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the-floral-perspective · 4 months

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More creepypasta headcannons!

+the women this time! Also these aren’t sexual, but there will be references to drinking, drugs and sex

And in most of these I am ignoring what is actually cannon so I’m sorry, I just like thinking more on the wholesome side of this fandom.

Also, I understand that Sally is like not at all like her OG story, but this is how I like to interpret her so please don’t hate!

Jeff the killer

Age: 22

Wine Problems: got citric acid rubbed into his healing mouth scar by EJ and Ben. (He splattered paint all over Ben’s gaming system Bc he wouldn’t give him free weed. EJ joined because of the “Tear-alliance”)

Head-cannons

“erm actually ☝🏻”

-He buys a lot of flip phones to prank the pastas. Specifically Ben, Jane and Hoodie. Tbh kind of a big bully. Also definitely steals slenders money.

-Lactose intolerant

-eats hot Cheetos like an mf

-he’s oddly spiritual??? But in a scared way, he thinks the gods are coming for him just cause 🤷🏻‍♂️

-he thinks he’s slick whenever he steals Slenders money, but slender knows.

-one time for a TikTok, he tried getting one of the pastas to do the candy man dance with him but no one wanted to join him except for Hoodie Bc he felt bad 😭

-every normal person thinks his TikTok is a devoted cosplayer, but he’s not.

-he’s actually really depressed about Liu, but he never rlly addressed it with himself. He just ignores it and him Bc he doesn’t know how to react.

Jane the Killer

Age: 23

Wine Problems: Sally accidentally got shoved by Jeff during a quarrel and now she has to get Sally to stop crying before Slender comes back from meeting his brothers.

Head-cannons

-makes so many funny faces to herself and actively talks to herself in front of people (and mid convo too)

-you will catch her pacing down the main hallway with headphones in when she’s angry.

-AWFUL BAKER idk HOW she just can’t bake. It always burns.

-her natural hair is shoulder length, black and curly.

-Her wife is a normal person (granted immunity from slender), her name is Lillian.

-Toby was the ring bearer for the wedding, Sally and Lazari (when she was young) were the flower girls. Lillian’s brother walked her down the isle, Toby walked Jane down the isle afterwards. Jeff at the reception gave a surprisingly good speech about Jane and their marriage… but then he got destructive drunk and had to be carried out Frank Gallagher style.

-she has a separate house and identity that she uses away from the mansion to be normal with her life and be the adult she couldn’t be.

-she’s never rlly at her other house tho.

-she loves having deep scientific talks with people to see their ideas and to read them better.

-she’s a really good person to talk to about passion projects Bc she’ll engage in your thoughts and use her knowledge to help you with whatever your stuck on or thinking of. She also hypes too.

-her and Kate are like the main watchers/caretakers of new pastas to make them feel comfortable.

-she is actively the only pasta who has seen Slenders human form.

Ben drowned

Age: 19

Wine Problems: Jeff and sally creating a doll out of Ben’s hair. The hair from his shower drain. Then them harassing him with it, trapping him in the livingroom TV.

Head-cannons

-The house dealer

-Everyone is trying to get all up in his business

-it takes him 20 minutes every morning doing his hair and skin routine.

-his favorite video game is RDR2

-chronic Jacksepticeye fanboy. Has attempted to see him on tour awhile back ago.

-his room is clean, but so weird. Like he has Minecraft posters and odd shit like that. He also has those LED lights on his walls and a really fucking expensive gaming setup.

-does not punch his walls.

-he has a pet tarantula named Bea.

-he chronically enjoys Pepsi. It’s kind of gross. Also he is HUGE on snacks, like he has a mini fridge.

-also to be allowed in his room you have to cashapp him 5$ if you’re in their for longer than 15 minutes for “wasting his time”

-he listens to a lot of French music and video game soundtrack to fall asleep.

-he LOVES Skyrim.

-he knows a lot abt tech since he’s a video game ghost/glitch, but it’s not his only personality.

Clockwork

Age: 20

Wine problems: recently started hearing voices after accidentally eating one of the special brownies in the kitchen. She’s in the corner in the living room having a bad trip. Lazari is behind her comforting her. (Clockwork currently doesn’t think she’s real)

Head-cannons

-asexual and aerosexual. They just are rarely attracted to people.

-LOVES low-rise jeans

-she’s like hella sarcastic and definitely has disorders (undiagnosed)

-for the most part she’s pretty quiet, speaks more with her hands than her mouth.

-tall af, like 5’11.

-whenever she gets a migraine you might as well shoot her since she has the clock in her eye 😭

-her favorite movie series is SAW. She has actively built some of the prototypes like the reverse bear trap.

-she collects animal teeth and bones.

-her room gives very much teenage dirtbag.

-after awhile she starts hating people she hangs around Bc she’s bad at setting boundaries. That’s one of the reasons she broke up with Toby.

-very passionate about politics and her assignments.

-she has a cat named Bubble, she’s a Siamese cat and she surprisingly cuddly. Bubble hates everyone but clockwork and sometimes she sits on Clockworks shoulder.

Ticci Toby

Age: 22

Wine problems: he was out getting groceries for the pastas and then a group of 13 yr olds started harassing him (he bought one of those lobsters in the water) until he went to his car.

Head-cannons

-buys the house groceries once a week.

-genuinely careless. Like he is so straight faced tbh. Unless you’re really funny and he’s seriously caught of guard.

-eats so much chocolate it’s insane. LOVES hot chocolate.

-his stutter does get better, but it’s still pretty present.

-he does not like Jeff. At all.

-sometimes he can be such an accidental dickhead. He does not know timing like at all.

-you will see him awake at 5AM eating salad.

-he love’s Hollywood undead almost an unreasonable amount. Borderline stalkery.

-excellent organizer and party planner, typically helps Kate with designing shit.

-he doesn’t really know how to feel about the pastas, he just rlly like Jane though. She reminds him of everything he’s lost.

-he loves to draw birds and birdwatching.

-he only kills his assignments.

Judge Angels

Age: 25

Wine problems: she spilled a glass of milk on smile dog and is currently hiding in her room until he goes away. Also got caught gatekeeping by Lazari.

Head-cannons

-can’t handle certain writing styles. Like she hates commas and all capitalized letters. They just grind her gears.

-her favorite food is mangos.

-tbh shopping addict. She’s always buying small trinkets and organizing boxes. On her way to becoming a horder. (Not really but kinda)

-probably one of the funniest pastas (if you unlock her first)

-sometimes she’ll randomly turn to a southern accent but she doesn’t realize it.

-easily cringable. She’s either giggling, lost or just staring. It’s kind of funny tho.

-She’s so bad at scheduling. She makes plans on plans and forgets other plans and it’s highly irritating. Almost every pasta gets annoyed at her for this.

-she makes a mean French toast.

-her closet consists of the same outfits repeated and she lacks confidence. She doesn’t gain much until she became friends with the girls of the mansion and they started introducing her to different feminine/masculine styles. She now comfortably represents androgynously.

-she has dimple piercings.

Puppeteer

Age: unknown

Wine Problems: the clown-posse (LJ, Jason and Candypop) are all on his ass because the past week all of them have seen him steal something of theirs at least once. LJ lost 5 items, Jason lost 2 and Candypop lost 3.

Head-cannons

-mischievous fucker.

- ‘swiper no swiping’ my ass.

-he’s seen the entirety of paw patrol and kind of loves the show?? It’s just so stupid, he loves making fun of it.

-has literally 0 sympathy and will laugh at your misfortune to your face.

-he can eat anything spicy without feeling it. Sour candy tho? You might as well shoot him.

-can’t handle his alcohol.

-calls the mansion his trap house.

-has a bit where he calls the pastas his whores since him and slender have similar powers.

-He’s not that much of a dick though, he won’t attempt to control someone unless they sign a contract.

-hates looking into mirrors, they make him depressed.

-has phases of sleeping 24/7 and staying up for days on end.

-don’t bother him when he’s snug as a bug in a rug, he will kill you if you interrupt him.

-he LOVES a good soft blanket. No matter where you will catch him with a cute blankie, as long as it’s soft. His favorite blanket is from Liu during their secret Santa Christmas celebration. It’s a navy blue blanket with white tiny flecks representing stars.

-sometimes he thinks really deep and looks at the sky at night, but he doesn’t understand much since he’s the personification of self-deletion. He has trouble understanding emotion and how he feels sometimes so he lashes out.

-sometimes he takes it bad when he thinks about how the pastas think he’s an asshole bc he wants to be seen as more than that but he never really shows that.

-British 😏

Nurse Ann

Age: 25

Wine problems: she woke up with both of her legs missing, someone (she doesn’t know who), stole her needle and thread. She can’t attach her legs until then, so far she’s been in her wheelchair. No luck.

Head-cannons

-her eyes are completely black.

-her favorite hobby is cleaning and sewing. Both of them just calm her down whenever she’s feeling jittery or anxious. For Christmas she sees a bunch of sweaters for the pastas.

-when she was 13 she worked at a local restaurant as a waitress.

-her legs come off if her stitches come undone. Sometimes the Pastas will purposely cut the thread as a joke. (It’s all in good fun tho, shes okay with it).

-plus sized

-can speak Spanish and French! She was one of those hella smart girls in class.

-she plays a lot of LoveNikki.

-she was a theater kid in highschool. Her school did sweeny Todd and she played Mrs Lovett.

-her and eyeless Jack are geniuses of the mansion. Ppl tried setting them up, but neither of them felt the vibe. They’re good acquaintances tho.

-Slender doesn’t send her out on much assignments since she’s normally so busy with the pastas injuries. The only reason why EJ goes out as much as he does is to get food— that he insists he can do by himself.

Bloody Painter

Age: 24

Wine problems: fell asleep while painting. His clothes is ruined and so is his painting. In his hella sassy feels rn. Totally sulking. Abt to drown himself in the shower.

Head-cannons

-snarky bitch.

-he LOVES white chocolate macadamia cookies.

-“wtf”

-he can’t HANDLE it whenever someone is watching what he’s doing or questioning his method of doing things. It makes a certain spring in his head snap.

-I’m ngl I think he’s always super tired. Probably cause he’s besties with puppeteer. Like this man is eepy, he’s a cute sleeper tho.

-he’s silent but scary. You will NEVER hear him coming. He could be behind you waiting and you genuinely would not notice until you’re dead.

-I feel like he spends a lot of time in his room painting, but whenever he gets an art block he might as well cry. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do when he can’t paint. His three options are; crying, reading or eating.

-Jeff is always joking around with him, but he doesn’t really play along with it… even tho he tries to get closer to a lot of the pastas. Jeff just isn’t one he’s interested being nice too.

-he watched miraculous ladybug once and almost cried.

Rouge

Age: 25

Wine problems: she accidentally ripped her pants and not in the cute way. Also her worn down converse she’s had since she was 15 finally wore out and broke down.

Head-cannons

-she’s not that messy, but for the aesthetic she can be. She’s not afraid of getting dirty.

-she has a dream journal that she writes in every morning Bc it helps her lucid dream. She only likes lucid dreaming Bc she feels in control, though this has accidentally lead to sleep paralysis.

-she’s super sensitive to the cold.

-she’s really good friends with clockwork.

-she’s honestly a creative genius. She loves literature and art and performance. Though sometimes she gets completely lost in her work.

-constantly in a state of escapism.

-she kind of reminds me of Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower. That’s probably her favorite movie too.

-she loves hanging around the girls of the mansion, they make her feel at home. Like she’s sm more comfortable around them than others. Sometimes when a new pasta arrives and they throw an honoring ceremony, the girl pastas will all get ready together in Slenders room! (His room is the biggest and he’s cooking all the food with the boys)

Masky

Age: 25

Wine problems: ran out of storage on his phone, now he has to delete the many photos and videos of him pranking Toby in his sleep.

Head-cannons

-he’s not as much as a dickhead as he seems, like he’s actually pretty chill and he has simple boundaries.

-he’s more of a loner if anything, the one person he like actually talks to tho is Toby and hoodie. Hoodie as an acquaintance and Toby as a little brother.

-sometimes he can get a little crazy, but that’s expected.

-he’s the easiest pasta to scare, this mf is JUMPY.

-he is a chronic shitposter.

-he loves self care tho. Like he’s always showering or getting shower stuff. He has like a collection of shower stuff.

-he used to have his ears pierced as a rebellion against his parents as a teen, but they closed. Sometimes he wishes he could get them repeirced.

-he’s like the type of guy who takes bubble baths a lot Bc he’s stressed all the time. Like he’s ALWAYS irritated abt something.

-you know he’d run a Walmart deli like his bitch.

-regardless, he takes his job too seriously and sometimes slender gets a lil concerned abt him Bc he literally gets crazy sometimes.

-rated T for ‘Too hard to work with’

Laughing Jill

Age: unknown

Wine problems: choked on a piece of hair and the next person that talks to her is getting the belt. Also couldn’t answer a simple math equation in a debate with hoodie so now everyone is calling her a bimbo.

Head-cannons

-she makes SO MANY TIKTOK VIDEOS, almost TikTok famous (she doesn’t show her or anyone’s face on cam)

-almost started a mukbang account.

-her and Jack came from the same Angel hence their name and design.

-she cried when watching the fnaf movie.

-she wears some odd earrings and she actually adds some color in her wardrobe too, unlike Jack.

-she is really into evanescence.

-has an aggressive southern accent (like Millie from Helluva Boss)

-southern lass girlboss sass idk

-she absolutely HATES water, like swimming is her biggest nightmare. She hates the ocean and ocean animals. They just creep her out.

-she’s not really close with anyone but she yaps sm. The one who tolerate it the most is probably Kate, Ben and Bloody painter.

-she’s been in a mosh pit a couple times and the first time someone threw a PB&J sandwich on her. She almost cried.

Hoodie

Age: 26

Wine problems: trying to keep control of the house. Put away the brownies, constantly cleaning. Is forced to give up once Jeff throws ice cream at the ceiling.

Head-cannons

-no matter where, he only wears converse.

-tbh think he watches some anime.

-I feel like if he ever was rapping he’d be really good at it.

-with assignments he’s one of the most efficient out of the mansion, some people don’t like him cause of it.

-he stays out of most peoples way, sometimes he’ll help Nurse Ann clean tho. He probably reads often with Sally too.

-he’s a loyal confidant to all no matter what and he’s relatively judgment free.

-he has an aggressive model walk, might as well call him Adriana Lima.

-him and Toby are like the only pastas with bad facial hair and sometimes in the morning they shave together 😭

-he cringes so hard knowing that there’s a whole fandom that he’s one of the stars in, like he thinks it’s a bit odd.

-ever since toby got high and went anonymous online, creating a fandom revolving around their house and friends. Things have been a bit wary between the two.

Sally

Age: physically 8, mentally 215

Wine problems: got accidentally shoved by Jeff (sobbing). Missing slender, also is tired of the bull going on in the house. Mf is abt to yell.

Head-cannons

-she totally gets annoyed at the pastas Bc they all treat her like she’s her physical age. Like I feel like this is something that genuinely pisses her off.

-even tho she is 215, she’s very childish, like she loves Disney and animated movies.

-She doesn’t really play with dolls but she has a collection of them in her room.

-She sometimes goes to school for fun to lurk out other possible pastas with bad home lives. (They wouldn’t get assignments until theyre 18 at least)

-she’s very easily disgusted by visuals or concepts. She can’t watch Wallace and grament without wanting to die.

-she was the one that started the idea of sending assignments for the pastas, Slender agreed Bc she’s basically the daughter he always wanted. (She’s also the one who suggested they make it like a business scheme to attract those meant to be apart of the pastas so they don’t have to scout ppl out.)

-she is very strong politically and she is very open with what she has to say.

-very creative and smart, she reads often on multiple different subjects. She can speak Russian, ASL, French, Spanish and she knows Morse code. She’s trying to learn piano or violin too. She’s essentially a prodigy.

-she’s teaching some of the other pastas different languages, specifically Kate and Rouge who want to learn Morse code.

-specific requests with assignments are ran By Sally before she goes to slender with them.

Laughing Jack

Age: unknown

Wine problems: losing his final straw with puppeteer. Is about to pour hot sauce in his eyes. Eagerly awaiting dinner and sleep. Genuinely one of the only times in his life he’s ever been exhausted.

Head-cannons

-he cries after sex, no matter what.

-he thinks EJ shouldn’t be called Jack when he came first as the first Jack, but everyone calls him LJ.

-very British.

-he compliments Bloody Painters art whenever he sees it.

-Jeff is always making jokes abt how old he is and it pisses him off. (He got asked if dinosaurs really had feathers.)

-for awhile on YouTube he did ASMR without showing his face.

-he doesn’t know how to drive at all and he has a horse collection of dolls. It’s kinda weird but the pastas think it’s bc he people used to ride carriages so that’s what Jack is most used to seeing. They’re not wrong.

-he doesn’t really like music, it’s so loud for his sensitive earbuds.

-he can genuinely hear everything.

-the only movie he cried at was the Freddy Mercury movie.

Lazari

Age: 16, appears however she wants to.

Wine problems: grounded for stealing a cat, can’t go to the mansion so she’s angsty and listening to old Evanescence. Also lookin a lot like Ramona Flowers rn (blue hair version)

Head-cannons

-she eats a LOT of icecream sandwiches.

-she reads a lot of comics, her favorite comic character is Raven (Rachel Roth) Bc she relates to her backstory a lot.

-before she knew her dad, she had a creepypasta fan account. Zalgo forced her to delete it.

-when Unus Annus ended she didn’t leave her room for a week. She was a MESS

-she influenced Candypop hella when getting into the Scott Pilgrim vibe and dying hair. She was his biggest supporter.

-she reads a LOT. She used to love Twilight too.

-she was a huge Percy Jackson nerd. She wants to play Thalia in a live action series.

-if you didn’t notice she’s rlly into pop culture.

-her and Sally remain best friends Bc Lazari is the only one who gets that Sally isn’t actually 8 years old despite her looking that way.

-I’m ngl her assignments from zalgo are mostly women.

-she is a very sassy young lady. Like she says some of the most out of pocket shit and it’s so funny. The pastas have witness Lazari telling Zalgo off and it’s so silly.

Jason The Toymaker

Age: unknown

Wine problems: the last person he killed is being a nuisance and wreaking havoc in his office. Also got his spell book destroyed, so Slender ordered another one for him.

Head-cannons

-he takes hella fashion inspo from the labyrinth.

-he REFUSES to smell bad or to live bad. Like he likes his stuff at the highest quality. It’s kind of silly.

-all of his clothes is made from spider silk.

-he watches a lot of plays and musicals, genuinely loves orchestras and stuff like that.

-his nails are super sharp and he kinda hates it Bc he can’t do anything with his hands and Jeff edited him to have pink nails saying Periodt 😭 and it became a huge meme in the groupchat.

-tbh he’s kind of an oracle, like he can tell what someone’s future is going to be like. He doesn’t do it on purpose but he’s somehow always right.

-this comes in tie with his assignments. He mostly deletes preteens and teens Bc he can see their future. He’s necessary for deleting future aggressors. He deletes more than his assignments tho.

-sometimes he gets emotional when watching Disney movies Bc he thinks of found family as the creepypastas.

-ice age makes him sob so hard. Don’t tell anyone tho, he’s embarrassed.

Zero

Age: 25

Wine problems: her scarf got stolen and her cat, Maple is hiding behind the TV Ben was previously trapped in.

Head-cannons

-she is very out of the loop. Slenderman had to seriously correct her spirit once she joined. She was way too much for him and the Pastas to handle. Now it’s like a venom situation where Alice and Zero take turns with Alice’s body.

-she has a very distinct style.

-for awhile her and LJ were kind of into each other, but she got the ick once and never looked back.

-she has very random violent outbursts that are hard to deal with. Slender has a detector on her to keep an eye. She’s probably the most defiant creepypasta.

-Jeff and her hooked up once and were in a very toxic relationship that lasted 2 months. Now they ignore each other and act like they don’t exist.

-she is highly into herself. Totally has a smexy twitter account.

-for as long as she’s been with the pastas, she has grown to care for them, though she doesn’t really show that at all. She doesn’t take it personally or care how they feel about that.

Homicidal Liu

Age: 24

Wine problems: accidentally got caught up in teenage drama while bird watching at the nearest park. He’s trying to find a way to back away from the group of teens without drawling their attention. It isn’t working.

Head-cannons

-he doesn’t remember Jeff or his family.

-if you give him orange chicken he’s gonna flip a chair and rip open his shirt.

-he’s able to stomach anything but he will totally critique your food, he does not care.

-his voice is really quiet and sultry.

-he doesn’t really understand or comprehend the spirituality involving Slenderman and other pastas, but he’s put off by it.

-*NSYNC fanboy.

-his favorite movie is probably house of 1000 corpses.

-his scarf was a birthday gift from Jeff from way back when.

-Liu only kills his assignments and no one else. He doesn’t really think about what he does, like he’s confused and very out of it. Though he gets along nicely with the other pastas, he’s respected by everyone there.

-Liu genuinely eats so much food but he doesn’t mean to. Like he loves eating. He’s definitely the kitchen cutie.

-he gets carsick hella bad.

Nina the Killer

Age: 20

Wine problems: couldn’t find her stockings and slender logged her out of the hulu account as punishment for throwing a meatball at the wall during dinner yesterday.

Head-cannons

-bisexual

-her favorite movie is definitely corpse bride, she is Emily, Emily is her.

-honestly she’s kind of a popular loner in the mansion. Like she’s friends with everyone, but she spends time alone a lot.

-definitely class clown material tho.

-she doesn’t crush on Jeff anymore 😭 she’s still demented like that tho.

-one of the only other pastas that kill outside of her assignments from slender. She kills whoever slender and Sally tell her too, but after that she grows obsessive over kind strangers and ends up killing some of them too Bc she can’t handle it.

-she isn’t allowed out often, most of her assignments are required at night to lessen her obsessiveness.

-she doesn’t really obsess over the pastas in the mansion since she’s already used to them. Jeff got lucky with her Bc once he started reciprocating feelings she lost interest 😭

-if she really wanted to, she could literally do anything within 10 minutes. Like she is FAST and hella energetic and such a diva.

CandyPop

Age: unknown

Wine Problems: keeps getting his antiques stolen by Puppeteer. Killed someone with asthma and they hit their inhaler just to blow the smoke out in his face. Mf was flabbergasted.

Head-cannon

-no one knows how he came to be, not even slender 😭 Candypop himself doesn’t even know.

-overtime his purple and blue colors started switching up.

-he says he’s exactly like Ramona flowers. Scott pilgrim vs the world is his favorite movie. Ramona is his favorite character.

-he’s a straight up asshole in a Sheldon Cooper type of way.

-everytime he’s drunk, everyone leaves the house Bc of how annoying and clingy he is.

-DO NOT tell this man your secrets. Everyone will know right as soon as you say “don’t tell anyone I did this, but…”

-he cannot drive, do not trust him in the drivers or passengers seat. Somehow he will fuck it up.

-he’s BESTIES with Clockwork.

-one time he dyed his hair green and it actually looked so terrible on him but EVERYONE was hyping him up, it was so bad.

-he loves going to Denny’s at nighttime Bc he feels special for how he looks. Or Walmart. He LOVES Walmart.

Kate the chaser

Age: 26

Wine Problem: currently trying to calm the chaos before Slender and Toby get home. Also accidentally ate a special brownie while on her antidepressants after downing 3 shots of vodka (don’t do this yall). Straight up tripping balls rn.

Head-cannon

-Fiona Gallagher coded.

-dresses up as a pirate every Halloween and she’s definitely the one who makes all the Christmas cookies.

-she always decorates the house for holidays.

-since she’s Jewish, she also has a Hanukkah setup too for the other Jewish ppl there.

-definitely vegetarian.

-probably the most fit and strong pasta next to Jeff and the supernatural ones (E: LJ, EJ, Candypop, Jason)

-she’s one of the originals.

-she had a short fling with Laughing Jill. They’re like an on and off power couple tbh.

-she bought a vibrator off of wish one time and Jeff opened her package Bc he thought it had his name on it. (Jeff had an odd bruise on his nose afterwards)

-she cuts her own hair and as a joke puts it on Ben’s pillow so that he’ll think someone dyed his hair. Cracks her up everytime istg.

-she drinks coffee like it’s nobodies BUSINESS.

Eyeless Jack

Age: 25

Wine problem: Has to help Ben torture Jeff. Also got lost in the woods for two hours looking for his next target, Toby found him and picked him up once he got back from the grocery store.

Head-cannon

-is normally the last person to find out drama or news.

-has almost walked in on so many creepypastas in the bathroom. The only reason he stops is because he can see the heat light.

-sometimes can’t tell if he’s just hallucinating Bc of how his vision works.

-if you take a picture with flash, his eyes will glow like a cats.

-buys clothes in incorrect sizes all the time. Toby has to go pants shopping for him often.

-the only time he can see normally is with his human disguise on.

-he’s definitely Greek, like his mom was definitely from Greece and his dad American. He can speak Greek and Spanish Bc of highschool. English is his second language.

-he used to get made fun of for the black tar on his mask looking like tears until Ben came along and they started the tear alliance. (They’d defend each other whenever one got teased)

-I feel like whenever he’s hungry he gets increasingly more deranged. So sometimes if he’s too depressed to get his own kidneys, someone else will have to get some for him ASAP.

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bunny-lily · 16 days

Text

Tether Me - Chapter 1

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: “Jesus!” You shrieked and jumped with all the elegance of a newborn fawn, spinning on your heel to find a head of blindingly white hair and pearly canines equally as eye-burning greeting you through a wide grin. Though you couldn’t see the man's eyes behind those curiously round shades of his, you could picture how his cheeks crinkled his hidden hues at the corners.

If any of the Greek or Roman gods were real, he’d outshine every one of them without breaking a sweat.

AN: no particular additional warnings for this chapter. I'll add new warnings for any chapters that might require them (for example, nsfw)

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3

WC: 15.3k

Seeing your new…home in the unforgiving glare of daytime made you realize that the realtor spent more time photoshopping the box of danger to make it appear appealing than actually selling it. Gave it to the first poor buyer that bit the bait and dashed off.

Said poor buyer was you. Apparently.

A rickety bamboo fence, chipped and scratched by god knows what, wrapped loosely around your property, the pathetic poles clinging to life by threads about as strong as spider silk. Quite the sad barrier. Honestly, you had no idea how it managed to remain upright this long at all.

The description on the site you found it on was very, very vague with anything regarding the building. Even with your prodding, the most you generally got was “well, nobody died in it, and it’s still standing.”

Good enough for you, clearly, considering you slapped the Sold! sign on the damn listing yourself maybe 30 minutes and a glass of wine (or three) after finding the soggy, depressing shack.

Granny was right. This thing was a damn mess. It should have been condemned ages ago.

You couldn’t decide if it was bigger or smaller than you expected. Somewhat disproportionate was the best way you could put it. The terrain surrounding it was much more expansive than the photos showed, the boundaries only sort of marked out by the aforementioned sad barrier. It was considerably isolated, which you weren’t really complaining about, but you noted way too late that taking care of all that overgrown grass was going to be a nightmare on your back. Arms, too. Every part of your body, honestly.

The building itself had certainly seen better days, such as the day it was built, and perhaps the day after, if you were being generous. The agent was very shifty about exact details, but in his defense, this place was basically in the Bumfuck Middle of Nowhere, Japan, in likely one of the smallest countryside villages there was in the whole country.

You were also substantially intoxicated and ready to put down your life savings on anything.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to go that far, but you truly underestimated the scope of this ‘project’. The entire plot needed a fresh splash of paint at minimum. Ideally, you needed to shear the lawn of all those super pretty weeds that you were very tempted to just leave as is because they were so pretty, mhm, would be an absolute shame to get rid of them.

You’d need to clear out the stone path leading from the fence gate to your front door that you quite literally stumbled over last night. Or just toss the stones altogether, because fuck those things and whoever put them there.

The outer walls needed a good scrubbing, and another, and one more for good measure. Quite a few shingles on the roof showed signs of being ready to split your skull open with only a wayward breeze needed to push them off the edge. The hinges creaked horribly on every part of the building, enough so that you were certain the entire village would’ve been awoken by you tripping over yourself to get into the house had you not been a decent 10 or so minute walk from the closest cottage.

And all of this was just what was outside.

That fence, ugly little shit that it was, was either going to become your worst nightmare, or a begrudging friend.

You noted with mild interest that your house resembled western abodes more than Japanese ones.

Maybe if you kept the place rundown, people wouldn’t think to stop by your place unannounced. Ah, what a delight that would be. If you were lucky, nobody knew the property had been sold yet. If you were extra lucky, you could get your shopping done (plus whatever other errands you couldn’t do from home) by keeping your head down, and none would be the wiser to your existence.

Aside from Granny, of course. Kinda hard to hide from that woman now that she’d given you food off her own back. You needed to do something in return, but you set that on the back burner for now.

The interior required basically everything to be fixed up, that was non-negotiable. You refused to sleep on crusty wood floors and old tatami that had long since been glued to the surface beneath with gods know what. At the very least, you needed to somehow clean the floor. Preferably, mend the walls, plug any holes, get the pipes functioning if they weren’t already, and a whole other fuckin’ list of soul crushing deeds that needed completion.

Furniture, while questionably not a necessity for survival, was definitely a need for you. If only so you had something to sleep on other than the basically flat, nylon bag laid out in the corner of the room you gracelessly snored within.

But how?

You planted your hands on your hips and exhaled through your nose. “I wonder if Amazon ships to this place…”

A pipe dream, certainly; but, gods, would it make your life so much easier.

You could try to build your own furniture, but you trusted running with scissors more than you trusted your own potential handiwork. Which meant repairing the house itself on your own was likely a very bad idea.

“Ah, fuck,” you hissed as you realized the other shit you’d need to do aside from creating an actual proper space to live. “I’ll have to learn how to sew and garden and fucking carpent and everything…”

You groaned as you pictured every task that awaited you, and subsequently buried your face in your hands. Maybe you should have just torn the whole fucking thing down, bought a plastic shed from the nearest city, dragged it over, set it up, and called it home sweet home. You didn’t need that much space anyway, right?

“No, can’t regret this now, too late to regret this, you chose this,” your voice was muffled and grit out through clenched teeth. “Made your bed, now sleep in it, idiot.”

“Yeah, kinda dumb choice, if you ask me.”

An unexpected voice originated from behind you, startling the living daylights out of you and shooting your heart straight out of your body.

“Jesus!” You shrieked and jumped with all the elegance of a newborn fawn, spinning on your heel to find a head of blindingly white hair and pearly canines equally as eye-burning greeting you via a wide grin. Though you couldn’t see the man's eyes behind those curiously round shades of his, you could picture how his cheeks crinkled his hidden hues at the corners.

If any of the Greek or Roman gods were real, he’d outshine every one of them without breaking a sweat.

The warming late-spring wind grazed through the fluffy locks of his hair like the delicate touch of a lover’s hands, weaving through the fine strands and carrying his scent to you.

Mixed with the heat of the approaching humid season, you caught faint hints of sweetness, with an underlying minty tone and something you couldn't name. He was too far away for you to pinpoint the exact fragrance, but you had no intention of just skipping right over and shoving your nose against the junction of his neck to get a better whiff.

Or maybe his chest? The way he was slouching made it difficult to gauge his height, but you had a feeling he was a great deal taller than you, and the stout slope you stood on would do you virtually no favors.

The shiver that went up your spine at the thought was promptly ignored.

“Not quite,” the unfairly gorgeous stranger replied with a snicker from where he leaned against the fence, arms slotted between the bamboo sticks. How it held him up without crumbling into dust was a miracle in itself. “But I’m flattered.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you placed your hand against your chest, trying to will the wretched thing to calm down. Handling adrenaline was not your forte, much less from a scare like this. With your eyes narrowed, and only partially because of the accursed brilliance that was coming summer, you glared at the man. He was far too relaxed and cocky for your liking, still sporting that goofy grin that had you feeling things you didn’t want to address now.

Or ever.

“Who are you?” You queried.

“I should be asking you that, pretty girl.”

Your nose wrinkled incredulously. “Pretty girl?”

He chose to overlook your objection, instead nodding towards your house. “Never thought I’d get to witness this shithole get bought by anyone, let alone someone like you. Thought it’d get torn down sooner than have a hundred yen tossed towards it.”

Your eyes rolled. Hard. He wasn’t wrong, it was a shithole, but now it was your shithole. The less reminders about its miserable state of existence you had, the better. “Gee, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Completely against your will, you snorted. He was going to be a wonderful source of entertainment, or he was going to be a thorn in your side, just like the sickly sticks under his arms. The jury was still out on it.

You stared at one another for a few seconds that dragged on too long before you raised a brow. “Weeeell…?” You drew out the word.

His head cocked to the side. “Well?”

“Your name. You never told me who you are.” You knew it was polite to introduce yourself first, but fuck that, he scared the hell out of you. The responsibility was on him.

“Oh, right,” he straightened up, then bent forward with one hand to his chest and the other outstretched sideways in an extravagant bow. “Gojo Satoru, the very one and only. What about you, sweetheart?”

Pet names aside, there was a debate in your mind, an argument between whether you should give the admittedly attractive stranger your real name, or create one on the spot. You had done the latter in your later months of running all over your home country like a chicken without a head under the stupid belief that it'd further separate you from the anxieties clinging to your shins.

You were paranoid. That was easy enough to decipher.

Your conscience had spawned this nerve wracking idea that those you ghosted – from scorned lovers who scarcely got further than kissing you, to the jobs and employers you abandoned suddenly – were after you.

It left you constantly scanning your 6 from over your shoulder with the fear that they’d come chasing you down, eager to dig their claws into your paper-kite flesh and permanently force you down. You could visualize them tearing through your wings, winding layers of rope around your throat and knotting the dangling strings so tightly that not even the sharpest blade could break through the binds, much less let you breathe. So, you frequently lied about your identity as much as you could.

You inhaled slowly through your teeth, not enough to whistle, but enough to ground you. You were on the complete other side of the world, far away from those who would care to snarl and bare their fangs at your heels as they ran faster than you could – if there were any who desired to at all. You were somewhere new, somewhere unfamiliar, a place where nobody knew you, or could possibly know you by any means.

You told not a soul about where you’d gone. You never did. Like ash in the wind, you disappeared faster than anyone could blink, any memory of smoldering embers long forgotten.

Maybe…maybe you were safe to at least slip forth some truth about yourself.

Like most things you did nowadays, you told him your real name on a whim, and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

He hummed as he repeated it to you, as if testing it on his tongue, dipping in for a small taste. Then, that stunning grin returned, and your heart fluttered behind your ribs.

You stubbornly stamped your heel down onto it. You didn’t know why it decided to start acting up, but you were not going to entertain it.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he cooed. “What brought you here of all places? So rich you’re bored? Fell for a scam? One of those girly things?”

You scoffed.

“Or maybe you’re running from something.”

The blood in your veins froze over in an instant, your body going rigid as you stared at him. He…he couldn’t have known, right? The way he stated it, rather than asked – like he knew – had you struggling to swallow, to so much as twitch your fingers. There was no way. You– you were nobody, a blank slate, an outsider–

His head cocked to the side playfully, and the spell he had cast on you withered away as quickly as it came.

Finally able to breathe again, you vented out the air you unknowingly held and turned your face slightly away, hoping he didn’t catch your slip-up. “One of those girly things,” you settled, to which he nodded eagerly, as if you just confirmed the existence of a theory of his that ‘girly things’ were real.

Not that he was wholly wrong, technically, as you did have ‘one of those girly things’ urges from time to time. The desire to cut or dye your hair, pick up a new name, rearrange your room, or hop on a plane to the furthest fucking location you could imagine.

“Why’d you choose this…thing then?” Gojo jerked his chin towards the shabby hut.

“It was cheap,” you answered simply.

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Where are you staying?”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked at him, your brow knitting. “...Here?”

“...Here.”

“Here.”

There was a brief pause, then he burst into laughter, his arms hugging his stomach. “Oh, god,” he wheezed. Personally, you couldn’t find what was so funny about the situation. “You serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His finger slipped under the right lens of his glasses, presumably to wipe a tear away as he worked on calming himself down. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Fire flared in your veins as opposed to ice this time. “Hey!”

“I mean, seriously, who in their right mind would stay inside that thing?”

Your lip curled over your teeth in a snarl. “Oi–”

He bulldozed right along, completely ignoring you. “There’s gotta be, like, ghosts in there. Or a shit ton of spiders. Lots of spiders, actually.”

That got your attention. A shudder shot up your back and you squealed in fright, shaking off your hands to rid yourself of the phantom feeling of creepy crawlies on your skin. “Spiders?”

The milky-headed male nodded staidly. “Tons. And, y’know, the other obvious health hazards. I bet there’s asbestos in those walls.”

You opened your mouth to argue that your house had only been abandoned for 20 years, and that asbestos had been cut out of usage some 40 odd years ago, until you remembered that 1) asbestos didn’t immediately go out of use when the dangers were revealed, and 2) you house was abandoned 20 years ago, not built 20 years ago. Who knows how old it actually was?

Given its appearance…

He must’ve seen the panic on your face, because he gave you a piercing smile, an expression you very swiftly understood was one of scheming. “You should come stay with me.”

The world halted around you for the seconds it took your mind to process what he said. “...Hah?”

“I said, you should come stay with me,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly. “I have spare guest rooms.”

“I– you– stay with– what?”

The grimace he gave your house could only be described as ‘execrating’. “I mean, come on, you’re not really thinking of staying there, are you? You’ll be sending yourself to an early grave like that, you’re too cute to die so soon. Just come stay at my place.”

Was he a murderer?

Your brain finally caught up with a click and you scowled. “Oh, yeah, that’s super safe,” you responded sardonically. “New girl in a new town full of total strangers with who-knows-what motives, lemme just go stay with the first guy that invites me to his home.”

“Come onnnn, you can trust me,” he whined, pouting.

“I literally just met you.”

The ease with which he gave up gave you whiplash, having expected him to keep pushing. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “Hey, did you know that your backdoor doesn’t have a lock?”

You paled.

Definitely something a murderer would say.

Your head whipped to gawp at your dwelling with wide eyes, a full on war raging through your head now.

On one hand, yes, he was a complete and total stranger. A hot one, but still an unknown entity who could just be buttering you up. Maybe the reason the house had been abandoned for so long was because anytime a new owner came in, they got snatched up by the handsome boy who invited them just like he invited you, never to be seen again.

He could have been lying about the lock – though it honestly didn’t matter, someone could probably just break through a wall if they pushed hard enough on it.

On the other hand, if he was telling the truth (how did he know that? Why?), he was the only person you knew even a little in this itty bitty isolated village (Granny doesn’t count). Anyone could go through that door at night and there you would be, wrapped up in your shitty, thin sleeping bag, prime kidnapping material. You basically did all the hard work by tying your own limbs right up yourself, easiest catch of the century.

At the very least, you knew Gojo’s name and face. Granted, the first item there was debatable, but he didn’t seem like the type to lie about his name – boast about it, more like. You’d be already acquainted with your would-be assailant, so it’d be nice to know the face of your kidnapper-slash-torturer-slash-killer, if only so you could punch a picture of it over and over in your afterlife, wherever death may take you.

You shifted your gaze to him and crossed an apprehensive arm over your chest, propping your elbow up on it while you pinched your chin in consideration.

There he was, the sly rat, wearing that dumb (cute) (no) grin of his as always, patiently awaiting your answer as if he already knew it. Nothing about him seemed inherently dangerous on the surface, but don’t they say serial killers are charming and charismatic people? He was a bit energetic for a murderer, though.

You weighed your options carefully. You could spend another horrid night in your house with the knowledge that there were likely insects everywhere, and possibly even asbestos in the walls, and who knows what else. You’d have to brush your teeth by using your water tumbler again, and…oh, fuck, you hadn’t even thought about the bathroom yet. How were you going to shower? Wash your face? Do your business?

Then there was your poor excuse of a bed, more plastic than anything even remotely comfy. Same with the pillow, you might as well have been sleeping on the bare ass floor. Your neck ached at the thought. Then there was your food issue, your clothes, your devices…

You sighed.

“What’s the catch?” You questioned reluctantly.

He merely raised his hands in a shrug. “No catch.”

That was way too easy, but the prospect of an actual bed and a tidy (hopefully) homestead was too good to pass up, serial killer owner be damned.

Future you was just getting more and more tasks thrown at her, such as your new objective being to find an inn to live in while you figured out your home issues. And getting a job to afford said inn. But that was for way later, when you weren’t losing your goddamned mind.

“...Fine,” you surrendered. Like a pussy. Weak.

“Yippee!” Satoru cheered, somehow smiling wider. “Good girl, knew ya had a brain somewhere up there.”

Your stomach flip-flopped at the simultaneous praise and insult, confusing your head with emotions (and hormones) that you did not want to unpack. Cheeks reddening rapidly, you hissed at him through a tight jaw, shooing away the kindling something that pooled in your tummy. “You–”

“C’mon,” he interrupted you before you could even start, already turning to leave as he waved his hand over his shoulder, “I’ll show ya the way. Ain’t far from here.”

Flustered, you stuttered indignantly, watching him walk away. You shook your head in defeat and jogged to catch up to him, needing to speed walk to match his ridiculously long strides. “Oi, slow down! You’re too damn tall!”

“You’re just short,” he argued, his hands interlocking as they rested against the back of his head. “Pipsqueak.”

You gasped in offense as if you weren’t at tiddy-sucking height. “I am not a pipsqueak!”

“You totally are,” he purred, treating you like you were some sort of adorable pet. “I bet I could pick you up and throw you if I wanted.”

An unwitting laugh bubbled out of you, and for some reason, you decided to play this frivolous game of his. “I’d like to see you try.”

You immediately regretted it as he reached out for you with a shit-eating expression of absolute delight, making you yelp and race off ahead of him, screeching as he chased right after you.

“Wait, no, don’t!” Your voice rang clear, fright mixed with childlike thrill spreading to your limbs as you scurried down the open road. “I was kidding!”

“Get back here!”

The wind blew past your ears, tangled into your hair, followed the curves of your body as you darted about alongside it. You let it guide you, toy with the fabric of your shirt, cup your face with cool hands. You breathed deeply, and you flew, untethered and free and so overwhelmed.

Somewhere above, beyond the boundless and endless cerulean, a star flickered.

You screamed when you felt his hands pinch your waist, catching Satoru’s devilish gleam as he passed you, and suddenly, you were the one chasing him. He cackled as you tried to catch up to him, taunting you all the way.

Curse his long legs.

You wondered how he managed to keep talking so cleanly and easily while you were struggling to maintain your breath and gait.

All those years of metaphorical running, sadly, did not translate into actual, physical running. Air stung your throat, and you only faintly recognized that you were running after him through the village, more focused on keeping that head of ivory tresses in sight.

Yet, somehow, contrary to how concentrated you were on that task, he managed to slip from your view when he turned a sharp corner and seemingly passed through an invisible barrier of some kind. He had to, because when you turned that same corner just seconds later, he was nowhere to be found.

Slowing your sprint into a trot, then stopping altogether, you bowed over and planted one hand on your knee while the other clutched your side.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, your body aching in several places, both internal and external. “I almost regret skipping gym in school.”

Peeking up through your hair to check around, every part of the street you were on seemed innocuous, normal, without any obvious hiding spots Satoru might have jumped into.

The vertically dominant fucker.

Cautiously, you marched forward, breathing heavily as you took slow steps. The game of cat and mouse had turned into hide-and-seek, and the sucker chose not to warn you. Granted, you would have done the exact same thing, but it was within your right to bitch about it, you were at several disadvantages.

The first alley was clear of anything, even objects. Nothing more than a small gap between two buildings, you doubted he would’ve managed to squeeze in there given how giant he was. Plus, where would he have gone even if he did wiggle into it?

The next alley was the same story. There was more space, but very little within said space, only a couple crates that were too small to hide him. Again, giant.

Everything, you belatedly realized, was completely uncharted territory to you. You should have listened to Granny and explored the village first. But, if you had, maybe you wouldn’t have a real bed to sleep in tonight. Presumably. You were putting too much faith into Gojo being genuine about the bed – and not being a serial killer – otherwise you were sleeping outside.

“Bastard.” The pain in your hip subsided and you righted yourself, inspecting every direction for any indication of white hair. It would be significantly difficult to hide that feature in an area like this, where pretty much everything had a neutral-dark colored theme, and most people had black or brunette hair.

You wondered why he was towheaded. A question for another day.

He was a magician, or trickster, you ruled, rather than acknowledging the fact that he knew this town far better than you did and likely would for a while to come.

Grumbles passed through your lips as you stood akimbo, squinting at everything skeptically. “Where the hell–”

“Boo!”

You swear your soul ascended. You could picture the trail it left behind as it rose into the heavens, pulling with it a choked croak of terror from you. The sound could hardly be considered a shout, you resembled a frog more than you did a goat in the screaming department.

Demented cackling erupted behind you as you leapt forward and clutched your chest, swinging around to glower at the boy in utter disbelief. Twice now he had done this. Twice! Beside yourself, you rushed over towards him and smacked his arm repeatedly, which only fueled his laughter. “Dick!”

“Fuck!” Satoru heaved, reaching his whistle register. “Priceless! Oh, my god, you should have seen your face.”

“I’m gonna kill you!” The threat was far less menacing than you wanted when your own voice was as squeaky as his.

By the time he calmed down, you were both panting – you out of chagrin (and for the sake of your poor heart), and him to get precious oxygen back to his smooth brain.

“I’m serious about that, by the way,” you pouted at him. “I’m gonna kill you for scaring me. Again.”

He beamed at you and reached to pat your head, but was intercepted by your hand, only to dodge around it and manage to get a few head pats in anyway. “Sure you will, sweets.”

You growled and stomped a few steps away, stopped, then whirled back around when you remembered you had no idea where you were going. He simply crossed his arms over his chest and scrutinized you with that stupid, supercilious visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged eagerly. “Ask.”

The inside of your cheek was going to be sore from how much you were chewing it. You were at an impasse; let him win, or try to find his place on your own. With no idea what it looked like. Or what direction to even go.

You imagined you’d have better luck wearing a blindfold if you tried the latter option. Either way, he was going to win, you could acknowledge that. Conceding and requesting his continued guidance meant handing over his victory on a silver platter, or he’d get some decent entertainment out of watching you try to figure out where the hell he lived.

Gods, you were regretting moving here already.

“Show me how to get to your house,” you mumbled.

The tall freak fake-cooed at you. “Aww, come on, you can do better than that.”

If glouting could kill, you would be slow-roasting him over a grill. In the meekest voice you could manage, you muttered, “please.”

“Hmmm?” He canted closer towards you. “Didn’t quite catch that.”

You could feel your sanity draining like sand in an hourglass. Just to get it over with, you spoke properly. “Please show me how to get to your house.”

The jubilant grin he gave you had you reconsidering that blindfold idea you had. “Better! Good girl, come along, now.”

Oh, your insides could just melt.

No, you argued with yourself as you trailed behind him, reluctantly obedient. You are not getting horny over that, you sad sack of potatoes. You’re just pent up. A pretty boy calls you a good girl and you’re a sobbing mess under your pants.

Pathetic.

He whistled a sharp tune as he lazily led you, weaving around the architecture in such a way that you knew you never would have found the damn place on your own – or find your way back, for that matter. He was doing this on purpose to get you confused just to fuck with you, you knew it.

You were placing a lot of stock in him not being a murderer.

“Keep up, shortie,” he waved his fingers over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

Taking a (albeit mild) hike up a road traveling up the mountainside was not something you expected nor planned for. Now you were lamenting skipping gym. Not that participating more in exercise over a decade ago would help you currently, but at least you’d be able to believe you were stronger than this.

Satoru watched you with no small amount of amusement as you finally caught up to his still figure, lips curved. “Man, you suck at this.”

“I didn’t exactly study hiking in school,” you grumbled, closing your eyes and breathing deep.

“I’d hardly call a walk ‘hiking’,” he commented, and you wimpishly smacked his arm. “We gotta work on your stamina.”

You could hear the smirk and underlying innuendo without needing to see his stupid, handsome face.

“In your dreams, pretty boy,” you muttered.

“How do you know what I dream about?”

Your eyes popped open to glare at the man as he fluttered his lashes and pressed his fingers to his chest. “You’re a menace,” you scowled, ignoring his faux ‘innocence’ in favor of looking ahead.

And getting the wind utterly knocked out of you.

This grandiose mansion was where he lived?

Balking, you stared up at his house from beneath the arch of the moon gate in front of it, taking in the sheer magnitude and extravagance of it, even from just the outside. A variety of leafy trees, well trimmed bushes, and aromatic flowers decorated it in precise symmetry, each individual blade of grass nipped to preeminence.

There was a garden off to the left, freshly tended to and beautiful with a pond in the center. You couldn’t see what was in it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if koi fish were there as well.

A partially shaded gazebo stood on the other side, right next to a gentle creek that trickled leisurely. A stone table sat in the center, and you could imagine drinking tea in the early morning there, when the sun would hit it at the right angle to warm you up.

The aesthetic was prizewinning; a wonderful, skillful mix between traditional and modern, all incorporated into a house you thought could only exist in one of those style magazines.

How long had it been here? How had it been built so extravagantly? How much did it cost?

All these painfully curious questions, yet, the first thing you thought to say when you opened your mouth…

“You said it was nearby,” you pouted. “This is the other side of town.”

“Eh?” He glanced down at you. “Doesn’t seem that far to me.”

Your index finger flicked the outside of his thigh. “That’s because you’re a walking tree.”

Gojo slapped his thigh in the same spot, beaming at you. “These are good for a lot of things.”

“I’m sure,” the unamused deadpan you gave him had him snickering.

That shit-eating grin was back and he waggled his brows. “I could show you.”

“Pass,” you rolled your eyes, addressing his house instead. “Why is your house so far away from the village? Up the whole ass mountain and everything.”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dunno. It was built here a long time ago. Obviously upgraded over the years, duh, but if I had to guess, it’s because of the hot spring. The rest of the village just built lower down the path for convenience, or they were intimidated by the Gojo name.”

“Hot spring?” You furrowed your brow.

Nonchalant as always, he nodded. “Yeah, there’s a natural hot spring in the backyard.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you have a hot spring in your backyard?”

Being the rich boy that he was, he cocked his head to the side and spared you an inquisitive peek, as if to say ‘you don’t have one?’ “Yeah? You wanna see?”

“Uh, yes?” You gawked shamelessly.

Satoru grinned and beckoned for you to follow, and you skipped right along behind him, barely managing to remind yourself to hurriedly take off your shoes at the door. You had to force yourself to be careful and line them up neatly. You also used this chance to eye the obviously rich-people footwear. You wouldn’t hesitate to bet that one pair alone was worth more than one of your kidneys.

All worries of him being a potential monster dashed out the window as you let him lead you through the winding halls to a shoji door near the back of his house – you had to guess, you were not paying attention at all. You were too focused on the expensive decor and feeling way out of place.

The scenery that greeted you as soon as the door slid open had you stopping dead in your tracks in shere awe.

He hadn’t been lying, there really was a hot spring in his backyard. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about his smug expression, mindlessly allowing him to gently push you forward with a hand to the small of your back.

“Close your mouth, you’ll start drooling,” he teased.

Your jaw clicked shut and you shot him a half-hearted glare before your attention returned to the pool of steaming water ahead of you.

The entire area was gorgeous, honestly. Round stone circles created a path along gravel from the engawa to the basin, which was surrounded mostly by rocks with plants growing between cracks and around the base here and there. Massive pines encompassed the entire area, giving you the sensation of safety and protection.

A trail on the side led somewhere else, winding between mounds of perfectly maintained green terra, though that was of insignificant interest to you at the moment.

An instruction was murmured against the shell of your ear, and you wordlessly and thoughtlessly obeyed. “Look up.”

“...Oh.”

High above, between the gaps in the trees, you had a prime view of the sky, spanning across the ring the forest created, deep and wondrous and so…clear. The brightest blue you had ever seen. If the moon got caught just right, exactly in the middle, you believed magic would happen.

The towering pines kept the area shaded and pleasantly cool, and you were swept away by the urge to sink into the hot spring and let everything else fade away.

When you lowered your chin to look at him, you found he was already gazing at you, his grin softened to a small upturn of his lips at the corners. He was just so…divine. Moonflower hair framed his face, cottony and fluffy, and though you couldn’t see his eyes clearly through the indigo tint of his shades, you could feel them. They were piercing, capable of seeing right through your skin and witnessing your heart beating as it stuttered and struggled to regain its footing.

The way he studied you felt so familiar.

An intense watch, pinned directly on you, making the hairs on your nape stand.

You yearned to see his hues without the barrier his dark, round glasses provided, and you wondered if they could rival those of the sky, or the gods’.

“Whatcha think?” He asked silkenly as he leaned forward and tilted his head to be closer to you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured in response without really thinking, the words flowing out of you without your conscious action. “It’s like a dream.”

You weren’t sure if you meant the eden you were brought to, or the heavenly being beside you. Either way, he smiled radiantly at you and nudged your shoulder lightly with his own.

“Wanna touch it?”

Your lashes fluttered as you tried to come back to yourself and not let your mind wander to places you could not reach. “The hot spring?”

“Mhmm.”

It took a considerable amount of effort to tear your eyes off of him and set them back on the cirque of water hidden beneath mist. Like a siren’s song, you slipped on the outdoor slippers nearby and stepped off the engawa, pacing along the stone path. It was smoother, flush with the terrain, unlike the haphazardous placements of the ones you had at your own home.

The pool was milky, tinted with a rich, capri shade, reminding you instantly of a lagoon, or a salt flat mirroring the zion above that went on as far as the eye could see. A miniscule waterfall trickled placidly from the highest outcropping, following the narrow and shallow path it had carved for itself over countless years.

You resisted the urge to cup it in your hands and drink it like sacred nectar.

At the edge, you knelt down and skimmed the tips of your fingers across the water’s surface. Goosebumps broke out across your arm and you shuddered inadvertently. Heat spread over your palm as steam coiled around you, surrounding you partially in a cocoon of warmth. The temperature bordered on the line between too hot and not enough finely, urging you to crawl beneath the water’s cusp and embrace the cradle of coziness.

“Good, isn’t it?” Gojo startled you as he spoke from where he knelt down next to you. He seemed to be proficient at scaring the shit out of you. This close, you could detect his attar clearly, and the last part of his unique fragrance finally fell into place.

Lemon.

He smelled like sweet lemons and mint.

“Yeah–” you squeaked, and cleared your throat to try again. “Yeah, it’s really nice. Like…perfect, actually.”

He snickered and dipped his hand into the diaphanous liquid, bringing it back up to splash it onto your arm. With a cry of mock offense, you splashed him right back, cracking up as you managed to get a decent scoop into his mouth.

You didn’t know what it was about him. Rightfully, you’d only been aware of each other for less than two hours, but it felt like you’d known him your whole life. The banter flowed easily, the games you hadn’t played since you were so young that you could only vaguely remember, the way he spoke to you, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

No heavy feelings sat on your chest, creaking the brittle bars of your ribcage, filling you with an innate sense of dread and desire to flee and never stop for a second. Nothing of the sort crossed your mind. No rock weighed in the pit of your stomach, no widow’s voice murmured in your ear.

It was just you and him, in a bubble of time where nothing and everything mattered all at once. Every breath you took was meaningless, yet held the weight of the world. Every twitch of his fingers could rest even the weariest souls, or rend the sky apart should he ever care to.

But he didn’t, and neither did you.

This pocket-sized domain of serenity you found yourself in brought forth dormant feelings of ease and comfort.

They didn’t feel like a mask painted on to cover the blooming, spreading bruises under your skin and behind your solar plexus. They didn’t feel like a temporary setup to sate your mind until the panic overwhelmed you all over again.

Rather, they composed a nest of the finest blankets you’d ever touched, let alone slept within. You wanted to crawl in and close your eyes and hibernate, sleep as life passed you by. You wanted to live in this moment forever.

The shoulder of his shirt grew damp where he rubbed his curled lips against it. “Kitty’s got claws, huh?”

“Fangs, too,” your nose scrunched up as you gave him a sly, Cheshire cat smile. “I’ll let you kill me if you let me use your hot spring first.”

“Deal.”

You snorted. “Not even gonna dispute it, huh?”

“I’m assuming the ‘kill’ part is optional here.”

“I won’t push my luck then,” you accepted as you stood up, shaking any excess moisture off your hand. Upon remembering Granny, you pulled out your phone from your purse, tsking at the 47% charge level in the top right corner, then glanced at the time. Midday.

Satoru peeped over your shoulder after he rose up. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Time,” you replied, shooing him away to stop him from being nosy. Not that you really had anything worth hiding.

Most of the pictures on your phone were photos you’d taken of the outside world during your trips, random things that meant something at the time you snapped the pic, but meant absolutely zip now, or blurry images of animals that refused to stay still for you.

“Granny wanted me to explore the town to get more familiar with it, then stop by for lunch,” your phone locked with a click as you stuffed it back in your bag and continued your explanation.

He whistled. “Adopted by Granny, and on your first day, too? That’s impressive, means you’re special.”

“Eh?” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? She seems like she’d be a nice person to everyone.”

He chuckled as you both headed back into his house. “Granny’s a prickly lady. Don’t get me wrong, she cares about everyone in the village,” he reassured you as he let you step in first and slid the door shut behind him, “but mostly in a ‘I-will-throw-my-shoe-at-you’ kind of way.”

“Huh,” that didn’t sound too far off from Granny, given what you knew, but you had also only met her that morning. “She gave me free food and told me she’ll have a list of handymen when I go back today.”

“Wow. She won’t even let me steal a candy bar from her store, and I’ve known her my whole life. Must mean you’re really special.”

“There’s a difference between buying and stealing, Gojo,” pausing in your steps, you frowned as contemplation came over you. “...Do you think she thinks I’m incompetent?”

“Probably.”

“Gojo!” You hissed at his lackadaisical response.

His hands raised in surrender. “Kidding, kidding! I think it just means she likes you. C’mon, I’ll show you around town.”

Following his actions, you tugged your shoes on while you thought aloud. “I didn’t even do anything. Walked around her store like an idiot and nearly ran into her.”

You stepped out of the house behind him, waiting for his response. You had expected him to laugh and indeed confirm that you were an idiot (which would be twice that day, if you were keeping proper track), or come up with another quip to taunt you with, but he was quiet, pondering something.

“You have this…aura about you,” he eventually responded. “You’re different.”

“In what way?” You approached the topic carefully, wondering if that was a good or bad thing.

His shoulders lifted and dropped. “Dunno, I’m not good with words. You’re just different. You’re easy to like.”

The incline down from his house back to the village was easier than going up it, a slow slope that followed a mild curve. The road was smooth, free of cars. Those you had seen were parked along the streets below, and not often used from what you could tell. The walk gave you time to consider his words.

You’d heard them before, but nobody ever clarified how you differed from others. He said you were likable, so you chose to believe he meant it in a good way. You’d try to pry more information out of him at some point to sate your cautious curiosity.

“How long have you been here?” You asked instead to change the topic, then winced, remembering that he mentioned his family had been here for a long time.

“Eh,” he tilted his hand side to side a few times. “Maybe 15 or so years, including my baby years.”

Oh. Turns out you were…wrong?

“You weren’t born here?”

“No, I was,” he corrected. Ah, so you were. “I just spent a few school years in Tokyo before returning not too long ago.” Sort of.

“Oh, I see,” mindlessly, you took his hand when he offered it to help you step over a gap at the bottom of the hill. His palm radiated warmth, one you missed when he pulled away and continued leading you along. “Why’d you come back?”

“Missed home.” Your gaze met his when he shot you a glance from over his shoulder. “What about you, sweets? Where'd ya come from?” Upon your answer, he nodded. “Came a long way to get here, huh?”

It’s probably best if I don’t tell him why I came here. Not yet. Not ever. “You could say that,” you responded, stopping when he did. You were grateful that he didn’t push the topic.

He pointed towards something, and you angled forward to see around his body, listening carefully as he explained what was where as he guided you through the winding streets.

“Doctor lives there,” you raised a brow at the full body shudder he experienced. “She can get scary when she’s mad. Otherwise, chill person.”

“Noted.”

While you were curious about the doctor of this village, you had no intention of meeting her by ending up in her clinic after doing something moronic, like tripping on those stupid stones outside your front door. Or walking in purely to introduce yourself. That’d be weird.

As he pointed out various family homes, stores, and miscellaneous locations, he listed off names you definitely weren't going to remember anytime soon. You found it endearing that he knew everyone and shared some tidbits of gossip with you – “Auntie Furiko lives there and she totally has a grudge against Mirio-san for stealing her man.” – and he even imparted some knowledge about a few historical places and things in the village, such as the bridge over the river having been built some 400-odd years ago.

“It was originally built as a passage that only allowed humans through,” he explained. “Back then, cursed spirits were a common thing, so the founders here created a path that had a sort of invisible wall that cursed spirits and objects couldn't get through. Like a curtain.”

“Huh,” you responded plainly as you examined the bridge. “Couldn't the spirits just go through the river?”

His candytuft hair fluffed as he shook his head. “The veil goes around the entire village, the bridge was just there for convenience's sake,” he cocked his head towards you. “But those are just legends and stories. There's plenty of tales about jujutsu sorcerers that could see the cursed spirits and eradicate them. Some people still believe cursed spirits and sorcerers are a thing, and blame disasters, like earthquakes and tsunamis, on them.”

You raised a curious expression. “Do you believe in that?”

Satoru shrugged. “To me, it’s like believing in ghosts or demons. Even if they are real, there's no way they'd beat me,” of course, he said that last bit with full-bodied, unadulterated confidence. “I'm the best.”

A fond snort escaped you. An egomaniac as a new friend(?), that seemed exactly like the kind of trouble you'd get yourself into.

Your eyes shifted over to peer at the Wayo Kenchiko edifice situated higher up, reminding you of the wonder you felt when you first saw it.

You turned fully towards it and tugged on Gojo’s shirt to draw his attention to it as well, your interest taking precedence as you regarded it. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Hm?” He followed your line of sight. “The temple?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s technically a shrine,” he clarified. “It was built when the settlers first got here, dedicated to the wolves of the mountains.”

You squinted at him. “Wolves?”

He nodded eagerly. You never would have guessed him to be somewhat of a history buff. “Yep. Wolves are like…guardian dogs. They’re long gone now, but way back then, it's said they hunted alongside the settlers. Wolves are seen as messengers for mountain gods, so people would pray to them for safety, good hunts, and good harvests.”

You nodded as you followed along. “So you guys primarily farm here, then?”

“More or less. Though we do get a lot of imported stuff from the neighboring city, like the things in Granny’s store. We do mostly exports there. It’s where a lot of the people in this village work.”

“Really?” You frowned slightly. “Isn’t that city, like…an hour or so from here?”

He acceded and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, why?”

“Just seems like a far way to go for work.”

Gojo shrugged as he started walking again, leading you further into town. “Keeps our village alive and well. We gotta keep up with the times, ya know?”

“Suppose so,” you acquiesced. “What do you guys farm here?”

“Ehh, rice and soya, I think,” the teasing twist of his lips had you preemptively rolling your eyes. “Surprised you didn’t know that, girlie; moving to a new place you know nothing about seems risky.”

“I didn’t exactly spend my time digging into the dirt of every single person here, y’know.”

He snickered. “I have dirt on everyone. You want some gossip?”

You huffed. “I’d rather meet someone first before you air their dirty laundry to me. I wanna have an unbiased palate.”

“Oh, so you want to meet the people in this lil’ valley of ours?”

“No,” you replied automatically, then pressed your lips tightly together at your minor flub. “I meant– it’s not– I’m just not–”

His boisterous laughter cut you off, simultaneously making your eye twitch and relief flood you.

“Relax, pretty girl,” he patted your head and you scowled. “I’m just teasin’ ya.”

“I’m seriously going to kill you.”

“Cute,” he crooned, and you groaned.

By the time you two walked up to your kind-of-not-really-grandmother’s shop, you were starting to become familiar with this particular section of road. From here, you knew how to get ‘home’, something you were dreading a touch. You weren’t looking forward to seeing the catastrophe that awaited you.

“And this is where I leave you for now,” he stopped with you in front of the store.

You frowned minutely, an uncomfortable pang of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’re not coming in?”

“Nah,” Gojo shook his head. “Got stuff I need to do. I’ll have someone pick you up from your house later, once you get your stuff. Gimme your phone for a sec.”

Your brows knitted together as you pulled out your phone and unlocked it for him. His fingers grazed yours as you passed the device, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference. They were so warm – or maybe your hands were cold. The touch lingered on your skin, your mind clinging to the tiny wisp of sensation.

The screen of your phone coming back into your line of sight brought you back from mildly zoning out. Almost uncertain, you took it back from him and peered at the screen to see what he did.

You snorted.

He set up his own contact in your address book, making it extra flashy and everything, too. ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨ graced your sight, and you couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t the first time he had done this, the flamboyant clown.

“There,” he grinned. “Text me when you’ve got your stuff from your place.”

Stuffing the device back into your purse, your moue returned. “You want me to bring my shit to your house?”

His brow raised in response. “Uh, yeah? Were you just gonna leave it in that drab hut?”

“Well, I just thought I’d get a room at an inn or something tomorrow, so I don’t have to bother you.”

The usually bright expression on Satoru’s face fell somewhat, his voice taking a earnest tone when he said your name. The back of your neck tingled at the chime of your name passing through his lips. “You’re not a bother. Seriously, I have more space than I know what to do with. You can stay at my place as long as you need, I insist.”

His change in demeanor threw you for a loop. There was something lying under the surface of his countenance, hidden under layers of a façade wrapped too tightly around his inner being for you to ever hope to see what was beneath. The switch from goofy to sincere struck you as odd, and while you could have jumped back on the ‘he’s a psycho’ train of thought, his insistence didn’t resemble that of a hunter panicking about losing his prey.

Rather, it stemmed from a genuine offer made out of concern for your wellbeing. Sure, he could have been hiding some intentions (he definitely was), but he did show you the path to his house, convoluted as it was, at least some of its interior, and even the hot spring carved behind it. When you mentioned Granny, he seemed amused, rather than worried, and showed you around these confusing and interesting backwoods.

Thinking about the whole mess you had gotten yourself into, what with buying a house in a province you knew nothing about, and your limited funds, an uneasy heaviness sat in your gut. If he was suggesting an option of solace and shelter while you figured your shit out, you had very few reasons to decline.

A bit too readily, perhaps, you set aside any preconceived notions you had about him being suspicious and nodded. “Alright. Thank you, Gojo.”

“Just Satoru is fine,” that smug visage returned, all earlier signs of sobriety fading as quickly as they came. He turned back towards the way you came from, waving over his shoulder lazily. “See ya later, sweets.”

You spied on him for a while, until he disappeared around a bend, and sighed. Considering everything that happened so far, you surmised you were in way over your head.

The doorbell to Granny’s store pinged a sweet tune as you stepped in, finding the familiar scene nearly untouched from before. The air inside was pleasantly cool compared to outside, encouraging you to relax.

“Granny?” You called out as you stepped further in, glancing down the first aisle. “Are you here?”

“Ah!” The woman you were searching for called out from a separate room, appearing through a door you hadn’t noticed at the back of the store before, carrying a bento box. “Perfect timing, I finished that list for you.”

She beckoned you towards her as she rounded the counter, setting the bento box down on top of it and digging around for something under the tabletop before straightening and holding out a sheet of paper for you to take. Your fingers closed around the yellow notebook sheet and you peered down at the writing.

You silently thanked her for having a neat hand, as you were a tad rusty on your hiragana.

A row of names spanned down the paper, along with numbers next to each one. She had also included their specific occupations, making your life that much easier.

“Those are some folks in this village that can help you out. Unfortunately, most of them work in the city, so I fear you might not be able to fix up your house so soon,” Granny noted solemnly as began untying the beautifully designed furoshiki wrapped around, presumably, your food. “Let me call up a friend to find you a place to stay for the time being.”

“Oh, n-no, it’s fine, Granny!” You raised your hands in front of you. “I actually found somewhere to stay.”

She raised a brow at you. “With whom?”

The nervous laugh you let out was meek and not very reassuring. “I, uh…ran into Gojo Satoru, and he offered to house me. I was gonna find an inn, but…’

A perturbed expression morphed her stern features. “Really? Little Satoru offered to house you?”

Little was a gnarly stretch on her part, considering Satoru easily dwarfed both of you. “Is that bad?”

Granny sighed and shook her head as she finished undoing the cloth. “Not necessarily. He’s a troublemaker, that one, but…well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him invite someone who isn’t one of his close friends to stay with him before.”

“Huh,” Your lips curled downwards. Were you actually so unique that he treated you differently than others? “He’s a bit…” You fumbled with your words, trying to find the right description. “Dramatic, for lack of a better word, but he showed me around and said he’ll have someone pick me up later.”

Her movements had slowed as she kept her eyes on you while popping open the box, studying you. She grabbed the pair of chopsticks in the lid and held the food towards you, which you took without fuss and with a quick ‘thank you’. The length of silence was beginning to unsettle you, so you tried to cover it by taking a bite of the katsu she prepared for you.

And maybe groaning tacitly because, fuck, was it good. Astounding, otherworldly, you would bet easy money that no 5-star restaurant could compare to Granny’s cooking.

Eventually, she spoke again, albeit puzzling you. “It’s no wonder you caught their attention. You are a beautiful, bright young woman.”

Your chopsticks hovered mid-bite. “‘Their’?”

“Mhmm,” the older lady nodded and tsked fondly as she grabbed a hand towel and wiped down a portion of the already spotless surface under her hands. “There’s two of them.”

A pin could drop in the room and it’d be deafening with the silence created by your shock. “There’s two Gojo’s?”

Her amusement turned into full blown laughter. “No, but there might as well be.” she corrected herself. “Those two are stick at the hip–”

The jingle of the bell over the door and the call of someone cut her off. You turned to watch as an attractive woman with mid-length brunette hair stepped into the room, carrying a box in her arms. Were all the people in this town contemptuously stunning? “Granny, I got the–” she stopped promptly upon seeing you. “You’re new.”

You nodded and your pseudo-grandmother introduced you.

“I see,” the brown-haired girl said with a nod. “Well, nice to meet you. I’m Ieiri Shoko, your local doctor and mortician. Just call me Shoko.”

So, this was the doc– wait, what?

Your eyes widened. “...Mortician?”

“Correct,” Shoko grunted as she dropped the hefty box on the floor with a grunt. “Which means you shouldn’t do something stupid or piss me off unless you want to end up in my morgue.”

Now you had two reasons to fear her, counting Satoru’s warning. “Duly noted.”

Your gaze followed her as she reposed against the nearby wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “When’d you get in?”

“Last night.”

“Helluva place to settle,” she commented. “What brought you here of all options?”

Settle.

I’m not so sure about that.

You chewed another piece of katsu and swallowed before answering. “Population. I’m not a very big people-person.”

A smile lifted her lips and she exhaled through her nose. “You and me both, girl. If you wanna be as far away from mass civilization as possible, this is the best place to be. Second only to going nomad and living in a forest alone like a witch.”

She sighed wistfully, and you had the sneaking suspicion that part of her yearned for that kind of lifestyle. “Looks like you’ve thought about it before.”

“I have, but this town is full of idiots that need me, or they would have died a long time ago.”

“Shoko, be nice,” Granny scolded half-heartedly, though you could spot the amusement in her eyes.

“What? I’m not wrong,” Shoko averred as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Just as she went to open it, Granny swatted her hands and gave her a scathing glare. “Not inside, Shoko. Really, go outside, at least.”

The doctor/mortician grumbled as she stuffed the box back where it came from, giving Granny a weak stink eye. “Anyways, welcome to this miniature province of ours, girl.”

“Thanks.”

“Mm,” she acknowledged, then began a lecture. “Avoid the west trail that goes past the village boundary and up the mountain. Nothing bad there, just has this weird smell to it. Probably haunted by some shit,” Shoko informed you. “Also muddy half the year. Grandma Ai can and will talk your ear off if you stop for more than a second. Good luck getting away from her if she ever catches you.”

You munched slowly as you listened to her advice intently. In any of the cities you stopped by, there weren’t really any communities – not like this, anyway – so you were fascinated by the dynamics these people displayed.

Yes, you were wary, sure, but learning about the town’s intricately interwoven families and neighbors didn’t mean you were getting close to anyone. If anything, it meant you could avoid attachments.

…Right?

Yes. Right.

“–Wednesday is trash collection day, but you might have to bring your trash closer into town if you’re too far out. Oh, and don’t go to the park on Thursday nights–”

You blinked yourself back into full awareness. Your safe haven the park was off limits now? “Wait, why?”

She humbled you with a deadpan that had you straightening your back, imploring you to obey. “Aoi and her boyfriend like to fuck there on Thursday nights.”

“Tch,” Granny clicked her tongue, glaring at Shoko. “Don’t be so crass. We have a guest.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” you waved off her concern. “I don’t mind. I appreciate the forewarning. Besides,” your lips curled into a playful smirk aimed towards Shoko, “I like when people are straightforward.”

She returned the grin with a sly one of her own. “You and I are gonna get along well.”

Similarly to Satoru, speaking to Shoko was easy. It felt like you were reconnecting with old friends – friends you knew when you were unfledged and barely remember anything about, but the link was there.

She nodded as your conversation concluded and pushed herself off the wall, evidently needing to return to where she came from. “Well, if you need me, you know where to– ah, wait, you don’t.”

Shoko patted down her body, presumably in search of her phone or a notepad, but you reassured her hastily. “No, it’s fine! I do, Gojo showed me around earlier.”

Her head whipped up so quickly, you worried she might have snapped it when you heard it crack. “Oh, god, you already met that idiot?”

The short laugh you let out was undignified. “Yep. He’s very noticeable.”

“You can say that again,” she grumbled. “Please don’t tell me he did something dumb and embarrassed himself, or weirded you out. Don’t pay attention to him, he’s just like that.”

“Well, he said I could stay at his place since the house I got is in…less than favorable condition.”

She stilled on the spot, her brows slowly coming together in a visage of utter confusion. “...What? He said you could stay with him?”

“Is he a murderer?” You questioned, only half joking. “I knew it.”

“No, no, he’s not, he’s just…” She turned her gaze to Granny. “Did you know about this?”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Granny responded.

Your tummy shifted uneasily. “Is…that a bad thing?” You knew Granny said it wasn’t earlier, but you had to ask again.

“No, not really…” Shoko was not easing your nerves whatsoever. “Just unusual.”

“How come?”

She pulled her lips to the side in consideration. “Gojo Satoru is someone who…likes to hide things.”

“Oh, so he is a murderer.”

She demurred at your conclusion. “Last I checked, no. Regardless, he can be kind of a dick sometimes, so don’t take any of his more outlandish shit to heart, yeah?”

You bobbed your head loosely, your mind already off creating heinous conspiracy theories about your benefactor. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Mm, it’s no problem,” she approached you and held out her hand. “Gimme your phone, I’ll give you my number. You can text me if he tries to pull some shit with you.”

Getting a strong sense of déjà vu, you handed her your phone and watched as she punched in her number, then called her phone to get your number as well. Yours was back in your hands in record time, contact set to just her name.

“There. I gotta head off for now, it was nice to meet you, girl,” Shoko waved to you and Granny as she disappeared through the door.

Soft huffing from behind you had you peek at the woman. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Granny appeased. “Just seems you’ve had an eventful first day here, no?”

“No kidding,” you mumbled, pouting when you saw that you had finished your food. She took the empty box from you, pleased by it being practically licked spotless. “Thank you, it was really delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed your meal,” she nodded. She must have put a lot of effort into it.

A thought occurred to you then. “Granny, do you know where I could possibly get a job?”

She raised a brow at you. “You want to work?”

“Well, yeah,” you scratched your cheek. “I’d try to find a job online, or the city, but I don’t really know what kind of work I can get with the first option, and I don’t have a car or anything for the second one.”

Her fingers cupped her chin in consideration. “How about you work here?”

“In your store?”

“Yes,” Wait, that easily? “I could always use more hands here. I’m getting up there in age, and my hands ache often. You’d be helping me a lot.”

“Are you sure…?” You gave her a concerned mien, subconsciously flicking your eyes down to her hands. “I don’t wanna take from you more than I already have.”

Granny merely brushed away your worries. “Nonsense. I could use the company, too.”

Okay, now you were starting to get suspicious. Things were lining up too well.

Well, you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but considered keeping your guard up.

“Alright,” you agreed, if somewhat hesitant. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Granny’s expression was heartwarming. “Wonderful! How about you take a week or so to settle in, then you can come start when you’re ready?”

“Well, I can start sooner. If you need the help anyway.”

“How about a few days?”

Stubborn old lady, you loved her already. “Fine, a few days,” you conceded, soughing. “Thanks again for the food, Granny. And for the job. I should probably get my stuff from my place and bring it to Gojo’s. You’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, dear,” she shooed you away with her fingers. “Go on, now. I’ll see you soon.”

The warm air raised goosebumps up your arms as it swept over you upon leaving. It smelled distinctly sweet, a natural fragrance you quickly became fond of, enjoying it wholly during your walk back home. It had been shorter this time, the transition from defined road to coarse, packed dirt closer to town than you remembered it being.

What you were not fond of was your house, however. Your spite towards those stepping stones leading to the door growing worse as you avoided tripping over them again. The stench upon opening the front door also blew you back, making your entire face scrunch up.

“Why did I do this to myself,” you grumbled as you cynically walked in. Daylight made your perception so much worse. Every flaw was practically highlighted in bright, blaring white.

You mulled over convincing Satoru to just let you live with him and forget this damn thing ever existed to begin with.

Discovering your luggage where you left it, you cringed. It just kept getting worse. The floor was sticky everywhere. With what? Who knows. Did you want to know? Abso-fucking-lutely not. It took you less than a fraction of a second to decide to abandon your sleeping bag where it was.

Like hell were you going to peel it off the tacky wood, let alone use it again. Not like you needed to if you had somewhere to stay anyway, right?

Since when did you become such a wastrel?

Ugh.

With a shake of your head, you rescued your suitcase and luggage bag, letting them feel the same fresh air you could. It was the little things in life that made you so grateful for this pristine oxygen. And the bigger things in life that made you extra grateful, like Gojo Satoru and his stupidly large house.

Bless him for giving you the opportunity to sleep in an actual bed, rather than suffering in the outdoors. Him being a sneaky skunk notwithstanding.

Welp, here goes nothing. You tapped his contact, then the bubble under it. You were just going to assume he knew who was texting him.

This is the start of your conversation with ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨.

You, 16:24

Got my stuff

Alright, now you just wai–

✨❤️Satoru❤️✨, 16:24

(＾▽＾)

give it 10

The fuck.

Emoticon aside, the instant reply caught you off guard. Didn’t he say he had things to do? The day was just full of wonders, huh?

Ten minutes went by fast when you pulled up some random bad fanfiction to scroll through mindlessly. Your attention was drawn away from the half-written mess when a black sedan rolled up in front of your property, and you whistled low.

Why the hell was a rich boy like Satoru living in the sticks and not in some penthouse in the middle of Tokyo?

A spindly figure climbed out and bowed at you politely, hands clasped together in front of him. His voice was wispy, light and reserved. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. My name is Ijichi Kiyotaka, Gojo-san requested I bring you to his residence.”

Ah, he seemed so nervous. Poor guy.

You nodded, choosing not to comment on it. You were intimate with the feeling and didn’t like others pointing it out, you figured he wouldn’t, either. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

He shook his head as he popped the trunk and helped you tuck away your luggage. “It’s no trouble at all. Though, admittedly, it is nice to not have to drive far out this time.”

“Oh?” You questioned as he opened the back door for you and oh, my, were those leather seats? The car was lavish both inside and out, and probably cost more than you and your shoddy lil’ shack combined. You waited until he got into the driver’s seat, taking the extra few seconds to admire the car that you definitely should not have been in as it was clearly too high class for you, before continuing. “Do you usually have to drive to the city?”

“Yes,” Ijichi confirmed, starting up the car with a smooth purr that you barely heard. Leave it to the wealthy to find the best of the best in any category, uncaring of prices. “I’m normally just a chauffeur for the Gojo household.”

You bobbed your head in understanding, peering out of the tinted window to watch everything move by. The traditional architecture was beautiful, something you admired. It made your house stick out a bit like a sore thumb, considering the more western design; you pondered why it was built like that.

The twisting road leading up the mountainside began and ended all too soon, the whole trip lasting less than 5 minutes total, your destination completed with Ijichi parking outside of the mansion.

Ever the gentleman (though, he might have been resolute in helping you with your belongings directly due to fear of some kind of punishment looming over his head), he took your things and led you into the house. “This way, please. I’ve already set up your room for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you murmured, taking this chance to gawk at everything more properly. Frankly, it smelled rich inside, you didn’t want to think about how expensive even just the vase on the coffee table was.

The sliding of a door signaled your journey’s end. Ijichi bowed and ushered you inside first, though you kind of wished he went in before you, because you were positively floored and most definitely seemed like an idiot with your jaw hanging open. What the fuck? Satoru said this was a spare room? You were expecting maybe, oh, I don’t know, normal guest room things?

Not the epitome of a deluxe hotel for fuck’s sake. The room was at least twice the size of the one you slept in yesterday, the bed was glamorous (queen size, too, Christ), the bedding laid so nicely that you debated sleeping on the ground a second time, just to avoid messing it up. Especially because the fluffy rug at the foot of the frame was so downy, you wanted to drown in it.

There’s no way this was real. Someone had to have been playing a joke on you. You spun to watch Ijichi as he carefully set your suitcase and bag against the wall by the door, waiting for him to rip the proverbial, and likely not fluffy, rug from under your feet.

Instead, he bowed once more, eyes closed. “Should you need anything, you may call for me. The restroom and bathroom are on the right when you exit. Please, feel free to bathe, if you wish. Make yourself at home. Gojo-san is out right now, but will be back by evening.”

You barely stuttered out a semi-coherent thank-you as he left, sliding the door shut behind him and leaving you in this splendor.

Surely this was a joke. You dreaded the inevitable turn, expected the door to open to a cackling Gojo Satoru as he wheezed his lungs out and pulled some ‘I can’t believe you fell for it!’ bullshit.

But it didn’t happen.

For however long you stood there, staring holes through the closed entrance, nobody came to reveal this was all an elaborate joke, with you playing the unsuspecting and dumb victim. You laggardly let out the breath you had been holding and poked around the room with cautious hope. It really was spectacular, but you truly wondered how long Gojo would let you stay here.

By the gods, you were tired of thinking, though, and a shower would be heavenly. You could worry about everything after you were scrubbed dirt-free.

…Assuming you wouldn’t get jumped in the shower instead of the bedroom.

“You’re being paranoid,” you scolded yourself under your breath as you opened your suitcase to grab a change of clothes. But, really, could anyone blame you? You were sure someone else would have felt the exact same way you did.

Unless they were a professional freeloader or something.

Your soap and tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner were so sad compared to everything else around you. You should have checked if Granny’s store had any bath products.

The bathroom was just as luxurious and fully stocked as everything else in this damn estate. Dark, rich wood encompassed the room; a sink was to your left with a sparkling mirror above it, an open shower to your right towards the back, and the chef-d’œuvre of it all: the sunken bathtub at the end. A frosted glass window was situated behind it, shades partially lowered to allow natural light in through the bottom.

Fuck, you were so out of your depth.

But were you going to deny enjoying such riches at least once in your life? Hell no.

You turned to set your stuff down on the counter space by the sink, glancing towards the row of very expensive bottles of different types of cleansers lined up against the wall, and the note in front of them.

Grasping it, you saw it had your name on it, written by hand. You flipped it over to see the short message left behind.

These are yours, use them as you please

~Satoru ♥

Ohoho, fancy products you could only ever scowl at forlornly at the store whenever you saw them, fantasizing about using them, though ultimately being shunned by the price tag? Fuck feeling apprehensive, you were damn well going to use those and indulge in feeling and smelling like a queen.

You’d never stripped faster in your life. You barely had half a mind to fold your clothes somewhat neatly and set them on the counter, rather than scattering them all across the floor as you stumbled out of your socks and hopped to the shower on one foot.

Even the millions of knobs and stall-less design couldn’t deter your avidity, each one subjected to random twisting until you figured it out.

As soon as the bottles were on the recessed shelf under the showerhead, you loped under the hot water and groaned, planting your forehead against the cool wall whilst it poured down your back. You practically turned into putty, all your sore and tense muscles unwinding noticeably. The shower pointed out exactly how sleeping on the floor in your own house jacked up every part of your body, because ow.

You honestly believed you could stand there forever, reluctant to leave, but that bathtub was calling to you.

So you grabbed the body wash first and flipped it over to read the label.

Oatmeal and almonds. Mmmh sweet fuck, you could dissolve into a puddle. It smelled heavenly, and you were giddy out of your skin knowing you were about to smell like that, too. It felt so silky-smooth on your palm, the perfume automatically coating you as you rubbed it in and savored the sensation. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go back to normal, poor-person soap without lamenting the loss of this.

You can’t miss what you don’t know, and boy were you going to miss this if you had to leave it behind. Satoru did say it was yours to use and keep, though, didn’t he? Maybe you could yoink them when your place was all fixed up and you had to leave.

Suds coated your body in a thick layer of iridescent, white bubbles, flowing down the planes and curves of your figure with the water, rinsing every bit of your body to superb asepsis. Your hair had never known such extravagance when your fingers glided right through your locks, leaving them soft and addicting to touch. You understood now how Satoru’s was that fluffy.

You wanted to touch his hair, too.

Shaking your head to shoo away any very wholesome thoughts, you squeezed the excess water from your hair and turned off the shower, shivering at the sudden chill now that the perpetually toasty mist wasn’t surrounding you anymore.

Careful to avoid slipping, you tip-toed over to the tub and knelt down beside it, reaching for the handles. Hot water burst forth from the tap, rushing to fill the basin, and you noted how deep it was, contemplating if your knees would peek out from the surface if you sat with them bent. You had to be extra vigilant to prevent falling asleep in it and drowning.

You could drown after you got to take a dip in the hot spring in the backyard. Of course, you’d prefer not having to drown at all, but if you had to choose, you’d opt for the hot spring.

Daydreams of swimming in it played behind your eyes as you sank into the tub with a delighted sigh. What tranquility, lucking out like this. You didn’t know what god to thank, if any, but you’d happily grovel on your hands and knees to show your immense gratitude. Just getting a chance to live (well, bathe) in splendor for a single day was enough to fulfill some innate, deep desire you had inside.

Now that you had a moment away from the hectic day, you let yourself recount everything that happened, and question how the hell you got here.

Not 24 hours ago, you had arrived, a poor fool that nearly kicked the bucket on your own front porch, and since then, you were sort of adopted by a grandmother that fed you instead of throwing her shoe at you, met an eccentric, wealthy man who took after a deity ripped straight from mythos, and landed yourself not only a place to stay, but a place with said deity.

“What the hell…” You mumbled to yourself as you lowered yourself until only your eyes remained above the water, blowing bubbles.

How did you get here?

Was this some sort of punishment? Give you a taste of the blest, then wrench it away from you? Karmic cruel and unusual castigation?

You grumbled underwater and lifted your head back up to breathe. Of course, you couldn’t help being paranoid, all of this was way too good to be true. Like some sort of game show–

Oh, god–

You sat up pin-straight and covered your chest, scanning the bathroom ceiling and walls for any hidden cameras. You scoured every surface, squinting extra hard to spot potential blinking lights or unusually-reflective circles.

Nada.

You went boneless, lounging against the back of the tub as you exhaled heavily.

You had probably been in the bath too long. Your fingers were starting to get pruny, and your brain all jumbled up with anxiety and skepticism.

Sluggishly, you pulled yourself out and dried off while the tub drained, pulling on your clean clothes with a relieved hum. You couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself like this, if ever.

You heard someone speaking from beyond the hallway, so after dropping off your old clothes in your room, you ventured out through the living room, where you found none other than your savior, chatting away with someone on the phone. He turned to you and instantly lit up.

“Ha-hey!” Satoru grinned and waved you over after quickly ending his call, laughing through his greeting. “You got here safe?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving to sit beside him at the kitchen island. “Ijichi-san is good at his job.”

The towheaded boy snickered. “Good, or else I would have flicked his forehead.”

“So, you’re the reason he looks so anxious all the time,” you scolded him, then apologized. “Sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to drag you out of your conversation.”

“Bah,” he brushed it off. “No big deal, wasn’t anything important. So, settling in okay? Seems you already got familiar with the soaps ‘n’ stuff I got you, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, lifting your arm to sniff at your wrist. “They smell so good, where did you get them?”

He planted his chin on his palm. “Nowhere you can afford.”

Your eyes narrowed into a sharp, unamused glare. “Wow, thanks.”

His cheeks crinkled his hues, and you realized he was still wearing his shades indoors. The glare of the sun no longer turned them into mirrors, allowing you to partially see through them, but the deep ocean hue of the lenses prevented you from deciphering the exact color of his irises.

What an abnormal choice of glasses. You knew people wore circular shades – they made them for a reason – but all the people you’d seen wearing them could never pull off the style.

Satoru was different, though. They suited him flawlessly; refined and dignified, yet boyish at the same time, just like the bearer.

“Let me know when you run out,” he said. “I’ll get you more.”

You jolted in surprise. “Oh! No, no, it’s fine! I’d feel bad using them all up, I don’t want to imagine the price tag…”

He pouted at you. “Why? You saw the note I left you, didn’t you? They’re yours, I got them specifically so you could use them.”

You worried your bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t do anything I’m not sure of.”

Well, that’s all you needed to concede. “Alright. Thank you, I like them a lot.”

His moue instantly turned into a brilliant, cheek-aching smile. “I’m glad! Had me worried I picked the wrong stuff.”

His giddiness was contagious, making you giggle. “No! Not at all, I’m just– I’ve never seen the brand before.” It being a Japanese brand notwithstanding.

“Well, duh,” he rolled his eyes as he hopped off his stool and sauntered over to the fridge. “They don’t sell this kind of stuff in normal stores.”

“Where’d you get them from, then?”

“Made Ijichi fetch ‘em.”

You sighed heavily. “Poor guy. You work him to the bone, don’t you?”

He humphed as he withdrew something from the fridge – bento boxes, you recognized. He placed one down in front of you, and took his spot at the island back. “He’s fine. Gets paid well. It’s not like I make him go to the city for every little whim I have.”

You huffed as you pulled off the lid to your box, your mouth instantly salivating at the food within. You barely had the conscious thought left to clap your hands and murmur ‘itadakimasu’, as well as mentally slap yourself when you recalled that you had forgotten to do the same with Granny.

You were able to restrain the moan of delight this time, unlike in front of the old lady, but damn was it hard to.

“Fuck…”

Gojo cackled beside you. “It’s good, I know.”

“Who made this?” You questioned, hand covering your mouth as you chewed. Ijichi must have been a good chef, too.

The man gave you a cocky smirk. “I did.”

…Hah?

You regarded him flatly, disbelieving. “Funny.”

“I’m serious!” He glowered. “Is it so hard to believe I can cook?”

“A little,” you confessed around a bite of sausage. “Rich boys don’t usually know how to cook.”

His gaze pierced directly through you, brooding as he stuffed his mouth. “I’m never gonna cook for you again, just for that.”

Oh, so he was gonna do that?

Hm, might as well play along.

You set down your chopsticks and turned to face him, slapping your hands together as you lowered your head to beseech his mercy. “Please, O’ Honored One, Gojo Satoru-sama! Forgive this witch her foolish words!”

He lifted his chin, judging you through his round shades with the pretense of a king adjudicating his subject’s worth. A few seconds passed before he nodded in approval. “Better. You’re forgiven.”

“Yay,” you laughed, immediately going back to eating. “It is really good though, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he responded, virtually inhaling his serving – not that you were any better.

“Where’d you learn how to cook?”

He swallowed and paused, speaking a fraction softer. “My mom taught me.”

Maybe a touchy subject. You noted it as something to not approach, instead choosing to compliment them both. “She taught you well.”

The boxes were empty in the blink of an eye, and you were both saying ‘gochisousama’ with a satisfying puff.

He grabbed the chopsticks and both boxes, placing them in the sink and filling them with water. “So you did research Japan a bit, eh? Knowing our customs.”

“I believe it comes with the territory of learning the language, yes,” you hopped off the stool, reclining against the counter. You winced minutely when your spine popped.

“How long have you been speaking Japanese?”

“Ehh,” you tilted your hand diagonally a few times. “I learned it a while back. I was studying abroad at the time. Didn’t really know it’d come in handy now, though.”

He dried off his hands with the hand towel nearby and cocked his head to the side. “Oh? You weren’t planning to move here?”

“Not…really,” you shrugged and rubbed the back of your neck. You had to tip-toe this line of conversation carefully.

He grinned, leaning forward to meet your gaze head-on as if he had just hit some sort of jackpot. “So you are running from something after all.” Fuck. “Well? What is it? Mafia?” No. “Loan sharks?” No. “Robbed somethin’ big?” No. “Exes?”

…Sort of.

“Let’s go with exes.”

“You’re quite the mysterious woman,” he chuckled low, voice taking on an evil little rasp. “Makes me wanna open you up.”

You batted your eyes, your brain lagging as your cheeks heated up because what the fuck, real men weren’t supposed to be this hot, and you were not supposed to be this asthenic in the knees just because he had a handsome face and an absurdly attractive voice that decided to say the most deviant shit.

“And you’re a terrible, terrible man, Gojo Satoru,” you admonished to cover your nonplussed emotions.

“Mhm, mhm,” he nodded in complete agreement. “I’m a terrible, terrible man that decided to take you in out of the goodness of my heart.”

You sighed. “You’re going to use that against me, aren’t you.”

“Absolutely, I’m never letting you live this down.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, earning yourself a smirk hidden poorly behind an offended scoff. An oddly domestic sentiment perched in your center, just beneath your breastbone. A decent meal and the slow end to an intense day had you yawning behind the back of your hand.

He yawned after you, the action infectious, and moped like a kid that wasn’t ready to go to bed.

The emotional weight of everything was coming down on you, and you craved for nothing more than to pass the fuck out under those incredibly plush and cozy looking blankets.

“Think that’s our cue,” you grumbled and rubbed the corner of your eye with your knuckle. “Or mine, anyway. I’m ready to conk out and sleep for, like, a century.”

He chuckled lazily, the noise husky and low. It wasn’t particularly late, no, but you felt like you’d been struck with a bus filled with mental and physical tax collected over a great deal of time. He waved you off, turning to strut down the hall opposite of the one you came through, and left you with a still cheery farewell.

Finally.

You well-nigh sprinted back to your room to nab your toiletries and sped through your simple nightly routine, impatient and antsy to dive into that queen-sized mattress. It’s not that you disliked Gojo’s company, quite the opposite, actually, but you were tired.

Usually, you tried to put off sleep until your body gave out in the early hours before morning, uncaring for the dreams that inevitably spawned, no matter how little or how much sleep you got.

But now?

Those sheets were hailing you.

You couldn’t brush your teeth quick enough. Your face was practically still damp with your moisturizer as you dived under the duvet and keened. You’d never known such opulence in your life.

Your legs kicked with glee as you snuggled in, squeaking and curling on your side and clutching the fabric of the blanket tightly in your hands to ensure it went nowhere while you pranced around in dreamland. Heaven. Pure and simple. Heaven with the fragrance of new pin laundry and your body wash, that held your head on the coziest lap, that hugged your form and incontinently coaxed you under the waves of hypnotic slumbering.

Comfort surrounded you. The mattress underneath you was the ideal level of firmness, the blankets were warm without being overbearingly hot, and being in such a neat environment swiftly lulled you into a far easier and more satisfying sleep than you’ve had in a long time.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

#Tether Me #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #chimera writes

194 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

The Professor

Better Off

Pregnancy Series

Champagne Problems

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

Unkown Number

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Bonus!

Latina!reader x Harry

Makeup artist!reader x Harry

Vogue Beauty Secrets

Painting H's nails

Girl Gone Live

How they spend their time before H goes onstage

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!reader

70s Harry and Y/n

Florist!reader x Harry

Harry is oblivious

Chef!reader x Harry

Would That I

Picnic

Younger!reader x Harry

Part 2: Harry gets insecure about the relationship

Brazilian!reader x Harry

Stripper!reader x Harry

Part 2: Harry defends reader

Asexual!reader x Harry

Guitarist!reader x Harry

Part 2

Single dad!Harry x reader

Harry x swiftie!reader

Night one of Eras Tour

London Boy

Falling

Part 2

Grapejuice Blues

Hookup Scene

Hunger

The Only Exception

Happy New Year

Happy Birthday

Just the Two of Us

Harrychella

Traitor

Part 2

Knock Three Times

Harry is Sick

The one where Harry gets amnesia

An update

The one where the relationship gets exposed

College au

Postpartum depression

Reader has a miscarriage

The one where best friend!reader gets over Harry

Getting together behind o's back

Wildest Dreams

Reader opens for Live on Tour

Reader listens to Fine Line for the first time

She

Catching up as friends

Reader cheats on Harry

Bodyguard!harry

Maybe Next Time He'll Think

Going to the Met Gala

Reader gets a Grammy

Harry and reader can't get pregnant

Speak Now

Reader has a chronic illness

Where Harry promises he didn't cheat

Harry comforts reader on a bad day

Where H's family comes to see reader perform

Best friendrry at the Grammys

Sweet (Valentine's Day blurb)

Good in Bed

Sick reader blurb

Better Man

Cheeseball (Harry x plus size reader)

Baby Said (rockstar! reader x Harry)

Just Called to Say I Love You

Childhood Best Friends

Reader helps Harry with his grief, Part Two

Cute little blurb about wine and sitting in front of ac units

Harry and Y/n cuddling on the floor

Heat Wave

Reader has an eating disorder

bad idea, right?

Rumors (Instagram Fic)

Harry gets called a slag

New Boot Scootin'

Reader asks Harry to slow down

Harry's friends give reader a hard time

#harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

2K notes · View notes

brucewaynehater101 · 11 days

Note

Running over here to give an idea spawned from binging Pretty Cure transformations

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

The Drakes uncover artifacts on land once owned by their very own ancestors, to which they are the closest related descendents of

This gives them the absolute rights to distribution, and considering they spend less time with Tim than desirable, it's gifted to their boy in hopes of bonding with him through their ancestry

The last thing Tim expected upon opening the vintage birdcage was for the perch to swing and the sudden appearance of an bearded vulture flying out and soaring all over the room

Even stranger? The bird looked like it came out of a painting, from the brushstrokes to the exaggerated colors, like, its feathers were a wine red instead of red-orange one would expect

Oh, and the cheering—"Free! I'm free! Child, did you free me from my prison? Splendid! Spendid! I can cast revenge on those dastard Drakes at long last! Long last!"

Unfortunately for birdie here, they've been imprisoned for so long that any Drakes who imprisoned them are long dead

Remaining descendents are all innocent in this conflict

"A shame, a shame indeed, but now that I no longer fear them, and you too are ignorant of why they did not pass down their evil, I should give thanks to you."

"Tell me your Deepest Dream, and I'll isee if we can fulfill it."

Introducing Mes'Dremere, a painting granted life by magics long ago

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

I haven't developed quite a backstory, I'll leave it to you guys to brainstorm, but this vulture (they/them) isn't going to be having any beef with living Drakes since their sworn enemies died long ago

More trivia, their name is a blend of Mesmerize and Dream

They are far from the only magical being to slip through the cracks and go unknown for so long

Tim Drake, descended from a line with the power to ensnare one of Mes'Dremere's power, is a canary in the coalmine so to speak, seeing strange beings that appear to do nothing, but attach themselves to practically everyone, even Batman

And with every rogue attack, every act of corruption, and especially Arkham Breakouts they only grow more numerous

He can even photograph them

"This isn't my Deepest Dream, I still need to figure it out, but can you tell me if there's a monster on this man's head, or if I'm just hallucinating?"

"To think, to think, I would ever see such a thing again. My boy, an awful, awful evil has beat me here, such that it will cast this place into a greater despair than ever seen before, before."

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Hollowing Wish, entities as older than Mes'Dremere; they seek personhood, purpose, dreams and the will to go forward by feeding from unprotected and unsuspecting victims, so that they may finally end their everlasting hopelessness

But saying they are eating victims into depression isn't true. When someone, for example, expresses willpower, they release an energy the Hollowing Wish will then consume. A junk food compared to getting it from the source, right inside. It's not enough for them

Pursuing a fruitless path to ending their plights, Hollowing Wishes take but never give to even themselves, only continuing the ever downwards spiral

victims can include but are not exclusive to: people, animals, and objects granted oh so much love and care

Regarding the last one, objects have a dense core inside them of all the deeply held feelings towards them, whilst surrounding it are the passing feeling people have for it

In the rare case of a Wish attaching to a target for so long, the two will become one, becoming something that could be mistaken for a meta, alien or something else---this form is a Nightmare Awakening

they unleash their pain and greedily keep their happiness locked away in their head in a desperate bid to hold into the remains being sapped away from the brain---until the target is reduced to a hollowed husk with nothing left within

As for the Hollowing Wish? they fucjing combust since taking in joy fresh from the fruit pulp instead of the juice is more than they're built to contain, leading to surrounding area and beings being entrenched in brief happiness, and then an onslaught of magical despair until the magical despair in the area and people dries up over time

What is it that causes them to spawn? Who migrated here, bringing their anguish with them?

The Hollowing Wish is an extension of a will, a will in even greater despair---Praying For a Forever Demise

"To think it was a Forever Dream they prayed for long ago, but then, but then?"

"Their unending praying manifested into a terrible, terrible demise . . . a name so long is easier to call Praying. It too serves well enough in reminding us how we got here, does it not, does it not?"

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

More tethered to the physical plane as one born into it, Tim is offered the power to become a hero himself, specialized to fight against the Hollowing Wishes

But he's just a fanboy! Wouldn't Batman or even Robin be better?

"Speaking from personal experience, he seems like far the man who would let these practices into his life, even with him having no other choice, no choice."

"Besides, besides, Robin must have his plate full, plate full. What better way to express your love for the Bats, than to ease their burdens, no matter how thankless, how thankless?"

"His own body can only go so far, hold so much, so much magic indeed."

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

The streets have begun to talk of a boy . . .

"Magical Boy!" "Do you think Gotham is some kind of Sailor Moon episode?"

A boy without a mask yet crusading as the Bats do. Unrecognized like them; magic it must be

"I'm Dreaming of Robin," he says he is, "but I've never met Robin or Batman yet."

Colloquially, Dreaming Robin or Dream(s) Robin

He's found where the Bats won't be, putting a stop to crime, giving thankless aid, and other acts of public service

But stranger is that which he grants and insists people keep around their house for protection

Blank photographs that upon touch become depictions of the little things that grant a bit more joy

And less pressure on their shoulders

By Dreaming Robin's side is a vulture, a guardian calling themself Mes'Dremere

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Magical Boy Dreaming of Robin, Tim Drake. What does his arsenal hold? Listen Right Up!

[Materialized Eternity] is the ability to utilize photographs Tim takes by pouring his magic into his photos of choice

Say for example that Tim photographed Nightwing quadruple backflipping, a feat impossible for Drake

If Tim puts magic into that picture and he has it on his person, he will be able to reenact that quad-backflip just like Nightwing did, but doing so will drain the magic in the photo like a battery

After running out, the picture would need to be recharged on magic to be put to use again

That's just one way Tim can use the magic

[Lasting Photoshoot] the ability to pause time on entities and an area right after Tim takes a photo of for a short period of time

[Merry Memory] is the power to take a blank photograph and enchant it to protect people from magic by taking the image of something they love. It's Tim's go-to for defending people and himself from Hollowing Wishes

[Realization in Reach], Realization for short, is a magical staff and his primary weapon, as it can channel Tim's latent magical powers along with his gifted ones.

While feasible as a physical weapn, it gives Tim's magic more strength and a much wider area of effect. Emphasis on the more strength which Tim has to be careful about

[Forever Remember] is the power to photograph a Hollowing Wish that Tim defeats and thus seal them permanently within those photos

Photoed Wishes can be weaponized against other Wishes and Nightmares to make them fight for the same resources they crave. When weaponized wishes run dry, unlike Eternities, those Wishes effectively die and cease to exist

the photo becomes blank, and can picture something else

Tim also has safes with as much scientific and magical security employed, storing albums with Hollowing Wishes and Materialized Eternities to swap out

Now for The Best Part yet!

"My Deepest Dream, I'll make you true!" A heirloom locket holding Tim's most precious photo of Robin he's ever taken, it is his chosen transformation item

(here's to hoping it never gets taken away due to that very picture within, because Tim won't be the only person fucked over by it)

As a rule of thumb, Dreaming Robin's outfit, his arsenal, and the photos he gives to protect against Hollowing Wishes all look like they came out of a painting, specifically what you get when googling "mystical painting"

Tim does learn some other magics that can be used to fight against Hollowing Wishes, Nightmare Awakenings and purify an area and people suffering the affereffects of a Hollowing Wish exploding and spreading their despair everywhere

Yeah Tim is gonna angst every time he fails to save a Nightmare Awakening before it's too late for them, poor him :(

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

In unrelated news? Tim has himself a pet too well trained, yet several times proven unabused and pampered

American Robin Dreams Come True 'Dreams' who people swear came from a painting despite their vibrant feathers being so picturesque, and vibrantly red all naturally

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Gotham is yet again the source of insanity. That being strange monsters that abruptly show themselves to people before forcibly turning them into monsters

Thankfully, Dreaming of Robin always comes to save the day

Hollowing Wishes, he calls these monsters

Nightmare Awakenings, the victims are named

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Some extra deets

Haha depression go brrrr

Praying For a Forever Demise is like this due to how much anguish, and hollowness they hold, and the desire for joy they want &/or used to have

Maybe they got their depression all naturally, or maybe magical shenanigans lead to them possessing an ungodly amount of it inside of them idk, maybe a blend of both

But yeah, Praying is only going to put to a stop when help and empathy is placed in front of them, and the shot of a happy dream everlasting is finally in reach

Also uh, Praying isn't wholly aware of wtf is going on outside of their head as they stew in their despair, with the rare blips of hope provided by Hollowing Wishes

Their situation is similar to a powerful deity unaware of their godhood and untrained into their powers which need to actively be restrained, but that has evidently not happened

so yeah, they're unknowingly spreading their depression everywhere

Or maybe they have come to awareness that spreading Hollowing Wishes is what they're doing and have compartmentalized that, it doesn't stop their depression from being worse nor even more Wishes spawning but willful ignorance is intoxicating

idk how they traveled to Gotham either lol, but they're dead center in Arkham Asylum, and with it being the new source for Hollowing Wishes, its gonna became way, way worse than in canon

Also prior to being Praying For a Forever Demise, they were Praying For a Forever Dream, do with this knowledge what you will

Are other Drake artifacts magical as well? You decide!

For clarification, Tim's magical boy alias, "Dreaming of Robin" is maybe an accident where he just states that "yeah I dream of Robin, he's my hero" but people thought he was stating his name so it stuck

Or maybe he intentionally introduces himself like that for the symbolic name

Mes'Dremere employs a whitelist geass preventing people from finding out Tim is Dream Robin unless they're whitelisted

I'm thinking that Tim could accidentally snatch up future Waynes into his team, and under Mes' tutelage, Stephanie, Duke, Cassandra and maybe even Damian

I think Jason, after dying and reviving, and he alongside Damian due to the Lazarus Pits, would be especially vulnerable to Hollowing Wishes, so woof

Side note, I think Tim would offer Jason-as-Robin the chance to become a Magical Boy with him, only for him to decline and after resurrection thinking

"I should've taken the Magical Boy route when I had the chance," lmao

Idk if Tim would still become a Teen Titan here, but it'd be neat if all of the Young Justice core four and maybe more became/joined the magical boy & girl team

Since Arkham is a breeding ground of Hollowing Wishes, people there are the least likely to become Nightmare Awakenings since they all have countless Hollowing Wishes attached to them

that means several Wishes are fighting for resources against eachother to sap up expressed will/joy/accomplishments etc.

Because they're fighting over the same person, often dying in the process and others joining the fray in fighting over their victims, they often make little progress in making way to becoming Nightmare Awakenings

So yeah, where as Batman and the clan will be more focussed on their rogues, Tim is more worried about normies who are more likely to fall victim to Hollowing Wishes

That being said, he doesn't wanna see a rogue or bat become a Nightmare Awakening, so he gives them both tons of Merry Memories and get rid of as many Hollowing Wishes on them as he can

And he's rightfully afraid, all hell will break loose if they subcumb to Nightmarehood

Feel free but not pressured to expand on this as you all wish

A magical boy Tim AU? Hell yeah.

Some additional ideas to add:

Tim's outfit comes from the culture present at the time of when Mes'Dremere was imprisoned. Tim has absolutely no choice in this matter, which is an initial point of contention. However, it eventually becomes a point of pride and comfort

The culture is one specific to this AU (so there's no cultural appropriation). Similar to Atlantis, Krypton, and other lost societies, Tim starts to discover their practices, rituals, customs, etc when he's trying to connect to his roots (since it's also the culture of his ancestors).

Jason rejects becoming a magical boy because he's "a literature nerd, not that kind of nerd." Tim's a little offended by this, but they get over it quickly. Jason also grumbles when he gets the All Caste because he ended up becoming a magical boy anyways, just without the transformation scene.

There can be angst added where Jason says Robin is magic so he doesn't need to become a magical boy. Then Jason dies and ends up getting All Caste.

Tim ends up learning a lot about psychology as a nonmagical way to help people as well. If there are fewer depressive symptoms, there's less for the Hollowing Wishes to feed on. Also, mental health techniques/coping mechanisms can delay the progression into a Nightmare Awakening.

The YJ core don't end up becoming magical boys/girls except for Bart. They do team up, though, and Tim helps a lot in battles even when there aren't Hollowing Wishes.

Cass would definitely vibe with becoming a magical girl since there's no killing. She'd probably do both the magical girl routine and become a Bat cause she's awesome like that

Would Damian view the Wishes as creatures?

Tim is able to form a different type of friendship with Zatana, Raven, and Anita due to his magical status. He also likes to call up Constantine to bother the poor bastard (it's funny to him).

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 4 months

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Word count: 1900+

Warning: a bit of depressive/sad thoughts, but otherwise just fluff (I put all the action aside for next part😉)

Part VI | Part VIII

Muffled sounds from downstairs woke you up before the dawn. You were early bird, but this was too early even for you. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. Your eyelids were too heavy to keep them open. Blindly fumbling around you found a blanket and wrapped your shivering shoulders in its warmth, reluctantly dragging yourself from the bed. Yawning you went down the stairs.

"What are you doing so early?" Half of the words was swallowed by another yawn.

Golden haired male turned around in surprise, big box in his hands, another two on the table. His emerald eyes shined in excitement.

"Did I wake you up?" he smiled brightly. "I'm so sorry, I was trying to be quiet." With that smile it was hard to believe he was really sorry.

"Ughm," you curled up in your armchair, resting your head comfortably on a small pillow, and closed your eyes again.

"Happy Solstice," he hummed happily, kissing top of your head.

"Sol- what?" You were still half asleep, not fully comprehending what he was saying.

"Solstice," he laughed and put the box down next to the fireplace. "Did you forget?"

"Oh." You searched your sleepy mind. Solstice. Right. You were talking about it last night. Tamlin wanted to celebrate it with you. "Oh," you were instantly awake, your full attention trained on him. You stood up, flustered. "I'm going to change. I'll be back in a minute."

You ran up the stairs, throwing the nightgown aside you slipped into your dress and brushed your hair quickly. Heaving you returned down.

Tamlin's brows raised, amused smile decorating his handsome face. He whistled. "That's what I call speed," he laughed, the sound so beautiful that it made you smile, too.

"Don't make fun of me and show me what we are going to do," you playfully poked him, curiously examining the contents of the box he held now. You gasped. It was full of lovely and delightful red and gold coloured glass decorations. You had never seen anything like that. "Where did you take this all from?"

"Well.. about that.." he said sheepishly, reluctant to give you the answer. You reached in and carefully picked up one of the beautifully painted glass balls to examine it closely. You got your answer as soon as the slight smell of magic hit your nose. You returned it back to the box, trying hard to keep the smile on. "I wanted to surprise you and get everything ready before you get up," he said apologetic.

"That's okay," you said nervously. "Do you want a cup of tea?" You needed space. Magic was the last of the things you wanted to deal with first thing in the morning.

"You mean your delicious fragrant tea?" he was trying to lighten the situation. "Always."

With a nod you went out to get some of the herbs you picked up the other day. Since Tamlin walked into your life, you were running out of herbs faster than usual, but you didn't mind. It was a pleasure to prepare tea for somebody else, especially when the person enjoyed it. One would say that High Lord definitely preferred wine or other fancy drinks that Fae in his position inclined to, but Tamlin was eager for your ordinary tea.

Once you were out, you also checked the remaining herbs that hung under a small shelter behind the cottage, already feeling better. With a gentle smile and hand full of chamomile, mint and lemon balm you headed back. You halted on threshold, surprised.

Room was full of green garlands decorated with fairy lights, red ribbons and shiny little decorations, and in the middle of that stood Tamlin trying to hang up mistletoe on the chandelier. It was so beautiful that your pulse went up and breath caught in your throat.

Tamlin noticed you and smiled flashing his white teeth. His green eyes were just as shiny as the fairy lights around him. "Do you want to help me with this one?"

Unable to speak you just nodded and leaving herbs on the table you stepped closer to him. He handed you small sprig of mistletoe, his big hands falling to your waist, holding you firmly. With small nod he lifted you up as if you were a feather. You fastened mistletoe with red ribbon, but it wasn't easy task because your fingers were trembling. When you were done, Tamlin put you back down, but his hands stayed on your waist.

He looked up to check on your work. "You know, there's a certain tradition in human lands," he hummed.

"What tradition?" you breathed out.

"If you find yourself standing with someone under the mistletoe, you have to kiss them, otherwise you will have a bad luck." He looked back down at you, gleaming green emeralds full of hope. Your heart stuttered at the sight. Swallowing you nodded once.

Small smile appeared on his face. Watching you carefully Tamlin leaned down. His gaze moved to your lips for a second. An inch. There was only an inch between your lips now. His hands tightened on your waist, thumbs drawing small circles. Your heart throbbed almost painfully against your ribs, you stopped breathing. Millions of unfamiliar emotions suddenly emerged, middling together. It was all so overwhelming and confusing that it made your head spin.

Tamlin's soft lips connected with your cheek in a tender kiss. He stayed like that for few breaths and then he straightened up, smiling at you gently when he noticed your flustered state. "Are you okay?"

"I-I.. yes.." you blinked, blushing fiercely. You averted your eyes shyly, fingers covered the place his lips touched. For some reason you felt.. disappointed. What did just happen? And what did you expect he would do? "I should.. I'm going to make that tea," you backed awkwardly, collecting the herbs you left on the table. You could feel his amused gaze following your movements.

"I was thinking," he said while taking a seat at the table. "Today is a special day and I basically invited you to the dinner. How about I prepare the feast myself? I mean I'm not a cook, so it won't be the best food of your life, but.. I want to surprise you."

"Okay," you quickly agreed.

"You don't mind if I use your kitchen?"

"Not at all. I have no idea how this feast should look like anyway," you shrugged. "Do you need me to help with anything?"

"Nope, I will manage," he laughed. Again.

You noticed that Tamlin had been smiling more often lately. He also gained some confidence and with every day he looked more like High Lord than a beaten beast he was when you met him. He was recovering. Soon enough the time he didn't need you anymore, would come. The realisation was painful.

Clearing the throat, you turned to him with two cups of tea. "So if you don't need me, I will go on a stroll. We are running out of mint again," you tried to sound happy, but even to you your own voice sounded broken.

Tamlin narrowed eyes on you. "You don't have to go today," he murmured, searching your eyes.

"No, it's fine. I need fresh air anyway."

Tamlin frowned, the claws visible under his skin, but he didn't say anything and so after the breakfast you took your basket and left.

Lost in thoughts you didn't pay much attention to where you went. You lost track of time. When a small clearing with pond appeared in front of you, you sat down on the bank, hugging your knees. The thought of him leaving because he didn't need you anymore was still bothering you. It hurt in a way you've never felt before.

By the time to return home came, you made peace with the thought. It still hurt, but it was inevitable. Tamlin was High Lord. He had too many responsibilities to slob around with you in the forest. His land needed him, Fae living here needed him. He had to return home and rule. You lived alone before. You could do it again.

On your way back you grabbed some herbs. As you got closer to the cottage air filled with smell of something delicious and your stomach twisted in answer. You skipped the lunch, so naturally you were hungry. All windows were wide open. Tamlin most likely used magic to help himself while cooking to impress you with feast. You smiled at the thought.

Leaving the basket and herbs under the shelter behind the cottage, you stalked back to the front. The door opened before you could even touch it.

"Welcome home, Y/N," Tamlin welcomed you with a bright smile. He changed his clothes and freshly bathed he looked somehow neater than normal. He took your hand leading you inside.

The room behind him with all the decorations was just as stunning as the first time you saw it. And now there was a small addition to it. The table was buckling under the abundance of delicious looking food.

"What do you think?" he asked closing the door behind you.

"It's.. amazing," you couldn't stop looking around, your eyes lingering on small details.

"I'm happy you like it," he purred, holding a chair for you. You sat down and he took his place across from you. "So shall we start?" You nodded, already looking forward to try the nice smelling and deliciously looking food in front of you. And you weren't disappointed. It tasted even better than you imagined.

"It was so delicious," you sighed happily putting the cutlery down, your stomach full. You had never eaten so much in your life.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Tamlin winked and finished last bite. He wiped his fingers into napkin and reached to his pocket. A small velvet box tied with ribbon appeared on his palm. He held it out to you. "Happy Solstice, Y/N."

You blinked in confusion. "What is it?" you asked warily.

"It's a present, another tradition."

"But.. I have nothing for you."

"It's okay," he shook his head. "You've already given me so much. It will take hundreds of years of Solstice gifts to repay you for everything you've done for me. Plus you are here now," he added so quietly you almost didn't hear it. "Even my family never celebrated anything with me."

It felt like farewell. All of the sad feelings you fought with earlier in the forest returned at once, tears stinging your eyes. You took the box from him carefully and set it down on table.

"Will you open it?" he leaned closer, green eyes shimmering with expectation.

Swallowing the lump that created in your throat, you looked up at him and then back down at the box. You were nervous when you pulled the ribbon. Opening the lid slightly you peeked in. There on white pillow sat a small rose made of white gold and pink shiny stones. It was so beautiful that you went speechless.

"May I?" Tamlin spoke next to you, his breath fanning your ear. He stood above you, reaching for the necklace. Smell of rain filled the air. Before you could answer, he fastened the delicate chain around your neck, small pendant hanging between your collar bones. His long fingers caressed back of your neck lightly.

"It suits you," he smiled, kneeling down next to you.

The moment your eyes met with his, you surged forward, hugging him tightly. He stiffened for a single heart beat, then letting out a long breath, his body relaxed under you and arms wrapped around your waist.

"Thank you," were the only words you managed before turning into crying and sobbing mess.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore

#tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin fanart #tamlin acotar #tamlin fluff #tamlin #high lord of spring court #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #pro tamlin #tamlin week #acotar x reader #sarah j maas #english isnt my first language

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hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months

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You know how I love before & after pics. Well, look at this, remember when I posted the Henry Ford pagoda house in Grosse Ile, Michigan? It was so depressing, outdated and creepy? Shellydanger just submitted it and I noticed that it had a redo. Basically, they repainted, lightened and cleared out the rooms. It was also $989,900 and now it's been lowered to $799,999. Check it out, now.

The dingy hallway before.

The hallway now- much brighter light and they removed the curtains. (Worn carpet still remains, thought.)

The living room before.

And, the new, brighter living room. (But, that carpet.)

The very dark library before.

And, the lighter brighter library now.

The dining room before.

The dining room now. New paint and a new floor.

The kitchen had great retro cabinetry and tiles.

Glad they didn't change the retro look, but it still looks like a very commercial kitchen.

The primary bedroom was dark.

They emptied it out and lightened it up.

How did the current owners keep it so dark?

Look at how different the color of the purple bath looks now.

A secondary bedroom.

Pared down and brightened.

The other lovely retro bath.

Basically it just looks like they just turned on all the lights.

The basement stairs and floor got some new paint.

They fixed up this room, but it doesn't look like they did anything with the bar.

The boat slip looks better straightened up and letting the light in.

This isn't shown on the real estate ads, but it was on the house's Facebook page- the lower level wine cellar got spectacular uplighting.

Redoing the exterior.

The exterior is really looking good.

Check out the groovy new lighting. Too see the Before realty ad on the blog, use the tag Henry Ford house before.

#Henry Ford Pagoda house #Henry Ford house #Henry Ford house before & after #houses #historic houses #house tours #home tour

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paperweight-inshadesofgreige · 1 month

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starduckys -> paperweight-inshadesofgreige

now playing: the prophecy by taylor swift

hibi/wine ⋆ she/they ⋆ minor ⋆ may 11th (taurus) ⋆ aegosexual polyromantic intp-t ⋆ eest (utc +3:00) ⋆ spotify ⋆ pinterest ⋆ carrd ⋆ uquiz ⋆ hibiwine on dc (open dms!!) > old habits die screaming. > impressionist paintings of heaven. (my moodboards)

musicals -> hamilton, beetlejuice, heathers, dear evan hansen, ride the cyclone, in the heights, into the woods, 21 chump street, the greatest showman, jesus christ superstar, six

music k-pop -> enhypen, stray kids, xdinary heroes, boynextdoor, dxmon, tomorrow x together, new jeans, zerobaseone, cravity, &team, nine.i, fifty fifty, epex, 8turn, evnne, toz, tiot, riize, illit, vcha, beomhan other -> taylor swift, lin-manuel miranda, conan gray, alec benjamin, laufey, peggy, girl in red

movies/shows -> moominvalley, heartstopper, hazbin hotel, helluva boss, pjo, wednesday, vivo, miraculous, wonka, nimona, itsv & atsv

animanga -> vanitas no carte, tbhk, kny, oshi no ko, wonder egg priority, the promised neverland, bsd, spy x family, mha

books -> dark rise & dark heir, osemanverse, shusterman's books, agggtm, ella minnow pea, poison for breakfast, ink in the blood, spindlefish and stars, kiss & tell, ana on the edge, improbable magic for cynical witches, the scapegracers, eat your heart out (+more i could talk abt books for ages)

misc -> keroppi <3 kirby <3, coffee!!, slytherin, silly goose, founding fuck, people pleaser, extroverted introvert, social anxiety !!! , depression, angst > fluff, folklore & midnights my loves, mint choco>>>, if we're moots ur my family now. i love you. /p

dni : homophobes, transphobes, ableists, racists etc., -12, empty blogs

🍉 this blog stands with palestine!! 🍉

small star dividers by @/benkeibear. star dividers with lines by @/saradika-graphics. ttpd dividers by me, pictures taken from pinterest.

moots <33 : @loveofmylife-lossofmylife @abodyhasbeenfound @charmedoralarmed @jittyjames i'd tag more but social anxiety's not rly. on my side tonight.

#hibi's intro <3 #intro post #pinned post #sry i listened to ttpd and made it my whole personality

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gay-jewish-bucky · 1 year

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The Rogers-Barnes Seder Plate: Finding Yourself in Tradition and Forging New Ones

The plate itself is lovingly hand painted by Steve under the careful guidance of his Jewish husband, Bucky.

The Traditional Seder Plate

Karpas – Greens (often parsley) In Tradition: When dipped in salt water, is symbolic of the tears shed by the Israelites while enslaved in Egypt. For S+B: Also represents regrowth and putting down new roots as we embrace the second chance we've been given at life.

Marror and Charzet – Bitter Herbs (often horse radish & lettuce) In Tradition: Symbolic of the bitterness of Egyptian slavery. For S+B: Also represents the bitterness of the ableism and antisemitism we have faced.

Charoset – Mortar (a mix of apple, nuts, spices & wine) In Tradition: Symbolizes the mortar used by Israelite slaves to build Egyptian structures. For S+B: Also represents the sweetness of us building a life together.

Zeroa – Shank Bone In Tradition: Symbolic of the sacrifice made on the eve of the exodus from Egypt. For S+B: Also represents the sacrifices we have made to survive and to do what is right.

Matzot In Tradition: Symbolic of the bread eaten by the Israelites after leaving Egypt, unleavened because their bread had no time to rise. S+B: Also represents us living through the Great Depression and learning to make the best of what we have.

Zeroa – Shank Bone In Tradition: Symbolic of the sacrifice made on the eve of the exodus from Egypt. For S+B: Also represents the sacrifices we have made to survive and to do what is right.

Beitzahv – Roasted Egg In Tradition: Symbolic of Passover sacrifices made at the Temple. For S+B: Also represents the symbolic end of our old lives in the 20th century and our rebirths into the 21st century.

New Traditions

The Orange – LGBTQ+ Jews The bitter seeds, which are spit out, represent denouncing the bitterness of homophobia, while the sweet and abundant Juice represents the fruitfulness for all Jews when queer Jews are embraced and welcomed as contributing and active members of Jewish life.

Artichoke – Interfaith Families The petals of the artichoke represent the diversity and beauty of the Jewish people, the thistles represent the traditional hesitance towards intermarriage.

When the thistles are softened, we find the heart of the artichoke, this represents us opening our hearts and embracing interfaith families within the Jewish community.

The Star Fruit – Bucky's Personal Exodus The unique shape of the fruit's flesh represents the star on the titanium prosthetic that replaced his flesh arm.

The juice of the star fruit is both sweet and tart. The tartness symbolizes the decades he spent in bondage, the struggle of healing from physical and mental trauma.

The sweetness symbolizes the miracle of his survival, the love that liberated him from HYDRA, the power of reclaiming control of his own mind, the beauty and joy of recovery, his innocence for the crimes of his captors, as well as symbolizing the home he has built with the man who whose love brought him back to himself.

#Jewish Holiday Writings - Pesach #marvel #mcu #stevebucky #stucky #jewish!bucky #jewish!bucky barnes #jewish bucky #jewish bucky barnes #steve rogers #steven grant rogers #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #shoah mention

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lavenderfluorite14 · 3 months

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A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 3: Kiss

Summary: Astarion sets some boundaries, then drinks his fill.

Chapter Warnings: 18+, Explicit Content, Blood Drinking, Brief Somnophilia, Masturbation.

Full tag list on AO3. Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

A/N: Happy Patch 6 Update Eve! Also Happy Valentine’s Day, I love everyone who has clicked on this fic so I’m updating early. Please enjoy some Astarion self-love smut. ❤️‍🔥

The next morning Tav emerged from her tent well rested and alert. She made her morning rounds as usual, but each time Astarion thought she was making her way over to him Tav would instead veer away, seemingly captivated by some other distraction. Was she ignoring him? Was Tav going to leave him at camp with the other rejects while she adventured with her favorites? His uncharacteristic moment of shyness last night was already costing him. When Tav finally made her way over to him he slipped on his silkiest smirk. “My darling,” he immediately begins, “last night you were positively divine-"

“Wait, Astarion,” Tav interrupts. He stops, his monologue dead on his lips.

“I’m sorry for overstepping last night. I know you only wanted my blood.” Astarion blinks owlishly at her. She was apologizing to him. He could work with this. “For what it’s worth, I’m very disgusted with myself. But that doesn’t excuse my-”

“Oh, it’s not your fault that I’m so irresistible.” Astarion waves his hand. “I just wanted to make sure that you were alright,” he insists. Tav reddens, her blood blooming beautifully in her cheeks.

“I’m alright, Astarion,” Her fingers brush the amulet, which glitters against her throat. “This was a really thoughtful gift.” His stomach does a weird little flip-flop that he doesn’t understand. He knew she’d like it, that’s why he gave it to her. It benefits him.

“I’m so delighted,” he says. It’s not entirely a lie and a small frisson of fear coils at the base of his spine.

“But if you are uncomfortable with our arrangement, we can make some very simple adjustments.” He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “We can do this the traditional way. I’ll come to you at night after you are soundly asleep in your bedroll. ”

Tav shifts uneasily. “But are you sure-"

“And next time, I’ll make sure I’m quiet,” Astarion leans into her, invading her space. “I’ll take just enough to keep me sated,” he lowers his tone suggestively, “and just enough to keep you wishing for more.” Tav swallows at his innuendo, but she keeps her voice even.

“Whatever you are comfortable with, Astarion.”

“I promise, I am very, very comfortable,” Astarion lies. Now, shall we begin the day? These goblins won’t kill themselves.”

The blighted village was a depressing eyesore, but a small treasure trove of resources lay hidden behind its crumbling walls. Astarion could have wept when they discovered a bathtub on the upper floor of an apothecary. The alchemist who had lived there, Ilyn Toth, had been quite well-stocked. On the first floor they found all kinds of herbs, potions, and trinkets. Astarion was raiding a wine rack when Karlach called out to them: “Oi guys! There’s a hatch over here! Bet there’s even more stuff in the basement.”

More potions, more books, more trinkets. Karlach even took a painting off the wall at Tav’s urging. And then Astarion noticed a lever peaking out from behind a stack of boxes. Tav grabbed it and one of the many bookcases slid aside with an ominous creak, revealing a dank, wet passageway that wound its way deep into the earth. Obviously Tav wanted to check it out.

Tav had been cordial, if perhaps a little distant, since the morning. He thought that perhaps she was trying to give him space. He supposed it was cute, if a little silly. She wouldn’t feel so bad about wanting to use him if she knew even a few of the things he had done. But he could easily reel her in again. In the warm light of day his previous objections seemed childish and maudlin.

He was somewhat surprised that she had even agreed to night time feedings. “The Kiss” was a powerful relaxant, a brilliant adaptation for a devious nocturnal predator. To some, it was even an aphrodisiac. Why allow him to bite her at all if she couldn’t enjoy the effects? She must truly be a deviant. Nonetheless, this was still a mutually beneficial transaction. Astarion had gotten what he wanted. Why wasn’t he satisfied?

The passageway snaked its way into a glittering cave where half a dozen coffins moldered in the gloom. Karlach immediately pried one open and Tav discovered a scroll within its depths, a curious spell that allowed the caster to summon a quasit. She handed it to Wyll, who began studying it. Soon a foul-mouthed, gibbering little demon was trailing behind them, babbling on about some book with terrible magic inside. Astarion had wanted to name her Basket, but Wyll wanted to keep her previous name: Shovel.

Turns out, the good doctor had been dabbling in powerful necromantic magic beneath his quaint little shop. Useful necromantic magic. And it seemed like he had left in a hurry: books and notes were scattered all over his laboratory, bones and viscera littered the floor, and a body was unceremoniously dumped across a dirty operating theater. Tav immediately buried herself in the necromancer’s notes while Wyll and Karlach continued scavenging. Astarion’s eye was drawn to a curious cell embedded in the rock, locked behind a barred door. He jimmied the locks and traps easily, stepping carefully into the cramped room.

Inside the cell on an otherwise barren table lay one of the most menacing books that Astarion had ever seen. It had been bound in a suspicious and unidentifiable leather, and from its cover a wretched face emerged in a silent scream. There must be something good inside.

“This journal says that there was a key of some kind that went missing? And then days later Toth’s apprentice also disappeared?” Tav said.

“Very suspicious,” Karlach murmured. Astarion grinned. Necromancy meant control of the dead. Control of the undead. Perhaps even a spell or two for vampire lords.

“Then what are we sitting around for, darlings?”

That meddling boy must have been the dumbest apprentice in all of Faerûn. Turns out, stealing the key to an ominous necromantic tome meant chucking it down a well and into an infestation of venomous spiders. Astarion had laughed when Karlach tripped over the enwebbed body of the apprentice. Serves that fool right.

It was so faint that Astarion almost missed it. Deep in the darkness of the well a faint purple light pulsed and swirled. Kicking aside a spider carcass, Astarion plucked the gem from the grimy cave floor. Its eerie glow cast a strange pall over their faces. “I think that’s it,” Tav said, reaching out for the amethyst. Their fingers brushed and despite their thick gloves and the sweaty exertion from battle, Astarion felt a spark of electricity pass between them. Tav had been particularly vicious today, blinding and paralyzing spiders with barely a word. Then he would strike while they were stunned, piercing them with his sharp blades. They’d made a good team. He couldn’t help running his eyes along her throat and down her curves as he relinquished the jewel to her. Tav briefly polished the stone against the front of her jerkin and popped it into the front of the strange book, which began to glow with a sickly violet light. This was an evil book. A powerful book.

“Please don’t open the creepy book,” Karlach pleaded.

“That’s evil magic. We must destroy it,” Wyll insisted.

“And it looks awfully heavy. Why don’t you let me carry that for you?” Astarion put on his best pout, his eyes glittering in the lowlight. Tav turned towards him. “On one condition,” She said. Astarion stiffened. “Will you tell me what’s inside it when you are done?” Astarion smiled.

“I’ll tell you every last sordid detail, my dear.”

Camp was quiet that night. Gale asked many questions about the new book and even had the audacity to ask Astarion if he could have it instead. “Absolutely not. It is mine,” Astarion spat. Gale opened his mouth to protest but Astarion quickly added: “Tav said so.” Confusion and hurt both passed over Gale’s face and Astarion turned on his heel and left, clutching his dark prize tightly.

Tav had really given him the clearly evil necromantic book. First her blood, and now a powerful magical artifact that could possibly empower him against his master. He hasn’t even slept with her yet and his little investment was already paying off.

He settled into his tent, mentally preparing himself to read. He pulled a tufted chair up to the small table he had decided to use as a desk, both of which were stolen from the necromancer’s basement. Somehow, this felt familiar. It wasn’t concrete but he had a vague feeling, a memory in his body, of poring over thick, difficult to read tomes until the dense passages made sense or he made them make sense. He shrugged the feeling away: he wasn’t a magistrate anymore.

Astarion stared at the grim face on the cover of the book with disdain. It was so hideous. Astarion flipped open the heavy cover and a delicious wave of dark energy immediately surged through him. It felt energizing, powerful. He felt deep in his bones that he was on the right path, that this book could tell him exactly what he wanted to know. As he continued reading, the glyphs began to shift and swirl before his eyes. Magic rippled through the pages, through his fingers, through his body. Voices came to him, whispering terrible longings and secrets of every shape and size. The cacophony filled him so completely that his head began to throb with it.

Kill them. Kill them all.

Dark claws of magic pulled at his mind, trying to erode his will and drag him under its control. “No, I won’t kill them.” Astarion ground out as he thrashed in his chair, resisting the dreadful pull with everything he had. Well, maybe Karlach, he thought. Even in the grips of fell magic, he remembered how she had hoisted Tav up into her arms, effortlessly carrying her back to camp yesterday.

Look. Away.

Astarion mustered up every last ounce of his will, successfully slamming the book closed with a sickening thud. Free of the dark compulsions, he slumped forward in his chair. He wouldn’t kill Karlach. Karlach was too useful. And fun.

“Good book?” A voice cut through his tired thoughts like a hot knife and he bolted upright. Whirling in his seat, he saw Tav hovering at the entrance of his tent. He relaxed, somewhat. “Hello,” he said sheepishly. He gestured for her to come inside.

“Slow going, I take it?” Tav said, coming around his desk to peer at the book. “You could say that. It’s protected by vengeful spirits,” Astarion sighed. “They make it impossible to read the damn thing without triggering their unholy yammering.”

“I could tell. Are you alright?” Tav asked. Astarion nodded, hand waving her concern away. She hopped up on his desk and Astarion leaned back in his chair, turning to face her. “What do you think they are guarding?” she asked, kicking her feet as she perched. “It’s clearly something powerful, I can feel it,” Astarion gushed excitedly. “Anything could be in there. Ways to speak to the dead, control the dead. Bring the dead back to life. A way to free myself from Cazador could even be in there.” He looked up at her, saw the confusion on her face and internally smacked himself. Of course she doesn’t know who Cazador is. “Sorry, did you want something?” He snapped.

“Who is Cazador?” Tav asks innocently. He knows it’s innocent. He knows she’s just curious. Knowing her, she will probably think she can help.

“Cazador is none of your business,” Astarion spits. Tav stops kicking her feet. She slides off his desk, landing onto the dirt floor with a graceful plop.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she says diplomatically, but Astarion can tell she is disappointed. He just stares at her. She thinks she can handle it. But she’d hate him if she knew. She wouldn’t be so sweet to him if he told her. “I just came to tell you that you could feed on me again tonight. If you wanted.” Surprise washes over Astarion at this. Why is she being so nice to him?

He will have to tell her something eventually. But he doesn’t want to crush this tentative thing they have yet with his mess. Astarion slips on his mask, the face he knows Tav actually wants to see, and purrs:

“Then I’ll see you later, you sweet, generous thing.”

Tav lingers for another moment, sensing that she is dismissed, but clearly not wanting to leave. “Alright. Good night, Astarion. Get some rest if you can.” She leaves him to his bitter, lonely thoughts, just like he wanted.

Hours later, Astarion slips eagerly into Tav’s tent. He had waited impatiently until he felt her heartbeat settle into the steady rhythm of sleep. Now she lay before him like a fairytale princess waiting for true love’s kiss from a besotted prince. Such a pretty picture. It was almost a shame that she would get him instead.

He had denied her his body, taken her treasure, snapped at her, and told her no, yet she was still letting him drink her blood. He should feel guilty, especially after their earlier exchange, but it is in a vampire’s nature to take. And it is in her nature to give. How kind. How dumb. How lucky for him. After 200 years of starvation, slavery, and degradation he was going to seize every gift he received, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Astarion laid carefully down beside her. His hand drifted over her cheek, ghosting over her beautiful face. Leaning over her, he took a deep breath in through his nose, savoring the sweet smell of her hair, the savory notes of her skin. She was so warm up close. And now he had her all to himself.

His fangs sliced through her skin, hitting their sanguine mark with ease. He drank from her languidly, savoring each gush of blood that filled his mouth. Astarion felt some of it dribble down his chin, pooling in a seductive swirl along Tav’s throat. His cock twitched to life, slowly hardening with each mouthful of hot blood. When he was full enough he withdrew to admire her, yet again.

Tav hadn’t stirred at all. She lay peacefully asleep, completely undisturbed by his ministrations. Her expression was soft, relaxed in repose. She was completely unaware of the monster in her tent.

He returned dutifully to her neck, resuming his feast. But in between sips he pressed experimental kisses to her neck, unable to fully resist. Gods, she was gorgeous. And she was willingly letting him do this to her. She was clearly a fool. But she was his fool. Maybe she really would understand. He could never tell her everything, but maybe he could tell her certain things. He shuddered against her, dragging his lithe body against her in one tantalizingly slow motion.

Licking his lips clean of any blood, he laid a chaste kiss on her plush lips. He wanted to really kiss her, wanted to press his lips to hers and feel her open beneath him, ready to be taken. The memory of their previous kiss tormented him, made him achingly hard and filled him with stupid ideas that led nowhere.

Besides, this little display was a waste. Tav wasn’t awake to enjoy it, so what was the point. This won him no favors. But you like it, he thought. This brings you pleasure. He wanted to run as far away as he could and never come back. He wanted to bury himself completely between her legs.

He cleaned her up slowly. Tenderly, his traitorous mind supplied. He drew his tongue gently over her neck, lapping up any stray rivulets of blood. When he was done he pressed one final kiss to her neck, right over his bite.

Back in his tent Astarion flopped down into his nest of pillows, his deft fingers immediately grasping for the laces of his trousers. His neglected cock throbbed with a deep, insistent need that he could no longer ignore. He often had to make himself hard in order to perform for Cazador’s victims, but it had been an age since he had experienced an honest bodily reaction to someone. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. He was glad he was alone.

Initially he sets a brutal rhythm, just trying to get this over with. He strokes himself roughly from base to tip, hurtling himself towards oblivion. His mind drifts back to Tav and he realizes, as a pearl of precum beads on his tip, that he doesn’t actually want to rush this. He forces his hand to slow to a torturous pace, twisting his head on the upstroke in a way that pulls a breathy gasp from him. He imagines he is back in Tav’s tent, teeth buried in her throat and body settled firmly over hers.

Tav sleepily stirs beneath him, a moan on her lips. She presses herself upwards and begs him for more. “Please, Astarion.” He sinks his fangs deeper into her and she cries out sweetly, grinding herself desperately against his hard length like she did the other night. She’s at his mercy, overcome by pain and pleasure that only he can give her.

In his tent, heat pools in his abdomen and he finally allows himself to buck up greedily into his fist. In the fantasy, she spreads her legs for him and he slides easily into her, fucking her deeply, the taste of her blood still on his tongue. He licks his teeth, searching for any bloody remnants that might still be in his mouth. They are long gone but their ghost remains, faint but still ambrosial, and he moans with want as he fucks his fist faster. He takes her selfishly, pounding into her very core with unapologetic need. She clenches around him, shuddering on the brink of a powerful orgasm. She wants him, all of him. “Yes! Please, Astarion!”

His own climax hits him hard and fast, erupting all over his hand. He sinks further into his pillows, basking in the sudden afterglow. He can’t remember the last time he came like that. He can’t remember the last time he came at all. And to the thought of something as simple as Tav wanting him. He cringes at his juvenile fantasy.

The next morning Astarion surreptitiously watches Tav buckle her jerkin and equip her rapier, the perfect picture of a determined, capable adventurer. Today, Tav has decided to pay that sweet old lady a visit at her house, much to Lae’Zel’s irritation. This will delay their journey to the crèche but Tav says that they can’t afford to ignore any leads that they have, no matter how small. Astarion says nothing while Tav and Lae’Zel argue. The longer they delay, the longer he’s free. Astarion decides that despite the initial hiccups, everything is unfolding according to plan. Involving himself with Tav is a good tactical decision. And if he wants it too, well, then that is just a bonus.

Chapter 4: Confession

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