turned shaky when he could feel the rapid beat of his heart thumping in his chest as a swirl of emotions bubbled to the surface. “I am your partner”. He didn’t know why that struck a chord in him, but those words had formed a lump in his throat and a slight blur in his vision, even if he knew you meant it as work partners.

God, he wanted to hear that so bad…

You got up with a heavy sigh after his wounds were dressed and pulled the sheets over his abdomen. “Let’s rest here for the night and head back to HQ tomorrow. I’ll take the couch and…” You rubbed your arms from the chill and picked up his ruined coat, still stained with red. “Make your clothing still useful, I guess.”

”Don’t be stupid. The bed’s big enough for two,” he said, smoothing over the empty spot beside him. “And no, I don’t need all the space for a good night’s sleep even if I’m injured or a big person.”

You widened your eyes and spluttered with a hint of a blush on your cheeks, “You serious? I didn’t peg you to be a bed sharer, Kujo.”

The more you resisted, the more his cheeks warmed from embarrassment. He averted his gaze, turning flustered. “I’m just being practical. It’s a big bed designed for two. Might as well make use of it instead of toughing it out with my tattered coat as a blanket…” There was an awkward silence between you. “My god, just get in the damn bed already. It’s fine.”

You ended up under the covers with him, lying apart from each other. However, instead of facing away as they would’ve expected, Jotaro couldn’t help but face you, and you did the same, neither falling asleep. “Hey…” He hummed in acknowledgment. “When we’re together like this, I want you to promise me one thing…”

”… What is it?”

”Promise me you won’t hide your pains from me again. You have to tell me so I can do what I can to help you…”

He paused, his hand closing slightly from where it rested on the pillow. “And what if you can’t?”

You closed your eyes and muttered. “I’ll figure something out, but I’m not going to leave you to rot… that’s the least I can do…"

Jotaro pressed his cheek on his pillow and nodded once, his heart swelling with emotions. “Okay…”

He groaned and rubbed his face behind his hands, cheeks heating up significantly, more so remembering the day after. He couldn’t forget the second he had woken up, he found himself huddled close to you, both bodies curled against each other to bask in each other’s warmth.

What was he doing? This was dumb. He shouldn’t be thinking about this when he’s made peace with himself about being alone, and you had better things to do than to accommodate his tired ass. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but want more from the dynamic you and he had.

“Papa!” Jotaro snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at Jolyne clutching his pants, looking up at him. “You’re in your deep thinking head mode again.”

“Oh… am I now?”

“Yeah! Your eyebrows do that thing where it gets close and it looks like you’re angry, but you’re not. That type- Like this!” She demonstrated by doing an exaggerated furrow of her brow, mimicking him. “You always do that.”

“Your Papa just has a lot of things going on in his mind, alright?” He stood and ruffled her hair. “It’s dinner time. Want to help me and Star in the kitchen? We’re making one of your favorites.” Of course, she already knew that. He always made her favorite meals when she was with him.

Jolyne beamed and nodded excitedly, her fists clenched and eager. “Which one?!”

“Which do you think?”

She hummed and said the first thing on her mind. “Ramen! The one in the big bowl!”

Jotaro cocked his brow as the duo stepped into the kitchen. “Again? Didn’t I make that for you last night?” He said that, but he had already opened the cupboard to grab the flour needed for the noodles. “You know, eating the same stuff over and over again isn’t good for you.”

“But it’s yummy!” Jolyne whined, bouncing on her feet with her hands on the countertop. “And Mama always cooks the same stuff all the time…”

“Are you saying her cooking’s bad?”

“No… It’s not bad… I just like Papa’s cooking better!” He chuckled as he gathered the ingredients together. Perhaps tolerating his mother’s cooking lessons throughout his younger years paid off.

But before he could start, the home phone rang. Jotaro furrowed his brows and placed down the pork. What the hell? I shouldn’t be receiving new assignments during my weekends. He walked over and lifted the phone to his ear. “Dr. Kujo speaking.”

He listened to the speaker, and his heart started to grow heavy. “Fuck. Again? Another emergency at the facility? Can’t you call someone else?” Jolyne watches on from the background, her face already despondent when she picks up on her father’s conflicted expression. “I can’t just leave my child by herself. I’m watching her. I’m cooking her dinner for god’s sake.”

I shouldn’t be working on my weekends. Damn it. “You swear this won’t take long?”

I don’t want to leave my daughter again. Not this time. “Fine. I’m going home as soon as this problem is dealt with. Don’t bother requesting my assistance again after.” He places the phone back down.

“Are you going back to work again…?” She muttered, gaze turning downcast to her hands fidgeting with the green onions. “I really wanted to play chef with you and Star again…”

Jotaro swallowed the rising guilt in his throat and approached his daughter, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his. “This won’t be one of my heavier duties. It won’t take long. It’ll only be for a few hours. I promise.”

Jolyne pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry because she was a big girl now. “B-But what about dinner? You were supposed to make dinner with me…”

“I know. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He looked at the nearby wall clock and cursed to himself. A babysitter was an immediate solution that came to mind, but he saw his fair share of those people, and he refused to put his only child under the supervision of some teenager who’s only in it for the pay, especially for parents as wealthy as him. Calling his ex was also out of the question. It just made him uncomfortable.

Leaving only one person in mind, though he doubted it would work out.

It took him by surprise when 30 minutes after he sent the text, of him trying to figure out alternative solutions, the doorbell rang. He opened the door, and you were there to greet him casually. “Hey. You have impeccable timing to text me just as I was finishing up my meeting with my company’s human resources committee. Hope I didn’t take too long.”

I thought you were too busy even to bother, but you came… “No, you didn’t.” He stepped aside for you to enter.

Jotaro watched you look around the house. “The Foundation wasn’t kidding when they said the Joestars had money.” You set your bag on one of the couches in his living room. “Spacious, a mix of modern West and traditional Eastern design, and I can imagine it must be scenic when it’s daytime, having it by the sea. It sets a nice ambiance for your home,” you said. “I like your style.”

His cheeks flushed at the compliment. “It was mostly thanks to my mother. I don’t pay too much attention to that kind of detail.” He shrugged. “My daughter loves it though, so I’m glad that worked out in the end.”

“Oh! Speaking of your daughter, where is she? May I get to know her?”

Jotaro nodded and left for the kitchen to bring his 7-year-old girl to you. She wasn’t the type to be shy around strangers, and to you, she merely tilted her head and stared at you with curious eyes before looking back at him, confused. “Y/N, this is Jolyne. Jolyne, this is my work partner Y/N.”

You squatted down to level with the child and smiled. “Why hello, Jolyne. It’s nice meeting you.” Jolyne watched her with wide eyes, never once breaking eye contact, even as you offered her a hand to shake. “I heard you’re quite adventurous. I feel like you and I will get along just fine.” She grabbed your hand with both of hers.

“Y/N will watch over you while I’m out,” Jotaro said, petting the little girl’s head. “Try not to cause too much trouble, alright?” Jolyne furrowed her brows and bit her lip, still upset that he had to leave, but she nodded reluctantly. He patted her shoulder twice before standing to prepare.

He sighed and went to retrieve his bag and car keys. “I appreciate you coming over. I owe you one…”

“We can talk about that when you get back. You handle your business first,” you said.

He nodded once. “Alright. I won’t take long.”

---

You saw him off as he drove to work and closed the door behind you. “Okay. Let’s see…,” You muttered to yourself. “It’s dinner, so I should deal with that first.”

Stepping into the kitchen, Jolyne sat on one of the island stools, holding onto the box of flour among the many other ingredients on the counter. She caught you staring and waited for what you had planned. “Planned to cook with your dad, huh?” She nodded. You rolled up your sleeves and approached the counter. “What was on the menu?”

“… Ramen,” she muttered. “I was supposed to help him make a big bowl, but he’s back working late again…”

“Well, we can still make that big bowl of ramen if you want.” Jolyne looked up at you with wide eyes as you examined each ingredient your partner had left. “Of course, it won’t be on par with your dad’s recipe, but I promise mine won’t be too bad. Is that fine with you, young lady?”

Jolyne puffed her cheeks and hummed, giving it a thought. She pouted and crossed her arms. “It’s fine because I’m hungry.”

Aside from the given ingredients, you looked in the cabinets and fridge to check what else was there to use. “Your dad stocked up a lot of food,” you commented as you took in the number of produce, meat selections, and spices in his kitchen.

“Mhm! Papa said it’s all for me!” Jolyne exclaimed. “He always makes sure to have plenty of food for when we cook together with Star!”

You smiled at the thought of this big, scary man preparing meals for his energetic little girl, with a bulky purple ghost helping him out. “That does sound lovely. Say,” You plucked a couple more ingredients from the fridge. “Would you like me to prepare some side dishes to go with your ramen?”

She tilted her head. “Won’t that take too long?”

“We can multitask together, Jolyne,” you said with a cheeky smile. “Because like your dad, I also have a friend who can help us with dinner.”

Jolyne’s eyes sparkled. “You do?!”

To show off to the little girl, you had your Stand simultaneously grab several items, utensils, and equipment with its many fabrics and let them hover around her. If you could recall correctly, to his daughter, Stands were invisible, so all she saw now were floating objects. She watched them fly about with childlike awe, her smile wide and infectious.

You chuckled and went over to the aprons you found hanging on the wall. “Ready to make a delicious bowl of ramen?” You handed her the smaller apron, and with renewed enthusiasm, she nodded with a determined smirk.

Over time, you two hustled and bustled around the kitchen, helping one another to put together a savory meal for both of you. While you did more of the heavier parts of the cooking, you taught and supervised the child with the lighter ones, and she was more than eager to listen, happy to just be involved. Silent Sanctuary assisted in handing you and Jolyne what was next in the recipe.

Of course, you weren’t one to make the scene settle into awkward silence. With a similar approach you used on Jotaro, you opened up a conversation topic that might trigger the young girl to start sharing her interests. At first, you talked about her favorites while preparing to simmer the broth and braise the pork belly. By the time you began plating the dish, it was Jolyne’s turn to open up about your work and what you did.

You entertained her questions and kept the conversation light and digestible for a child when talking about your job that involved catching bad guys with her father, all while you proceeded to do the side dishes next. She listened to your many stories with full interest, butting in at times to fire a multitude of questions.

By the time everything was done, Jolyne was more than happy to chow down on her dinner. And you watched the little girl scarf down your meal, making a mess on the table and on her face. You shook your head with fond amusement, grabbing a tissue to wipe everything down. “Well? How do you like my recipe?”

With stuffed cheeks, Jolyne spoke with glimmering eyes. “Yummy! Just as yummy as Papa’s!”

“That’s good to hear. If your father asks me to watch over you again, I can show you more dishes that taste like the ramen we made. Sounds good?” She nodded vigorously.

After swallowing, she wanted to talk more about your profession. “So, you mean the bad guys also have invisible friends to help them do all that bad stuff?”

You hummed in agreement. “That’s why your father and I have to work so hard to fight these people. Because getting rid of them makes the world feel safer for innocent civilians like you.”

“I want to be like you and Papa when I grow up!” Jolyne mimicked a boxer’s stance and jabbed the air once. Twice. Thrice. “It also sounds fun! I want to kick their butts and show them who’s boss!”

“Fighting these bad guys isn’t a game, Jolyne.” You grabbed another tissue to wipe her cheeks. “They’re dangerous and can cause big wounds. I may not mind it that much, but your father hates dealing with them because it’s that tiring.”

She puffed her cheeks again and furrowed her brows, her spirited determination flaring once more. “Then… I want to help him! I want to learn how to fight and help Papa so it’s not tiring!”

“Well,” You chuckled. “If you’re older and able to have a ghost friend to help you fight, then you can find me and I can take you under my wing and help you with that.”

The little girl widened her eyes and smiled widely. “Really?!”

“You have potential, young lady. With enough experience and exposure, I have no doubts you can do so much not only for yourself but for your father as well.” You huffed. “But then again, that’s only when you have a ghost friend. So, I can’t guarantee it would happen.”

“I’ll find a way!”

You smiled. “Of course you will.”

The rest of the evening was spent with the two engrossed in a non-stop conversation about each other’s lives. When Jotaro had told her that his daughter was too much of a curious kid, he wasn’t exaggerating. While watching her favorite shows and taking care of her, Jolyne would begin to open up more and more, wanting to know more about her father’s colleague and the job you and he found yourselves in.

She was a sweet child with a soul that yearned to explore the world, and you admired the young girl’s youthful energy. It wasn’t long until you grew fond of her, wishing nothing more than to help her reach her dreams and guide her along the way.

Likewise, Jolyne would grow a liking for you. You knew how to make delicious food, you were invested in her many ramblings, never once annoyed by the number of questions she’d ask, and she found you cool and fun to be with in general. And when you said about potentially returning to babysit her, she’d rather want you than some other babysitter.

Eventually, the night would come to a close, and you tucked Jolyne to bed after telling her one of your bedtime stories from memory, handing her favorite plush toy and drawing the sheet over her. “Do you sleep with the lamp on or off?”

“On…”

“Okay,” You said, gently brushing her hair. “Get some sleep. I’m sure your father will be here to make you breakfast when you wake up.”

“Can… you marry my Papa?”

You froze, your cheeks heating up as she muttered those words in her sleepy trance. “Huh?”

“Papa’s sad… when I’m not here… I don’t want him to be sad…”

You thought back to the times you spent with him post-case, where it was supposed to be two colleagues taking the load off their shoulders and unwind with a simple talk, and in the midst of all your talk with him, there was a consistent pattern of Jotaro purposely making his day job and personal life vague, often dismisses it even if the topic wasn’t being intrusive.

It wasn’t out of character for this man to do his work diligently, but there was something in the way he spoke about himself that sounded…defeated? Like he gave up on something he wanted when he was younger. You picked up on this, and his child did as well.

And as much as it shouldn’t be your problem, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to let your work partner wallow in self-imposed suffering.

But for Jolyne to ask a suggestion so casually caused you to reflect on yourself and your feelings towards your colleague. Was this whole support each other supposed to just be an obligation as partners? Or did you actually feel something for him? You had a genuine interest in the guy, found his subtle mannerisms and underlying values endearing, the times when he did smile and chuckle at your words sparked pride and joy in your conscience…

“I am your partner.” You had said that to him, and in the moment, you hadn’t thought too much of it, but in retrospect, you found out how that sounded more intimate than it should have. Just like the time he had offered to share the bed with you in the guise of practicality.

You turned back to Jolyne, who had fallen asleep during the entirety of your introspection, and sighed.

“We’ll see how all this will turn out, little one…”

---

One night. One night of undesirable circumstances was all that was needed to get some answers from him.

You finished yet another investigation and took him out to a quaint, rustic bar not too far from their target’s location. There weren’t many people occupying the area, except for the handful of loyal patrons and nomadic tourists who were in for exploring niche places. After battling with another non-compliant Stand user, both of you needed some peace of quiet.

The bartender stepped in to slide you both glasses and placed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine and a Jack Daniel’s whiskey for Jotaro. “I assume you can handle your liquor well, hm?”

He made a low sound as he poured himself a drink. “I’ve been making sure to dial down my alcohol nowadays and stick to caffeine. But… I did like beer during my youth.” He sighed. “Tonight? I just had to… pour myself one for now…” He took a shot.

You nodded, pouring for yourself as well. “During your youth, huh? Are we talking early 20s? Or I-hit-18-and-I’m-legal-to-drink-now age?”

Despite the tiredness in his eyes, his lips quirked up into a slight smirk. “A year before that…”

“Underage drinking?” You cocked a brow and sipped your drink. “How bold of you. Got curious?”

“Not really. It was mostly an act,” he said as he poured another shot. “I was a teenager. I had to look cool and so… did some rebellious crap that I stopped once I graduated: Be an asshole, smoke cigarettes, and drink beer to show off. That stuff…”

“You must have been a pain to everyone around you in your rebel days, huh?”

He kept his gaze on his glass and replied, “In a way, I still am.”

Your chest had a minor pang at that, but you kept that to yourself and held your head in your hand and looked at him, dubious. “Mm, doesn’t seem like it. Sure, you still got that menacing vibe around you, still stoic obviously, but in all honesty, you’re not all bad. You seemed mellowed out and definitely a better person than I.”

He scoffed and took another shot. “Shut it with the flattery.”

“It’s called a compliment, Kujo. Offering flattery isn’t in my dictionary,” you replied in that playful tone you’d use. “Here I thought you knew me already.”

“Oh? Was I supposed to study you, L/N?” You shrugged as you finished your first glass. “Are you implying that I should start analyzing my colleagues now?”

“Keep your friends close. Your enemies closer.”

“You’re not my enemy.”

You stared at him with mischief. “I might. You never know.”

He paused for a moment, and for the first time today, Jotaro huffed out a soft laugh. “Cheeky, but fine.” He shot another glass. “Since you’re so goddamn persistent, I’ll play your game.”

And it all snowballed from there. Unlike most instances of you being the instigator of your conversations, he was the one who asked the questions. You told your answers and hurled the question back at him. From one question would stem many more, and both of you would lose yourself in a night of GTKY and alcohol.

It hadn’t occurred to you immediately, but you hadn’t noticed that hours had passed until the bartender told you they were closing in 15 minutes. On your side of the counter was an empty bottle of red wine, and on his side were 2 empty Jack Daniel’s.

Jotaro leaned heavily on his elbow, holding his head that was on the verge of dropping face-first onto the counter. You furrowed your brows and lightly nudged his shoulder. “Hey, are you doing okay?” You always thought he could handle his alcohol just as you could, but his sluggish movements combined with the flushed cheeks told you otherwise.

“Okay?” He scoffed, smiling bitterly behind his hand. “Hardly. None of what I’m doing feels okay. Can’t even drink damn alcohol now. I’m just getting tired of it…”

“Oh my god, you’re drunk.” He shook his head, slurring something about how he wasn’t and he was just sleepy. You thanked the bartender for his services and stood to approach your colleague. “Alright, big guy. Let’s get you back to your place.”

You managed to get a good grasp on his arm and, with some effort, not crumble to the floor as you hauled him off the bar stool and on unsteady feet. His arm remained slung over your shoulders, his head lolling to the side and hanging low. “I need you to cooperate with me here.”

“Why bother helping me?” He said, groggily. “I can go home by myself…”

“Ahuh. Sure, you can.” You fumbled around in his pockets until you fished out his car keys. “I’m driving, though.”

You half-dragged Jotaro out of the bar and out onto the sidewalk where his car was parked nearby. He stumbled along with you, often wobbling to the side and occasionally pulling you with him due to his weight. He continued to slur out complaints and proclamations about how he was fine, that he just felt sleepy, and he could drive fine.

“Don’t be stupid, Kujo. You gulped down more whiskey than you intended. You’re drunk and I’m not.” You heaved and readjusted his arm around your shoulder. “It’s obvious who should be behind the wheel tonight.”

“I can do everything by myself!” He said, his muddled voice rising with tired frustration. “I’ve always handled my shit alone! Leave me!”

You sighed. “We’ve talked about this months ago. No backing out of an agreement now.”

“I don’t want to burden you…” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him. His head still hung low, cheeks flushed red. “All this Stand bullshit is all his fault. All my fault. I should fix it. I need to fix it…”

“Hey…”

Jotaro raised his head to look at you with squinted eyes and tight brows. “And I don’t know how. Isn’t that a fucking joke?” He laughed an empty laugh, his head leaning heavily on your shoulder. “My successes and for what? More stress? More attention? More ruined relationships? I can’t even be with my own daughter properly without my day job draining all my spare time down the drain.”

“And who needs friends when they all just leave and die in the end?” You stayed silent as he continued, his ironic chuckles now bordering on despairing sobs. Not quite on the latter yet, but even then… it still hurts to hear. He pressed his cheek to your shoulder and smiled at you with dull, wet eyes. “You chose to be with me and now tell me- when will you leave for greater things, or better yet… when will you die, hm? ‘Cause I’ll still be here, just ready to soak up all these bullshit feelings.”

Despite the uncharacteristically excessive and pessimistic talk, you knew there was no insult to his drunken speech. You knew what you were capable of, and your Stand’s primary ability prevented you from suffering any injury, and Jotaro knew that too. He wouldn’t have agreed to continue partnering with you.

When will you leave? When will you die? It was as if he was already bracing himself for the inevitable to lessen the pain. To expect the worst so he wouldn’t get his hopes up and get hurt when it comes.

He lazily pulled his head away from your shoulder and hung it low again. “Now, if you really want eff… effa… efficiency, you should just ditch me… and work on other projects-”

“Shut up and get in the car.” You didn’t know when you started walking while he continued to ramble into the night, but you did and found yourself standing beside his car. You opened the passenger’s door and nudged him to get in.

“I can-” You hissed at him, and he nodded. “Okay…” He begrudgingly stepped into the vehicle, bumping his head a little by accident on the car roof, and you closed it after he settled in. You walked around, entered the driver’s seat, started the ignition, and drove off.

The road back to his place was silent. You chose to keep the radio silent, thinking it might just irritate him. Throughout the trip, he remained slumped on the car door, half-asleep and the other half gazing out the window to watch the world pass by them under the evening sky.

Once you arrived, you parked the car accordingly and got off. You made quick work pulling the drunken man out of the passenger’s seat and dragging his ass through his front door. Struggling to get both your shoes off was one thing; getting him up the stairs was another challenge in itself. Eventually, you managed to reach his bedroom and dropped him onto the sheets. He went down easily enough like a toppled, semi-conscious tree log.

You exhaled a sigh of relief that you got to deliver him back to his room in one piece, but you didn’t know what to do next. Should you just leave him be? Or make sure he was comfortable enough? He groaned and used whatever energy he had left to rub his eyes, grimacing from how shitty he must be feeling.

Next thing you knew, you had already made up your mind. You rearranged his body and limbs so he lay properly with his head on the pillow and his feet on the foot of the bed. You paused in your caregiving and took a seat on the edge, sparing a few seconds to just watch him.

Jotaro might as well be already asleep by the time you get him on the pillows. You didn’t know the exact details of what you thought, but there was something about how he seemed more vulnerable when he was in his slumber. There was no trace of that stoicism he always had on, nor any of the more focused or sharp aspects that made him professional.

Instead, in his vulnerability, there was the defeat- his relaxed brows, the shadows under his eyes, the sad tilt of his lip, the subtle glint of a tear or two in his lashes. “How much did you have to suffer…? Since 17?” Your heart ached for the man whose life changed for the worse, where his attempts to make it seem normal just didn’t work. “You never wanted to be a part of this, huh?”

Without realizing it, you reached forward to brush aside the short curls off his forehead. “If you’d let me, I’d take over most if not all of your cases. Use the time for yourself.” He furrowed his brows and leaned his head into your hand. With a newfound sense of worry, you softly pet his hair. “You don’t have to shoulder everything on your own…”

Of course, he was asleep. He couldn’t have heard you. And he was still in his work clothes, which must be uncomfortable to sleep in. You leaned forward to lift his upper body so you could take off his white coat. And you did just that and pulled him up to lean him against you.

However, as you pulled the coat down to his biceps, you stiffened as his arms encircled you in a warm embrace, and his face buried itself on your shoulder. “K-Kujo! What are you-”

“You… mean that…?” He mumbled. “You’d… help me… that much?”

Your eyes softened. “When have I ever lied?”

“We’re partners… who got each other’s backs…” He gently tightened his arms around you and nuzzled closer to your neck, needing comfort. “Being your partner… was the best decision I ever made… in this new life…”

The tension in your body left, leaving only an immense amount of empathy and fondness for him. You returned his hug with a hand around his back, and the other cradling his head. He sighed shakily at the reciprocation. “I’m sorry… for being selfish… but… please…” He whispered. “Don’t leave me… alone…”

“I won’t…” You pressed your cheek on his and held him tighter, combing through his curls. “You know I won’t…”

As if he were reassured, his arms dropped limp onto the sheets, and his breathing evened out. You glanced down at him and confirmed that he had passed out. You returned to your task and pulled the coat off his body, and with that done, you eased him back on the sheets, got him comfortable, and drew the duvet over him.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said under your breath. “Otherwise, I would’ve just dropped you off and left. You know that, right?” Jotaro remained asleep, turning his head slightly to the side. You contemplated what to do next as you kept watching over him, idly petting his hair.

An idea struck, and it was an impulsive one. But you already said you liked him. Was it that impulsive? What’s this going to matter anyway?

You stood and bent down, getting close to face. You gently cupped his cheek and thumbed the skin before leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead. He didn’t respond, obviously, but your heart did. Once you slowly withdrew, your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and your cheeks significantly grew three times warmer.

A hushed curse fled your lips. “Oh my god, what am I doing?” You stepped back and walked over to his drawers to find the nearest pen and paper. Keeping it short with a few words, you left the note on his nightstand before taking your leave and letting him rest.

Something came to mind just then. At that, you glanced one more time at him before heading out to do one more thing for him when he wakes tomorrow, already getting the pen and paper for a new note.

---

Jotaro woke up to a splitting headache.

Other than catching the Stand user red-handed and going out with you on one of your dine-outs, he could not for the life of him recall what happened last night. One moment he’s invested in talking with you on the topic of shorelines, and the next, he’s sitting upright on his bed in the same clothes with a throbbing head.

But it occurred to him that you were also there to witness whatever the fuck he had done during his lapse of memory. He held his face, groaning as his cheeks warmed at the thought of your fellow no-nonsense colleague watching him act out without inhibition.

“Good fucking grief…” He tossed his legs over the edge of the bed, and before he could stand, the savory aroma that wafted into his nose and the neon yellow sticky note standing out on his nightstand grabbed his attention. Looking over at it, the note was stuck onto a covered bowl of… soup? Sitting beside it was a spoon and a bottle of water.

He plucked the paper off the lid and read:

Rise and shine, lightweight!

I’ll have you know you were heavy as hell when I dragged you back here.

And no, you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of me. That’s if “being cute and sleepy” isn’t embarrassing.

Anyway, I left some hangover soup and something to hydrate yourself with. Just heat it when you wake.

I’ll drop by sometime tomorrow for updates, but in the meantime, take the time to freshen up.

Y/N

That warmth in his face intensified after reading it, setting the note aside and holding his face with both hands. “Cute and sleepy…” He scoffed. I shouldn’t have drunk that much whiskey. Never drink with others again, Kujo. Stick to caffeine.

Jotaro reached for the bowl and uncovered the lid, revealing a nicely made homemade beef broth soup. Even though the contents had turned lukewarm from being left overnight, it still smelled good. He grabbed the spoon and took a sip of the dish, and a soft moan was made.

Damn. It tasted good too, and to think that you made this for him? Jotaro’s cheeks would remain heated throughout breakfast.

He got into his morning routine right after he finished heating the soup and consuming all of it in a few minutes. He brushed, showered, got into new clothes, and stepped into his office to accomplish some pending tasks yet to finish for the upcoming research program.

Though he couldn’t fully focus on his work when all he could think about was not only the headache mildly being a nuisance, but also you.

He lost count of how many times he’d stopped writing or typing the second his brain flashed him a memory of you smiling at that bar, chuckling at an unintentional one-line he uttered with the faint blush on your cheeks, or you caging his bigger body against the wall earlier that day to protect him from an incoming projectile, or when you gazed at him under the dim moonlight of that motel room as you lay beside him on that bed-

He put down his pen for the nth time and leaned back on his chair, palming his heated face in frustration. It didn’t help that his heart would start to run a marathon at the mere thought of your snarky and unbothered banters, your face that had the right amount of audacity, and the number of your genuine caregiving gestures that never failed to set the butterflies in his stomach aflutter. “I am your partner.”

And you planned to visit him again within the day. How the hell is he supposed to compose himself when his feelings for you have gone awry?

With the devil’s timing, the doorbell rang in the middle of his attempt to get himself together. He schooled himself into nonchalance and headed to the front door, bracing for whatever physiological effect his body would brew at the sight of you on his doorstep.

Jotaro opened the door, and you greeted him with that smile that bordered on a smirk and a small wave. “Hey,” The butterflies flew wildly almost immediately, and his chest was on the verge of bursting. Yet his face remained neutral, save for the faint blush on his cheeks.

“L/N… You’re here.”

“I did say I’ll be dropping by today,” you said as you pulled out three folders from behind your back. “With updates. Remember? Unless you completely missed my note, then surprise! We have updates.”

“No. I got your note… and the soup.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “We should discuss this inside.”

You nodded and took off your shoes before entering his home. “By the way, how’s the hangover? Was it as bad as I assumed?”

He followed you into the dining room, tipping his hat over his face. “It’s nothing new, but it’s painful as hell. I can still feel it until now,” Jotaro grumbled and continued with heated cheeks. “But the soup helped… if that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“Just as I thought. I brought you a hangover relief drink to help with the lingering aches.” You placed the folders on the dining table and pulled out a small glass bottle with white and orange labeling from your bag. “This is newly imported, by the way. So, the effects should be at their best.”

Jotaro swallowed and nodded, reaching over to get it off your hand without looking at you for long. He gestured for you to take a seat, and out of the many empty seats, you settled for the one that was adjacent to him. To be fair, it wasn’t that close to him, but it was the nearest.

He fixed you a serving of the tea he had left in his cabinet, and you began detailing all the progress notes the Foundation had sent about the caught Stand users and their Stands- From how they reacted when they woke up in confinement, to present user background, down to what their choice was moving forward after being apprehended.

Unfortunately for Jotaro, he was still hung up on his newfound realization that he felt some way or another toward you like a dam of denial and denseness had been demolished. While he did listen to every piece of information you said, he’d chalked up half of his attention to the way you spoke with dedicated professionalism and the way your eyes glinted and lips smirked whenever you were pleased sharing a piece of intel.

His body’s physiological state is going haywire yet again, and his head throbbed. He uncapped the hangover cure and drank the tonic in a feeble attempt to distract himself from the irritating ache and his thoughts. And if it couldn’t get any worse, he drank too fast and ended up choking in front of you.

“Woah, hey now. You okay?”

Jotaro coughed behind his hand and nodded, waving a hand to dismiss your concerns. “F-Fine. Just choked is all.”

You chuckled and closed the folder to set aside. “Maybe slow down when drinking any other beverage that’s not water. That technique always helps prevent another choking episode.”

His cheeks flared. “I know that. I’m not stupid, L/N,” he said and cleared his throat. “I was… busy thinking.”

“Busy thinking?” You smirked, leaning on your elbow with your head in your hand. “Or distracted with something else?” Jotaro glared at you and grumbled to himself. “About last night, perhaps?” That… and the many other things about you. None of that was said, but did he even have to when you already knew?

At his self-imposed frustration and bashfulness, your teasing smirk softened into a smile. “Believe me when I say you didn’t do anything stupid last night. Well, to me at least. If anything, I felt privileged when you showed me a window into who the man responsible for DIO’s defeat was. A sneak peek into who Jotaro Kujo is now.”

He remained silent, watching you with a somewhat touched expression on his face. “And I found that brief moment of vulnerability fascinating and worth knowing.” His heart raced a million miles per hour the more you shared your thoughts. The playful gleam was still in your eyes when you continued. “There was nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I…You…” Jotaro was at a loss for words. What could he say? You telling him this was enough for him to shy away from your gaze in a mess of tinted cheeks. He’s aware of what he needs behind the walls of nonchalance and outward strength, and for you to learn said needs because of several shots of whiskey?

It was almost overwhelming. “You were never meant to know all that. They’re just… wishful thoughts.”

“And what if I said I can help make those thoughts real?”

He paused and stared at you with surprise. “What… what do you mean?”

“Let me rephrase that.” You sipped the warm tea and set it down, your smile still on. “I’ve said we’re work partners, and that we should always have each other’s backs, through thick and thin. Even if we met under ordinary circumstances unrelated to work, I think I’d still hold the same sentiment toward you.”

“Your reservation and stoicism can be frustrating, yes. But looking past that,” You swirled the half-full cup and tilted your head to him. “You are a delight to be with, in all your subtle acts of service, sudden bouts of humor, and fierce loyalty to those you hold dear.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Jotaro Kujo, and if you allow it, I’d want to get to know you more.”

His eyes widened. All air had left his lungs from your casual confession, blood rushing to his cheeks as every organ in his body went into ecstatic overdrive.

He genuinely had nothing to say, stunned to silence. He had spent the entire morning- no, the past few months battling with his feelings about whether to act on his pining toward you, or toss it away so you wouldn’t feel obligated to tolerate the dangers that came from being with him.

Every moment of overthinking, insecurity, and unwarranted pining… washed away with that simple sentence.

At his lack of response, you chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I… ah…”

“Here… let’s put it this way then. How about, for one time, I take you out somewhere nice for dinner? Then you can decide if you want to continue our partnership,” you said, just like the first time he had met you. “Sound good?”

“Good grief. Here I thought I’d be the one initiating, but…” From the depths of his heart, his lips curled into a smile, and he softly laughed behind his hand. “Always the professional, even when asking me out on a date, huh?”

You laughed with him, a faint pink tint blooming in your cheeks. “Old habits die hard. You don’t seem to mind though.”

He shook his head. “No… I don’t.”

You held out a hand to him, your palm open for him to hold. “Well? I’m still waiting.”

Jotaro looked at your hand for a minute. There were still parts of his mind that kept whispering to him about being a burden to you and how he’d only be led to more suffering when the inevitable threats would strike you down. But your determined eyes and the passionate fire held within them responded to his anxieties with a firm:

“I can handle it. Trust me and I’ll protect us.”

At that, he huffed and smiled as he reached forward to hold your hand, his chest surprisingly light. “I didn’t regret accepting to be your colleague. I don’t think I’ll regret this either.”

“Then…” You smiled and gently held his hand with both of yours. “I’m looking forward to being your partner, Jotaro.”

He returned the sentiment with a smile and nodded once. “Likewise, Y/N.”

[laukoslovergirl]

Butterfly Fly Away

Pairing:  Jeremy Swayman x Reader

Warnings: angst, lost love, sick parents

Summary: You and Jeremy had big dreams. 

word count: 2.4K

Author's Note: i've had this idea for a while. this shit is sad so please be aware. I’m sad so i guess i’ll let y’all finally have this.

In another life. In another life we hadn’t met in Alaska. In another life my dreams hadn’t been so big and unachievable. In another life I was the one who got to leave. In another life we left together. In another life we fell in love in a place where we could both succeed. In another life my mother wouldn’t be sick. In another life I wouldn't be so sad, angry, and anxious. In another life he was mine forever and always. 

You were no stranger to the pain and the fear. Your mom had been sick since you were around 5. Around that same time you had started kindergarten, and met a small boy with the sweetest smile and the most gorgeous brown eyes. He had made all of the pain and the fear and the anxiety not feel as insurmountable even at the age of 5. You had been so thankful all your life from that point forward of the small boy with the sweet smile and gorgeous brown eyes. As you grew up together in the wild of Alaska, you began to become inseparable from elementary school to middle school. When he asked you to be his girlfriend the summer between 8th grade and freshman year, you had prayed and prayed that you could keep him for all of your time. 

~ Kindergarten ~

“Hi,” he said, sitting down in the grass with you. “Why are you over here by yourself?” 

“I’m picking daisies for my momma” you said with a small frown.

“Can I help?” he asked with a smile that made you smile. 

“Okay” you nodded. “I'm hoping that if I gather enough when I go see her today she can show me how to turn them into a crown.” 

The boy scrunched up his nose. “How do you turn daisies into a crown?”

“I don't’ know” you mumbled and shrugged your tiny shoulders “but my momma does it and i want her to show me” 

You guys sat in the recess field for the rest of your outside time picking daisies and accumulating them in the front pocket of your overalls. “I’m Y/N” you said after the bell rang you both got up to go back to class 

“My names Jeremy,” he said with a bright smile, “I'll see you tomorrow. Y/n” 

Your mom had eventually taught you how to make the little flower crowns you had loved so much. You tried and tried but had little patience for it and didn't pick up the knack for making them until well into your fifth grade year of elementary. 

~ Fifth grade ~

You sat in the field like you most usually were, book in hand but mostly preoccupied with thoughts of your mom who was sick again. You had attempted to distract yourself with the book, but it wasn’t working. You had noticed the daisies and dandelions in the field around you. You plucked them trying to accumulate the ones with the longest stems. You started on the crown trying to slow your racing thoughts of your mother and how small and frail she looked back in the hospital. 

“There you are butterfly” you heard his voice call. “Should've known better to look anywhere else” 

Your best friend since kindergarten and now rather tall lanky young boy plopped down next to you. You gave him a soft smile that barely met your eyes. 

“Whatcha got there?” he nodded to the almost complete crown in your hands. You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts and breathing in the proper way to attempt to lower your anxiety. You hadn’t noticed that you had finally gotten in almost completely done. 

“Your crown for being the bestest friend in the world” you laughed at the way his nose scrunched at your grammatical error. 

“Are you coming to the rink after school?” he asked, It was a Wednesday and Wednesdays were hockey practice free for the young boy but he liked to get in some practice and work on his skating. 

You shook your head, you hadn’t told him about your mom being back in the hospital yet. Saying it made it a reality and you wished you could avoid it for as long as possible. Your best friend had noticed the way your hands hadn’t stopped moving, playing with the flower crown, since he had sat down. He had especially noticed the way your face fell at his question. 

“Is she bad again?” he asked softly, grabbing your hand. Casual affection had always been his thing. Hugs all the time to any friend. A winning goal and good play on the school basketball court. You nodded your head looking away from him and out through the field.

“It’ll be okay, butterfly. Your momma’s really strong, she'll get through it again. You’ll get through it again.” he said, watching you softly. Big brown eyes filled with so much love for his best friend. 

He was right, she was a strong amazing woman. But you were eleven and terrified of losing your mom. Another cancer diagnosis was on the horizon. This one more terrifying than the last. You understood it now, you wish you could go back to being five like you were with the last diagnosis. The ignorance that came with being so young, not completely understanding how sick your mom was, and how real it was that you could lose her. 

~ Eighth grade~ 

It was gonna be a great year, your mom was healthy. You were about to be a high schooler. You were dating your best friend, your favorite person in the whole entire world. You were laid out on the bank of the river, you were supposed to be fishing with him. Which you had done earlier but right now you were just appreciating everything you had right now. You mom, your dad, your best friend, his family, the sunshine on your skin, the river rushing next to you. 

“What do you want to do when you're older you asked him?” laying back on the towel listening to him in the river 

“Hockey. Hockey is the only path I will expect for myself” he said with a soft sigh and came to sit next to you on his towel. “What about you butterfly?” 

“A doctor” you smiled at him. “That is the only path i will except for myself, i’ve wanted it since the first time momma got sick” 

“Look at us as ambitious as ever,” he smiled, looking down at you. “Any thoughts about where you wanna go to college yet?” 

“Any place that will give me a scholarship and keep me close to you” 

~ Senior year~

Your mom was sick again this time, leukemia. It would break his heart almost as much as it would break yours, but you couldn’t go. You had to stay. You had no clue how long she had. You had no clue if she could beat this one. You couldn’t ship off with him to Maine and the other lower 47 like you had been dreaming of. You didn’t know how you could go on without him. Over fifteen years of being his best friend and taking on all this together. You didn’t want to hold him back. As much as you wanted to get out and live your dreams. They were nowhere in reach. His on the other hand were right there, he had been away playing for team usa in juniors and you knew in your heart that he would make it to the NHL. His dreams would become reality. Yours on the other hand were drowning under anxiety, medical debt and the love for your mother. She wouldn’t be happy with you backing out of school, and doing what you loved. You would make it work. You’d go to community college online to get  a degree at least, get a job and help your dad with bills and your mom and whatever you could. You hate that it cost you him, but when you love something sometimes you have to let it go. It was his last day of a quick trip, to watch you graduate, and you had to do it now or do it over the fun when he was back in the lower 48 for the draft. It was late at night just you too in the backyard next to the fire under the stars. Peaceful silence, he had just finished telling you about a hike he took in south dakota while playing there. 

“Jer,” you said softly, moving out of his arms to sit facing him. “I can’t go to maine. Mom’s sick again, and dad needs me here. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left and missed out on time with her.” 

Tears started filling your eyes. You looked up at the sky trying to blink them away. 

“Hey it’s okay i understand. We can do long distance. This will work Butterfly, we can make it work. I love you so much y/n/n, it’ll be okay. Your mom will be okay. I know it.” his hand gently caressed your cheek wiping away your tears and forcing your eyes to meet his. You shook your head softly and bit your lip. 

“I think we should break up” you choked out tears flowing faster. 

“No y/n you don’t mean that” he said with a sad smile on his face. “We can and we will make this work. You gotta give it a chance. I’ll make it big and I can help take care of you and your mom and your dad and eventually you can have your dreams come true. Come on y/n/n we can do this” tears had started brimming in his brown eyes. 

“I can’t do this Jeremy. I don’t wanna hold you back. You’ll be out there busy with hockey and school and life. And I'll be here busy with my mom and school and working and my dad. Please Jer let’s not drag it out. I love you so much, and when you love something sometimes you have to let it go to prove that it’s yours.” 

“Stop that’s silly, I am always yours. I will always be yours. You know that, I know that. I have known that since i was five years old in a field at recess, please” He had tears flowing free now. You hated this. You felt like you were dying like the light and air was being stolen out of you. Like the world was disappearing out from under your feet. “This isn’t what you want, butterfly please.”

“Of course it’s not what I want,” you said, standing up exasperatedly. “I want to love you for the rest of my life, I want a healthy mom, I want to be a doctor so I can fix what’s wrong with her. But it's what we, It’s what I need Jer. I need to know that you're out there living your life to the fullest. That i’m not here holding you back. Please just please this is what’s best” tears were streaming down your face. 

“Okay” he said with a sigh. “If that’s what you want then okay” he stood up. Wrapping his arms around you as you broke down in his arms both your bodies shaking with the pain and tears. “I love you” he mumbled into your hair, placing a kiss on your head. You tried to say it back, through choking sobs but his arms were gone from around you before you could get them out.  Alone in your backyard you sat down on the grass near the firepit, fingers playing with the grass. “I love you too” you whispered to the darkness. 

It was hard but you kept living. His absence left a giant hole in your heart, but it slowly got better. Here you were 4 years later, you had gotten your associate's degree. You were working your ass off, trying to help your mom and dad pay bills and debt and save enough for you to eventually get the degree you really wanted. It was crushing weight that made your chest feel heavy. You never thought you were ever gonna get there. 

Eight years later from the initial leukemia. Eight years since you let Jeremy Swayman go. You could see your mother slipping away, you knew she did not have much longer. Here you were in the hospital room with your mothers small frail hand clasped in yours. There was a soft knock on the door. 

“Come in” you said softly, a nurse walked in with a large bouquet of flowers. 

“These were just delivered.” she said, setting them on the counter on the far wall.

“Is there a card?” you asked, getting up, pulling your cardigan tight around you. 

“There are several,” she smiles softly. Leaving you in the room with the soft beeping of the monitors and your mom’s light breathing. You sighed, grabbing the cards. On was addressed to you and one was addressed to your mother. You opened the envelope, finding a full letter and a check for 3,000 dollars. 

Butterfly fly away.  I signed a really big deal the other day and had some money to spare. Don’t hate me for it, butterfly. You never could’ve held me back. Go live your dreams. I paid off your mom’s bills and would like to pay for you to go to school. Become a doctor y/n i will always believe in you. I love you.   Forever and Always,  Jeremy Swayman. Ps. the check is for whatever you need to get to wherever you want to go to school and whatever else you may need. When you need the tuition money give me a call. 

Tears were streaming down your face. You were aware of the deal he had signed. It's all any Boston fan could talk about let alone any one in town. He was the town’s pride and joy. You couldn’t believe eight years later he was still thinking of you let alone wanting to do something this big. You had thought he had a girlfriend, she was a strong woman if she was okay with this. You needed to call your dad, you needed  to tell him. You needed to figure out what you were going to do. Where you were going to school you would never pass this up. If you couldn’t have him, maybe one of your dreams could come true.