#but nope let's make her suffer a bit more

[chaifootsteps]

It’s honestly baffling that Blitz has a laundry list’s worth of things that he’s actually got to make up for, but few situations they choose to elaborate on and hold him responsible for… are the ones where he’s hardly at fault. We already know the Stolas situation to hell and back, Stolas takes advantage of him, Blitzø fights back, Stolas gets upset, blah blah blah, so let’s focus on Seeing Stars, mainly the subplot between him and Loona.

So, when we first see them, Loona is beating the absolute shit out of her dad for having the GALL, the utter AUDACITY to… politely suggest that she be a bit more involved with her job. Okay. And when she suggests that if she doesn’t like her attitude to just replace her, Blitz stands his ground and says that he just might, upsetting her further. Episode continues, and while Blitz is being nothing but gentle towards her, Loona’s still growling at him and flipping him off. Then we get to the end, where Loona goes on her spiel about how dads mess up but they’re trying, and you’d think that’d give her enough self reflection to sit down with her dad and talk things out, right? NOPE! Blitz comes running to apologize to HER for insinuating that he MIGHT replace her if her workplace performance doesn’t improve, when he’s been as patient as patient can be with Loona being an absolute terror for no good reason, and what does he get out of it??? Kicked in the balls and shoved in the face. Okay, Show.

If I’m gonna see this guy suffer in the name of comedy, I want it to be because he deserved it, like some sort of karmic punishment, not because he’s done nothing wrong and Viv wants to make him suffer. Because watching characters get shit on for existing isn’t funny, it’s just mean spirited and sad.

It's true...a whole show's worth of actionable things Blitzo's done wrong and they always, without fail, focus on the things he hasn't and always without fail insists that he deserves physical abuse for it. He was right to say what he did to Loona and he wasn't the slightest bit mean about it.

[tuiyla]

that infamous ryan murphy quote about how quinn was supposed to be this unsympathetic mean girl character to me and dianna “ruined” that is crazy to me because the poor girl finds out that she’s pregnant as early as season 1 episode 4 😭 and proceeds to get knocked down by life nearly every single episode after for the remainder of the first season. dianna did play a large part in making quinn so likable and sympathetic (in the following seasons especially but even just in season 1 also) but even just her character on paper kind of makes your heart ache for her. she’s only 15/16 years old, gets pregnant under some dubious circumstances, loses so much in the process, is kicked out of her own home and disowned by her father, bounces from place to place to live until actual angel mercedes steps in, struggles with the hardships of teen pregnancy and the decision of what she wants to do while literally being 15/16 years old. and of course she makes her fair share of mistakes along the way, she’s by no means perfect. she’s a bully when we first meet her and she lies to finn about him being the father. but my god i don’t know how you couldn’t not feel bad for this child, dianna and her wonderful ability of making quinn likable to watch onscreen aside.

We're doing it we're answering asks, let's goooo

That said an ask about the infamous Ryan Murphy quote has been sitting in my inbox for about 4 months at this point oops haha, but we'll answer one at a time

Cause girl! That's what I've been saying! Like, regardless of what RM actually meant when he backhand complimented Dianna I truly believe that this bitch didn't consider how sympathetic Quinn was bound to be and he's so wrong for that. There's no way you can have a character go through as much as Quinn did, on a show like Glee that ostensibly champions the downtrodden and not have her be sympathetic. I truly believe that three male writers didn't think people would feel for Quinn as much as they did in that situation. Which is bonkers because was she cruel towards Finn? Sure, but even Beth's conception itself is so dubious like we've covered before. But even IF Quinn was just some cold-hearted calculating whore who wanted to hurt Puck and Finn and everyone around her, she's still a 16-year-old pregnant girl who gets disowned. Come on! How the fuck am I supposed to feel more for Finchel's "tragic" inter-social (i.e. high school) class relationship in the face of that. Fuck relationship drama, this girl is h o m e l e s s and pregnant.

I really feel like the message of Glee throughout Quinn's pregnancy storyline up until the point Quinncedes happens is that Quinn... had all the hardships coming. That she deserved to be knocked down a peg. Only it happened through her getting knocked up and it's super messed up that the show pretends she's anything but a victim. Who the hell cares that she's bitchy. Who the hell cares that popularity is important to her. Newsflash assholes, it's just as important to out supposed heroes. Lmao I get so mad about Quinn's treatment. And this is why I can't in good conscience get behind people who say s1 is Quinn's best and that the pregnancy storyline was done well. No it wasn't. It decentred her whenever possible and wasn't in the least bit sympathetic if not for like, a single scene in Ballad and from Home on. And, of course, if not for Dianna. RM should be grateful Dianna did her thing with Quinn cause framing your arguably most tragic character as if she had it coming just because she's a bully at 15 is not a good look. But that's a recurring thing for Glee, ain't it. The more I think about it the more I believe Quinn and Santana's treatment re: pregnancy and outing are similar.

Quinn is a walking talking, but mostly crying tragedy. It's frankly disturbing that for some time they cling to this idea of her being irredeemable when she's just a mean kid playing into the same system everyone else does, too. But she happens to be on top and schadenfreude is real, I guess. Except it really wasn't for me there was no part of me that felt any justice in what Quinn went through. And guess what? Neither did Rachel. And I don't think Rachel is meant to represent the audience's perspective when she shows Quinn kindness in season 1 but alas, she does. I don't trust no bitches who don't feel the same.

[dolche-tejada]

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he have Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best he could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[star-girl69]

After Midnight

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: flirting with the star hockey player at the frat party isn’t what you would normally do, but it’s after midnight and something about the lights is making everything a little hazy.

feel free to send requests!!! 🫶🫶

a/n: GUYS PLEASE. PLEASE IGNORE THIS. i’m sorry i’ve betrayed all my morals… but i cant sit idly by while my fellow kk lovers suffer… i hope you all enjoy!!

After Midnight - Chappell Roan

warnings: not proofread!!!, ALCOHOL!!! we are in a FRAT people!!, some swearing ofc, super brief barely there mentions of violence and such, kk is taller than reader by like an inch suck it idc i do what i want, super brief mention of y/n having hair (length unspecified), idk like a bit of kissing and some somewhat suggestive thoughts… y/n is a freak 💔, i’ve never flirted with anyone before how do you do this, so probs inaccurate, i don’t know anything about hockey just prefacing this, i also don’t know how college works rip, as chappell roan said: “i love a little drama, let’s start a bar fight, cause everything good happens after midnight”

—-

“Shit, babe, you look fuckin’ hot.”

This entire night is almost painful for you. Stepping out of your comfort zone on any level is always an adjustment, but trading your early nights in with homework and Netflix for a sexy dress showing everything in all the right and wrong places- is especially hard.

You almost cringe touching the velvet fabric of your revealing dark red shirt, staring at someone in the mirror you don’t even recognize.

“Jackie,” you mumble to your best friend and roommate, “I think it’s.. too much.”

Jackie tilts her head to the side, short dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. She’s only humoring you, you can tell. “Nope. Perfect.”

You look at the pictures stuck in the slats of the mirror. Pictures of you, Jackie, and the other girl in your trio, Tyla, faces pressed together in bright smiles from various adventures from your freshman year at college.

It was such a relief when Jackie was the sweetest girl and an amazing person to share a dorm with, but when she brought along her best friend Tyla from a few doors down- the three of you fell into a quick and beautiful friendship, like the ones in the movies.

Jackie and Tyla were definitely more on the party girl side than the study girl side, but that was what was so great about your friendship. You reminded them that they did in fact have homework, and they pushed you to do things like this every once in a while.

This was the first time you had ever suggested it. Midterms were over- it would be wrong to not celebrate. To breathe in the few seconds you had left as a freshman, before it all got turned up again for sophomore year.

“Okay,” Jackie breathes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Take a deep breath, babe. The fit is a lot, yes, but it’s gorgeous. I mean, damn, where have you been hiding that ass?”

You bite your lip, eyes tearing away from the pictures, meeting Jackie’s eyes in the reflection.

“My ass does look really good,” you concede.

“Hell yeah it does!” Jackie shouts, smiling brightly. “Don’t be nervous, okay? It’s just some random frat party. We can go sit outside if it gets too much.”

It’s break. It’s Friday night. You look good, however uncomfortable you are.

“Fuck,” you mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m just gonna do a few shots when we get there.”

“That’s my girl.”

Jackie thinks for a moment. “Besides, I think it’s a party to celebrate the girls hockey team winning a game, or something like that. The attention is gonna be far away from you. But…”

She trails off, picking at a piece of thread hanging from her comforter.

“What?” You ask, heart jumping to your throat in fear.

“Dylan might be there,” she shrugs.

Ugh.

Dylan.

Dylan wasn’t even that big of a problem, just a boy you had overzealously dated right when you got to college, when you were adjusting and still kind of lonely, only to find out his obsessive, stalker-ish personality was literal hell to be in a relationship with.

After maybe a week of constant love-bombing and clinginess, you broke up with him- and he tried for literal months to get your attention before he finally seemed to give up.

Once in a while, you’d see him at these parties, and he’d stare at you in a way that was probably supposed to be sexy, but was only weird and uncomfortable.

“Who gives a fuck about him?” You ask, your own surprise reflected in Jackie’s face.

“Damn, girl. Yeah, you’re fuckin’ right. Who gives a fuck about his sad ass?”

“I don’t,” you scoff, refusing to let him ruin your night.

The bathroom door slams open suddenly, revealing Tyla in an even more revealing black dress. Skin tight with cut outs showing her dark skin.

“Jesus Christ, I pity the other girls at that bar.” Tyla runs her hands down her sides, smiling brightly in a way that can only be joking.

And you laugh, and you laugh when she softly bumps you away from the mirror and admires herself even more.

—-

Because of this rash decision to go out, Tyla hadn’t done her usual shopping for the pregame so you were forced to go to the party early- which Tyla actually groaned at and complained about how “embarrassing” it was. But after a few shots, that embarrassment fell away and she was back to being the funny, confident girl you knew her as.

You talked amongst the three of you, and with the two boys who were acting as bartenders, until more and more people slowly started filing in and the sky got dark. It was probably close to 10pm by the time the party really got busy, and those first two hours faded into a montage of alcohol stinging your throat and the sounds of your best friends laughing.

When the hockey team finally arrived, you were sitting on a couch with your girls, Tyla talking in this played-up sensual voice to a random boy who had taken an interest in her, while you and Jackie were busy scouting out the new arrivals and the different kinds of alcohol they placed on the table.

Even if Jackie hadn’t off-handedly mentioned it earlier, you quickly would have found out who this party was for. A large group of girls walked into the party, immediately met with cheers and shots, swarmed with alcohol and congratulations.

Some guy, probably one who actually lived in this house, whipped out a shitty megaphone and shouted their arrival, but it wasn’t even that loud.

Even you, however studious you were, knew about the girl’s hockey team. A bunch of them had played on the Olympic team a few years ago, and all the students of this D1 school were generally pretty proud that the Wisconsin team had won the most national championships.

Most of them were wearing their jerseys, but a few had dressed up. The girl’s hockey team was probably the hottest, most talented group of girls to ever be within 100 feet of you.

It was almost unfair how all of them were so beautiful and so talented, but you suppose that the rigorous workout schedules of Olympic and national athletes didn’t leave a lot of room for anything other than a fuck ton of muscles.

God, half of them towered over you and all of them could probably break your wrist with just a flick.

It was impressive.

What was most impressive, though, is the way the infamous Caroline Harvey walked in carrying about 27 cases of beer, which must have weighed as much as this fucking house, and effortlessly set it all on the ground beside the table full of red solo cups, chasers, and bottles of vodka.

Cheers rang out and people scrambled towards it, ripping the cardboard boxes open greedily and opening them just as fast.

You watched, hiding your parted mouth with your hand, as Caroline accepted an open beer from someone, cheers with a few of her teammates and drank a long sip. When she was done, she laughed and lifted her shirt to her mouth to wipe off some stray liquid, a movement that let just a sliver of her toned abs peek through.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, quickly looking to the floor and deciding hockey was your new favorite sport.

You knew her from around campus, you both liked to study in the library at the same time- around 3 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it became kind of tradition to just stare at her for a few minutes in between sections of your work. Almost like some weird little reward. You did feel kind of bad about it, but fuck, there was no way you could stop.

Besides, it’s not like she noticed.

You always sat on opposite sides of the library, and she never once even looked in your direction. What Caroline didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and you never see her unless it’s at the library or in passing at parties. But, God, doesn’t it feel good to just relish in how beautiful she is and stare for just a bit.

“Y/N, babe.”

Jackie knocked herself into you, her knees tucked up to her chest, some sort of a smile on her face.

“What’cha doin’?” She asks, smiling in a way that can only be described as evil. “Starin’? Hockey player pique your interest, huh?”

“No,” you say, forcing a laugh into your voice and rolling your eyes. “Just lookin’ at all the commotion.”

You’re trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but now that Jackie’s mentioned it- those abs did pique your interest. And now they came flashing behind your eyes every time you blink.

“Oh, my God, I think I’m in heat,” you mumble, slightly to yourself and slightly to Jackie.

She wraps a lazy arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “Oh, sweet girl, don’t worry. I’ve got you. Which one is it?”

“Caroline,” you mumble, so quiet and so sudden before you can really think about it.

Jackie hums, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t know a whole lot about her, but I heard she had a girlfriend freshman year, so definitely into girls. Not dating anyone right now, though. Olympian, hockey player, all that sexy stuff.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you mumble, sneaking a quick glance and then looking away immediately when she takes another sip of her drink, not wanting to know what would happen if you caught another glimpse of those god-sent abs.

“You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Jackie asks, nudging your head with hers.

“No, no,” you dismiss. “Just… being a freak. Admiring. God, I’m pathetic.”

Jackie laughs, abruptly standing and pulling you to your feet too. “Come on, babe, time for more drinks, let’s get your mind off of this if you’re not gonna make a move.”

You roll your eyes but follow her to the table of drinks farthest away from Caroline and the other hockey players. You’re not going to do anything, it’s not like you have a chance, and you’re just bored without schoolwork to occupy your every thought.

You take a deep breath, standing next to Jackie and surveying your options. Jackie choses for the both of you, definitely the more experienced party girl, mixing a drink that is majority vodka, making you groan slightly just at the thought of it.

“Here you go!” Jackie smiles, placing the red solo cup into your hand, smiling like she’s not trying to give you alcohol poisoning. Her gaze fixes on something behind you, and you faintly register the way her eyes light up- already a little tipsy from the few shots you’ve done- but you can’t even be bothered to question why.

You eye your drink suspiciously, mentally preparing yourself for the taste.

“Whoops,” Jackie mutters, and you look up at her only to feel her push you back.

“Jackie-” you start, angry, and she quickly scurries away from you. You want to kill her a little bit, at least question her- but you don’t get the chance to.

You gasp as you slam into someone behind you, drink splashing all over your front, alcohol mixing with the rich velvet texture of your shirt in a way that might very well ruin it. You bite your lip, glancing around the room, grateful that the room is so crowded and busy that no one noticed.

“Damn Harvey, knockin’ girls over on and off the ice,” someone laughs. You think you hear the sound of someone lightly hitting another person, followed by a small “ow.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

You turn around, Jackie nowhere to be found, and completely freeze when you realize not only did the person you slammed into have enough decency to ask if you were okay, but that person was fucking Caroline Harvey.

You would have laughed at how cliche it was if you weren’t so secretly exhilarated. The only reason you even had this drink was to stop shamefully staring at her.

But she’s right in front of you… and she looks even better like this, cheeks slightly flushed already from the alcohol, a glint in her eyes.

Her eyes meet yours, staring at you in obvious confusion and concern- “Hey? You okay?”

She places her hand on your waist and you suddenly return back into your body, looking anywhere but her eyes that were literally fucking drowning you.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I’m fine. I’m just, like, really drunk.” You laugh, awkwardly, trying to pretend that you’re talking to just anyone. Trying to pretend like her hand on your waist wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

She smiles, Jesus Christ that fucking smile, your knees go a little weak.

“Oh, good. Would be a shame if that pretty head got a concussion.”

You laugh, staring at her smile. Intoxicating. It’s the only word that comes to mind- maybe enchanted. She’s like some drug, and, God, it’s so stupid but you think you might be addicted after hearing her voice just once.

And, the suddenly, so vividly you almost fall over again, you realize what she said to you.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, effortlessly taking the now pretty much empty red solo cup from you and placing it on the table behind you, wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to what you assume is a bathroom, probably where she was originally going. “I’m Caroline, but you can call me KK.”

Your mouth is slightly agape as she leads you through the crowd, and you suddenly pass by Jackie who gives you a big smile and a thumbs up- disappearing into the crowd before you can curse her name.

Fuck it. She’s right in front of you. The alcohol is getting to your head, the dim lighting is making everything hazy- everything except her pretty blue eyes and her intoxicating smile.

“KK,” you say, testing the nickname. “That’s cute. I’m Y/N.”

“That’s cute,” she echoes, and the way you can hear the smile on her voice seriously makes you almost fall over.

Thankfully, the bathroom she leads you to is kind of out of the way, it’s completely empty and the door clicks behind the two of you.

Your mood immediately deflates when you see yourself in the mirror, your top noticeably darker where sticky alcohol has sunk into the fabric.

“Fuck,” you mumble, peeling the sticky fabric from your skin.

Before you can even think to do anything, Caroline- KK- is running a random hand towel under the sink and gesturing to you. You expect her to hand it to you- but she doesn’t.

“Okay if I touch you?”

God in Heaven.

“Y-yeah,” you choke out, feeling your world literally recalibrate when she puts her hand on your shoulder- so fucking close to your neck- to keep you steady. You always thought it was the stereotype that basketball players have big hands, but apparently hockey players do too.

Her hand is really warm. This bathroom is suddenly really warm. Your cheeks are heating up, and as much as you try to tell yourself it’s from the alcohol- you know it’s not.

“Sorry,” she mumbles after a few more seconds. “I don’t think this is gonna do much. Maybe try putting it in the wash, though.”

You sigh, now turned sideways, hip to the bathroom sink, looking at yourself out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine, my friend… bumped into me, and then I backed up straight into you. Not your fault.”

You look up at her, realizing at this close proximity that she’s taller than you, maybe only an inch.

“I might just go home,” you sigh, feeling kind of disgusting in this nasty shirt.

A frown immediately forms on her face.

“Party’s just started, though. Can’t go home yet, baby.”

She wants you to die. She literally wants you to die. She’s secretly an assassin, and you’ve blocked out the memory of some horrible crime you’ve committed, and now she’s here to kill you by calling you baby and having the sexiest abs you’ve ever seen.

Not a bad way to go, though.

“Here,” she says, reaching up and tugging her jersey over her head, again revealing those fucking abs, and she’s left in a black tank top you didn’t even notice the first time you were staring at her abs. “Take my jersey.”

“Oh, no. I can’t, KK. I mean…”

“I was getting hot anyways, it’s good. Take it.”

It’s nicer quality than any other jersey you’ve ever touched before- nicer than the obligatory Wisconsin sweatshirt you bought at the school store.

You cough, taking it with a hand that shakes slightly, not able to look at her.

“…Thank you,” you say after a moment.

She smiles, big and goofy. “It’s no problem. Maybe you can repay me by having a drink with me, though?”

You pretend to think about it, but really you have to knock your knees together so you don’t fall to the floor in excitement.

“That’s a pretty good price.”

You finally meet her eyes, holding your breath as she stares into your eyes like they’re a lifeline.

“Yeah, a drink with my sexy self- pretty good fuckin’ deal.”

You laugh, and she takes a step back, looking you up and down in a way that literally gives you butterflies-

“I’ll let you change,” she says. “Come find me when you’re done, yeah, baby?”

“I’ll find you,” you breathe, turning around to start slipping off your shirt so she doesn’t see the way you literally bite your lip.

The jersey is huge, since they have to be to cover all the padding and gear hockey players wear, and you’re almost worried that you’d look really stupid in it- but your jean bottoms pull it together, somehow.

It smells good. It smells dark, like a forest, still with a hint of something fresh and light. Is this her perfume? You might want to bathe in it.

You still look pretty good, and your mind races, wondering if KK would compliment you in it- but someone bangs on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?!” Jackie. “Y/N? Holy fucking shit- did I just see what I think I saw?!”

Tyla quickly shouts too. “I got dragged away from a really hot guy for this!! Please tell me it’s true!!!”

You open the door wordlessly, holding your hands out wide so Jackie and Tyla can see the the jersey, the Badgers emblem.

“Ladies, hold your applause.”

“What the fuck!” Tyla screams, forcing you to turn around, then tracing a finger along your back, no doubt where Caroline’s last name is printed on. “Harvey. Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“God, she’s so hot,” Jackie groans, and you whip around to shoot her a glare. “Calm down, jealous bitch, I mean this is hot. Fuck, does she have any friends? This red is a good color on me…”

“Well,” you smile, mirroring Jackie’s own “evil” smile from earlier, “She said to come find her and get a drink. With her.”

“A drink…” Tyla breathes. “With… fucking Caroline Harvey?”

“Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“I think I might faint from, like, secondhand hotness.”

“Well,” Jackie starts, looking away from the jersey in awe and back at your face, “You look hot. Go over there right now, get that girl, and make out. Just- right on the couch. Fuck right on the couch.”

“I second that,” Tyla smiles, adjusting the jersey slightly. “Fuck her.”

“Okay, shut up, thanks. We’ll see where the night goes.”

“Oh, my God, I can’t even believe you’re doing this. What happened to my little studious best friend?”

“Alcohol,” you shrug, momentarily wondering if you would regret all of this the next morning- but everything is just so goddamn hazy in this frat house, and you can’t think straight, can’t think about anything other than her.

“Okay, okay,” Tyla says, grabbing your shoulders and staring into your eyes like she’s about to gift you with the greatest wisdom. “You want her to come back?”

You inhale sharply. “Maybe.”

“Okay, well, if this goes good- you gotta leave her before midnight.” She glances at her watch, “It’s 11:06 right now, flirt her and romance her, all that, but leave before midnight, got it?”

“Um… why, though?”

“To keep her guessing, to keep her thinking about you, obviously,” Tyla rolls her eyes. “Trust me girl. We’ll meet you outside at 12 and then take an Uber back, right?”

“Right,” you and Jackie both repeat.

“If you really want her, before midnight, okay?”

“Okay, okay, Tyla. I’ll meet you guys then?”

Jackie pretends to wipe a few tears away. “My girl’s all grown up.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hugging both of them quickly before disappearing into the crowd of people.

—-

You make your way towards a big couch, some armchairs, and a coffee table filled with liquor.

KK’s eyes light up when she sees you, and you notice there’s a conveniently placed empty seat right next to her, and two cups in her hands.

You don’t think anyone has noticed you wearing her jersey yet, and if someone has commented on KK’s lack of jersey, you can’t tell. You smooth it down, take a deep breath and plaster a smile on your face.

A seductive one, you hope, one like Tyla would do. And with the way she mirrors your smile with her own- except this one is just as big and goofy- you think it’s working.

“Y/N?”

Someone walks past you, then immediately stops and steps back, looking right at you.

“Yeah-?”

Oh.

“Hi, Dylan,” you mutter, smile falling from your face immediately.

“Y/N. I haven’t seen you in… forever, it feels like. How’ya been?”

“I’m fine, Dylan. I’m sorry, I’m meeting somebody, okay?” His face falls, and you feel sort of bad, so you add on “Talk soon,” to make yourself feel better.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your arm, eyes moving from yours down to your outfit. “The fuck are you wearing? A jersey?”

“…Yes,” you say after a moment, genuinely confused until you remember how much Dylan despises sports, thinks they’re all just some popularity contest. “Okay, I’m meeting someone. Bye, Dylan.”

“Hi,” a new voice says, and you smile just a bit when you realize it’s Caroline. “I’m Caroline,” she says, ever-so politely, and it kinda makes your stomach twist. “Are you a friend of Y/N’s?”

Dylan’s eyes narrow at her. “No, I’m her ex.”

“Oh, my God,” you mumble to yourself, stepping close to Caroline. “Shut up.”

KK shoots you a look, and you can’t help but avoid your eyes. You tug your arm away from Dylan, but he doesn’t budge.

“Dylan, please,” you sigh. “I have to go, okay? Let go.”

“No, Y/N, come on-”

“Uh, I think she said let go, buddy.” She still has that same smile on her face, but your eyes flick to her exposed arms, now noticing just how much muscle is there too. There’s this glint to her smile, this edge to her voice, and you would genuinely be kinda scared if it was directed at you.

“This doesn’t involve you,” Dylan huffs. “Y/N and I need to talk- why the fuck are you going around trying to purposefully piss me off? You know I hate sports.”

“Dylan,” you start, genuinely having to take a deep breath. “We dated for a week in freshman year. Let go of me, stop embarrassing yourself, and stop talking to us.”

He stares at you, before scoffing and letting your arm drop. “You’re such a fucking bitch.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Thank you, Dylan, goodbye.” You turn around, wondering if KK is even going to be there anymore. “I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is his problem?” She says, and you genuinely smile at the pure disgust on her face. “Seriously- what?”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle. “It’s just… you’re so, disgusted by him.”

“You aren’t?”

“Well, yeah. But I know him.”

“And I’m sorry for that. I met him once and I never want to meet him again. Weird fucking bitch.”

You laugh again, linking your arm through hers without thinking. “Thanks for trying to defend me, though. I’m sorry- he’s just… an annoying bug that won’t go away, normally he doesn’t talk to me- but I guess he was bored tonight.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I think we lost the seats I saved.”

You look towards the couch, now completely filled with hockey players. “It’s okay,” you hum. “We can find somewhere else. Wanna go outside?”

—-

With the hum of the party behind you, and the stream of people walking out and walking in, the little bench on the corner of the porch was shrouded in darkness, and you felt like you were just in your own little corner with KK.

You sipped on the drink she had gotten you, exchanging basic information like what majors you were taking, how many siblings you had, and al that boring stuff before she finally stopped talking and just looked at you for a moment.

“What?” you asked, wiping some of your sip from around your lips.

She smiles. “Nothing. My jersey just looks nice on you.”

“Oh,” you say, stupidly. “Really? I was worried it didn’t get the same vibe as my original fit.”

“No, I would say you look even better.”

You smile, taking another sip for confidence before you place your hand on her arm. “So, tell me about hockey. Maybe workout routines?”

She laughs. “Workout routines?”

You softly squeeze her bicep. “Well, you don’t get these by just sitting around, do you?”

She takes a sip of her drink, trying to slyly cover her face, and you smile even wider.

“No, you don’t.” When she looks back at you, there’s the faintest hint of something on her cheeks, you don’t move your hand, sinking back into that addiction of making her blush. “Mostly lifting weights, cardio, boring things.”

“M’kay, what about actual hockey? I heard you were an Olympian, right?”

She flexes her other arm, and you can see a tattoo made up of the Olympics logo, intertwining rings, on her inner bicep.

“I’m defense, number 4, and I’m basically the star of the team.”

“Really?” You laugh, pressing your thigh against hers. “Would your other teammates agree with that?”

“Ehhh, maybe don’t ask them so you stay all impressed.”

You smile, and suddenly you realize you’ve been smiling all night ever since you started talking to her. And it feels so good to smile with her, it feels so good to be all giddy, and even when Dylan was bothering you it felt good knowing she was right behind you. And it felt even better when you turned around and she was still behind you.

“Can I have your number?” You blurt out.

“Course, baby.”

You hand her your phone, feeling like a damn middle schooler with a raging crush, and she hands you hers.

You make your contact name Jersey Stealer and she laughs when she sees it, and that sound might be your favorite thing about her- second only to her abs.

You can feel the night coming to the end, but it’s a good end, a comfortable one, and there’s definitely doors unopened and words unsaid. It feels like a really sweet beginning to something really beautiful.

You check your phone, smiling at the contact name of Hockey Star and seeing the time is 11:58.

“My friends are waiting for me,” you say, almost with a grimace. The night is coming to an end but you still don’t want it to end. And like clockwork, you watch as Jackie and Tyla walk out of the party arm in arm- sneaking subtle glances all the way to the end of the driveway, eventually disappearing out of sight behind a tree.

“Oh,” she says. “No problem.”

She sounds disappointed. It makes your stomach twist yet again, to know she doesn’t want this to end as much as you do.

You both stand up and walk to the edge of the porch, down the steps and onto the concrete walkway to the driveway. Somewhere along the way, your hand had slipped into yours.

You stop where concrete meets driveway, turning around to face her. She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of her skin on yours. It feels like an electric rush, like an addictive high.

“I’m really glad I give you a concussion.”

You laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t either.”

She looks from your lips back to your eyes, and you’re suddenly reminded that, yes, kissing exists- and you suddenly want to kiss her. Badly.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you go.”

You softly place your hand on her face. You lean forward, placing your lips in a grey area between her cheek and her lips.

“Goodnight, Caroline,” you whisper, an inch away from her skin.

Suddenly she surges forward, lips fully pressing against yours, hand on your waist, and God does the feeling of her lips on yours feel so good, so right.

Oh, God. She’s succeeded in killing you, you think to yourself- everything fading out for a moment before it all comes rushing back in. The sounds of the party, the chill of the nighttime air, and the sweet sweet feeling of Caroline’s lips on yours.

You don’t think your lips will ever recover from this feeling, from the weight of her lips on yours- you’ll always be chasing this feeling, this moment.

Tyla’s words flash in your mind. You revel in this moment for a heartbeat longer until, just as quick as she kissed you, you pull back.

“Didn’t know you were the type to kiss girls on the first date, Harvey. How scandalous.”

She seems disappointed you pulled away. You can see it in her pretty blue eyes- it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.

“Are you really just any girl?”

“Nope,” you smile, silently thanking Tyla and every star in the sky- you can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to kiss you senseless, and if the game didn’t feel so good you would have let her.

And the way she’s looking at you, slightly blown away, completely in awe, lips parted but curling into a smile- it gives you an addictive rush.

“Text me when you want your jersey back.”

You take a step back, softly prying her hand off of your waist, but holding onto it for a moment.

“Oh, no, you can wear that to my next game.”

“Really?” You smile, fingertips grazing the back of her knuckles as she tries to hold onto you, but you eventually let go. “You’ll save me a good seat?”

“The best seat,” she corrects. “For the best girl.”

This time, you don’t bother to try and hide the way she makes you feel. You clench your thighs together and let your tongue dart out to slightly lick your lips.

“I’ll be there. You better win, though.” You turn around, then look over your shoulder to see her eyes fall down to your ass.

“With a pretty good luck charm like you? I’ll probably score the winning goal.”

“Bye, Caroline,” you say over your shoulder, smiling so brightly you’re sure you look all lovesick. You can’t care, it’s just how you feel for her. Maybe you should be embarrassed, the way she makes you feel kinda like silly putty in her hands, but it feels so good. So right.

“Bye, Y/N.” Her voice is breathy.

And when you check your phone, you see it’s after midnight. So much for Tyla’s advice.

But, you think to yourself, shoes clicking on concrete and KK’s gaze on your back, you kissed her after midnight- maybe all the good things just happen after midnight.

—-

laila when kk hit her for saying the taking girls down on and off the ice thing: 😞😞😞💔💔💔💔💔

y/n also being happy that she left kk AFTER midnight bc she doesn’t just want her she actually likes her

jackie and tyla wingwoman supremes i love them sm

dylan you are annoying i wish you suffering

[tan1shere]

Rest

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: Ellie Williams x sick stubborn reader !! Thought this would be cute because sometimes I don't like to admit when I'm getting sick as I hate it so much. Especially when something exciting is coming up- but anyways I won't blab any longer, enjoy the story beautiful people <3

Summary: you were slowly developing a cold but you were incredibly stubborn and kept saying you were fine, but the freezing winter was only making it worse, Ellie had to make you stay home so it would get better.

Warnings: fear of puking (I sadly suffer from it- and yes I can't remember what the name is 😃.) Just ellie being a sweetheart:( fluffyness !!

Masterlist

It was a cold winters day in Jackson. Snow drizzling every so often. You and Ellie were currently out on patrol at some random building. Night was beginning to come, and you and her were on your way back. "It's so cold out." You mention, hugging your jacket close to you. Ellie looks at you. "Babe, you should wear more layers." She speaks going to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You sink into her touch keeping more warm. "Im fineee." She lets out a hum. "I heard you coughing back there." You go to push her gently away from you. "I had a tickle in my throat big deal." You let out a small laugh, but she gets serious. "Well it is getting cold out I'd hate for you to get si-" "I'm fine Ellie I promise." That didn't seem too believable. As you approached the gates to the small town you lived in, you and Ellie split ways eventually. Going to your little home and flopping on your bed, getting under the covers wanting to sleep as you were exhausted from your long day.

The next day rolled around but you were glued to your bed, you knew you had to get up. Letting out a groan, opening one eye ever so slightly. You look out your window gazing at the falling snow. "So tired." You figured it was from your big day yesterday, but you were definitely wrong. Sitting up almost immediately as you begin to have a coughing fit. Just like you began to have yesterday. Weird. Once it slowly died down you look around, feeling a tad faint. When all of a sudden there was a knock at your door. "Baby, you up? It's almost 9, you've slept for awhile." You shake your head out of your small daydream and get up, going over to your door and opening it. You look at Ellie but she widens her eyes. "What?" You were confused by it. "You look incredibly pale." She had worry in her tone, coming inside and shutting the door. "I'm probably just cold Elli-" That was cut short when you felt a soft and cold hand on your forehead. "Uh uh you're burning up." This made you even more confused. I mean, you did feel a bit off. But you had so much to do today, you couldn't take a break or anything.

After all it was probably nothing... right? "Ok, well I'll be ready in a second." Which earns a shake of her head. "Ellie-" "you're so stuck in your ways huh? You're clearly sick." You roll your eyes. "I am not sick, I swear." Once again this woman believes nothing that's coming out of your mouth. "You're full of shit you know that." You attempt to ignore her and head outside anyways, but she instantly blocks the door. "Let me out." "Nope." You huff. "I told you I'm not-" you couldn't even finish that argument because you start coughing like a crazy person. "You were saying?" Letting out a long groan you get back on your bed. You just wanted to go out, you loved doing your little jobs, and the snow. It bummed you out when you were sick. But you were really glad that Ellie was the type to not take no for an answer. Because after a few minutes had passed you were getting worse.

You only wanted to get some water for that pesky scratch in your throat, while Ellie was reading something on your nightstand, laying in your bed. Her attention turns to you as she notices you gripping the sink in the small kitchen you had. "Baby?" You don't reply trying to calm your aching skull. "Hey, everything alright?" She asks again, more concerned. "I just got really dizzy.." You sigh out, trying to stand properly. Ellie gets up going over to you. "Why don't you go lay down and rest, I'll get you these things ok?" You want to nod but knowing your head is pounding you settle for an 'mhmmm' She watches as you take your drink going to walk close behind you, making sure you don't get too light headed. This is when Ellie goes full protective girlfriend mode. She makes you lay down under the covers, wanting you to have as much comfort as possible. "Are you too warm or cold?" You ponder her question. "I'm quite cold." She begins to bundle you up in the blankets, making sure you're warm enough but not to the point of overheating.

Next she will dampen a cold cloth to put on your burning forehead, in hopes it'll ease your growing temperature. "Have you got a thermometer anywhere." You didn't find it as necessary but she still wouldn't take no for an answer. "Probably in the first aid kit in the bathroom." You'd respond. She goes to grab it, coming back over to you. "Mouth open, tongue up." You give her a look. "Ellie come on-" "I need to see exactly what you're at." She'd reply. "You're ridiculous." But you do as she said, feeling the cool glass hit your tongue, keeping it there for however long it needed to be. She takes it out looking at it. "Maybe we should get Maria or Joel- this is concerning." You put a hand on hers. "Baby, I promise you this is all ok, I'll be fine." But you keep proving your points wrong when suddenly you sneeze randomly. She gives you a 'I'm literally right' sort of look. Resulting in you just shaking your head, leaning back against your bed.

You got to admit tho, you wanted to stay strong for Ellie, but you were quite scared. Yes you hated being sick, colds, stuffyness. But one thing you dreaded the most was puking. As the day went on you were convinced it was just a runny nosed cold. When you felt a hurling ache in your lower stomach. Which soon started progressing higher, making that watery feeling arise. You swallow getting really worried. You avert your eyes to Ellie who was folding some of your clothes. She had been doing little things around your home all day to help you out. You try so incredibly hard not to let this feeling out, but your anxiety increases as the feeling does too. "E-ellie." You try to get out worried if you open your mouth in the slightest something might erupt. Your hand makes its way underneath your breasts. Rubbing circles, hoping the horrid feeling will just fuck off. "Yeah my girl?" She softly replies. But you don't think you can answer. You need to get the message across but you're so scared.

She whips her head around to look at you, seeing your skin getting even more pale and noticing your actions. Her eyes widen as she soon realizes. Ellie knew your fear, ever since the first time you puked infront of her she hated the gut wrenching cry of pain you let out once you had, your tears hurting everything inside of her. Stopping what she was doing she makes her way over to you, sitting on the bed. "Hey, look at me baby." Her tone was still as soft as anything. "I'm scared." You blurt out. "I know, I know. But maybe you need to. Get out all of those icky bugs inside you." You were instant to shaking your head. "You don't need to be scared I'm right here. I promise." She speaks, holding your hand. You let go of a shaky breath, taking in her gentle words. "Let me get the bowl ok?" She gets up going to do just that, bringing it over to you. It took a few seconds for you to just give into the thing you were dreading, holding it back. Once you do she was quick to putting your hair back and out of your face.

Putting it in a small bun, knowing this wasn't the last time you'd be puking that day. Not long after she hears your soft cries, and that gut wrenching sound of absolute pain. "Ellie." You make a disgusted face, tasting the horribleness. "I know my baby, I know." She gives you a small frown, wanting to take all this pain away from you. "Everything hurts." She rubs a soothing hand on your head moving to set the bowl down and clean it out soon. "I'm sorry Els." But she shakes her head. "You can't help being sick angel, just hurts to hear your cries and pains." You nod. "I hate it." "Me too darling. Being sick is the worst." There was a small silence. "Want me to lay with you precious girl?" Your heart melted at how caring this woman was. "You've done so much for me today- I really don't want to get you sick-" But she puts a finger on your mouth shhing you. "Don't be silly babe, I'd rather get sick then leave you here all by yourself. That's horrible to even think about." She goes to get into bed with you. Immediately you snuggle close to her. "Thank you." She smiles. "No need to thank me love, I'm always here for you." You let a smile spread across your face feeling exhausted. "Why don't you have a little nap and then we can try to get you to drink something when you wake up." And you couldn't agree more to that nap. Sleeping almost instantly.

[thatfanficstuff]

Breakeven - Jonas Taylor (The Meg)

Pairing: Jonas Taylor x Reader

Warnings: nope

A/N: Inspired by the song Breakeven by The Script. I was having trouble finding a Jonas Taylor fic that fit what I was looking for so I wrote one. The story of my life. Enjoy.

Jonas Taylor’s gaze swept around the flurry of activity surrounding him. He’d just left the infirmary after making certain his sister would recover from the injury she’d received when her sub had been attacked. He needed a shower and a change of clothes but he was too busy searching the halls of Mana One for your familiar silhouette. He hadn’t seen you since the two of you divorced and now that he was so close to you, he felt the need to find you. To assure himself that you were still whole and alive.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of you as you conferred with Suyin, both your heads bent over a tablet as she showed you something. He sucked in a breath as his chest tightened, an odd mix of longing and bitterness churning inside him. He shoved down the rush of emotions threatening to surface, schooling his features into his normal flat expression. He had to appear unaffected. He couldn’t let you know how affected he was by your presence, how the pain clawed at his insides.

“I thought you were going to clean up,” Mac’s voice interrupted. His friend followed his line of sight to see you. “Oh.” He dropped a hand on Jonas’ shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Jonas shrugged him off and gave him a tight smile. “Got sidetracked is all.”

“I see that,” Mac agreed as he put his hands in his pockets and followed Jonas as he walked away from you. They walked in silence for a bit, steps echoing in the quiet hall.

Jonas licked his lips. “Seems like she’s doing okay after everything.” Bitterness colored his words though he’d tried to hide it. He hated that he was torn in pieces, aimless without you and you didn’t seem bothered in the least. It was bullshit.

Mac studied him for a moment. “She’s keeping her head up.” He grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him into a room. “Let’s have a drink. You look like you could use one.”

Jonas nodded and took a seat in what was clearly Mac’s private room. He sipped at his drink as he watched Mac contemplate something. Jonas knew the look well and waited for his friend to come to a decision.

“You’ve got it all wrong you know,” Mac finally said with a furrowed brow.

“What have I got wrong?”

“It killed her to file those papers.”

Jonas snorted. “I find that unlikely. No, she thought I was crazy just like everyone else and left rather than stand by me like she should have.”

Mac shook his head. “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything, but I’m tired of holding her while she cries over you. I love her like a sister, but she needs you.”

“Then why the hell did she leave?” Jonas tried and failed to mask the desperation in his words.

“Because,” Mac hesitated, swirling his drink as if searching for courage in its depths. “Because the old bastard gave her an ultimatum.” Jonas knew instantly he must be talking about your father. None of you liked him but he was too wealthy and powerful to just write off. Mac sighed, regret contorting his features. “He threatened dire consequences, Jonas. Said you’d suffer if she didn’t cut ties.”

A heavy weight settled in his stomach. If your father wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him for threatening you. For making you too scared to come to him. “Threatened? What did he do, Mac?” His grip tightened on his glass, knuckles whitening.

“He didn’t want your presence staining his good name as he put it. Said he’d use all of his resources to make sure you were broke and homeless with no where to turn. He told her there wasn’t a corner of the Earth where you would be safe from him. Then he told her if she tried to run with you, he’d make certain she’d never see you alive again.” Mac’s voice was little more than a whisper by the end, heavy with the burden of the knowledge he’d been carrying.

A cold shock washed over Jonas, followed by a surge of anger that left him breathless. Your father hadn’t threatened you. He’d threatened Jonas. You’d shattered your entire world to protect him. His breath came heavy and he placed his glass on the table in front of him, afraid he’d drop it otherwise. He ran a hand over his head. “Damn it.” How hadn’t he seen this? Why hadn’t he demanded more answers from you? Why had he just assumed you were abandoning him like everyone else? “I can’t believe she never—”

“Hey,” Mac interrupted gently, placing a hand on Jonas’s back. “You didn’t know because she didn’t want you to. She walked away to keep you safe.”

“Safe,” Jonas echoed, the word bitter on his tongue. The truth of your motivations stripped him of his resentment, leaving a raw, gaping wound in its wake.

“Jonas,” Mac’s voice softened, “she loved you enough to let you go but she was far from okay with it. It tore her up. Still does.”

He clenched his jaw as he processed everything he’d just been told. If you loved him that much, maybe there was still hope for the two of you.

You’d taken to hiding in your room since Jonas arrived, leaving only when you were made to. You hadn’t even been to see Lori in the infirmary afraid you’d run into him there. Mac had been trying to get you to tell Jonas the truth since your father died, but you just couldn’t. He’d hate you for breaking his heart, regardless of the circumstances. It was better to just let him move on without you. For him to find his happiness even if you never did.

A knock at your door reverberated through the room. You opened it without checking who was on the other side. An action you regrated instantly when you found yourself face to face with the love of your life. “Jonas,” you whispered, your voice breaking on the word.

He greeted you in return before pushing gently past you and stepping into the room. You shut the door behind him, your hand trembling against the cold steel. “I didn’t expect—”

“Neither did I,” he said cutting you off. “Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?”

The words hung between you as your eyes searched his, wondering why he suddenly wanted to have this conversation when he’d never asked at the time. “Jonas, I…” you trailed off not certain what you could say to get him to possibly forgive you.

“Please,” he pleaded as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I heard things about your father, about threats. I need to hear it from you. The truth.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Your gaze faltered, drifting away before finding its way back to him. “I…you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he said, stepping closer.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your heart raced, pounding against your ribs. “My father threatened everything. I never wanted to leave you but if I stayed, if I fought for you…He might have been bluffing, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you ask for my help?”

A laugh escaped you then, a cold, bitter sound of disbelief. “How could I, Jonas? Threats from my father aside, you’d been pushing me away since the day everything went to shit. I tried to help you, tried to back you and you didn’t want it. When my father gave me the ultimatum, I figured it wouldn’t matter much to you anyway. It didn’t matter if I was broken, as long as you were okay.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as hot tears trailed down your cheeks. Strong hands gripped yours and you sucked in a breath in surprise. “Listen to me,” Jonas ordered. “I always knew you deserved better than me and I didn’t want to drag you down with me, but nothing, absolutely nothing would ever make me quit loving you.”

When you said nothing he squeezed your hands. “Say you believe me,” he whispered. “Believe that in a million moments, in a million lifetimes, I would always choose you.”

Your eyes found his, wanting to believe his words. Gods you wanted to. And as he gazed at you full of hope and love and desperation, you found that you did. Could the two of you really have another chance? With your father and his threats gone from your lives, what was stopping you?

Jonas leaned forward suddenly and you barely had time to catch your breath before his lips met yours in a kiss that was both an apology and a plea. His hands moved to cup your face tenderly as if you could vanish in an instant.

Pulling back just enough to meet your stunned gaze, Jonas ran his eyes over your face as if memorizing your features. Whatever he found must have made him happy as a wide grin curled his lips. “Marry me,” he breathed. “Be mine again. Forever this time.”

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. Fresh tears trailed the paths of the previous ones but this time they were happy, full of love and hope. You brushed your lips against his as you whispered his name.

He kissed you again, needy and wanting, before resting his forehead against yours. “Is that a yes?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, baby, that’s a yes.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face into the curve of your neck and inhaled your still familiar scent. For the first time since you walked out the door all those years ago, he felt whole.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered against his skin.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. As long as you never leave my side again everything will be fine.” As he pressed a kiss to your temple, there was a knock on your door.

“Go away,” he called, making you laugh.

There was a stretch of silence before you heard Mac say your name in question which only made you laugh harder. You pulled away to answer your door, Jonas moving with you. Mac looked between the two of you, before grinning like an idiot. “I’m sorry to interrupt this, like you have no idea how sorry, but we’ve got a meeting to talk about the meg.”

You nodded and moved to follow him before Jonas grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “We’ll be there in a minute,” his rough voice said as he shut the door in Mac’s face.

When he turned you and pressed you against the door as he kissed you deeply, all your protests disappeared. This is where you belonged. Right here with your husband as if the last five years had never happened. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back and wondered if they really needed you to tell them to kill the giant shark before it ate everyone. Surely they could figure that out on their own.

[nametakensff]

Ummmmmm… ⏰ for Steve??

Thank you so much for the 'Inopportune' prompt, anon! 🥰 Ended up writing 6.2k of S/teve suffering a torturous stuck sneeze that decided to make an appearance at the worst time imaginable 😇

S/teve has been trying to convince the stubborn tickle in his nose to form into a sneeze for hours. It just so happens that he will get his wish, but only when a stunning girl shows up to his work and takes an unprecedented amount of interest in his tickly nose

~~~~~

Content:

M sneezes, M/F (OC made up solely for the purpose of this fic lol), Stuck sneezes, buildups, false starts, manual inducing, tissues, platonic S/tobin, S/teve has a latent sneeze fetish, F OC has a sneeze fetish, sneezing from perfume, scent sensitivity, mentions of photic sneezing, mentions of cold sneezing, sneezing on someone, spray, a little bit of mess but nothing too graphic, sneezing in hands, nose rubbing, embarrassment/humiliation, mentions of masturbation and sex but only a little, S/teve has huge sneezes that he absolutely cannot control

Not explicitly NSFW but pretty close lol. Extremely fetishy

Minors DNI!

Steve had needed to sneeze all. Fucking. Day. It had started the moment he’d rolled out of bed – a distant tickle, not subtle enough to ignore but certainly not sharp enough to give him any kind of release. It was cloying and insistent, and no manner of nose rubbing, sniffling or snorting was doing anything to appease it. He’d sniffled repeatedly as he got dressed and brushed his teeth, hoping to fan the flames and stoke it into fruition. He’d rubbed the tip of his nose back and forth in the way that sometimes helped tip him over the edge of a sneeze just shy of completion. But no. Nothing. All he earned for his efforts was a couple of irritated tears rolling down his cheeks and an unpleasant burning sensation in his nostrils, as if the tickle was actively protesting the provocation.

He’d thought he would sneeze for sure when he’d styled his hair and inevitably inhaled his daily lungful of Farrah Fawcett hairspray fumes. It always tasted disgusting and lingered in his mouth and nose, but he was used to it. Today, the first whiff of the stuff seemed to skyrocket the dormant tickle into overdrive. His chest had jumped violently and the chemical scent seemed to drag the tickle forward through his sinuses; his nostrils began to flare.

“Hh…! HH! Hh-HAH!! HADHTT-!!”

But at the very last moment, when he’d been hanging right on the precipice of release, the sensation receded and the air in his lungs was let go with a startled, disappointed exhalation.

“God fucking dammit.” He’d muttered after several more moments of pleading with his body, eyelashes fluttering as he sniffled and panted, hoping that the manual inhalations would trigger an automatic onslaught of desperate gasps. Nope.

This tickle was definitely on his shitlist. It reared its ugly head again the second he put his car into drive. He’d white-knuckled the steering wheel, tipping his head back and taking in breath after lusty breath. God, but he needed to sneeze so badly.

Much the same as before, the tickle vanished right at the peak of his hitching, leaving him to deflate and scrub desperately at his tingling nostrils. This was fucking insane. A couple of minutes just sitting there and breathing experimentally made it clear that the mounting sensation was quite finished with him for the moment. It was still there, though, retreating back into the deepest recesses of his sinuses with a low grade buzz that left his eyes (and nose) perpetually damp. He swore and pulled out of the driveway, on his way to pick up Robin for their lengthy Saturday shift.

It was as he parked and honked the horn outside her house that the tickle made its unwelcome return. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, alternating between sniffling and taking breaths through his mouth when that seemed to be stirring the tickle towards completion. He was far too invested in encouraging the sneeze along to care what he looked like when Robin sat down in the passenger seat, but he was sure the face he was making was ridiculous. He sat there and panted like a fucking dog, pressing his tongue against the bottom row of his teeth. Robin was silent next to him, but he could feel her eyes roving over his face as he hitched, and hitched, and hitched…

At last he bristled, one final, stuttering gasp expanding his chest to capacity and yes, he was going to sneeze, he was going to-!

“HAHHHDTTt’-!!”

He held that breath for one second, two seconds, but all at once it was withdrawing, pulling him back from that tantalising edge, bereft of release for the third time that day.

“Nooo, fuck my life!” He groaned, punching the steering wheel and pushing his nose firmly against one upraised palm, violently jostling it back and forth until an audibly damp squishing noise graced the air.

“Don’t tell me you forgot how to sneeze, Dingus?” Robin was giggling next to him, delighted at the sight of his bleary-eyed frustration.

“Haha, hilarious, Robin, thank you. No, it just won’t fucking come out. Dammit.”

He sniffled wetly, sawing a finger back and forth under his nostrils. A quick glance at himself in the front mirror made him grimace – the skin round his nose was looking increasingly irritated, pinkening in response to the repeated manhandling. All this and not even a single sneeze for his efforts.

Robin pressed a packet of tissues into his hand, and he offered a small thanks before blowing his nose. He ignored Robin’s comment about him signing up for a position in the brass section of band sans instrument and pulled away from her house.

“Have you even sneezed once?” She asked as he pocketed the tissues one-handed.

“Nope. Not one fucking sneeze.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut hard, for just a moment. The tickle simmered in response, as if in mockery.

“Doesn’t the sun make you sneeze?”

“Usually, first thing in the morning – but no, it should have happened by now. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Caught a cold?”

He shook his head. He felt totally fine – the only thing wrong was the tickle, rolling through his sinuses in little waves. He blinked, and another set of tears dribbled slowly down his cheeks.

“Allergies?”

“Don’t have any. As far as I know? And nothing’s changed. I just woke up this way. Fuck, it burns, man!”

He reached up and bullied his nose back and forth with a balled-up fist this time, hoping the more aggressive approach would force the tickle to crest. All it did was hurt, and cause him to miss their turn.

By the time they’d pulled into the parking lot at Family Video, he had suffered two more agonising false starts, preceded by lengthy, dramatic buildups that made it a bitch to keep driving, to say the least. He slammed the car door behind him much harder than he would ever allow anyone else to do and strode angrily towards the building, but only made it a few steps before the tickle began to tease him all over again.

He peered up at the sun, knowing it would be useless but pleading with his body all the same. He gasped as the tickle ground against his sinuses, twisting his face into an expression of utter desperation. He’d never wanted to sneeze so badly before, never known his body to both hurtle towards and abjectly prevent the release of it in this cruel back and forth of “will he, won’t he”.

Well, he wouldn’t. Not this time, just like all the other times prior. His breath stuttered, a huge, definitive gasp, but even as it was sucked into his lungs he knew it wasn’t meant to be. It left him in an equally dramatic exhalation, immediately followed by an aggravated “Fuck!!”

Robin was next to him, patting his arm and steering him inside the building. He let her, waiting patiently whilst she unlocked the door and urged him through it.

“You feeling okay, buddy?” She asked, looking amused but genuinely concerned. He sighed and waved her off.

“Yeah, Robs, I’m fine. Kind of losing my mind a little but what else is new, you know?”

He meant to flash a reassuring smile her way, but the lingering tickle twisted it into a partial grimace. She snorted a goofy little laugh in response, and it was enough to make him laugh as well, though that also came out sounding more like a choking cough.

“I’ll cover phones and front desk today, okay, stud?”

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~

This shift was taking forever. Normally the passage of time was assuaged by dealing with customers and joking with Robin, but he was able to do neither, constantly assaulted with the prickling burn of the tickle. It had been hours since he woke up and he still hadn’t managed to sneeze. The false starts were, quite frankly, embarrassing beyond belief. He couldn’t help the way his expression crumpled, the gasps he sucked in, the way his entire body was immobilised by the building desire to sneeze. The best he could do was make sure he had his back turned on any potential spectators. A little girl had pointed and laughed at him, yanking at her mother’s skirt and announcing gleefully “Look, mommy! Funny faces!” That had sure fucking sucked. It totally didn’t make him want the floor to open up and swallow him at all.

It had taken one particularly aggressive false start – one he had been convinced was the real deal, so forceful that his body had been tossed forward with the half-sneeze – to piss him off entirely. He blushed right to the roots of his hair at the almost echoing silence after a monstrously loud “HUUUHHDTT’-!” had torn its way out of his throat, the sneeze cruelly fizzling into nothingness only after he had thoroughly embarrassed himself. Luckily, there had only been an older couple on the other side of the store at that particular moment – their conversation had vanished along with his sneeze, and he made a point of ignoring their curious gazes as he skulked into the back.

This was getting ridiculous. It had been ridiculous for hours, but he wasn’t sure how much more of the abject humiliation and fruitless buildups he could take. His nostrils flared involuntarily, rhythmically twitching like a bunny rabbit as the promise of a sneeze continued to tickle and tease the sensitive walls of his sinuses. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the small counter where Keith would fix himself an endless stream of PB&J sandwiches. Steve noticed that he hadn’t even bothered to put the loaf away from his shift the night prior, and half was already gone. Hungry work, he guessed.

Absentmindedly regarding the bread, his hands reached out to secure the small metal wire that Keith had left lazily untwisted. He didn’t like Keith, but he wasn’t enough of an asshole to let the man’s bread go stale out of spite. It was in that moment, as his fingertips brushed over the tie in question, that an idea lit up his brain.

Looking over his shoulder in case Robin made an appearance, he undid the tie entirely and pocketed it. He didn’t know why the thought of what he was about to do felt so salacious, but his heart was beating in his chest all the same. He made his way into the employee bathroom, locked the door behind him, and with sweating palms, extracted the tie and unfurled it into its full extension.

He looked at that little wire for a moment. Why oh why was he feeling so fucking nervous? It was a simple enough idea – stick the thing up his nose and wiggle it around until he made himself sneeze, replace the wire, then back to work. He wanted to sneeze so badly he could hardly focus on anything else, and yet – this felt…naughty. Dangerous. Like he was pulling his cock out at work and going to town. Which was entirely ridiculous, because it was just sneezing. Maybe the suggestive notion of inserting a phallic object into a hole? He huffed out a disbelieving giggle at that.

“Fucking stupid.” He mumbled, bringing the wire up to his nose and hesitating for just a moment.

Steve started out by teasing the flaring rim of one nostril, getting used to the sensation. It was almost immediately too much to bear, and he yanked his head back, eyes watering. It seemed that the best way to do this was to get it over with, no dragging things out. He paused for a second longer, almost giddy with anticipation, before slipping the wire back into his nose and pushing up until he was met with resistance – the very back of his nostril.

“Hh’HAHH!!”

His chest jumped with a sudden inhale – the inside of his nose was so, so irritated. The tiniest little twitch of the wire elicited an even bigger, lustier gasp of air.

“HUHHHH!!”

God. His heart was fucking pounding, eyes streaming tears as the wire bullied the sensitive walls, driving him mad in response. He’d never known a tickle like this before – he was entirely at its mercy, barely able to continue stoking it into completion with the subtle motions of his hand. He reached out, bracing himself on the wall with one trembling hand. It was coming, at last – he was finally, finally going to sneeze. His eyebrows lifted up, nostrils flaring to capacity, mouth dropping open as he took in one last humongous gasp of air, and –

“Steve?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice and gentle rapping on the bathroom door, dropping the wire as he shuddered in place. His heart had already going haywire in his chest, but now he swore his soul had almost left his body. The absolute shock, the fear – it was enough to terrify not only him, but the budding sneeze as well. He exhaled shakily, totally sneeze-less, feeling so frustrated he could cry.

“Yeah, I’m in here!” He grumbled, paranoid and hoping his voice didn’t somehow reveal to Robin the embarrassing nature of what he’d just been doing. He ignored the thought that it felt like the time his mom walked in on him jacking off in middle school.

“Okay, sorry!” She sounded concerned, and Steve sighed, running a hand over his face, willing himself to calm down. He sniffled, a distinctly liquid sound – the tickle continued its rampage, ever present but never enough to give him the relief he needed.

“You okay?” He offered back when he sensed her lingering. She would have heard that ridiculous false start before, watched him skulk into the back and not come back out.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just – checking in.”

“I’m fine, Robin. Promise.” He lied before blowing his nose as violently as he could, hoping in vain it would tickle enough to make him sneeze. It did not.

“Well, good. Listen, I was gonna go on lunch but I totally forgot to pack something – I’m gonna go grab a sandwich – I can get you one, too – but I just need you to cover for 15 teensy little minutes?”

He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Just go, I’ll be out in a second.”

He turned on the tap, hoping she would take the hint and leave.

“20 minutes tops!!” He heard her voice receding.

“Grab me a meatball sub!” He shouted after her. Maybe his irritability would deplete once he had the weight of a huge, greasy sandwich weighing him down and making him sleepy. At this point, he would take any kind of distraction.

He sighed again, sniffling once more and regretting it as the burning tickle brought fresh tears to his eyes, and made his way out to the front of the store.

~~~~~~

It would be just his fucking luck that within 4 minutes of Robin’s departure, one of the cutest girls he had ever seen strolled through the door and, upon witnessing Steve behind the front desk, made a beeline towards him. He willed the tickle to back the fuck off, at least enough so that he wasn’t wearing a permanent grimace of frustration.

Man, but this girl was smoking hot – he didn’t recall seeing her around, but then again, life was no longer high school and he wasn’t constantly crammed in a building with the same faces day in and day out. She didn’t look like a high schooler – she was, what, maybe a little older than him? College kid who was back in town for the holidays?  He didn’t have much longer to consider, taking in her auburn perm and the pretty lilac eye shadow she’d daubed across the corners of her eyes.

“Hi.” She said simply, placing her manicured hands on the edge of the counter. She smiled at Steve, and it was radiant. He wished she hadn’t chosen today of all days to suddenly appear in all her mouth-watering perfection.

“Hey.” He offered back, managing to neither hitch or gasp. “Do you need any assistance today?”

She slowly drummed her pretty fingers on the counter – expensive manicure, French tipped nails.

“I’m visiting my girlfriends over summer break and we’re having a pizza party. I was really hoping you might know of any decent romcoms –“ She paused for a moment, eyes flicking to his badge then back up to his face – “Steve.”

He tried so, so hard not to let the way she practically purred his name affect him, but this was feeling more and more like a wet dream by the second. The only way he knew for certain it wasn’t was the evil little tickle, prickling away and making his nostrils flare for just a moment. He hoped she hadn’t noticed but how could she not, making eyes at him like that. He reached up with a crooked finger, allowing himself the briefest of rubs before flashing her right on back with one of his best-practiced smiles.

“I’d be happy to help a customer in need, Ms…?”

“Clara. Call me Clara.”

She flipped her silky hair over her shoulder, a charming gesture that exposed the column of her elegant neck – but Steve had barely a moment to focus on it before a sudden wave of lavender smacked him in the face. She was wearing perfume – an overwhelming amount of the stuff.

Unable to help it, he coughed into an upraised fist, then used his knuckles to quell the tickle that seemed to almost explode in a fizz of sensation. He’d spent all day pleading with his body to make him sneeze, and the second it seemed to want to comply, he wanted anything but. Fuck his life. Fuck it hard.

“Ah, sorry.” He started, hoping his tone came across as easy-going and unselfconscious. “Just a touch of allergies.”

It was a lie – he had no clue what the fuck had gotten into him. Maybe he was getting sick after all – but the last thing he wanted to do was offend Clara. His response seemed to mollify her, her expression of disappointment morphing into a much more jovial countenance. He didn’t want to read into it too much, but she kind of looked a little…excited? He could work with that.

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Clara twirled a lock of her hair round her finger, looking at him with unmasked interest, eyes lidded and pupils blown. Oh, he could definitely work with that. He nodded at her.

“It’s not ideal, Clara, but I can handle it. Not gonna let a little bit of pollen stop me from providing ladies such as yourself with only the best of service.”

He smiled at her again, laying it on a little thick, hoping it would compensate for the way his nostrils kept twitching. It seemed to work like a charm – she looked positively spellbound, gently chewing on her bottom lip, eyes periodically flitting back and forth from his nose and eyes. Huh. Maybe she liked a little bit of vulnerability in her men.

“You’re a card.” She giggled back at him.

It felt good to get back into the swing of easy-going flirtation. It was almost enough for him to ignore the tickle raging in his sinuses. Almost. He sniffled, grinding the knuckle of a forefinger into the side of his nose and squinting one eye shut. It helped to prevent him from launching into another buildup, and luckily Clara seemed not to mind. She reached out to pat him conciliatorily on the arm he had rested on the counter.

“You poor thing. Got a tickle?”

The way she was looking at him right now was a look he was painfully familiar with – those were bedroom eyes she was ravishing him with. But right now? When he looked like…this? Man, who was this chick? He decided to roll with it.

“Such a tickle. It just won’t leave me alone – I’ve been sniffling all day.”

Okay, now that really seemed to work – little spots of red were starting to appear on her cheeks, visible under her expertly applied makeup. She even looked picture perfect when she blushed. He didn’t understand why she was blushing, but it was electrifying all the same.

“Enough about me, though.” He lowered the hand he had been bullying his nose with to rest on top of her own. She shuddered almost imperceptibly. “Let’s find you ladies a movie.”

~~~~~~

Clara was cool and all, but she truly didn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space. She was right up against Steve’s side as he launched into a little spiel about their most popular movies, his own recommendations, and just the odd little bit of movie trivia he’d managed to absorb from Robin that he hoped would really seal the deal of his own expertise. Clara nodded along eagerly, asking him for more details on each and every movie. He got the distinct feeling that she was dragging this out and keeping him talking on purpose. He was happy to oblige, but the malingering tickle was clearly fed up with being ignored for as long as it had been.

He’d launched into two separate buildups already, turning away from Clara and burying his face in the upraised collar of his polo shirt. Each had ended with more embarrassingly loud false starts before he inevitably deflated, turning back to her with an apology and a sheepish smile. Each time she had assured him it was no problem at all, edging even closer. Her pupils were huge.

“So, what are you thinking?” Steve smiled at her.

“Hmm?”

“About the movies? Any idea which ones?”

“Oh! Umm…maybe those ones?” She seemed a little bashful about the suddenly all too obvious way she’d been staring. It was nothing new to him – girls staring at him like he was a total dreamboat. It was extremely flattering, no matter how often it happened.

“Sure thing.”

He reached over her shoulder to grab one of the cassettes she was pointing towards – they were stood almost flush together, the way Clara had angled herself between him and the wall shelves. There was hardly any wriggle room, the corner of a perpendicular row of shelves pressing into his back. Ordinarily, this would have been a simple manoeuvre – a tantalising moment of fleeting physical connection, video tape obtained, guaranteed swooning on any girl’s part. But Clara, instead of melting back against his chest, spun round in surprise, looking up at him with heated eyes.

He wouldn’t have minded this, her breasts almost pushing against his chest and her pretty face so close to his, but that overwhelming lavender scent…It was almost unbearable. Not to mention that her squirming as he leaned forward meant he’d gotten a faceful of tickly, soft perm, just as saturated with the cloying floral scent as the rest of her. The omnipresent tickle exploded with renewed sensation at the double combo of internal and external stimulation.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was gonna sneeze. It was so imminent and so overpowering, and he was trapped between Clara and the shelves. Even without the building pressure rendering him immobile it would have required an awkward amount of wriggling to escape his current situation without pressing right up against her. And maybe he would have, if he wasn’t at fucking work, if he wasn’t about to sneeze all over this beautiful fucking girl. He shuddered with a sudden, uncontrollable gasp, mouth dropping open in a desperate gape. He was surprised he didn’t lose all control then and there, but he managed to hold back through sheer willpower. He turned his watering, rapidly closing eyes on her and tried to utter a warning, a plea that she get herself out of his way before it was too late.

“Hh-! C-Clara, I’m g-hh!! Gonnahh-hHH!! HUHH!!”

It was too much. Hours and hours of teasing torment, the tickle playing with him, bringing him to the peak of release then pulling him back over and over – it was all about to come to an end. He’d done all he could, he’d warned her; now he simply had to give in and let his body work himself up to that long sought-after release.

His nostrils flared to capacity, the round ellipses of them even more apparent in contrast to the sleek, pointed shape of his nose at rest. His eyebrows rose in a beatific acceptance of the approaching climax; his mouth hung gently open, pink tongue curling as he gasped. His lungs filled with air until they could fill no more.

“HhUH! HUHH! HUHHDTt-!!”

He couldn’t help the way his chest swelled and jumped, expanding with every desperate inhale, but even through the sneeze-induced paralysis he could have sworn Clara moved closer still. There was enough room for her slender figure to weasel her way around him, enough time as the mounting sensation rendered him frozen, but no. They were almost face to face. It was mortifying – he couldn’t believe what was about to happen. But he hurtled towards the climactic release all the same, and for a few seconds whilst he held onto a final inhalation in statuesque serenity, his mind turned blank and all he could focus on was the sweet anticipation of a truly colossal surrender.

And so, it was happening. It was finally happening. He was vaguely aware of Clara pushing her body up against him, nuzzling into him, and then it was exploding out of him in a dizzying rush of air and spray.

“HUUUUHHHHRISSSHHHHAHHHH!!!”

Ohh fuck. That felt so fucking good. He trembled with it, forced forward and into Clara, bracing himself with one hand on the wall shelf. He barely had a moment to luxuriate in the release before the tickle flared again, even more insistently, and he was gasping and cringing into a second monstrous sneeze.

“AEGK’TISSSSSSHHHHHHH’IEWWW!!”

That one felt even better. The pleasure of an itch well scratched sent a delicious commotion of goosebumps up and down the skin of his arms. But again, he wasn’t finished. He inhaled deeply, lustily, surrendering entirely and beckoning in a third explosion.

“HAHHH’YISHHHHHIEWWWW!!”

He let it do as it would with him, rocking him forward and sending a shiver down his spine. He almost moaned at its conclusion but was shocked to feel yet another sneeze beginning to swell. He tilted his head back, inviting it in – when he was brought back into himself by a gentle little gasp that was decidedly not his own.

Fuck. Clara. She was clinging to him now, pressed between him and the shelves. He was suddenly all too aware of her presence; the soft, fluffy hair rubbing against his cheek. He could have died of mortification. He wanted to, but his body wanted to sneeze even more. He managed to lift his shaky free hand around Clara’s shoulder and up to his face, just a moment too late as the fourth barrelled through him. It doused his fingers with a heavy spray as they lingered a foot away from his flaring nostrils.

“TISHHHHHHHHH’UUUU!!”

He snuffled, finally bringing his hand to face for the next one – and just in time. The harsh sneeze brought not only a fresh dousing of spray, but the dams of his sinuses finally burst, and a splattering of light mess graced his palm.

“HH’RIIISSSSSCHHHH!! HAH’AEGK’TSCHHHHIEWWW!!”

That sneeze brought a friend, just as messy and violent. God, would it ever end? He was getting lightheaded from the sheer force of the releases, in equal amounts pleasurable and exhausting. He sniffled hard, the sound thick and crackling. He felt like if he could just get the residual tickle out in one last, huge explosion, he could put an end to it. Even as the sneeze built, he continued to sniffle, fanning the flames of the tickle and increasing the irritation beyond what he thought his body capable. This was going to be big, even for him.

“HAHHHdTT-!! HAHHHH’GITTSCHHHHHH’IEWWW!!!”

Holy fuck. He couldn’t help the little moan of pleasure that escaped him afterwards, clutching his dripping hand to his face. He stood there, almost swaying, as he came back to himself. What a fucking fit – definitely the worst he’d had in recent history, even worse than the ones brought on by the cold he’d managed to catch last Christmas.

After a couple of seconds of sheer, self-indulgent bliss, he realised Clara was embracing him, rubbing a tentative hand up and down his back as he practically leant over her, pressing her into the shelf. He hadn’t realised quite how much the sneezes had thrown him forward and backed her up – she was practically sandwiched in place. His face flushed and he withdrew in a sudden clumsy scramble, ignoring the pain of the shelf that prodded into his back and managing at last to put some space between them.

Clara was red in the face, looking absolutely dumbfounded. It was bad enough, that he had practically smothered her at his place of work, but worst of all, his eyes could make out the distinctive darkened patches of moisture all over her pretty pink blouse. His sneezes, all over the fabric, so damp that it was almost clinging to her skin in places. Now he really wanted to die.

“Fuck, I am so, so sorry-!” He scrambled for a clean tissue one handed, his other hand still precariously pressed against his messy face, then started dabbing ineffectively at the saturated fabric of her blouse once he managed to yank one out of his pocket.

“No, it’s – it’s fine, honestly.” She said, gently taking the tissue from him and resuming his work, and he just had to take her word for it. She looked shy, but not disgusted. If anything, she looked – no. Surely the fuck not.

He extracted another tissue and turned away from her, grimacing as he wiped his hands and face clean. He hesitated for a short moment, glancing around the store and finding it empty – sweet Jesus in heaven, thank you. It took him several tissues to successfully blow his nose, but once he’d finished, he felt brand new. Completely purged of the tickle, he was an irritation-free man.

“Bless you.”

He turned around, a fresh wave of mortification crashing over him. The damage to her shirt had barely been dented by the measly little tissue. He’d effectively super-soaked her. It took all his remaining energy not to cringe and flee into the back of the store.

“I’m so sorry, Clara. I totally sneezed all over you. I promise I’m not getting sick. Shit.”

She smiled at him as he fumbled over his words, appearing not the least bit worried about getting sick at all.

“Honestly, Steve. It’s okay.”

He caught himself just before he cocked his head at her like a dog. This was not a normal response to being sneezed and spit on. Maybe she was just really, really kind. The alternative was much more ridiculous – he wouldn’t entertain it.

“You’re being so nice about this but I feel like such a jerk. I’ve been needing that all day and I just – couldn’t control it.”

“I could tell.” She giggled, looking more than okay to be in receipt of that information. Okay, so maybe she was more than just kind. He smiled back at her, relieved in more ways than one. Fuck, it had been great to sneeze, and being able to do so – making a total fucking mess of himself in front of a beautiful girl, who even seemed to like it – he would never curse his bad luck again. Deciding to test the waters a little, he rubbed a finger under his damp, flaring nostrils, delighting in the way her eyes followed the motion.

“Actually, it smells great and all but I think your perfume might be bothering me a little. Not that that’s a bad thing. I’d rather sneeze like that all day than be stuck with a tickle that won’t go away.”

He flashed her one of the cockiest grins he could muster. She looked like she was about to swoon.

“You really helped me out there.”

“Really?” She all but sighed, stepping towards him – and bringing with her a fresh wave of lavender.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, Clara, I’m gonna-!”

He managed to bring a new tissue up to his nose, quaking as an earth-shattering double raced through him and exploded into the soft paper.

“HAGK’TISSSSSSHHHH!! AESSSHHHHHUUU!! Ohh, god. Bless me.”

Clara offered him a breathy ‘Bless you’ of her own, which he thanked enthusiastically, making a show of wiping his nostrils clean. This seemed to have an almost hypnotic effect on her, broken only when he asked her if she’d still like to rent any movies.

“What?” She blinked her big, pretty eyes at him. He smiled.

“Want me to ring those movies up for you? These two, right?”

He reached for the tapes she’d been after and held them up for her to consider.

“Oh. Um. Yeah, those would be great, thanks.” She seemed embarrassed, like a spell had suddenly been broken and she finally realised she’d been making the sultriest bedroom eyes at him in the middle of an open store again.

He nodded, making his way back to the desk and gesturing for her to follow. He was almost euphoric as he updated her information on the computer. If one could experience afterglow from sneezing alone, he was definitely there. He just wanted to laze around and bask in the joy of being entirely tickle free, completely purged of all irritation. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, being teased and tormented like that, if the final result felt so damn good.

“Here you go! All set.”

He handed her the tapes with a winning smile and she took them with a little smile of her own. His eyes drifted to the speckled fabric of her blouse, still drenched with the result of his sneezing.

“Listen, I know you said you don’t mind but I still feel real awful about ruining your top. Will you let me pay for dry cleaning?”

She fixed him with another heated glance, twirling her pretty hair round her finger.

“I’d rather you use the money to take me out sometime.”

He grinned.

“Yeah? I can make that happen. You have a number I can call?”

Steve was grinning like an idiot and waving goodbye to a giggling Clara when Robin nearly made him jump out of his skin for the second time that day.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Jesus, Robin! That’s it, I’m getting you a bell.”

The irritation he intended to exude was clearly lost in translation, likely due to the fact that he couldn’t stop the smug grinning. Robin jabbed him in the ribs with her finger until he squirmed in protest.

“Who was that?”

He set about stacking tapes, enjoying the way Robin’s frustration built as he turned away from her. She poked him harder.

“Steve, tell me who that crazy hot girl was and why she was still making eyes at you even after you snotted all over her right now.”

He groaned. He mustn’t have heard her come back in – which made total sense. He could have been on another planet for how out of it that sneezing had made him.

“How long were you watching?”

“Long enough.” Robin smirked, before handing him a sandwich. He took it gratefully.

“You’re a saint, Robs.”

“Worked up an appetite?” She smirked at him, taking a bite out of her own. Keith would have chewed them out for eating out front, but Steve couldn’t care less. He practically tore into his own, getting sauce all over the tip of his nose with the sheer voracity of his bite.

“You could say that.” He mumbled round a mouthful of bread and meat. “Her name is Clara.” He offered before taking another huge bite.

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“Me neither. Think she’s from out of town, visiting friends. Didn’t really ask. College girl.”

“She was cute. And totally weird.”

“That’s a fucking understatement. I can’t believe I sneezed all over her and she still wants me take her on a date.”

“Steve, you’re great, but believe me, if I could figure out what the fuck it is you manage to do to charm these girls, I would bottle that shit and make a million in sales overnight.”

“Hmm. This felt different though. I think she – maybe liked me more? After I started sneezing? She kept giving me these eyes, Robin – and I wasn’t even trying.”

“Well,” Robin started with a gentle slap on his shoulder. “If you figure it out, let me know. Maybe all I need to do is start sneezing on the girls I like.”

“Shut up, man!” Steve called after her as she sauntered away, laughing through another huge mouthful of food.

He didn’t know what the fuck this girl’s deal was, but with any luck, she would let him know in the back of his car. Or in the back of a movie theatre. Or in her bed. And he hoped she was wearing that perfume when she did.

[tkmasquerade]

Royal punishment in the name of jambalaya

Summary: After discovering her father was suffering more than she thought, Charlie takes the oportunity to make the king of hell just let go and laugh, to make him feel better, disguising her intention with a punishment for messing with Alastor's jambalaya.

Content Warnings: Lucifer dealing with his depression and missing his wife, use of sleeping pills, canon-typical language, brief mild violence, use of restraints, a lot of fluff and playful tickling.

Word Count: 3,356 words. By: Witch Anon

It was late at night in the hotel, most of the residents were asleep or going to.

The king of hell was one of them. During the day he kept an easy-going demeanor for his daughter and everyone else, but at night, specially just before bed and when nobody is watching, his mask fell off.

Ever since his queen disappeared he had to become a rock his daughter could lean on, always reassuring her everything was going to be okay, he had to be strong to rule hell and to be a father... but every night he just missed her, his only rock he could lean onto, his life partner was gone...

The princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar, was taking one last stroll in the hallways of the hotel, getting close to his father's room, to wish him good night, but before she could even say something, she saw him by the barely open door and just watched.

She watched the king walk over his bed and sit on it, with a sad expression on his face. He took his hat off and his boots, and then looked at his hand... and took it to his mouth, in the motion like someone taking a medicine or a pill, and that exactly what the king was doing... next thing Charlie saw was Lucifer gulping down the pill, staring to the space, and smiled softly as que positioned himself better on the bed... and then...

".... Lilith..." he said in soft voice, but loud enough for his daughter to hear him.

Next thing that happened was the king softly falling on his back in the soft bed, starting to softly snore after a few seconds.

Charlie gasped when she saw that, and entered the room, avoiding to step in any of the rubber ducks scattered in the floor until she reached her father's bed, she tried to shake him a bit to see if she could wake him up but nope, he was out like a light... she looked around for a few seconds until she saw a medicine bottle and read it... sleeping pills, from the sloth ring, there was five of them in the bottle... it wasn’t difficult to put two and two together... she already knew he suffered depression, he himself confessed it to her after staying in the hotel, but now seeing he needed pills to sleep, probably because of sleepless nights told her it was worse than she thought... he really missed her mom, his wife.

"Ow... dad..." she whispered, looking at her sleeping father... she thought of at least tucking him in but she didn't want him to know she was there and saw that, so she quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, she wanted to help him, now knowing all the times Lucifer was there with her, he pretended to be all fine and okay, but carrying a really heavy load of negativity on his shoulders... she walked towards her room, maybe she could think in something in the morning.

-------------------------------------

A good night sleep didn't mean he wouldn't feel empty when he woke up.

The king slowly woke up, still being able to remember his blissful dream of his days back in Eden, back when he was an angel just resting his head on Lilith's lap, enjoying her voice, he could still feel her hands petting and combing his hair and wings... but he had to come back to reality.

It always happened, he would dream with her and feel sad in the morning because it was just a dream... but there was no time to feel like that, the day was starting, and as king he had to be ready for the day. He dragged himself to the bathroom to get a shower and get ready, that day deciding to just stay in white pants and a red tank top, Charlie already told him he could be casual at the hotel and be relaxed, he didn't had to be dressed like a king all the time, and he was happy to oblige.

Soon the king exits his room, his hooves tapping softly in the carpet as he made his way towards the lobby to have breakfast. During his walk he took the time to see the details and effort his daughter made to make the hotel look amazing, how her dedication could be seen in every corner, every flowerpot, how clean everything was... and couldn't help to think...

"Lilith would have love to see what our little girl has accomplished..." he said with a small smile.

A loud squealing ripped the king out of his deep thoughts, catching his attention and making him go faster in the hallway towards the source of the noise.

What surprise it was to go into the lobby of the hotel where a squirming Niffty was squealing and giggling up a storm in the claws of the radio demon himself, Alastor. The red deer currently had the maid lifted and secured in his hands and he was nibbling at the smaller demon's tummy, growling playfully. Niffty was giggling madly, her hands grabbing at Alastor's ear and hair but not really pushing him off, meaning she was actually happy and enjoying the moment. Husk was cleaning some cups in his bar nearby, for a moment smiling fondly at the sight, and then continuing to be grumpy as always. Angel was sitting in the other side of the couch, smirking watching the scene.

"Damn smiles, you're going to kill her of laughter if you keep going like that" the porn star said in amusement, actually having fun watching.

"Oh, don't be silly my feminine fellow~ she already dead!" the radio demon laughed.

Lucifer stayed in the door of the lobby, watching the scene, and couldn't help to smile softly watching, remembering how he used to play like that when Charlie was little, the little hell born squealing and giggling in his hands... it was a nice memory.

"Dad?"

Charlie's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and the king looked at his daughter "Ah! Char-Char, sorry heh, good morning!" he said with his usual fake cheery voice.

"Ummm morning... did you sleep well?" Charlie asked casually.

"Like a baby~" he stretched a bit, what's for breakfast?

"Oh! well we're making bacon and eggs, for lunch we will have vegetable stew and at night Alastor said he was going to make jambalaya for everyone" Charlie explained, guiding his father to the kitchen.

"Really? Bambi is going to make dinner?" he said looking at the red demon, who even still playing with the maid gave him a little glare.

"Daaaaaad, i told you to call him by his name, i don't want another fight" Charlie said annoyed.

"Heheh, alright alright... i don't promise anything tho~" Lucifer smirked.

Charlie only rolled her eyes, Alastor and Lucifer always argued, it was an everyday thing now, they always argued about something and it almost always ended in a fight she had to break off.

Alastor scoffed for a moment looking towards the king, but he let it slide before continuing tickling a bit more and then released the little maid. Niffty ended in a giggly puddle sitting by his side.

-------------------------------------

The day continued without so much of a fuss except Lucifer and Alastor's bickering and Angel Dust flirting, before anyone could notice, it was almost night time.

"UFFFF!" Charlie sighed, leaving some papers aside and looking at her girlfriend "Today was surprisingly nice and quiet, there was no explosions or broken walls"

"Well that's true, everyone behaved today--"

BOOM! the whole place trembled a little, both girls looked at each other.

"We spoke too soon" Vaggie growled.

"Now what??" Charlie shouted.

Both went running towards the noise, encountering others who went to check as well, just to see Alastor sending his tentacles everywhere trying to hit or catch a white snake.

"What is going on here!?" exclaimed Charlie.

"Charlie my dear! what happens is that this snake devoured the shrimps i had for today's dinner, i can't make jambalaya anymore!" even if he was smiling, Alastor was pissed as hell, still trying to catch him.

"AWW come on busboy~! they were there and i had to eat them!" the little snake cackled, easily slipping out the tentacles grasp.

But suddenly a hand caught him by the tail and lifted him, Lucifer blinked and grew nervous when he saw a very angry princess of hell up close his face.

"Dad that was not nice, that was for everyone's dinner!" she said sternly.

"I'm pretty sure he already knew that my dear, he just wanted an excuse to mess with me" the red deer growled, his tentacles went away and walked towards the two.

"Wait then what are we going to eat for dinner?" asked Angel.

Charlie sighed, and took out some cash "Angel, Husk, Niffty and Vaggie please go buy some takeout for dinner" Charlie declared.

"Oh! to think we have to replace my jambalaya for takeout!" said a highly offended Alastor.

The designed group left, leaving the princess, the king and the radio host alone in the hotel.

"Weeeeell since it's already solved..." Lucifer started to say, about to slither away, just to have his daughter tighten her grip on his tail "ACK!"

"Oh no mister, you need a punishment alright, messing up with dinner like that?" said Charlie, and she felt a hand on her shoulder "huh?"

"Allow me my dear~" chuckled Alastor, i think i have the perfect punishment for your majesty.

Charlie was curious, and gave the snake to the red deer, Lucifer growled and tried to bite him but a strong grip on the base of his head and his tail rendered immobile.

"R-release me at once busboy!"  he tried to command, just to be ignored.

"Charlie, your father seemed eager all day to get on my nerves to have a laugh at my expense, what about we help him?"

"What do you mean?"

"He was watching how i was playing with Niffty in the morning, and so much he wants to have a laugh? we can do the same to him" Alastor smirked.

Oh no, Lucifer gulped, he knew what he meant, and it was no secret for Charlie he was ticklish as hell, she had seen him in the receiving end before, by her mom, the deadly sins, even Razzle and Dazzle.

Charlie understood and brightened, smiling, this could actually be beneficial at the end! knowing how sad her father has been, maybe this was exactly what he needed to cheer up!

"What a great idea Alastor!" she exclaimed, much to Lucifer's dismay "Dad, you have behaved poorly today, so please change back to normal and face the consequences" she said in her best authoritarian voice.

Too bad the only thing she managed is to appear cute in front of his father and the radio demon.

"Like i would! be serious, do you think i would change back knowing you're going to tickle me?" the snake said.

"Daaaaaad!" Charlie protested.

"Ah such a shame, seems i'll have to force you to turn back my lord" Alastor said, dropping to sit on the carpet comfortably, still holding Lucifer.

Charlie blinked and followed, sitting beside him "How are you going to do it Alastor?"

"A snake is pretty much sensitive everywhere, though the scales make it a bit more difficult" commented the red deer.

"HAH! guess i win then" Lucifer smirks, sticking his tongue out at the two.

"HOWEVER,~! there's a niiiice little weak spot we can exploit, my dear" Alastor chuckled in amusement seeing the king's smirk drop "And is riiiiiiight..."

"B-busboy i swear to my father, don't you dare! i'm warning YYYAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Lucifer let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal when he felt two fingers pinch repeatedly at the back of his neck. Ok, never in existence has ever tried to tickle him as a snake, so he wasn't at all prepared for the surprisingly strong ticklish sensations that resulted from the attack. Not to mention the deer demon's pointy claws were absolutely devastating and quick to deal the most agonizing session possible.

"A-ALASTOR!" the white snake cried out, his tail lashing out wildly without being able to get free. "HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA! ST-STOP THAHAHAHAHAT!"

"OH HOOOO~! So the king does know my name~! not busboy, nor Bambi, nor bellhop!" he chuckled, turning to look at the princess by his side "Seems his memory is working just fine my dear~"

Charlie giggled a bit, seeing her father in such predicament "I'm sorry dad, but you had this coming, you know there's consequences for bad actions"

"Well said my dear~" Alastor was smirking widely looking at the snake in his hands "Bad luck for you, i used to hunt and eat snakes while alive so i know a lot about them, now behave and turn back to your normal form, or i can stay here aaaaaaall day"

Oh no, Lucifer's eyes widened as he was still laughing and squirming, he couldn't stand even five minutes of being tickled like this, much less could take a whole day before being driven completely insane, he couldn't even concentrate to turn into a different animal. Better just turn back and get the punishment over with.

With a loud POOF of red smoke and glitter, the king of hell laid there across the red deer's lap, taking a breath and a break now that Alastor let him go, but that was his downfall. Alastor snapped his fingers, and Lucifer gasped when a tentacle came out and wrapped itself under his arms, preventing him from protecting his torso. The king looked at his daughter and the radio demon, smiling sheepishly when they smirked at him.

"N-now now, we can talk about this" the king giggled nervously, seeing Alastor giving him a sinister smile and Charlie moving and sitting on his knees facing his hooves, to prevent him from kicking.

"Ohhh no can do your majesty~! specially because we still haven't heard a single "sorry" from you!" the deer wriggled his claws in front of him.

Lucifer gulped, his pride too big to give up just yet, he then tries to get into his demonic form but it was useless, his wings couldn't spread because of the tentacle, and his horns and tail did nothing to help. He then yelped and started giggling when he felt a finger poking around his ribs. But even giggling he looked at the red demon with a challenging look.

"N-nehehehehehever!" he managed to say while giggling.

"Oh well, suit yourself sir, Charlie my dear your father is sooooo stubborn! what do you say if we help him come up with the right words for an apology~?"

"Sounds good to me Alastor" she said in a fake angry tone, making evident how amused she was for the whole ordeal.

"Splendid~!" he looks at the nervous king "Let's start with these cute ribs of your sir~"

Lucifer snickered and squirmed without being able to break free, refusing to keep giving that deer what he wanted, but damn it was HARD! those single pointy claws poking and prodding around his ribs, he started giggling almost inmediatly.

"B-busboy, stohohop!" he giggled. "I-I don't like being tihihihickled!"

"Perhaps I'll stop once you apologize for your behaviour~" the radio demon bargained.

"N-No way," Lucifer blurted out "it's gonna t-tahahake a lot more than a fehehew t-t-tickles to break mehehehe!"

"Very well, your choice sir~!"

Alastor then immediately dug his fingers through Lucifer's shirt into his ribs, causing him to snort and giggle loudly as his senses were overloaded for a split second but still refusing to laugh, his fist hitting a few times against the tentacle. Great day to use clothes that didn't protected him at all, huh?

"Being a stubborn wiggly snake, hmm~? Holding it down will only be worse for you my lord” Alastor chuckled, adoring seeing the king like that “Perhaps I should give you a little incentive?"

"S-shuhuhuhuhut up!" Lucifer managed to say between giggles, not knowing it was about to get worse.

Alastor leaned his face a bit closer to Lucifer, without warning him before hand, his claws went to scribble over the king's soft belly.

"Coochie coochie coo~” Alastor cooed at him.

That did it, in no time at all, he burst out laughing and thrashing, his belly being too sensitive to stand the deer demon's claws, trying desperately to reach his arms down to protect himself but the tentacle prevented him to do so.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ST-STAHAHAHAP THAT! N-NOT THEHEHEHERE" he cackled, hearing his daughter giggle at his predicament "C-CHARLIE HELP MEHEHEHEHE!"

"No can-do dad, you just have to apologize" Charlie said, giggling softly.

"NEHEHEHEHEVEEEEER!" he was still acting stubborn, but what the hell, this was actually fun! to just laugh and let go, it felt good!

Alastor growled, smiling evilly "Charlie my dear, what do you say if we take it up a notch~?"

Charlie then gasped, giggly, knowing what he meant "Of course my good sir!"

Lucifer didn't even had time to ask what they were planning, but the moment he felt a devious claw plunge into his belly button and wiggle, and his hooves being held down while fingers started scritching up and down, he lost it.

"NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! OHOHOHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAHAD, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! WAHA-AAAIIEEE- WAHAHAAAAA- AHAHAHAHA!!" the king cackled and screeched at the intense ticklish sensation, trying to fight with everything he had to free himself from his bonds, but it was no use, he quickly was getting low on stamina.

"Ohhhh hoho! seems like a found a magic button that makes you laugh like a maniac~!" Alastor chuckled, his finger wiggling mercilessly in Lucifer's navel, while his other hand was alternating between scribbling and pinching all over his belly.

Charlie then heard something else in between her father's shrill laughter, she looked back and almost squealed from what she saw: her father's tail was thumping against the carpet vigorously. So, despite his protests, he was really enjoying himself!

But even Lucifer had a limit, and as much fun it was. His hands slapped weakly against the tentacle as tears began swelling up on the corners of his tightly-shut eyes. It was when Alastor leaned down and blew a giant raspberry over his navel and then started nibbling and growling playfully all over his belly that he decided to surrender.

He gave a high pitched squeal, "AHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAP! I'M SORRY! I'M SO SAHAHAHAHARRY! MERCY, PLEHEHEHEHEASE, PLEEEEEASE!"

"Hmm~" Alastor mused, pinching all over the soft and sensitive belly, he turns to see the princess "Do you think is enough apology dear~?"

Charlie giggled, stopping her attack and leaving her dad's poor hooves alone "Yes Alastor, cease fire, he's had enough~" she declared.

The radio demon complied, stopping himself and snapping his fingers, the tentacle ceasing from existence and leaving the king in the carpet, Lucifer was giggling softly, his hands trying to rub away the ghost of the tickles. His hair was messy, he was tired and a mess, but... he looked genuinely happy.

"There your majesty, was that so hard~?" Alastor chuckled.

"Sorry dad, but you had it coming~" Charlie said, smiling.

"Y-you two are evil" Lucifer managed to say between giggles and panting.

"Why thank you my good sir! that's a compliment for me~" the radio demon laughed.

-------------------------------------

Again, in the dead of the night, the princess was taking her nightly stroll, and curiously went to check on her father. He was already asleep, but Charlie still was careful to not disturb him as she checked on him... she saw the medicine bottle in the night stand, and took it... her smile and joy could barely be contained when she saw the five pills were still there, meaning her father didn't take any of them that night. And the king was asleep, with a happy smile on his face, looking so peaceful.

Charlie left the bottle, this time putting a blanket over her sleeping father and went out, shutting the door quietly behind her. She maybe couldn't bring her mother back, but she was going to make sure her father gets better, and not leave him alone again.

~Fin~

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 3

Again the winner of last week's poll! There won't be a poll this week because I'm planning something a bit different. I hit 1000 followers this past week and have been wracking my brain about how to celebrate! Wasn't up for doing prompts or adding more projects to my list, though, so I didn't want to go that route.

But I did come up with something that I think everyone will really enjoy. Especially those of you who have been voting for Carry Your Heart (I see you in the tags!). So look out for that post.

In addition, I've just posted the first chapter of Arc 2 on AO3! Link below.

Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.

Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: AO3 (incomplete); Tumblr - First, Final

Arc 3: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

Fire rushing through him jolted Danny awake. His back arched as he cried out. He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to see what torture his parents were going to come at him with next when he realized what the sound of his cry meant: the muzzle was gone.

As were the restraints. And he was lying on something soft. Trying hard not to hope, he opened his eyes.

Sam and Jazz were leaning over him, concern clear on their faces. They were in some sort of ambulance or van.

“How are you feeling,” demanded Sam.

Danny took a moment to answer, his chest was pure agony. He didn’t even want to think what it would feel like to sit up. And even past that, everything was sore. Though the fire that had woken him up had dissipated, the tell-tale feel of ecto-dejecto. “Pretty much the worst I’ve ever felt,” he answered honestly.

Sam and Jazz both winced and his sister grabbed his hand. He squeezed her fingers weakly.

At the foot of his bed stood Tim in full Red Robin getup and Kon as Superboy.

He couldn’t hold back the smile as he met Tim’s gaze. “You came,” he said.

Tim didn’t smile back, but some tension eased out of his shoulders. “I always will,” he said. “Been telling you that since we were ten years old.”

“I know. I’ve always known. Thank you.”

Jazz squeezed his hand again and he looked at her. “Red Robin and Superboy are going to take you away from here. Robin will help you recover.”

Sam nodded. “Yep. And the rest of us are gonna focus on making sure Amity is safe for ghosts once and for all.”

Danny shook his head. “I should be there with you guys, fighting.”

“Nope!” interrupted Jazz. “Not even a little. You’re going to focus on getting better, got it, Danny? That’s all we want from you.”

“But the ghosts—”

Sam covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop it right there. Tucker is working with Impulse and Wonder Girl to get the portal locked up. No one will be coming through. No one—ghost or human—will be in any danger while you’re gone. I promise.”

Danny slumped into the bed. Even the slight change in position caused waves of pain to radiate from his chest even through the healing ice he could feel implanted in his body. He whimpered and closed his eyes until the throbbing receded just a bit. “I trust you. I do, it’s just…”

“You’re used to taking care of everyone,” finished Jazz for him. “We know. So let us take care of you for a change. We love you, Danny.”

“Love you, too, Jazz. Sam.”

“Be good for bird-brain there, got it?” ordered Sam.

Danny gave her a half-smile. “Are Tim and I ever good together?”

She laughed. “Well, don’t burn down Gotham, capiche?”

“Capiche.”

“We have to go now,” said Jazz.

Danny gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t leave me.”

Jazz winced, but leaned down to kiss his forehead. “We need to make sure the Guys in White aren’t going to get involved further. And you need to get someplace safe.”

Danny huffed a half laugh. “Gotham is safe?”

Jazz rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a joke. “For you it is. Now, I’m leaving Red and Superboy with a case full of ectoplasm for you and our entire supply of ecto-dejecto. I just gave you your first injection. Please try and eat something and drink your ectoplasm regularly.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Jazz.”

Jazz sniffed and it was only then that Danny realized it was wetter than usual and her eyes were watery. He tried not to feel bad for his jokes when she replied, “Yes, it is whatever I say. Glad you agree.”

Sam cackled, and now that he was paying attention, Danny could hear the hysterical edge to it. “You’d better text us multiple times a day, ghost boy. Don’t try and lie to us, either. Kon’ll tell me the truth about your condition. And as soon as we can arrange it, we’re coming out your way for a visit.”

“Course I will, Sam. Give Tuck my best?”

“Duh. He wishes he could’ve come with us, you know.”

Danny nodded. “But he’s better with the tech stuff and that is just as time sensitive.”

“Yeah. Now, get some sleep,” Sam ordered. “You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”

Danny gave the rote answer after too many all-nighters taking care of ghost attacks before school, “I’m dead, I don’t need sleep.”

His sister squeezed his hand. “Ghosts who just went through what you did need their sleep. Love you, Danny. Get well and I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, Jazz.”

She kissed his forehead one more time, followed by Sam. And with another two rounds of farewells and love yous, he was alone with Tim and Kon.

“Thanks for coming,” he said again.

“Obviously we weren’t going to leave you there,” said Kon. “Being a lab subject isn’t fun. Especially not that kinda lab experiment.”

Danny couldn’t quite hold back the flinch at that description. It was accurate, but blunt.

Tim walked over until he was sitting by Danny’s bed. “Just listen to Jazz and get some rest. We’re going to be taking the long route to Gotham by going south to start. If we stop for food in a few hours, think you could handle a smoothie?”

Danny shrugged and bit back a yawn. “Could try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Kon moved towards the front of the vehicle as well. “Looks like it’s time for us to skedaddle. I’ll keep the road from jostling you, ghost-boy.”

Danny gave a small smile and let his eyes close. As he did, he tried to mumble his thanks and he hoped it came across.

---

The next time he woke was more gentle. Someone was tapping on his shoulder and calling his name. But even so, as he was pulled closer to awareness, the pain made itself more and more known. He tried to cling to the darkness, but the tapping wasn’t stopping, nor was the person calling him.

He blinked open his eyes to see Tim’s concerned face. He wasn’t wearing the domino anymore, or his costume. Just a sweatshirt and jeans.

“Hey, Danny,” said Tim. “I’m going to need you to try and eat a bit right now. Kon got us those smoothies I mentioned. I’ve also got yogurt if that’ll be easier for you. But the smoothie will have more nutrients.”

Danny closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat. Why did Tim have to bring him back to consciousness for this? He hurt and just wanted to sink back into oblivion.

The tapping on his shoulder began again. “I know, Danny. But you have to eat something. And you should take some ectoplasm, too. So just stay awake for a few minutes.”

“Mm ‘wake,” said Danny without opening his eyes. He shifted his weight, hoping to push himself up to eat, only to scream in pain as his chest protested any movement.

“Shit! Don’t move,” said Tim too late. “I’ve got a spoon here. I’ll feed it to you, okay? So just stay exactly where you are.”

Danny gripped his sheets, unable to do anything else as wave after wave of pain over took him. Tim kept up a litany of reassurances and stroked his hair. Eventually, Danny was able to think past it again.

“Don’t think I can sit up,” said Danny.

“Of course not,” agreed Tim. He held a styrofoam cup between his knees and carefully took off the lid and straw. “Just let me. Take at least a few bites. Swallow as is, don’t try and chew. Just do what you can, okay?”

“Okay,” agreed Danny and Tim fed him the first bite.

Danny hated this. Hated it so much. Here he was being spoon fed like a baby all because his parents… He shut his eyes and took the next bite. He wasn’t going to finish that thought. Tim was here and that’s what mattered.

Danny wasn’t sure how much he ate, but it couldn’t have been much. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier and the pull of oblivion stronger.

“Wait, Danny. Stay awake just a little longer, okay?”

Danny groaned but forced his eyes open again.

Tim showed him a bottle of ectoplasm. “Just a few swallows of this, too. Okay?”

He didn’t want to. He’d rather just go to sleep again, but he opened his mouth obediently. By the time he finished his third spoonful, he couldn’t fight it anymore and slumped into the bed. The pain receded back into blackness for a time.

-----

Next

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Danny is going to be getting all the comfort throughout this. All of them will, tbh. Because no one is happy and they all need a hug or five.

Let me know what you think!

[eveandtheturtles]

Dating Advice

Ship: Leo X Reader

A/N: Leo can't catch a break it seems lol I am going to continue bully him for a lil bit more. With the help of his fam ;)

Tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch

Anyone else want in let me know!

Recently Leo has been a bit antsy. A bit more... jumpy? But only in the presence of one person.

April noted his behaviour as you left the lair and immediately pulled him aside.

"Okay, spill." She sat him down in the kitchen and gave him her best 'big sis time' look.

"I- don't know what you mean," he said slowly, clearing his throat and looking away. "Now if you excuse me-" he started getting up.

"Sit," she ordered and he sat back down. "Come on Leo," she softened her tone. "I want to help."

He sighed heavily and tapped his finger over the table. "Fine," he sighed, finally giving in. "It's- well,... How do you ask somebody out? Asking for a friend."

April smiled and was about to answer when as if summoned Mikey popped up behind them.

"Who is asking who out?" He asked.

"No one!" Leo tried to stop the train from crashing but too late.

"I think Leo likes your new friend a little more than 'just friends'," April informed him.

"That's nothing new." Suddenly Donnie spoke up from the coffee spot. He had crawled out of his science cave to inject more caffeine in his blood stream. "You aren't that hard to read Leo," he added seeing the shocked face of his brother.

"Can we stop with the bullying?" The blue masked turtled sighed.

"Who are we bullying?" Raph asked as he emerged freshly post work out with a towel around his neck.

"Leo." All three replied.

The terrapin in question sighed again leaning his head down and rubbing a spot on his forehead. He could feel the headache coming.

"Oh, really?" Raph grinned. "What about?"

"He wants to ask Sweetness out," Mikey informed him.

"I never said I want to! It's for a friend!" Leo protested.

"Really? What is his name?" April asked with a wide grin.

Leo opened and closed his mouth. He then made an undignified noise and slid lower in his chair.

"That's what I thought," she said smugly.

"Bro, you could like make a song for her, chicks are into this kinda thing, right?" Mikey looked at April.

She made an 'eh' face. "Depends."

"Or a poem." Raph placed one hand on Leo's shoulder. "I got one for you bro."

"Don't." Leo glared at him.

"Roses are read, violets are blue." Raph ignored him and continued. "Guess what, my bed has place for two."

"Good one!" Mikey snickered. "How about - twinkle, twinkle little star, we can do it in the car."

The two hollered with laughter, even April had to bite her lips not to join them. Leo was suffering.

"Mikey, if you get anywhere near the turtle tank with that intent I will cut you off the WiFi for life and set your hover board on fire," Donnie spoke up.

"Yes, sir!" Mikey immediately sobered up. Donnie threats were no laughing matter.

"Thank you!" Leo called out, hoping the torment was over. He was wrong.

"That being said -," Donnie took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat.

"Oh, no." Leo sunk further down.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream," purple terrapin sang. "Merrily, merrily, I can make you scream."

"Oh, my god," Leo groaned. "You are my family, but you are all terrible, you dicks."

"Eh, you love us," April patted his hand.

"Hey guys," you re-entered the lair. "I forgot my bag." You took the scene in and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Suddenly all the eyes were on Leo and he just wanted to disappear.

"Nope," he jumped out of the chair. "Everything is peachy! Let me walk you home." He rushed to your side and threw a death glare at his snickering family.

You were very confused as Leo escorted you out.

"What was that all about?" You asked. "It looked like you guys were having an intervention," you joked.

"It was nothing, they just thought they were being funny," he huffed.

"Were they giving you shit because you haven't asked me out yet?" You smirked, giving him a side eye.

Leo felt like a scratch record. "What?" He blinked at you, stopping abruptly.

"You aren't that hard to read Leo." You took his hand. "Also I was listening to the whole thing for quite a while. The sewers do carry sounds well."

His heart was about to jump out of his chest. "And um, do you, would you mind if I did?"

"Nope, so come on, shoot your shot." You nudged him gently.

"Alright," he took a deep breath in. Here it goes. He will not mess it up. "Do you take out game?"

Fuck.

"I mean - Will you check me out? No!" He pinched the bridge oh his snout.

You tried so hard not to laugh.

"I can do this," he said probably more to himself than you. "Will you. Go with me. To the Knicks game this Saturday?"

You giggled and stood up on your tip toes giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, with pleasure."

"Great!!" He smiled brightly. "I can pick you up at 6?"

"Sounds perfect. See you then." You gave his hand a squeeze and exited the sewers. A smile never leaving your face.

Once you were gone he fist pumped, excited. You said yes! That was such a relief! He felt so good he was going to clean the dojo!

Figuring out how to prevent his brothers from going to the game was future Leo problem.

[mcytanti]

big collection of starcello headcanons

- ivory decided he was cute during the trying on clothes in the sewing room scene ^_^ never acts on this tho serapter makes all the first moves

- their in a qpr im projecting with this one but i feel like ivory would have a hard time telling the difference between romantic and platonic feelings and would get frustrated with people not being able to explain what's the difference bc arent you supposed to be friends with your partner (she's just like me fr)

- ivory isnt the cuddly type but feels safe with serapter and lets him be as clingy as he wants, he'll rest his chin on her head, always stand super close, play with her hair stuff like that

- they share bed sharing after the mysti murder bc he doesnt feel safe sleeping alone. ivory points out that he wasnt sleeping alone anyway bc they share a bunk bed but he says its different

- ivory post mysti murder has a hard time sleeping in silence so asks serapter to talk at her until she falls asleep, but not to loud they have neighbors and she doesn't want to get in trouble 💀

- they share clothes for a bit bc ivory came to the house with nothing. but bc everything was tailor made back then nothing fits her well so serapter convinces her to get her own clothes that actually fit. she has him pick out her outfits

- serapter loves to give her flowers and gifts partly as an apology for all the silly stuff he gets them in trouble over but mostly bc it makes him sad she owns nothing so makes sure to give her stuff that will be Hers

- when they walk in the garden serapter insists ivory hold onto his arm so he'll look like a proper gentlemen and her a find lady. ivory rolls her eyes and goes along with it (she likes holding his hand and finds it cute he cares so much)

- i think clown would be the type of boss to ban relationships between staff but thats whatever this is my prefect shipping world that only exists in my mind. when people finally get a clue that ivory and serapter are in a committed relationship clown offers to switch their bunk for a queen. ivory agrees thinking she'll get more space during the summer months. nope no matter the time on year serapter is sleeping on top of her. ivory just suffers through the sweat

- ivory doesnt like playing piano for an audience the attention makes her uncomfortable but when she does let serapter watch her play he gets the goofiest lovestruck grin on his face and it makes her blush like crazy. she tells him to look away or sit behind her but she still blushes bc she knows the look on his face. sometimes he'll freestyle lyrics to her songs :3

[nalyra-dreaming]

Re: the other anon regarding armand, I'm on the complete other spectrum of this, to me it doesn't make sense why they don't kill armand 😅😅

I mean killing Nicky (even indirectly ) and killing claudia AND Madeleine? (Very much directly)

side rant follows

(I don't know how louis didn't lose his temper every day he woke up and saw his face as a reminder of his betrayal

"Good morning love of my life who knew I was going to be brutally murdered and humiliated infront of an audience but kept lying to my face for months but changed your mind and saved me at the last minute thaaanks" )

((And then he actually wanted to sell this as a win to Daniel 😭😭))

But most of all I don't get how LESTAT let's armand live! In the books as well but in the show now he even wants Louis dead! He wanted gabrielle dead ! Killed Nicky and claudia!

In the books we never get it but in the show I'd love to see armand somehow finally meeting the consequences of this own actions and realizing the immense pain he has caused

(Not that he hasn't been through enough pain in his past that definitely can explain his actions)

I think Louis blamed himself for her fate quite a lot. I mean the reunion scene, if real or not, is him taking responsibility.

And he got to know Armand quite a bit over those decades AND he got to realize quite a bit about the vampiric life style... because a lot of realizations had not set in yet when they left Lestat. The reality of their life and what it means - and not means ... the truth to Lestat's words at times.

All that was something Louis grappled with, and what he finally came to terms with, at least to a certain degree.

As per Lestat... well. Lestat is quite forgiving, because he knows suffering. He has suffered. He also knows what kind of circumstances Armand was stuck in - for centuries. And though Lestat took one look and "noped out" (to put it a bit flippantly) he did realize what a shit show it all was for Armand.

And ultimately he also blames more himself than Armand.

Because while Armand did what he did... he very much did what he did within his range of logic, so to speak. He behaved very much in character.

And both Lestat and Louis... know that. Later, at least.

But that's also why the biggest punishment for Armand is, ultimately, them not being with him the way Armand wants them to. And, I mean though they are closer later on... they are not with him. Not like that.

Because Armand did what he did and did not manage to escape his own (very much influenced) mind set. Unfortunately.

[stray-kaz]

A Personal Experiment : a George Karim x f!reader oneshot

The Gist of This: The one where George knows more than he's letting on about how you feel about him.

This fic is 18 and up. You are responsible for your content intake. You have been forewarned. Characters in this are 18+.

George first noticed it when you were standing at the kitchen bench, effectively blocking him from the overhead cabinet and the glass he wanted. Instead of asking you to move, he just reached up over your head, your nose in the centre of his chest as he stretched upward, his body pressing yours back into the bench. And when he stepped away again, desired glass in hand, and glanced down at your face, he saw dilated pupils and a shade to your skin he had never seen before.

“Sorry, babe” he said, testing.

His quiet, husky voice sent a visible shiver down your spine and he tucked that information away for later. Then you mumbled something about being cold and dashed out of the room, George watching with raised eyebrows and a faint smirk.

“What was that about?” Lockwood asked, glancing over his shoulder as you brushed past him in the hall.

“She fancies me” George announced, pride in every angle.

Lockwood’s eyebrows shot up.

“She does? How can you tell?” he asked, surprised.

George patted him on the shoulder, still smiling.

“Physiology doesn’t lie” he answered. “I hardly touched her and she reacted.”

He sailed out of the kitchen, whistling, forgotten glass still in one hand.

The second time, you were barely awake, so he wasn’t sure it would have mattered who it was, but you arrived home from a case after midnight and collapsed on the couch beside him, immediately keeling over with your head on his lap. Lucy followed, eyeing you with interest.

“Go on, George” she whispered. “She doesn’t bite.”

George scowled at her and then pressed a hand onto your head, gently stroking your hair. When you nuzzled sleepily closer, he looked up at Lucy, scandalised. His knee started to bounce and he bit his bottom lip as he willed his body not to respond. Lucy looked back at him, trying not to laugh.

“I can help you take her to bed if you like?” she suggested.

George nodded frantically and Lucy bit back a grin. She bent and wrapped her arms around your legs and waited for George to secure your upper body before slowly backing towards the doorway. They carried you slowly and carefully up the stairs to the attic room you shared with Lucy, your head lolling against George’s shoulder. Your bed was messy, unmade, making it easy for them to lay you down on it and pull the covers up.

Lucy left quickly, not ready to sleep yet, but as George made to leave, you rolled to your side and snatched at his hand, untidily twining your fingers together with his. He stared down at his hand locked in yours, painted nails vivid against his skin.

“Georgie...” you sighed. “I want...”

But he didn’t get to find out what you wanted because you slipped away from him again. So he gently freed his fingers and tucked your arm under the covers so that you were warm, then he turned out the light and left you to sleep.

In the morning, you remembered nothing.

You had forgotten to buy new washing up gloves, so you were forced to suffer through washing the dishes in soapy water with bare hands. You grimaced as leftover food brushed over your skin, and then George waltzed into the kitchen and over to you.

“Didn’t remember gloves?” he queried, peeking over your shoulder.

“Nope” you muttered, instantly hyper aware of his closeness.

You could smell him, too, as he leaned into your back and hooked his chin onto your shoulder. Books and spice. You inhaled quietly in spite of yourself, but he heard, pressing his grin against your cheek as he kissed you there and the air in your throat stopped moving.

“Need some help?” he asked.

You gave a tiny nod and felt him plaster himself against your back, reach around and shove his hands into the water, quickly finding yours. Your hands stilled as he started to slide soapy water over your fingers, up and down to each knuckle and back up to the fingertip, swirling his fingertips around each pad. Your knees buckled and it was only George’s weight dragging you up against the sink keeping you upright.

Your hands shook under his ministrations, he brushed his lips against the edge of your ear and short circuited your brain.

“You all right there, babe?” he murmured, still playing with your fingers. “You’ve gone awfully quiet and you’ve stopped cleaning.”

He swore he heard you whimper softly, but before he could press his advantage, Lockwood strolled into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

“Lunch on its way, George?” he sang out, not at all noticing the tension in the room.

“Hmm” George replied noncommittally.

He released your hands, wiped his off on a tea towel and steadied you, palms smoothing over your hips and waist, before he stepped away to begin the lunch preparation. 

And you stood trembling against the bench, head low as you struggled to take back the composure George had taken from you.

He caught you during a hunt. You had just lashed a Visitor to pieces with a length of chain and then lost your balance, tripping into him, your cheek colliding with his chest. When you straightened, he had one arm around you, his other hand gripping the torch. The glow illuminated your face just enough for him to see your eyes, dark with fear and adrenaline, widen even further. His gaze jumped to the pulse beating rapidly under your jaw and then to your lips as they parted slightly, your own eyes suddenly fixed on his mouth.

“You’re staring, babe” he told you, arching his eyebrows.

You returned to yourself, blood boiling, and rolled your eyes, giving him a brisk shove.

“In your dreams, Karim” you muttered.

His dark eyes glinted in the yellow torchlight.

“Or in yours” he shot back.

You had nothing to say to that, and he wondered if maybe he was right about that, too.

“You have got to stop teasing her” Lucy announced one morning as she sat down hard next to George.

“Why? Her responses are gorgeous” he replied absently, turning a page.

“She has started talking about you in her sleep” Lucy snapped.

That got his attention. He looked over the top of the book with wide eyes.

“She has? What has she been saying?”

“She mumbles about your hair and your eyes, your hands. She is besotted. Do something about it” Lucy told him, sighing heavily.

George looked down at his hands, at the semi permanent ink stains on the pads of his fingers from thousands of books and newspapers.

“My hands?” he murmured, then glanced back at the page he’d been reading. “Actually, that makes sense.”

Lucy ducked over to see the cover and her eyebrows rose sharply.

“That’s hers!” she accused. “You stole one of her books!”

George shrugged.

“Actually, I’ve stolen several” he admitted. 

Lucy plucked the book out of his hands, ignoring the flat-abbed, muscle bound man on the cover and flipping through to a random page about halfway through. She read a few sentences and her eyes widened. George grinned at her.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” he said. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Lucy snorted.

“You’re a quiet one” she reminded him.

His grin became devious.

“I know.”

He took the book back from her and closed it, sliding it underneath a couch cushion.

“What are you doing with her books anyway?”

He shrugged.

“Research, reconnaissance. I want to know what makes her tick.”

Lucy arched one eyebrow.

“And then what?” she asked him.

George mimicked an explosion with his hands.

“Tick, tick, boom...”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you walked out of the shower and George was lounging against the wall, waiting for you. You frowned and tugged the top of the towel higher over your chest.

“Darn it, George!” you complained. “What is with you lately?”

His eyes dipped down behind his glasses to where some of your cleavage was still visible. When they rose back to lock on yours, your breath caught at the sight of his burning want. He was usually so collected and kept his feelings in check, but now he looked hungry, dark brown eyes deep black.

“I’ve been studying you” he said quietly. “Or, more correctly, your reactions to me. You talk about me in your sleep. You like me, don’t you?”

You just stared at him, heat crawling up your face and heart hammering.

“The whole time, you knew?” you managed to utter, eventually.

He shrugged lightly and took a step closer to you.

“Not the whole time, no” he admitted. “But I’m a fast learner.”

“How?” you asked, not sure if you could bear the answer.

“Physiology.”

“Your point?”

He smiled a little and your fingers itched with the desire to touch him.

“You respond to me in a million little ways” he explained. “Dilated pupils, flushed skin, respiratory increase, pulse increase. You look at my mouth a lot. I nicked some of your, ah, secret novels, to try and figure out what you like. They helped.”

Your face felt like it was on fire and you didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap him. While you were deliberating, George moved closer to you again, felt the warmth radiating from you, heat left over from your shower, and something more.

“Would you tell me you want me?” he asked softly. “Please say it.”

A soft, needy sound left you only seconds before the words did, suddenly obedient, and then George was on you, his fingers clutching at the sides of the towel, your hands trapped between you, still holding the top of the towel in place, his kiss gentle but insistent, just like the rest of him.

His hands travelled up your back, smearing droplets of water over your skin and pressing into your shoulder blades.

“Where are Lockwood and Lucy?” you gasped breathlessly, your nose bumping his.

“Out. Hunting a wraith. They’ll be gone ages. We’ve got time.”

“Time to do what?”

He trailed his fingertips along the edge of your towel and down your arm, to the hands wedged in between your chests.

“Whatever you want.”

You met his dark eyes with a shy look, read the naked desire and curiosity in his gaze. Slowly, taking a deep breath in, you loosened your grip on the towel until it fell to the floor, leaving you shivering and exposed. George’s eyes widened behind his glasses and he took a single step backwards so he could see you better, his hand still gripping tightly to one of yours, a tether from him to you.

His gaze swept from your face to your breasts, pausing as his breath quickened and his pulse thrummed, down your soft stomach, and dragged to the curls between your upper thighs. They clenched tightly together as he watched and then raised his eyes to yours once more.

“So pretty” he said quietly. “You have no idea...”

You closed your eyes and your lips trembled.

“Hey. Open your eyes, look at me?”

You opened them and he kissed you, taking you by surprise, eyes wide, but your eyelids soon melted shut and the tension left your shoulders, the rigid way you held yourself as George eased himself against you. He pressed his hips gently into yours and felt you shudder, felt your empty hand come up to lock in his hair. A surprise feeling twisted in his stomach and he moaned quietly. You pulled on purpose, a test, and felt your naked back hit the wall, a throaty growl vibrating against your mouth.

You breathed out harshly through your nose, lungs burning for air, but desperate to hold onto him. You untangled your other hand from his and fisted it in the front of his bright plaid shirt, felt his heart hammering. Then George broke the kiss, smiling contentedly when you chased his mouth, and lowered it to your neck, one hand stroking warmly down the line of your throat. You keened and arched into his palm, felt his fingers tighten and release, your eyes rolling.

“Who would have thought?” he whispered against your neck. “You hate being told what to do in daylight hours, but you really want to be dominated when it’s dark.”

You hummed wordlessly and your hips jumped when his hand settled on your stomach and lingered. You weren’t sure whether you wanted him to move it up or down, but instead, George moved his hand to the small of your back and pushed, sending you stumbling further into him, your sensitive breasts brushing the smooth fabric of the t-shirt he wore beneath the plaid. The light touch dragged a whimper out of you and you tightened the grip of both your fists.

“Careful, babe” George said softly in your ear. “You’re about to rip my shirt.”

You pulled back and stared up at him, fingers flexing.

“Then why don’t you take it off?” you demanded. “I want to feel you, too.”

He shook his head and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“No” he said firmly, making your knees weak. “Tonight I’m not taking anything off until you can’t take any more and you have to touch me or die. If you say yes, tonight is my experiment. I want to know what makes you scream with pleasure. Okay?”

Your mouth opened slightly as you gazed at him, eyes wide with shock and heat unspooling in your belly, making your thighs close tight on a sudden pulse of desire.

George stroked your cheek.

“All right, love?” he murmured. “Yes?”

You didn’t think, you just acted.

“Yes.”

George took your hand again and started to back up in the direction of his bedroom, devouring you with his eyes as you followed him without question. Part of you wanted to take it back, not being allowed to touch him, but a bigger part of you was more desperate to let him have his way until you were raw and begging, to find out if he could do that to you.

Walking into George’s room, you discovered that his bed was free of books and paper, and all his pens were scattered on his desk. The bed was made with fresh sheets and the covers were pulled right back to make room for you. You glanced at him and he nodded.

“Go ahead. Lie down.”

You settled down on your back, stretched out, all of a sudden self conscious. You started to cross your legs, but George caught the movement and put a hand on your calf, shifting it back over as he slowly shook his head.

“Don’t do that” he said softly. “Please.”

You nodded and sighed out quietly as George lay down on his side next to you, fully dressed including socks. He gazed down the length of you from a different angle and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning out loud at the sight.

“So, how long have you liked me for?” he asked idly, the fingertips of one hand sliding slowly from your throat to the valley between your breasts; he gently grazed the underside of one with his knuckles and you gasped a little before replying.

“Since I started here” you admitted.

“A year? That’s a long time to go without telling me. I don’t bite, you know. Not unless you ask nicely.”

You laughed breathlessly and then whimpered as he thumbed a nipple, pinched it gently between thumb and forefinger. He watched your expressions shift as he did so, and your lower body shift restlessly on his bed.

His bed.

In spite of his evidence to the contrary, he still couldn’t quite believe that he had you all laid out for him, not a stitch on and longing for him. If it wasn’t for his phenomenal patience, he would be seriously worried about how long he could hold out for without knowing what it was like to have your hands on him.

“George?”

He came back to earth, and you, at the sound of his name, soft and pleading on your tongue.

“Yes?”

“Touch me. Please. You’ve been teasing me for weeks.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You glanced away from his face, chewing on your lower lip.

“Anywhere.”

George tilted your head back towards him with two fingers under your chin.

“I know what it sounds like when you lie” he told you, his husky voice gone rough with need. “Where?”

He barely heard your whispered response over the blood roaring in his ears.

“Between my legs.”

He walked his fingers down your abdomen, swirling a soft circle around your belly button, before dipping lower, questing. Your legs opened on instinct and George let out a quiet huff of approval as he reached right where you wanted him. He brushed the bundle of nerves crying out to be touched, but it wasn’t where his attention was; instead, he ran his fingertips through the trace of slick already evident. Your hips bucked and you mewled, throwing one arm over your eyes. George peered up at you, eyes black and bottomless.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured, his voice a low thrum.

“Mmhm!”

He grinned, dipped his head down and pressed a bruising kiss just above your navel. As he pulled away, one finger flicked the taut nub and you squirmed, lifting your hips off the bed slightly. George’s eyes brightened and he repeated the motion, finding a blinding rhythm that had you alternately panting hard and muffling screams of pleasure in the arm you now had pressed over your open mouth.

And he was still fully clothed, which infuriated you no end. He let up a little and you looked down at him, your gaze travelling to the strain in his jeans. You tried to sit up and reach for him, but he gently slapped your hand away and shook his head.

“Quit that” he instructed. “We had a deal. If you’re struggling, just lie back and think of England.”

“I will be doing no such thing...oh, yes, Georgie” you groaned, as he dragged two fingers up through your heat and back to your clit.

He continued merciless treatment until you were writhing on his bed, fighting against the screams building in your throat. You were breathing heat, gasping for air that didn’t burn, almost ready to give in and beg for him to be inside you.

And then George leaned up on one elbow and pulled your arm away from your face, allowing him to see your agonised features and you to see his blown out pupils, his wrist shaking slightly from effort.

“Don’t hide from me” he said hoarsely. “Let it go, love. Let me hear you. There’s no one else here. It’s just me listening.”

You blinked at him, dazed and trembling, and he rubbed at you again, watching your face intently.

Oh, to hell with it.

You let go of the tension, as he had asked for, and screamed, whimpered and collapsed into his mattress, quivering.

George crawled over your body and kissed you fiercely, sliding his hand over your throat again, ever so gently. He knelt between your legs and a second later, looked down in surprise when he felt you rubbing up against him, struggling for more friction now he’d left you to cool down. He returned to your searching mouth, kissing you open mouthed and glorious. You wriggled and moaned under him, wishing he would take some of his damn clothes off.

He shifted around slightly, his lips nudging yours as he found a new position, and you were quick to figure out why as one finger slid into you, and you moaned into his mouth, rutting down onto the sweet intrusion. 

“Wow” George mumbled, quick kissing the corner of your mouth. “You’re really wet, babe.”

You groaned at him in response.

“Feels...good...” you managed to pant.

“How about this?” George asked, curious, as he added a second finger. “Does this feel good, too?”

You dug your hands into his hair and licked into his mouth, dragged your teeth over his bottom lip. He moaned back and sped up the thrust of his fingers, his thumb bullying your clit all over again, until you almost blacked out and fell away from his mouth, chest heaving for air.

When you finally managed to open your eyes, you saw George staring at you with a wide grin.

“What?” you asked blearily.

“I’ve made you come twice. Wanna make it three times?” he asked.

“Huh?” you muttered, and then realised with some shock where he was headed. “Georgie?”

“Yes?”

He wrapped his fingers around your ankles and carefully pushed your legs up and back before settling at the foot of the bed in front of you. 

“I’ve never had...this done before” you told him, anxiety rising.

He nodded slowly, then nipped a kiss on the skin of your inner thigh.

“Then let me be first?” he asked.

And only.

You blew out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding, and nodded.

“Okay.”

You smiled when he took off his glasses and set them aside, but the smile was wiped when he dragged the flat of his tongue over your entrance and up to your clit. You closed your eyes as he took his time working out what made you feel good and what bordered on too much. He used his lips and tongue to drive you sky high, eventually bringing his fingers back and sucking gently, then harder, on your clit.

You realised after a few seconds of delirious pleasure that the bed was moving and you opened your eyes to see George grinding into the mattress as you struggled to keep your own hips still, occasionally failing and letting them rise to his face.

He looked up at you from between your legs then, and the picture of him alone was almost enough to send you off the deep end again. His black curls were mussed and dishevelled from your hands dragging through them earlier, his eyes were wide and dark, slightly unfocused like he was drunk, and his mouth was slick with mixed saliva and your arousal.

George blinked at you, taking in your kiss swollen lips, midnight eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“Georgie?” you whimpered, stretching out your hands toward him.

He put his glasses back on and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, waiting.

“Please” you said, and he linked his fingers with yours, squeezing gently. “If you don’t let me touch you right now, I will die of disappointment.”

He bit his lip and stood up, letting go of your hand to shrug out of his plaid and let it drop. Your gaze greedily traced over the lean muscles in his arms, hidden under light brown skin you could kiss for days. Then, as he lifted his t-shirt to expose a flat stomach and a fine trail of dark hair that dipped into his jeans, you sat up and surged forward, catching him by surprise as you pressed a kiss above his belly button, what he had recently done to you. His stomach muscles tightened and then relaxed again and he threw the t-shirt onto the carpet.

George didn’t have time to ask if you liked what you saw before you had pulled him down on the bed and were kissing every inch of his smooth skin you could find. He moaned and gasped as your tongue emerged to taste him, your teeth soon after as you sucked a bruise onto his hip. And he groaned loudly when you straddled him and leaned down to kiss him properly again, your breasts pressing against his chest.

You stopped kissing him after a few minutes and sat back, framing his face with your hands.

“George” you said, a little out of breath. “I have had your fingers and I have had your tongue. I want what’s left. I need it.”

To emphasise your point, you rocked down onto him and felt him push back involuntarily. Something hungry flashed in his eyes and a thrill bolted through you.

“Well, you had better get off me then.”

You scrambled off him and flopped on your back, legs spread wide. He watched you watching him toe off his socks and then shove his jeans down, revealing bright orange and white plaid boxers just begging to be removed. You saw a faint blush rouge his cheeks as he pushed them down his legs and kicked them away. You bit your lip at the sight of him and reached up, pulling at his hands until he climbed back onto his bed and settled in the cradle of your body, pressing silky and hot against your warmth. He rocked his hips a little and you mewled a little as just the blunt tip of him pushed into you. You glimpsed the sudden worry in his eyes and pushed your hands back into his hair, tugging slightly.

“I’m on the pill” you said softly. “Have been since I was sixteen. You have nothing to worry about.”

Relief flooded his features and he pushed all the way in, desperate moans pulled from behind his clenched teeth as you grabbed at his shoulders, his forearms, anything to hold him, keep him close.

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are like this?” George panted. “You’re blushing and needy and...oh, my good girl...I can feel you pulling me in.”

You kissed him then, messy and hot, lifting your hips off the bed to meet him, thrust for thrust.

You had fallen hard in love with him months ago, but tonight’s “experiment” had solidified it for you: you were never going anywhere without George Casper Karim.

He reached down to hook your legs around his waist and tilted your pelvis up towards his, hitting a place inside you never before touched.

“George, don’t stop. Please, don’t you dare stop!”

His darkened eyes were wild behind his glasses, his strong hands gripping your thighs and holding them apart for him.

“That feel good, yeah?” he gasped out, sweat dripping off the ends of his curly hair.

You nodded vigourously and dragged him down to your mouth again.

All the build up, the weeks of teasing, this evening’s sultry torture had led to this, and he was wild, moaning and panting above you, his body gilded by the lamplight.

You understood the moment he began to come undone. He kissed you with a bruising mouth, each press of his lips and teeth in time with his movement inside you. And then you felt him shudder and shake, felt his jaw go slack as he pressed his cheek to yours. His hips slammed into you a few more times and then he went still, releasing your thighs as he spilled inside you.

You urged George down onto you, cradling him with your body and carding your fingers through his dark, damp hair.

After a long while, he raised his head to shyly meet your eyes.

“Was that all right?” he asked quietly.

You kissed him, lingering to feel the touch of his mouth.

“George Casper Karim, I will beg for you every day of my life if that is what I receive in return.”

A blush painted his skin again and you kissed his nose.

He was quiet for a while, his face pressed in the crook of your shoulder. Then he suddenly drew back and looked down at you, a sober expression in his eyes.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked.

You frowned slightly.

“That is an odd question to ask while you’re still buried inside me, George.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He eased out and lay down beside you, drawing an obscure pattern on the soft skin of your stomach.

“Well?” he prompted quietly.

You shuffled onto your side and cuddled into him, throwing one leg over his hip.

“I have” you murmured, speaking to his collarbone. “My boyfriend. He died on a case, a few months before I came here.”

George wrapped his arms around you and trailed his fingers up and down your spine.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled.

“But if it helps, I’m still falling in love with you, Georgie. I have been since I arrived. You’re all I want now, I promise” you said honestly.

He tipped your chin up and kissed you soundly.

“I’m falling in love with you, too” he whispered against your lips.

You smiled, and fell.

[waterfire1848]

Sokkla living in the south pole and vacationing in Ember Island head canons?

Hello, @dangeroflove !!!

1. A year after the war, Sokka went to visit Azula in the asylum and learned about the truly horrible conditions there. Azula assumed he would do nothing except laugh, especially when he learned that she couldn’t control her firebending anymore, but he comes back with Zuko that night and Zuko is arguing with the staff until he practically loses his voice to let Azula out. Much to Azula’s shock, they do. (Azula: Why….why help me? Sokka: Because no one deserves to suffer like this). Azula doesn’t want to return to the palace because it holds too many memories for her. She stays there for a week and is constantly hearing her mother’s voice everywhere and thinks she sees Ozai every once in a while. She doesn’t say anything to Sokka or Zuko because she doesn’t want to risk being sent back to the asylum but they can tell something is wrong. Sokka, having to return to the South Pole, suggests that Azula come with him for some time away from the palace. She agrees and they head off the next week.

2. The people of the South Pole aren’t overly welcoming to the daughter of the Fire Lord. A couple people even call her the crazy princess because of stories they’re heard. (Sokka: I’m so sorry. I didn’t- Azula: In the asylum, I wouldn’t be able to move my arms and legs all day. They can call me whatever they want as long as I get to stay here.) It’s not a good mentality but it’s the one Azula has. Kanna and Hakoda are the only ones who give her a chance upon first meeting her. Kanna is very much a grandma to Azula which, since Azula never had a grandparent, is very weird to her. Azula is stiff around Hakoda and doesn’t really know what he’ll do. It takes her time to realize he won’t hit her or yell at her for failing a chore or job. Over time, she proves herself to be more and more useful. Everyone kind of assumed she’d be like the Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom nobility they’d heard of and not want to do anything, but Azula is helping fish, make igloos, make spears, hunting, etc she really is putting in the work to show the tribe that she’s not the crazy princess and it works. By the end of her first year there, Azula has been accepted by the Southern Water Tribe and, by the end of her first year there, her hallucinations have stopped.

3. Much to Sokka’s shock, Azula’s favorite chore to help with is watching the kids. Most of the kids flocked to Sokka when they first arrived because he was the one who was their main babysitter/‘trainer’ and they want to hear stories from him. They’re scared of Azula when she first arrives but after she tells them some stories of her experience in the war (Sokka: The Firelord had no chance! I raised my weapon and- Azula: Am I misremembering? Sokka: It totally happened! Azula: You got no where near my father on the Day of Black Sun. Sokka: Yeah. We fought and subdued you. Azula, barking out a laugh: Oh? That’s what happened? I remember it a bit different. Sokka, laughing: Nope. That’s exactly what happened. Little boy: What are you talking about? Azula: May I? Before you poison these children’s minds. Sokka: You’re no fun.) and, upon getting full control of her bending back, Azula shows off different shapes and styles of her bending to the kids, who are mesmerized by the light blue flames. Sokka has gone to visit Azula numerous times when she’s watching the children and she’s always having the best time. (Sokka: It’s so weird to see you with kids. Azula, shrugging: I’m good at everything. Including watching children.) It’s actually when Sokka goes to get Azula and bring her back for dinner that he asks her out on a date for the first time. News travels fast through the village that she said yes because one of the kids hears and tells everyone. (It only took a year😂)

4. Azula and Sokka’s dates quickly turn into spending almost everyday together. They grow closer and closer as a couple and start to make more and more progress within the tribe by helping them get back on their feet and advocating for the Southern Water Tribe’s place with other nations. Working together, and after many years (10 to be exact), the Southern Water Tribe is stronger than ever before. At the 8 year marker, Sokka takes Azula out one night, during the southern lights display, and asks her to marry him. Azula happily agrees but that night admits to him that she does miss home. Sokka suggests having the wedding there and Azula does agree but inside she feels like it isn’t enough to just do that. While preparing for the wedding, Azula grows sick and asks to be examined by Katara. (Katara: Good news! Azula: It’s just a bug? Katara: I wouldn’t call my future niece or nephew a bug. Azula: I…. Katara: You’re pregnant). Azula has a mini breakdown then because she knows a baby will mean remaining in one location for stability and she can’t ask Sokka to stay away from the South Pole for the next 6-7 years, especially when he’s going to be the next chief, but at the same time she doesn’t want to stay in the South Pole continuously for 6-7 years. (Katara: This would be a great conversation to have with your soon to be husband.)

5. That night, Azula does talk with Sokka about the baby and how she’s feeling. They don’t really know what to do for a while until Sokka comes to her one day with an idea. Live in the South Pole and vacation on Ember Island. Aang is in the South Pole all the time, so when he’s there they could ask him if they could borrow Appa and fly to Ember Island. That way, Azula gets a taste of home but Sokka doesn’t have to be gone for more than a week or two. (Azula: I love it). When the wedding is done and the baby(a boy) born, that’s exactly what they do. They go back and forth between the South Pole and Ember Island both with and without their son. Azula loves bringing Hakoda(their son) to Ember Island because it’s one of the few places where she and her family were last happy so being there with her new family lets her make her memories. Sokka takes the time to fall asleep under the sun (to the day he dies he says Azula let him cook one time and get a sunburn all over his body and Azula denies the whole thing). Hakoda loves the ice cream there and will always order cherry flavored to go along with his mom. Sokka gets dragged along on their quests for cherry flavored ice cream because it’s not always at certain stores and he’s a fan of chocolate so he’s fine wherever they go. Sadly though, Hakoda is a fan of the Ember Island Players so Azula and Sokka have to suffer through their plays. (Sokka: I blame your mother. Azula: You’re probably right.) When Azula gets pregnant with their second child, she ends up giving birth on the island because they mistimed when she was due. The baby girl is named Ursa because she’s born when they’re at one of the plays.

[ragtimesss]

TMAGP theory (spoilers)

it doesn't mean anything until you make it mean something.

in other words, fuck around and find out.

it's hard to put this one into words, but bear with me.

in the magnus protocol, i believe that there is a continuous theme of needing to be known. ink5oul is a fantastic example. gwen did not compel them, ink5oul NEEDED their story to be told.

i honestly think this is the same for TMA. in many of those cases, the statement holders gave up those stories willingly, almost as if they needed to tell the story to achieve some kind of peace. it needed to mean something to somebody. jonathon sims did not compel most of those people, but instead acted as a vessel to consume their stories. he was not about compelling, but about consuming. there was a thirst for some kind of knowledge in him. he had to know, and that made him a perfect vessel for consumption. an archivist is really a glorified hoarder if you think about it. he's hoarding this information.

i personally don't think that the smirke categories matter at all. i don't think that's the point. i think the point is that they scared you and they meant something to you. the story was told, and you consumed it, and that gave it power. at the end of the day, the story was told. to categorize it is to take away meaning. if you think about it, a lot of the statements do not perfectly fit into one or even two categories. more often than not, you can assign 2-3 Fears to any one statement. and that takes away meaning, because categorizing it rationalizes it and takes away the fear.

OIAR employees are consumers. they, like us, are consuming the stories. some of the employees, like alice, stick it in a box and call it a day. others, like sam, ruminate and investigate (which ends up hurting people). i think that categorizing the stories takes away from the actual meaning, the actual point. i think that the OIAR's arbitrary categorization system is almost a critique of the smirke system and how we as an audience have latched onto it. it doesn't make sense. the stories don't fit into one category. alice says "nope, you have to pick ONE". i don't think there ARE categories, smirke or OIAR or otherwise. the only thing that matters is that you consumed it.

you can be alice or you can be sam. alice consumes the story and does not let it get to her. sam takes it and dwells on it and investigates it and gives it meaning and makes it real. sam found something in the institute because he looked for something. and because he found something, people got hurt.

and isn't that what we're doing? investigating. freeing this thing and letting it consume? when we consume, when we ask for more, people get hurt. all of these stories are about somebody in distress, and we feed on it. when we asked for a sequel, we were asking for more pain and more suffering.

i think we're sam and i think we're alice. sam consumes the conspiracy, and alice throws away the stories. because, let's face it, we aren't here for the grotesquely genius short horror story writing, we're here for the overarching plot. we categorize the story and put it in an arbitrary box, and we throw it away so we can focus on the conspiracy. the conspiracy that, if we feed into, hurts more people. maybe it hurts the characters we love.

i think that jonny and alex are enticing us with red herrings, with the promise of an overarching story (which we probably will get!), while also forcing us to listen to stories their friends wrote. we need to consume every bit of everything, and so jonny and alex use our attention to direct us to some really fantastic, lesser-known writers.

i also think that TMAGP is a critique on consumption. all of the statements, or at least most of them, are about wanting more, not being satisfied, or needing to be known.

this is pretty disjointed, and there are definitely some flaws in my line of reasoning, but i wanted to throw it out there. with all of this being said, i am still going to try to find an overarching plot because, let's face it, we are all jonathon sims.

Some other considerations that did not fit:

the entity in the newest episode identified itself as "an archivist" not "The Archivist". jonathon sims would refer to himself as The Archivist if it were him. this might be an archivist, or the leftovers of one, but it isn't Our archivist.

the OIAR as an organization doesn't actually know what it's doing, but it feels like there's something important about it and that's why it categorizes it. much like us. we think it's important so we consume it. but it might just be a damn good story

jmj is obviously jon, martin, and someone. i think it is jurgen, not jonah. jon, martin, and jonah are all avatars of the web in my opinion.

that being said, it is all the web and it always has been. jon was never an avatar of the eye. he was ALWAYS the web. it is all the web, and it still is

jon, martin, and jurgen are not trapped in the computer. they are remnants of themselves. this universe is controlled by the web, and since everything is connected, it knows that these 3 people are important but they aren't sure why, so they stuck their voices into something that is important. i don't think they are literally stuck in the computer as themselves, i think they're stuck in the computer horcrux style.

finally, shoutout to my father for the basis of a lot of these points. he knows what's up

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Spawn's Defeat | Yandere Father Franken Stein

Sitting atop the roof of the DWMA never got old. The wind whispered the town's secrets as the sun rose with a stiff smile. It just felt right to be there. You doubted anyone would understand if you told them. They had to be there to feel the magic of being at rest and seeing the sunrise after a night of battles. 

You’d hold their hand, as they stumbled on the misshapen peak and have to assure them as they shakily sat. You’d continue to hold their hand as they let their jaw drop and a breathy ‘whoa’ escape their mouth. Even better they’d shed a tear and lean against you as you watched the sunrise. It’d be then that’d you’d stand lending a hand as they stood, more sure of themselves, reentering through the window you came. Bonded by the beauty you shared on the roof of the DWMA.

Click!

A deep breath in.

A breath out. 

“Are you done?”

The familiar scent of smoke. And the gravelly uninterested voice of Franken Stein. A genius meister so masterful he can weaponize his soul. The DWMA’s resident doctor and teacher. And most regrettably your father.

“What’s it matter to you?”

An intake of smoke. You can sense the way he shifts the stick in his mouth, letting it hang on the side to impede his speech.

“Aren’t you my spawn? Aren’t you supposed to do whatever I say?”

You scoffed, “Is your screw loose? That doesn’t sound like any reality I know.”

You kept your gaze on the sun even as you registered the crouching heat on your back. The sound of the screw cranking rang closely in your ear; his smoke-stench breath heated the shell of your ear. 

“Nope. But maybe yours is.” 

At a speed all too familiar to you he reached for your own, only to clutch at the air as you jumped to an adjacent cone of the roof. Hanging with expert ease as he stood straight, retreating his hands to his pockets. 

“Yours needs to be winded. I’d rather do it now.”

He spoke at a moderate tone but the annoyance shone like the glass of his eye-wear. You looked down spying on the early students coming in you prepared yourself to somersault down.

Without a glance at him you spoke candidly,” I’ll have a friend do it.”

Stein watched, taking a tepid drag of his cigarette as he watched his creation merge with the uninteresting student body. 

_______________________________________________

The sun was nearly setting, lighting the nurse's room in an orange hue. Dramatically lighting the patient and her guests who looked down at her with various expressions. 

‘Ugh! Patty, you couldn’t have sprained both your ankles!? At the very least make your injury symmetrical for us!?”

“Kid! If you’re not going to be supportive then get the heck out of here!” 

“Y-yeah! Y-you didn’t even bring a gift! You’re so cruel.” 

Death the Kid upturned his nose letting one eye peer at the tearful pout of Patty. Liz glared at him with crossed arms, scoffing as she scanned the room. 

“Speaking of cruel where’s that screw-guy? We’ve been waiting here for a while now!” 

Death the Kid was the first to turn, recognizing the rising silhouette behind the adjacent curtain. Liz turned in to look in the same direction letting her eyebrow raise as you pulled back the curtain. 

“(Y-y/n)? W-wh–” Kid started, cut off by Liz,”(Y/n)? What are you doing here? You playing doctor today?”

You chuckled,” No no not today. Last I checked he went out to talk to Lord Death about something, said whoever ended up coming in would have to suffer by themselves for a bit.”

“Noooo!!!”

Patty wailed. Liz groaned rubbing a hand over her forehead before turning to the desk and the nearby medical supplies. 

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

“What!? But you’re barely literate in biology! What makes you think you can do that?!” 

Kid protested as Liz read and collected what she wanted in a box. She carried it to the playfully fainted Patty collecting the gauze and ointment from her collection. 

“Because I’ve done it before. Now move if you're not going to help.”

Kid scoffed folding the cuffs of his suit back. With a confident smile, he stepped towards Patty making her cower at the sheer determination in his eyes.

“Ha! As if! I will be helping to evenly spread the ointment and perfectly wrap the bandages! So that you’ll have perfect symmetry!”

“No! No! (Y/n) get him out of her or Patty won’t be the only one to wrap up!” 

You giggled. Stepping in front of Kid to lightly grab the same three tips of his fingers, pulling him in the direction of the door. 

“Come on Kid. Let’s step out for a bit.”

“W-w-we c-c-c-an’t knowing Patty s-she’ll j-just mess t-this up!”

Despite his vocal protests, he walked along with you letting you kick the door open to the empty hallway. When you stopped walking he couldn’t help but stare at your smiling face. Jumping with shock as he threw his hands up in the air, realizing you were no longer guiding him out of the room. He stiffly brought his hands to his sides, turning his head away as if to ease the heat spreading across his face.

“Kid?”

He jumped again, turning to you at lightning speeds. 

“Y-yes!” 

You tilted your head and puckered your lips, purposefully fighting the smirk on your lips as you fiddled with the collar of your uniform. 

“I-I need your help. My windup key…it needs to be turned.” 

The sentence brought his entire face to a red flush, turning away to dab at the dribble of blood that spilled from his nose. He turned back to you coughing as though he wasn’t the least bit flustered as he beckoned you forward. 

He closed his eyes preparing himself for the familiar and vulnerable sight of your windup key near your lower back. Only to open his eyes to see you, not turned around and instead unbuttoning your uniform's top. He flailed for a moment, freezing as you revealed the miniature key-crank in the valley of your chest. He reminded himself to breathe as he turned away bashfully letting his eyes trail to your own, which were looking coy and expectant.

“Y-you moved it…”

“I did.”

Your tone told him this was planned. That didn’t stop the blush that sat comfortably on his face as he turned it to the right. Winding it up as he had done so many times before, respecting the symmetrical horizontal placement that you had instructed him to. He let his hands linger registering the warmth of your body traveling through the metal to him. 

“(Y/n) I-” 

The door slammed open to Patty stomping out of the nurse’s office in a tangle of gauze. Liz seemed to follow struggling to follow because of the robotic gadget clinging to her leg.

“Wait! Pattie! Just ‘cuz the medicine is working does not mean you're healed! Hey!?”

You and Kid both just looked at the duo running down the hallway in absolute shock. Kid cursed under his breath turning to follow the two, abruptly stopping his pursuit to turn back to you. His mouth opened and closed, floundering to say something to your wide-eyed self. Before giving up, hanging his head for a bit before turning to run.

“I-I-I’LL TEXT YOU LATER! PATTY! LIZ!”

With that he shot off, leaving you in his nonexistent cloud of dust as he gave chase to his weapon partners. You let the creeping smile on your face fall as you turned to the opposite end of the hallway. Specifically glaring at the shadows of the unlit hallway as you clutched the opened ends of your uniform.

“How long did you plan to sit there and watch?” 

You sneered as the gray-haired man revealed himself turning his screw. He ignored you dryly snickering.

“Death’s kid? Really?” 

You scowled at him, hating the way you’re cheeks still heat up at such an obvious tease. You turned to walk away holding your head up high as you tried to rebutton your uniform. Much to your chagrin, he followed keeping a distance away from you as you went. 

“Whatever! Why don’t you just go back to doing your job?!”

“But I am. It’d just be so much easier if the patient was actually willing to take my help over a kid’s.”

You didn’t respond only speeding up, failing to lose him as he only did the same. This continued until you began just running at a full sprint still unable to lose him.

“Will you stop that!? You’re being a creep!” 

“Am I? It wouldn’t be all that creepy if you stopped running.”

“No! Stop it!” 

Spurred by the adrenaline of the chase you found yourself converting your casual sprint to the soul-powered running you’d do during battles. Darting at insane speeds out of the DWMA, sending any remaining students reeling through the effects of the intense air pressure. 

__________________________________________________________

As far as you were concerned the chase was still on and while you weren’t tired in the slightest, something else was slowing you down. Nonetheless, you hopped from rooftop to rooftop casually patrolling the town as well as evading the one chasing you. As luck would have it you did come across a foul soul already on its way to becoming a major threat. Directing your attention to attacking the mutated human, you launched yourself from the building. Using the momentum of your running and subsequent jumping you practically crushed the monster on impact. Splashing the cobblestone in a spurt of crimson blood leaves the floating red soul for you to collect. 

Without a second thought, you let yourself land collecting the naughty soul as you squeeze it in your hand. Usually, you would have continued forward, returning to the DWMA, eating it, or giving Death a call but today was different. Your head was foggy and your cheeks tickled. So instead of doing what you would have usually done, you brought the wisp up to your cheek giggling nonsensically at the feeling of it. Completely unaware of the counterpart launching from the shadows to kick you square in the chest. No doubt bending the metal that was haphazardly sticking out there.

Snap!

“O-oh no…” 

You drunkenly mused, letting your knees slowly descend to the bloodied ground. Curling against the pavement you began you let your eyes begin to close for a nap. Your newfound opponent would look curious before brandishing their weapon to attack completely unaware of the force being brought behind them.

“‘Oh no’ is right.”

Before it could register they were enveloped in electrifying pain, not only abusing the nerves of their body but its soul as well. And they could barely register the man with a screw in his head twisting it with a sick smile.

“Now usually I’d end you quickly but you’ve made a grand mistake and I’m not bored just yet.”

_________________________________________________________

“Can’t believe you’d be so idiotic to risk your life for something as stupid as this.”

“Don’t act like you know what I’m going through! It's deeper than just that!” 

“Hush. Patients don’t talk during open heart surgery.”

“Hmph.”

He watched you roll your eyes and pout as you let him work. With careful precision, he rewelded the removed key notches to his decorative metal piece. Inspecting the key for any incongruencies he let it hang in front of his sight, conveniently framing you in its design. He often wondered if he regretted implementing such a system on you. Disrupting your perfectly functional body with an inbuilt harness to nurture your ever-growing soul. But he knew well and good he felt no remorse for doing so; after all, it was his way of claiming you. While some may be satisfied with pure DNA, he figured he needed something more. Something he knew you’d need help with. His help with. 

Even if you denied it with all your might and abused it to lure unsuspecting weirdos, ultimately Stein had the key to your heart. More accurately your energy but he wasn’t one to be perfect.

“Are you done? I have things to do.”

He huffed sticking the key in its slot and turning it to the right. He continued winding it up with ease before shooting a spiteful gaze at the kid looking studiously through the window of his office. With a twitch in his eye, he turns the key abruptly to the left and officially presses it into you watching as it receded into your body; leaving only the filled lock on your chest. 

You sat up buttoning your shirt and grabbing your blazer on your way to walk out. 

“Thank you. Maybe next time don’t build with such faulty equipment.”

“Oh? Maybe next time don’t let random boys wind up your key. ”

“He’s not a random boy!”

“A random kid, who didn’t properly wind it up.”

“Whatever.” 

You dismissed him ducking out of the room to wrap yourself around the arm of said Kid. The adoring pair of golden orbs flicking to him in distaste, as you both passed by the window, only hardened the meister’s resolve.

“It’d be interesting…to defeat the spawn of Death. Right?”