#and unfortunately that is the only thing that is feeding my brain of late <- less than ideal but I will persist in this.

[chiropteracupola]

[lying on the floor eating my phone] does anyone. does anyone want to suggest me some people to put in my silly little pokeverse.

[iikatsukii]

When the clock resets.

synopsis: you’re brought back to life, unsure as to why eywa has given you another chance but as you return “home” things aren't quite the same. . 

pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! reader, jake x daughter!reader

warnings: um tbh none except minor cursing, running away, passing out, mentions of malnourishment due to you being dead but yk. oh and ao’nung being a mama’s boy.

word count: 6,064

a/n: THIS IS PART 2 OF TOO LATE!!!! unfortunately there is no red text this time but guys i am still not done with this series because i have a request for if the reader survived the first part. but i will be moving back over to illicit love for a little bit because i didn't even expect this story to blow up like i did. like yall i was just sad and here yall are feeding off my trauma. but its okay yall are my little angst hungry babies. :) (also huge fucking shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me this idea for pt. 2. go give them kisses for me and say i sent you :d)

taglist: @hai-kbai @ssc7514 @sillydog3-4-5 @hyunskz @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @rairaielv @freeauthordeputyartisan-blog @mel119g @ksata @artyom09 @marcswife21 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @andyfromku

(if youre name has a strike through it that means i wasnt able to tag you im so sorry guys i tried)

waking up felt extremely weird. you felt like you had taken the longest, heaviest nap ever. slowly opening your eyes to adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings.

you're in a shallow hole, you noticed as you looked around, and there was dirt around you. you look up at what you would think was the sky and see something else that you remember seeing before. you see the leaf covering that the omatikaya place over their passed-away loved ones. you usually see these leaf coverings from the outside. this caused a slight panic to settle in your chest?

why are you here? did you die? what the hell is going on?

you reached your arm up, still feeling weak from not moving your joints in you don't even know how long. you slowly press against the leaf covering, pushing it away from the hole and exposing the sun to your eyes. you shielded yourself before you felt a shadow standing over your form. it was mo'at. the tsahik of the omatikaya clan.

"tsahik?" it was the first word you said, and it caused mo'at to press a hand to her mouth in shock as tears sprang to her eyes. her granddaughter, who had passed away two years ago, was looking up to her from her grave that she had pushed open herself. the tsahik didn't understand. how could the great mother take you away for two years and let their family mourn and grieve your death just to send you back to them two years later?

this made no sense.

"come with me, my child," was the only thing mo'at said as she reached out to grab your hand. she intertwined your fingers, wanting to hold her granddaughter as close as possible, fearing losing you again. she helped you out of the hole slowly as you still had to get used to moving your arms and legs around again. 

"ma tsahik?" you asked the older woman standing before you. "what happened to me?"

she didn't turn to look at you as she said in a hushed, almost hurt, tone of voice, "you died two years ago," you were left speechless. you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. you tried to think back on what happened before you woke up from your 'nap,' but you couldn't remember anything. no matter how hard, no memories or thoughts came to your head.

"do not try to work your brain so hard trying to find answers that will come to you, my child. you'll hurt yourself." the tsahik jokes.

you looked up at her, seeing the slight smile on her face but missing the faint trace of tears in her eyes. you let out a small laugh at her joke.

"hey! i may not remember anything from before, but i know i was not stupid before i died." you laughed along, but this caused the tsahik to stop in her tracks, turning to you.

"say that again." she said, grabbing hold of your shoulders, her face painted with worry. 

"i was not dumb before i died?" you said, confused at her sudden actions.

"no, child! the other thing you said."

"oh, that i do not remember anything from before i died?" your words were cautious because you didn't know if what you were saying was offensive. 

"we must get you back to the camps." was all she said as she turned, grabbing your hand, but this time she walked with urgency. her pace was hard to keep up with due to your aching body, but you somehow managed. 

once you started to enter your native territory, you felt eyes everywhere. everyone was looking at you. you get it; you died and came back, but did everyone have to stare at you like that? it wasn't like you were the olo'eyktans daughter before you died. 

mo'at brought you to the center of the high grounds camp, and everyone gathered around to see what announcement their tsahik had for them. 

she didn't have some big speech planned. she just held your hand and said to the clan's people. 

"the great-mother has returned my granddaughter!" everyone was cheering and happy. this confused the sully family. the past two years after your death have been hard. the natives completely annihilated every rda soldier, lab, and scientist in sight. it was an unexpected, coordinated attack between the forest na'vi, the ice na'vi, and, surprisingly, even the ash na'vi. due to transportation, the water na'vi couldn't make it to fight the war, but they were able to send over some of their finest healers. 

let's just say no ships are coming to pandora ever again. jake made sure to send a message to the humans back on earth that if they ever sent one of their own to his planet again, he would single-handedly rip them each limb from limb. that was a promise, not a threat. humans had not gotten a chance to respond to jake's words. right after he delivered his messages, he pulled the pin of a grenade and walked out of the ship, it and the rest of the camp's base exploding behind them. although they didn't get to respond, they sure did receive the message, and earth now no longer had an avatar program. as the na'vi walked away from the war, they were victorious once and for all. 

neytiri was quietly braiding her youngest daughter's hair when she heard the cheers and celebration of the clan outside her home. and then that's when her three older children came running into their hut, screaming and crying, speaking simultaneously. it sounded as if they were speaking gibberish. 

"hey, hey kids calm down. what is going on?" jake asked his children, who looked like they were in distress. he was sitting in the home's living area, sharpening his blade as he had nothing else to do. 

"Y/N HAS RETURNED." it was kiri who got the words out first. 

neytiri, jake, and tuk all froze. there was no way. the great mother had taken you right in front of their eyes. you have been gone for two years; it can't be. neytiri had visited your grave just last night. there you lay, closed-eyed and lifeless in front of her, but as she walked out of her home and into the center of the clan's gathering there, you stood. you looked skinny and malnourished, but you were standing, breathing, alive. 

neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. she thought she was dreaming as she approached you slowly. she held your face in her hands, and as soon as she felt your skin against her own, she broke down in tears, engulfing you in the tightest hug you had ever felt. 

"ow." you said when she squeezed a bit too hard. this caused the woman to release you quickly, as she had forgotten how fragile you were right now. 

"ma ite, you have returned to me, oh great mother, you have answered my prayers. thank you, thank you, thank you," she said as she pulled you into a hug again, this time softer, as if she was afraid that if she held you too rough, you would break in her arms. 

you, on the other hand, were nervous. granddaughter? ite? what is going on right now? there's no way you're the tsahik's granddaughter. you couldn't imagine what your mother would be like as a person, let alone any of your family. all you knew was that you were from the forest, but maybe eywa brought you back to the wrong part of the forest? you couldn't even look at the woman before you and pinpoint a resemblance. you had four fingers; some of her children had five, and you weren't like them. only one other child had four tingers, and you noticed it was the eldest son. 

when you made eye contact with him, his eyes softened. neteyam hadn't looked into his twin's eyes in ages. he missed you like no other. yeah, neytiri had it hard losing her first daughter, but neteyam had his twin's life ripped from her body right in front of his eyes. at that moment, it was almost like he felt the bullets go through his chest as well. that's how great the pain of losing you felt. but looking at you now, he felt like his heart was whole again. but there was this look in your eye. you looked different. not physically. you looked at neteyam differently. almost like you didn't recognize him.

mo'at had hoped that seeing your home and your family would cause your memories to come flooding back, but the look on your face was not giving her that impression. 

"i am sorry if i am ruining a happy moment…." you spoke up, causing everyone to immediately silence themselves so they wouldn't miss a word you said. but you didn't say anything that caused any happiness or joy in anyone. instead, your words scared everyone.

"–but i do not know who you guys are. i am not the tsahik's granddaughter and miss, i am not your daughter. i am sorry but i think you have things confused. please excuse me." you pulled yourself away from the woman who claimed to be your mother, but she tightened her grip on your hands.

"ma y/n, what do you mean? you do not remember me? i am your mother, your sa'nu. you are ma ite, my sweet girl." neytiri was taken aback. this isn't right, you're supposed to come back, and then everything goes back to normal. but the great mother has returned you with no memories at all. to you, neytiri was just a stranger claiming to be your mother.  

the next person to approach you was the olo'eyktan himself. you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes because of how his vast form intimidated you.

"itetsyip. maybe if you come home and see some of your things then you'll remember." he said, placing his hand on your back and walking you in the direction of what you assumed was their home. you quickly remove yourself from the two adults who had you in their arms. 

"i am sorry but i am not your daughter. i do not want to enter your home to look at whatever things you think are mine. just because i have no memory of my family does not mean you get to take me away from them. the great mother may have returned me to my body with no memories but that does not mean you get to put whatever you want in my head, trying to get me to believe you. i only just returned. do you not understand how overwhelming this is?" you were scared. everything was happening so fast. 

you just found out that you had been dead for two years, and now these people are trying to push this life in you that you know god and well that wasn't yours. you don't know who these people are, and they were making absurd accusations. maybe you really were in the wrong part of the forest.

"y/n stop joking around. do you not remember us? you are neteyam's twin sister for crying out loud. how can you be cruel enough to pull a joke like this? have we not suffered enough?" lo'ak was fed up with this whole situation. you were his sister, dammit. how could you not remember that? neteyam is your twin. you, tuk, and kiri were sisters. they're standing right in front of you, just begging you to run into their arms so they can embrace you.

you looked at the teenage boy oddly. like he had three heads. he doesn't know what he's talking about. these people are so pushy and demanding; you can't come from a family like this. you thought about it, and you knew they would be able to catch you if you tried to make a break for it, but you didn't want to be here anymore. 

lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the family's eldest son walking up to you. he gently grabbed your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes that were identical to his. 

"you could not have forgotten about your twin brother have you, sister?" his words were soft. they sounded broken like he was hurting inside. from what? you don't know, but this isn't your problem to deal with. these people obviously lost somebody, but it is not you. you are not from here. so you hatched a plan in your head. 

"maybe i just need to walk around the forest and re-familiarize myself. it–" you choked on your words, not even wanting to say it.

"it could help me regain my memories. and then we can be a family again, yeah?" you look into the boy's eyes, noticing them shining a bit brighter. you gave him hope. 

that wasn't your intention. you just wanted to leave, so to make yourself 100x more believable, you hugged him. with all the strength you had in your body, which wasn't much. 

everyone was shocked. even neteyam, but he didn't want to lose this moment, so he hugged you back tight, so you could feel his love but not too tight because of how weak you are. you pulled back from the hug, bowing slightly to everyone before you walked in the direction that you and the tsahik came from so you wouldn't seem lost. you looked back before you could fully disappear into the trees. eyes meeting those of the people who claimed to be your family. looking at them, you didn't even see where you would fit in. they already looked whole. so you managed a small fake smile, sent them a small wave, and continued your trek through the forest, trying to get as far away from the omatikaya people as possible.

by the time they realize you're gone, you'll already be way too far for them to find you. you wandered around, wondering why the great-mother returned you like this? did you not deserve to keep your memories?

almost as if she heard your question, the great mother flashed an image in your head. it was different shades of forest green, with indigo spots placed randomly around its body, looking almost like flowers. its wings were majestic, but you couldn't pinpoint what you had seen until it landed right in front of you, keeping you from walking off a cliff you hadn't even realized you were walking towards. 

you couldn't believe that after two years of being gone, your ikran, syulang, was still alive. you named her syulang because, yes, of course, she looks like she's covered in flowers, but unlike other ikrans, syu was quiet, elegant, almost undetectable in the air. you would never hear her flying anywhere, and nobody knew why. the air would run smoothly over her wings, completely muting the sound of the wind rushing by in comparison to the usual loud, noisy ikrans that everyone else had tamed. syulang was delicate, like a flower.  "syu! hi girl, oh my goodness you’re alive." you said as you created your tsaheylu with her for the first time in years. it felt like the first time all over again, except without the part where she tried to kill you. syulang was happy to see you as well, nuzzling into you. "syulang, we have to go. right now. come on girl, take me home." when you said this, syulang made a noise of confusion but allowed you to mount her anyways. the two of you took off into the night, the eclipse making it too dark for anyone to notice that an ikran was out flying. not like they would hear syulang anyways.

it's been hours. you still hadn't come back from the forest, and the sullys were getting worried. everyone was tense and stressed until kiri spoke up. 

"she ran away," the teenage girl hadn't even realized it was herself who had spoken. she looked up and made eye contact with everyone in her family, repeating herself.

"she ran away, and she is not going to come back." tears sprung to her eyes as she just wanted her sister to return home. it was like eywa was dangling the most precious thing to them right in their faces, and every time they reached out, she snatched it away. 

"she would not do that. she said she was just going on a walk. kiri have some faith in her. sure she did not remember us but she would not have hugged me if she was just gonna run away. she said she would come home." neteyam argued. he didn't want to believe that you had left them again, but that's what it was starting to seem like. 

"we will check the ikrans. if hers is still there, then she's around here somewhere. we can go out and look for her." syulang had not left your family's ikran nest since the day you had passed. she was too depressed to do anything with her hunter being dead. the sullys made sure to take care of her for you, knowing you wouldn't want syu to suffer like you did. honestly, syulang was the closest thing the sullys had to you after you died. they'd take turns taking care of her at night, bringing tuk every now and then so she could see syulang too. 

the walk to the family ikran nest was full of arguing. kiri said that neteyam and lo'ak had to come to their senses and realize that you were gone again. the boys refused to believe that you would leave again, but as they approached the ikran nest, seeing syulang's corner abandoned gave them the answer they fought over. 

you had left.

"i told you she left. i mean for eywa's sake you guys bombarded her as soon as she got here!" kiri yelled at her family. she knew this was just displaced anger and that she didn't really mean it, but she was tired of holding her tongue. 

"don’t you dare say we bombarded her! she is my twin who died in front of me! eywa forgive me for wanting to hug her after she's been dead for two years!" neteyam yelled back at kiri; this just caused a huge family argument to break out.

tuk, who was standing to the side watching her family fall apart, couldn't help but cry. she just wanted her family to go back to normal. "stop fighting…" it came out as a whisper, her family arguing so loud that they hadn't even heard her. so she decided to make them hear her.

"STOP FIGHTING!!" everyones' heads snapped at the youngest sully child. little tuk had just raised her voice at them for the first time ever.

"give me a break! we are all hurt okay?! us, y/n, grandma, the clan? everyone is sad! we did bombard her! she has not been here for two years. we should have let her settle in first. i get it. you guys miss her. so do i, but ma sa'nu when you talked to her she looked so confused and scared. and nete, when she was hugging you her eyes were so empty. she looked so lost. we scared her away. we had a chance to make things normal again, to be a family again and all you guys could do was be selfish and think about yourselves!! i just miss her. i want her to come back, i–" tuk couldn't even finish what she was saying as her sobs overcame her. neytiri scooped up her youngest daughter, cradling her in her arms, trying to soothe her harsh cries.

tuk had just lectured their entire family, and nobody could be mad at her because she was right. neytiri realized that she had been pushy. jake and lo'ak, too, but it wasn't because they were trying to scare you. they just missed you so much they couldn't contain themselves. they had been selfish, putting their feelings over yours once again. it was the same way they lost you last time, and now, who knows where you went or when you left. the family just remained in their ikrans nest that night, needing all the warmth they could get as they all just held each other and cried.

you didn't think you could fly any longer. it had already been a few days, and you didn't see the forest anymore. you already didn't have a lot of energy due to you being dead for two years, but it didn't help that you left with absolutely no supplies to survive on your own. everything was starting to look the same. you felt like you were going in circles, seeing the same islands over and over. the ocean water was beautiful, you had to admit, but right now, all you could think about was if it would cushion your fall if you fell off your ikran. you knew it was only moments before you passed out from exhaustion.

the world started to spin as if it wasn't already, your vision was in and out, and you felt sleepy. you were exhausted and couldn't fly another second. as your body completely shut down, you fell off your ikran and into the waters below you, your tsaheylu disconnecting in the process.

had it not been for the hunters out at three brothers rock, you would have died. they noticed your ikran flying in the direction of their mainland, assuming you were a visitor and that they would meet you when they got back to the island, but they knew something was wrong when they noticed your form plummeting from the extreme height, completely motionless. 

they only took a few minutes to have you on the rock. they were nervous about doing cpr on you because you looked to be a teenager.

"ao'nung, come over here!" the hunter in charge called over the olo'eyktans son.

"what is it?" he said, noticing the tension in the air. he looked down, seeing you unconscious on the ground. his eyes widened. where had you come from? pushing that question aside, ao'nung took in your appearance, noticing how thin and weak you looked. he didn't know what it was, but it stirred something in him. you reminded him of his little sister, tsireya. if this was her, he would want one of the hunters to save her, so he put one arm under your shoulders and another under your leg and slid into the water, calling out to his ilu. 

"i'm bringing her to my mother immediately. she looks weak. i don't even know if she'll live, but i have to try." he said before taking off as fast as he could to the mainland. he noticed above him your ikran was flying at the same pace as him, probably too worried to leave your side.

when ao'nung got home holding an unconscious forest na'vi, he received a lot of weird glances from the clan's people, but he didn't care. he rushed home, looking for his mother.

pushing the flap open to see his mother had just put the last of her herbs away, ao'nung called out to his mom. 

"sa'nu! help! i– she needs help. please." hearing her son in distress, ronal was quick to give him her attention. instructing to lay the girl on the floor, she reminded herself to ask him where he had found her, but right now, she prioritized saving your life. she tried a healing remedy that would've usually worked, but you remained motionless. ronal put her ear to your chest, your heart was beating, but it was very faint. she knew only one thing she could do now, and it was the riskiest healing remedy known by all tsahiks. it has a minimal success rate but has healed some of the deadliest injuries known to eywa.  

once the remedy was made entirely, ronal told ao'nung to get out and find his father and sister before coming back. the boy nodded, walking out to find his sister. 

when he spotted tsireya riding on the ilus with her friends, he called her over. tsireya noticed her brother looked a bit more anxious than usual, so she excused herself and walked over. 

"brother what is wro– oh!" ao'nung pulled his little sister into the tightest hug he could muster. she remained shocked as her brother wasn't really one for physical affection at all unless it was from his mother. 

"please just– don't die on me, okay? at least not anytime soon. promise me, okay?" he said, pulling back and grabbing her shoulders as he looked into his sister's eyes. she just nodded and walked alongside her brother, wondering what on earth had him shaken up like this. 

upon retrieving his father, ao'nung returned with his father and his sister in tow. when they entered the tent, you were in ronal's arms, crying your heart out. the woman just looked up to her family, shushing them as she continued to provide you comfort. hearing your cries throughout their home hurt their hearts. you cried like you were hurt like you had experienced grave pain, and it was coming back to haunt you. 

from this moment on, the family decided they would take you in. they didn't know who or where you were from, but they wanted to heal you of this pain. their hearts hurt hearing how much pain your heart had to endure. there's a reason why eywa brought you to them, and they were not about to let you go.

you had been living amongst the metkayina clan for about half a year now. you weren't even recognizable from when you had arrived at the clan. when you got here, you were thin as a twig, you never had the energy to do anything, and you cried yourself to sleep every night. now, you had filled out your form, even gaining a bit of muscle from adapting to the metkayina ways. you had also completed your iknimaya, which meant you were allowed to get a tattoo. you choose to get two. the pain was well worth it, though, because once your leg sleeve and arm tattoo were complete, you couldn't have been happier. 

you finally felt like your life was worth living again. you no longer cried yourself to sleep; instead, you snuck out with your brother and sister, going to the small island where all the young na'vi hang out. you were finally happy. the great mother had brought you home. she had returned you to your family. 

the only odd thing was your dreams recently. you dreamed of the forest, of nantangs, woodsprites, and ikrans. things that have nothing to do with the metkayina. it was weird. you felt like eywa was trying to shove memories in your brain, but you were so at peace with your life that you disregarded it, too caught up, in reality, to be bothered by silly dreams. 

you loved life on the beaches, in the sand, underwater, just taking in the beauty of awat'alu as you sat on a rock. at the same time, you watched ao'nung, tsireya, and rotxo playing on their ilus in the water. they were splashing each other, just taking time to be the teenagers they knew they'll never be again. you were about to cannonball in the water to join them when you all heard the horns of the clan being blown, announcing new arrivals. 

you all stopped what you were doing, looking toward the screeches you heard. you knew that sound, that was bob, jake's ikran.

wait a minute… what?

whos jake?

‘jake sully’ said a voice in your head. you recognized it as she had spoken to you once before, but you couldn't remember where. 

why is this name coming to your head right now? you felt your wrist being grabbed by your sister, tsireya. she dragged you to the beaches of your clan's home, where everyone else had gathered. you stood behind your father, tonowari, as you continued to think about the name that came to your head. who is jake sully, and why did you just remember his name? 

"my children, ao'nung, tsireya, and–" tonowari paused, looking to his side at his children, realizing one was missing, until he turned around and realized you were just hiding behind him. 

"–and my youngest, y/n, will teach your children the ways of our home, so you do not suffer the burden of being useless here," tonowari stepped aside, pushing you in front of him, so the family who had arrived could see you. 

you looked up to make eye contact with the first person you spotted.

"tuktuk." the words were quiet from your mouth. the little girl, who had her head tucked into her mother's neck, perked up when she heard the nickname you used to call her.

"kiri, cut it out. that is not funny!" tuk said, looking at her sister, offended she would play a sick joke on her like that after they had just left their home. 

jake and neytiri decided to move their family from the omatikaya clan, deciding that being there reminded them too much of you. it hurt to continue to live on the soil that you died on. so they up and moved their whole family elsewhere, flying towards warmer air and gorgeous waters. they fully expected to be able to find uturu with jake being toruk makto and their war being over. what they hadn't expected to see was their dead runaway daughter standing amongst a sea of teal na'vi.

slowly walking towards the family, tonowari called out to you, but ronal placed her hand on her mate's chest, telling him to shut up and watch what was happening.

"tuktuk," you repeated as you walked towards the girl. when tuk realized that the voice was coming from in front of her and not behind her, she turned her head around, her yellow eyes meeting yours. 

"y/n!!" tuk practically dropped herself from her moms' arms, running up to you. 

you met her halfway, falling to your knees, pulling your little sister into a hug, her face in your neck as you supported her head. as you looked at each one of them, their names, faces, and memories came back. you remembered everything. 

"and you're neteyam, and lo'ak and kiri!" when your siblings heard you say their names, it was like a switch in them flipped. within seconds they were all in the sand hugging you and tuk, crying because you finally remembered them. 

you pulled back from the hug, looking at the two people who hadn't joined the hug yet. 

"sempu," you said, reaching your hand out to jake. he didn't even try to conceal his tears as he allowed himself to join his children in their hug. 

your mother still stood there in awe. neytiri was scared. she was the reason you left last time and didn't want to scare you away again, so she just stood with tears rolling down her face, not knowing what to do. for the first time in her life, neytiri didn't know what to do. 

you could see the hesitation in her eyes. but you were confused as to why. neytiri was the only one who treated you right before you died… so why is she the last to come to you.

"mom?" you called out to her, but she didn't move. did she not want you anymore? has she gotten used to the family without you? 

you tried once more, refusing to lose your family again. "sa'nu, please." a tear rolled down your cheek, looking into your mother's eyes. you saw all the hurt and stress, everything she had to endure while you were gone. 

hearing you call her sa'nu was the last push neytiri needed before she fell to her knees and joined her family's embrace. you have returned. you returned to your family, and you were safe. everyone pulled back from you, taking in your appearance. you had matured a lot since the last time they saw you. you and neteyam were about the same height now, but your muscles surpassed his due to all the swimming you do. 

you noticed that he had noticed too, and you just nudged his shoulder with your own, "do not worry, twin, i will teach you everything you will need to know. maybe you will grow up to be big and strong like me," you teased your twin. neteyam rolled his eyes, laughing along with you. 

"woah! y/n, you have a tattoo?" lo'ak asked as he looked at your left leg. you just laughed at his silly question. of course, that's the first thing he asks you. 

"she has two! there's one on this arm as well," kiri said, holding out your right arm so they could see the tattoo that you had there as well. 

"no fair, mom, i want a tattoo." tuk said, whining to her mother. neytiri laughed at her daughter's statement and just pet her head, moving her braids out her face. "maybe when you're older, tuk," she said.

"babygirl," your father grabbed your attention. "i just want you to know that we are all so sorry for how we treated you before you past–" you cut your father off, shaking your head. 

"it is in the past. the great mother may have returned my memories but it is me who gets to choose which ones to remember. i want to leave the past behind me. i have found a new home here. new peace. a found family who loves me dearly. i don't want you guys to feel like you have to atone to anything. eywa has given us a new start, so i think we should welcome it with open arms instead of trying to mend that has already been healed," you really had matured in your time away from the sullys. 

they all looked at one another. if that was what you wanted, they would be sure to leave the past in the past so they can embrace the chance to make things right with you. 

you stood, the rest of the sullys following. you walked back over to tonowari and ronal, pulling them into a hug. 

"just because my memories have returned does not mean that you are not my family anymore. you have all helped and healed me from wounds that i did not know i had so i can only thank you, sempu, sa'nu. you guys are my found family and i would not trade you for the world." smiling up at your other parents. Wow, this is gonna get confusing, but you were more than excited to have two families. 

you looked over and pulled ao'nung and tsireya into the hug as well. "you guys, too, thank you so much," you said to your siblings. they couldn't do anything but hug you back. you may not be their biological blood, but they could care less. you are now one of their people. ronal and tonowari will always see you as their daughter, and ao'nung and tsireya will always see you as their sister. you will always be family to them. 

you and tsireya decided to guide the sully family to their new home, as ronal had allowed them to stay. you noticed that lo'ak was eying your sister up quite a bit and decided that you would tease him about it later. you were just happy to finally feel at peace. you finally had the family, the life you had dreamed of. 

you couldn't do anything except thank eywa for all the good she brought into your life. 

‘you're welcome, my child.’ it was the same voice that you heard earlier. when you realized that she was responding to your thanks, if you finally clicked whose voice you were hearing. 

it was eywa.

she was with you. she had always been. throughout this journey, she made sure to stick by your side. that was something that you couldn't be more grateful for. 

‘be free my child, allow nothing from here on out to hold you back. you are meant to live a happy life, and now you are able to do so.’

[modern-gremlin]

Morning Errands | Sebastian SDV — Married Life 🔞

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Sebastian (SDV) x afab!reader

Summary: You need Sebastian's help with beginning-of-season errands. If only there was a way you could "wake him up".

Tags: Husband!Sebastian, Smut, established relationship, detailed descriptions of sex, a dash of fluff. NSFW Tags below the cut.

Word Count: 2,900 (I did it, a fic under 5,000 words lol) A/N: Fun Fact — this idea started as a non-SDV related adult animation concept I was in early development of. I unfortunately do not have a lot of time for animating things anymore, so it's definitely more feasible to write it down. PLUS, I just love quickly shooting these stories out — better spat out here than rotting in my brain!!

It was really fun to rewrite it to fit the Stardew Valley world; I think it just gives me so much more to work with. Especially when it comes to writing about the world in detail. (and I get to feed my Sebastian brainworms <33) Hope you enjoy the read xoxo

NSFW Tags: morning sex, foreplay (dry humping), some dirty talk (mostly teasing), oral (male receiving), overstimulation, creampie

"Seb? Seeeeebb, it's 6:40," you say softly with a gentle shake of his arm, "we gotta get going." Still unwilling to move from his comfortable spot on the bed, Sebastian stifles a sleepy groan in response. It's always been hard to wake him up — that's something you knew even before you married him. Working freelance comes with the blessing and curse of setting your own work schedule, which means late night cramming sessions are a normal occurrence. You don't really blame him for wanting to sleep in, but today, he promised to help you with your ever-growing list of morning chores.

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly brushing the dark strands off his cheek with the back of your fingers. He just looks so peaceful when he's asleep; it's really such a shame to wake him up like this. Especially when he wraps his arm around you to cuddle against your thigh. It's almost tempting to sink yourself back into his arms and shut the whole world away under the protection of your shared bed covers. Almost — but you know better than to underestimate your beginning-of-season errands. It doesn't help that you also agreed to host a family dinner with Robin and Demetrius this evening. So much to do, so little time. In hindsight, you wish you planned this all a little better.

With a little more force this time, you try to shake him awake. "Mmph… just a few more minutes…" he mumbles while releasing his arms from your thigh, now lying on his back. At least he's able to get a few words out. That's a good sign, you think to yourself. You head toward your bathroom, hoping that by the time you're done brushing your teeth he'll be sitting upright. Maybe.

A soft, cool breeze enters the small opening of your window as you pass through the hallway. It's remarkable how quickly the seasons change in the valley. From your view in the bathroom, you can catch a glimpse of your summer crops, now reduced to wilted clumps in the soil. You'll definitely need Seb's help with this today. You take a little extra time to brush your teeth and wash your face, trying to buy him time to get up. He's gotta be awake by now, right?

You're not surprised to see him still splayed on the bed, eyes just barely fluttering at the sound of your footsteps entering the room. "Seb, it's almost 7 now. I really need your help," you plead sweetly, hoping the cute tone you've adopted would prompt him to move with more haste. He just smiles and offers a curt, "Mhm," in response, eyes still shut. Wow, he's really out of it, huh? You might need to switch strategies.

If you married Sebastian knowing that he's not exactly a morning person, he should also count on the fact that you're always up for a little bit of mischief — because now, you've got a plan that's basically foolproof. Creeping up to the bed, you slowly plant a knee on each side of his body to gently straddle his lap. With your chest pressed against his, you place kisses on his face. "Sebby, come on" you whisper tenderly into his ear, "you can get up for me, can't you?" He lets out an amused huff out of his nose and wraps an arm around the small of your back. He's definitely more awake now, but perhaps a little more provocation will do the trick.

You kiss along his jaw down to the side of his neck, playing with the collar of his t-shirt with your fingers. His eyes lazily open when you stop, now meeting his gaze from where your cheek rests on his chest. "Morning, sleepyhead. Remember those errands I need help with?" you tease. He lovingly smirks at your remark, placing a hand on your head to gently stroke your hair.

"Mm… what time is it?" he asks in a raspy voice. You answer his question with a light pinch of his cheek,

"Probably seven, by now. We're running a little late, y'know?"

The fact that 7AM is considered late to you is something he's still getting used to. If left to his own devices, he'd absolutely sleep the day away and have his breakfast at 3PM. Yet, he tries his best to slip into your daily schedule because that'd mean he'd get more time to see your face throughout the day, wouldn't it? But you know what they say, old habits die hard, and right now his old habits have him basically glued to the bed.

"What are the chances I can convince you to push these errands to tomorrow?" he asks cheekily.

"Hm… slim to none," you reply. "With the dinner party today and the fair coming up in a few weeks, it's gonna be really tough to–" You notice his eyes droop as you speak. "Seb?" He startles awake at the sudden call of his name.

"M' sorry, babe. Promise I'm not doing it on purpose," Sebastian rubs his eyes and yawns. "It's just... hard to stay awake."

With a smile, you shake your head and sigh, "what am I gonna do with you?"

"Hm…I don't know. What are you going to do with me?" He places his hands onto your back again, looking down at you with a suggestive smirk.

Leaning in closer to his face, just barely grazing your mouth over his, you whisper, "I might have a few ideas."

Placing your hands around his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw, you pull him closer into a deep kiss. He tightens the grip around your waist in response, pulling you closer toward him. God, if he wasn't awake a few minutes ago, he definitely is waking up now. He takes your mouth into his, enveloping your lips entirely and gently brushing them with his tongue. You can feel your pulse quickening as your breasts press firmly against him; an urge slowly building and itching at you from below. Unable to contain yourself, you lower your hips to grind against the thick bulge beneath you. You can't help but smile at how hard he already is; grinning against his tongue.

You pull away to shift your weight onto his clothed cock, gasping at how it rubs against you. "At least one part of you is up," you jeer, rocking slow movements against his length. He muses at your words and brushes his hair away from his face, granting him a better view of your body on top of his.

"Can you blame me?" he smiles, his sleepy eyes scanning your form. Running thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt, he gingerly lifts up the fabric to reveal your bare chest steadily bouncing at the rhythm your clothed pussy rubs against him. "Fuck me," he gasps breathily, "what a way to wake up."

His exasperation makes you laugh, motivating you to grind your hips with more fervour. "I'm glad this is working," you admit, "because we have just– so much– to do…" Your words are broken up with every sway of your hips. He pulls your shirt off your arms as you continuously pleasure yourself with his dick, moaning and creating a wet spot on his boxers. He just watches as you use him, in absolute awe by how your body reacts to his. His head slowly falls backward onto the pillow, closing his eyes to take in the stimulation. Then suddenly, you stop.

His eyes dart open again at your weight being lifted off his lap, ready to pull you back onto him. You move his hands away and lower your face to his lap. "Nuh uh. You gotta wake up," you chastise before pulling down his boxers. He groans breathily when his thick cock springs free, smacking his toned stomach from the speed of your movements. Without warning, you spit on his tip and run your palm against his shaft, causing him to tense at the sudden sensation. For a while, he can only stare at you with furrowed brows and complete admiration.

"I should sleep in more often," he teases while grinning at his own remark. But soon his sly grin is replaced by a strained grit because you wrap your fingers around his fat length, stroking him at an unfair pace. He perches himself up by the elbows, watching you fist his cock from base to tip. "Fuck, baby. You gotta slow down or ill–" You lower yourself to lick his balls, dragging your way up the shaft.

"Can't, Sebby," you say, stopping at the tip. "Can't have you falling asleep on me." Taking his length in your hand, you guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head.

He instinctually places his hands on the top of your head as he throws back his own. The bed gently shakes at the bobbing of your head, catching and swallowing his length into your throat. It's all so sudden; so frustratingly sexy that he can hardly take it. With the hand that grips at your hair, he tries to pry you off him — hoping to gain some reprieve. But this only invites you to suck on him with more excitement. It's just too hard to resist when he praises you in his gravelly, morning voice. "Holy fuck, babe. You're too good at tha–" You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth as he pushes you away from him; he must be close.

With a gentle tug of your hair, you give in and pull away. You and Sebastian heave heavily, the latter trying to regain his composure. He's usually the one to make you melt underneath him, so you can't help but marvel at his flustered expression. "You awake now?" you triumph with a mischievous smile. He picks himself up to stare into you; the look in his eyes tell you that you're in for it now.

Releasing his grip, he sits himself upright and leans toward you. "Hm, yeah. I think I am," he says while returning your expression, "turn around."

Without a question, you turn yourself around, resting your chest on the bed while lifting your ass toward him. You wiggle your hips tauntingly in his direction until you're greeted by a firm smack — a small yelp escapes your lips from the impact. "So impatient," he chides while soothing the sting with his palm, "well, you got what you wanted. I'm up." He slaps your ass again before leaning behind you, pressing his chest to your back to whisper into your ear, "unless…there's something else you wanted."

Just the sound of his condescending tone sends shivers down your spine, and he knows it. He hooks a finger by your dripping slit and tugs at your underwear, causing the fabric to bundle tightly against your clit. All semblances of your mischief has disappeared, vanished with his scolding and now you're moaning his name into the covers. You can tell he's enjoying every lewd noise you make, because now he's tugging at your panties harder, trying to elicit a bigger reaction.

"Well, now that I'm awake, let's go over our to-do list, hm?" He releases your underwear, only to slip his cock beneath the fabric and vigorously rub your clit.

"Seb… I can't–" you plead, eager to feel him plunge inside you. He places his hands on your waist, stroking soothing circles with his thumbs against your back.

"Don't worry, baby. You'll get it, after we go through the list. Okay?" he coos.

Stumbling your words in between moans, you begin listing the day's tasks. "W-we… need to clear off the crops…and prepare the fields."

"Mhm," he hums while wetting his tip along your slit. "What's next?"

"Clear off the weeds in front of the b-baaaarn–" You words shake as he teases your entrance with his tip, gliding it to catch your slick. "Then go to Pierre's… to pick up ingredients for tonight." Your legs quiver as he prods your wet cunt, not fully entering.

"Is there…anything else?" Sebastian meaninglessly asks, his own voice getting shaky in anticipation. He doesn't really care what's on the to-do list, not at the moment at least. No doubt he'll have to ask about it later, because all he cares about now is making you beg to be railed.

"We might also need to–" This time, he slowly pushes his cock through your wet folds, slipping himself inch by inch into your cunt until his thighs are flush against you. His size fills you entirely, stopping any words from escaping your mouth.

He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your pussy clench around him, still gritting his teeth to continue, "We might need to what? I didn't… catch the last part." He nearly pulls himself out entirely while waiting for your response.

"We…might need to–" You breathe in heavily while his dick pulses inside you. "Seb, please," you beg in a petulant tone. Your cries are so needy and desperate, but you don't care. There's no pride between you two, only true love and the aching desire to be fucked. Lucky for you, the feeling is mutual. Deciding he's equally impatient, he fucks his full length back into you.

"I think I get the gist," he says with a satisfied smile before plunging himself in and out of your cunt. He so badly wants to praise how well you took his teasing, but he's almost completely breathless. Lost for words at how tight you are, how well your pretty pussy takes him, and utterly smitten by the way you moan his name between thrusts. He wants to pound more of them out of you — a reminder to everyone in town that you've chosen him and he's the one fucking you the way you deserve.

Really, this is just one of the many moments he's reminded just how lucky he is. He feels so lucky that you decided to move to this boring town. So lucky that you stuck around despite his icy exterior, and miraculously lucky that you fell in love with him. Now he gets to wake up beside you everyday, fuck you like no one else can, and navigate life's mundanities with the person he loves. Morning errands be damned; nothing ever feels like a chore now that you're his.

He pounds you harder now — as if he's trying to bury his intentions deep inside you so you can feel his gratitude. Because even all his sly remarks and bullied thrusts are just another way of praising you; another way to tell you he loves you without saying it out loud. Your pussy clenches down on him so tightly, grasping onto his praises like your life depended on it. Ready to cum all over his cock to confirm that you feel the same. But even if your cunt wasn't being obvious, your words certainly were.

"Seb– it feels so. Fucking. Good," you whine in between thrusts. You try to warn him of your impending burst, but the arch of your back signals your orgasm much faster than you can speak. Backing your ass further into him, you accept his length against your cervix until you feel your release. You convulse around him, whispering thank you's under your breath. The only sound reaching his ears are your muffled cries of pleasure and the squeaking of the bed. He fucks you through your orgasm, but even after you come down from the high, he's still not done.

He rails your stimulated pussy over and over again, causing you to reach out your hand behind you to slow him down. "S-sebastian, I just came. Slower, it's so f-fast"

Grabbing your arm by the wrist, he plows deeper into you. "Sorry, baby. Can't," he says breathily, "We got too much to do today, remember?" You turn your head back to look over your shoulder and flash him a blissed-out smile, silently laughing at his twist of your words.

Reaching around to your front, he rubs circles around your puffy clit while he fucks his last few, sloppy blows inside you. "So close, babe. M'so fucking…close" he says with gritted teeth. His movements on your bud stokes the fire within you, threatening to shatter you once again. With one last buck of his hips against yours, he shoots his load deep inside your pussy, filling you to the brim with in white. He groans profanities as he sputters small thrusts into you. The warmth of his semen hitting against you is the last straw, sending you into your second orgasm of the day.

Dropping your wrist from his grip, he leans forward onto your back, pulling out slightly causing his cum to spill out of you. You breathe in unison, heavily and laboured as you try to regain your bearings. Maybe it's been ten minutes or maybe it was an hour, but you both lay beside each other, unbothered by the time that's passing you by.

When you both come down to your senses, your eyes lock onto his and suddenly you're both chuckling at the morning's happenings. With a bright-eyed smile, he takes your palm to rest on his cheek. Placing a kiss on your knuckles, he greets you to start the day.

"Good morning, honey."

[holdmytesseract]

Time To Get A Grip [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After returning home from a nightshift and finding your boyfriend stoned on the sofa, you lose it. Given the fact that he becomes a father soon, it's time for him to finally get a grip.

Warnings: Major trigger warning here! swear words, mentions of alcohol, drugs and smoking, drug consumption, pregnancy things, drama, a fight, angst, bit of blood, fluff, age gap

Gotta rate this story 18+, just in case!

Pre-Apocalypse Era!

Word Count: 3,2k

a/n: You chose and I am here to deliver! 😁 Well... I had this idea - and wrote it. It fitted perfectly into Daryl's, Y/N's and Teddy's story, so... But it's also quite a bit heavy. I never wrote something like this before.

Special thanks to @fictive-sl0th for encouraging me and loving my Daryl fics! Love ya, friend! 💕

Also, I apologise to all the Merle fans. Sorry, guys! 🙈

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute @eddiemunsonsupremecy @mrbrownstne

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Releasing a big yawn; you closed the locker with the number thirteen painted on, and slipped the key - which was attached to a key ring, inside the pocket of your jeans. With a sigh you grabbed your bag and made your way towards the exit of the changing room. "By girls, see you on Monday!" You said goodbye to your coworkers; smiling. They bid their goodbyes as well; waving and smiling.

Taking a deep breath, you left the room and the big building behind yourself and stepped out on the streets of Gainesville; the bright morning sun almost blinding you.

Working as a nurse in a hospital wasn't always easy. Especially the night shift. But working as a nurse in a hospital at night, being almost eighteen weeks pregnant was even less easy - and so very exhausting. As soon as I'm five months in, I'm quitting this shit, you told yourself. Only day shifts from then on. The thing was, you told yourself that already from the start. From the very day you found out you were pregnant. It was a lie which repeated itself month after month. You knew that it wasn't good to work night shift after night shift. Not for you, nor for the baby. But you practically had no other chance. Being alive was expensive. Food was expensive. Having a roof over your head was expensive. Even if it was just a small apartment in one of the endless, old and quite ragged apartment blocks in downtown Gainesville. It was even more expensive, when you are the only one earning the needed money. And soon, you were going to have not only two mouths to feed, but three. Every day you hoped for a change to come - but it wasn't easy. Oh no.

You shook your head slightly and took another deep breath, in order to get yourself out of your thoughts and your sleepy brain to focus.

After you checked your surroundings, you crossed the front yard of the hospital and made your way to the bus station. All you wanted to do now was going home, crash on your bed and sleep at least until late afternoon. Your body wanted that as well. You knew that, of course. Hence, you had almost slept in on the bus and missed your stop! Luckily, your hazy brain reminded you to stand up in the last second.

Waiting until the bus rolled past you, you crossed the street and walked the last meters to the building in which your apartment was. It was just a few blocks down the road. At least the weather is nice today, you thought; looking up into the sky.

You unlocked the old main door, which led into the big staircase and started to climb the steps, leading up to the third floor. On your way, you met a familiar face - unfortunately. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Jefferson."

Elsie Jefferson. The typical, critical bitter old lady next door, who everybody knew. Husband long dead and owner of at least ten cats. She was utterly nosy and curious about anything and everything. You couldn't stand her since the day she decided to interfere in your affairs. It was your life, not hers - but Mrs. Jefferson didn't care of course. And sometimes, you had the feeling that she did this all on purpose, because she liked you just as little.

"Ah, good morning, Y/N." She had just left her apartment; wearing those old slippers she always wore. A trash bag was in her hand. Apparently, she was just on her way to take out the trash - and you had the perfect timing to run straight into her. Great.

"Coming home from a night shift?" "Mhm, yep." You had absolutely no intention to talk to her, but you also couldn't be so rude to just walk away. The older woman shook her head. "Young lady, young lady... You should stop doing that. Now that you are pregnant." Not that again. "I know, but it's my decision. I'm okay with it. I'm used to it." Mrs. Jefferson shook her head again; rebukingly. You already wanted to walk past her; thinking that the conversation was over - but for her, it wasn't. You should've known. "Does your chaotic mess of a boyfriend still has no job?" You clenched your jaw. You hated it - absolutely hated it, when she brought Daryl up in those stupid conversations. All she wanted was to sting you and throw mud at him - just because he was how he was.

Gritting your jaw, you tried to smile at her. "He's at it." You didn't reveal more. While should you? "So no." She concluded, before stepping closer to you. "Chit... You should get rid of him." "I don't think so, ma'am. He's the father of my child." You tried to argue, but Mrs. Jefferson didn't even listen to you, just continued to speak ill of Daryl. "That man is not good for you and brings nothing but trouble. Just look at his messed-up family! His abusive, alcoholic father! His mother, who was a chain-smoker! And don't get me even started on his brother! Violence, alcohol, drugs... Wasn't he even in the prison only a few years back?" She exclaimed. "Daryl Dixon is toxic, Y/N - and way too old for you... Do you really think he's better than the rest of his family? Do you really think he can change? Turn into a better person?"

Hearing all those foul and judgemental words leaving the older lady's mouth, caused anger and sadness to flow your veins. How dare she? How dare? You had a hard time to keep yourself calm and not snap at her. The raging pregnancy hormones within your body didn't quite help the situation. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath. "Yes, I believe exactly that. I love this man - and that's all that matters. Have a nice day, Mrs. Jefferson." With those words you walked past her; continuing to climb the stairs. But of course, she had one more bombshell to drop on you... "You should've never let him get yourself pregnant. Dixon isn't made to be a father." You ignored her and moved on; mumbling under your breath: "That's what mum said as well..."

You tried to calm yourself down on the rest of the way and erase what just happened from your memories. You didn't have the nerves to deal with that woman. Not today. Not after an exhausting night shift and three times of throwing up in the staff toilets - no.

You climbed the last few steps and headed straight for the quite rickety door, which led into yours - and somehow Daryl's apartment.

Relieved, you closed the door behind yourself. Finally at home. Thank god. Throwing your keys on the small shelf beside the main door, you took off your shoes and jacket. You didn't anticipated Daryl to be home. Not after he had told you Wednesday morning, that he'd go out with his brother. You knew exactly what 'go out' meant. But who were you to stop him? God knows you had tried. Several times. But well... Blood is thicker than water.

Given that fact, you were quite surprised, when you found him in the living room; passed out onto the couch. A smile crossed your face; knowing that he was here - but it faded quickly, when you noticed the condition he was in. Daryl was laying on his stomach; one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa. One sleeve of his yellow-black checkered shirt was ripped off, while the other was still intact. When you squatted down beside him, a wave of cold smoke hit you; coming undoubtedly from his clothes. Daryl's breathing was heavy; sweat dotted his face and presumably his whole body as you noticed further. Some dried, crusty blood was smeared across the skin underneath his nose - and you knew. You knew. You weren't blind. And a nurse. You could tell when somebody was stoned - or well, had been stoned.

It didn't happen often - luckily. It was already enough that Merle made him to consume alcohol way too often. Making him to take drugs was an entirely different story. And you hated Merle for it. Yes, he was strictly spoken family, but the impact he had on his little brother was way too big. The worst part of it was, that Daryl didn't even defend himself.

Seeing your boyfriend in this condition caused the anger, sadness and frustration you had just swallowed down to come up again. Twice as hard. You stood up and crossed your arms; looking down on him.

"Daryl. Wake up." No reaction. "Daryl." You nudged him softly with your knee, earning a low growl. Like already said... You didn't have the nerves to deal with shit like that today. "Daryl fucking Dixon!" You yelled then, causing the man to flinch and immediately wake up. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh?!" He groaned again and moved to sit up; pinching the bridge of his nose. His sweat soaked shirt on full display; short blonde-brown hair as messed up as it could be. "What'd ya mean, hon?" He slurred; still trying to wake up properly. "Oh no no, don't pull that card, Daryl. Don't 'hon' me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

Your boyfriend rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, before reddened eyes looked up to meet your Y/E/C ones. "Merle, uh, Merle's got this new, uh, dealer and-" "Forced you to try the 'good stuff', I know." You finished his sentence. "What was it." He didn't answer, just looked at the ground. "That wasn't a question, Daryl. It was a demand. Tell me." He still didn't talk. You stepped closer and rather harshly pushed his left shoulder. "Tell me! What did you snort?!" Daryl swallowed visibly; once again avoiding eye contact. "Jus' a bit Crystal Meth."

You gasped audibly; jaw dropping. "Crystal Meth? Crystal Meth?! Fucking hell, Daryl! That's one of the most dangerous drugs!" Sure, he wasn't stoned anymore, but undoubtedly dealing with the aftermath. And the drug caused his already quite short fuse to be even shorter. He was more irritable. You noticed. Therefore, he was quickly losing it. "Goddamn, woman! Calm down! It was jus' a little bit! I won't do it again!" He snapped - and you swallowed hard; already needing to suppress the tears. The drugs influenced Daryl and the hormones influenced you.

"I don't care if it was just a tiny bit! I don't care if you say you won't do it again, because you always break this promise! You'll do it again - and we both know it! You'll drink again. You'll smoke again. You'll toke again - and you'll take drugs again. Merle is bad for you! When do you finally realise that?!" "Nah, he's family, Y/N! He's the only one I got left!" You shook your head. He didn't even listen to a word you just said, did he? "That may be true, yes! But he's so far off track - and he's dragging you right with him! You could be so much, more, Daryl... But for that, you need to finally break free!" Your boyfriend clenched his hands into fists; was visibly angered as well. "I won't jus' leave Merle! Ya can't ask me to do tha'!" You frustratingly rolled your eyes. He really didn't understand. "I am not asking you to leave your brother! I told you again and again... I'm asking you to keep a healthy distance! Separate your life and his life! Stop acting so headless!" "'M not actin' headless!" You laughed almost maniacally at his ridiculous words. "Oh hell yes, you do! And you know it! Stop this! I need you to quit acting this way, because-" The anger coursing through your veins got suddenly replaced by fear and desperation.

"'Cause wha'?! Huh?! 'Cause what?!" Daryl's already not properly thinking brain thought even less logical as he spat out that question. "I don't know if it already slipped your notice, but..." You pulled the baggy t-shirt you wore aggressively down, causing the visible outlines of your baby bump to appear. "I'm fucking pregnant, Daryl! With your kid! You're going to be a father in not even six months! Do you even know what that means?! A child comes with great responsibilities! We are talking about a human being we need to look after! A baby isn't like a dog or a cat! I can't have you hanging somewhere around, drunk or stoned! That's reckless - and I thought you were aware of that. Apparently, I was wrong."

Daryl was unfortunately way too deep in his rage to understand. All he saw was red. Literally jumping up from the couch - his symptoms of the drug consumption forgotten for a moment, he took a few threatening steps closer, until he was hovering dangerously over you. "Well... Guess ya shoulda have listened to yer parents, girl... 'N dump me when ya still had the chance to. I told ya from the very beginnin' that this wouldn't work out. Us. This relationship was meant ta fail... But now's too late. Like ya said... Already knocked ya up with that bastard child."

You and Daryl had already quite a few fights in your relationship. That was normal and common. Hurtful and ugly words were sometimes exchanged - but he had never said something like this. It really hurt you. Deep. Despite the fact, that you knew that he probably didn't mean what he had just said. You knew that he was actually happy about this baby. Scared to death, but happy. But it hurt. So freaking much.

You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted - and yet sleep didn't find you. You laid awake, hour after hour; thinking about what had happened - and the possible consequences of it. Your brain just couldn't shut up and so you spent the rest of the day and even night with just staring at the wall or ceiling and crying. Sure, you could sleep a few hours, but it was not peaceful and certainly not restful. Anyways... It was way too less sleep, given the fact that you had a night shift behind yourself and were pregnant. Needless to say, you couldn't be any happier about the fact that Sunday was your day off.

You just stared at him, while tears started to trickle down your cheeks. "Go." Your voice was merely above a whisper, but your eyes told Daryl enough to realise, what he had just done. "Y/N, I-" "Leave." "Y/N-" "I told you to go!" You yelled, pushing him away from you. "Get out of my sight, before I do something I might regret!" Daryl grunted and ripped the other sleeve of his shirt off, before he walked to the door; "Fine! If ya want me ta go, I'll go!" and slammed it shut behind himself. Mere seconds later, you broke down crying.

In the early morning hours, you heard the sound of your doorbell ringing. Cursing under your breath, you stood up and walked to the door. You had just been on the verge of dozing off again...

You already suspected that it was Mrs. Jefferson, one of your neighbours - or hence, even the postman, but you certainly didn't expect Daryl to stand in front of your door. Honestly, you expected anyone, but him. He never came back that fast after a fight. Never.

Well... Until now.

"Daryl?" You asked; totally stunned and also a bit confused. "What are you doing here?" He had both his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slightly ripped, grey jeans. A fresh tank top covered his body; not that ragged shirt anymore - and he had visibly showered. The man leaned against the door frame; biting his bottom lip nervously - a habit.

"I really fucked it up, didn't I?" "Yes. Yes, you did," you confirmed without even blinking. Daryl swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "'M sorry." You looked him in the eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "You always say that. I always believe you. And you always fuck it up again." You paused; trying to find the right words. "I love you, Daryl - but honestly, I don't know how long I am able to play this game."  He swallowed hard; the harsh realisation of the possibility to lose you - and with that his child hitting him full force. "Y/N, I... I know. 'M an asshole. Always was. Most likely always going ta be. I don deserve you. And certainly not yer love - but please... Give me one last chance. Us." He sighed; desperately. Words weren't his strengths. "Fuck's sake, I can't live without ya. I need ya. You know that."

Now you were the one who had to swallow hard. Tears stung in your eyes; as you tried to figure out what to say. Yes, you were still angry at him for what he did - for what he said, but on the other hand... You loved this idiot so fucking much. Perhaps even too much for your own good. Not that you cared, though.

"Yes. And I need you, Daryl..." Your raging hormones caused your walls to break. "You're all I've got. I chose you above my family. I gave up my entire life for you. Please don't let this be for nothing. Please hold your promise this time." You choked out; tears staining the fabric of your sleep shirt. "Look for a job; get some distance between your life and Merle's life - and, for our child's sake, get a grip. There's not much time left for you to turn the tide." You took a shaky breath and cupped your baby bump. "I can't do this without you..."

Daryl nodded; his expression soft and full of love - and regret. "I know. I know." He stepped inside your apartment; closed the door and approached you, before he shyly - almost hesitantly placed his bigger hands on top of yours. "'M sorry. 'M so sorry. For what I did - 'n especially for what I said. I didn't mean it. I love that kid. Ya know I do. 'N I promise I'll try ta be a better man. For you and the baby."

You only nodded; unable to speak because of all the tears you shed. He leaned forward; pressed a kiss onto your forehead - and that was the moment you entirely caved. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged his body. Daryl accepted the hug, of course; placed both his hands on your hips and held you.

After a while, Daryl bent his knees and quickly swept you off your feet - much to your surprise, before he carried you into your bedroom. He set you down on the bed, quickly stripped off his top and jeans and joined you; wrapping you up in the tightest snuggle possible. It was almost like he sensed how tired and worn out you were. "Sleep, hon. 'M here. I won't go anywhere." You smiled tiredly up at him and couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. So, you did. "I love you." "I love ya, too."

[25centsoda]

DinLuke Fic in honor of AO3 Down

Chapter 1 of my five-chapter wip (currently getting my ass kicked by chapter 3) to feed the starving masses on this terrible day of AO3 Down. Fic and summary subject to change by the time I finish, edit, and finally post it. Fair warning this chap is 9 pages on my google doc.

Summary: After rescuing Grogu, Din retired to a quiet life as a lighthouse keeper with his son. Unfortunately, his life is determined to be anything but quiet.

Tags: Mermaid au, DinLuke, Din Djarin, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, Cara Dune, Moff Gideon, Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine, Little Mermaid-ish, fantasy au, modern au, AAC, autistic Grogu, nonspeaking Grogu, Din was a hitman

EDIT: AUGH apparently AO3 came back up while I was posting. Was supposed to be down for 3 more hours...smh. Anyways, enjoy ig!

There was a merman lying on the rocky beach, above the tidal line, not twenty feet away.

Din rubbed his eyes. Blinked. The merman was still there.

He turned around.

Turned back.

Still there.

His gaze drifted up to the clouds as he thought, mind churning like stormy waves. Had he had breakfast that morning? Or water? Dehydration did things to the brain, right? Maybe the kid had kept him up too late and he was dreaming…

A rock landed very near his foot. He looked down.

The merman was waving to him. Propped up on one pale arm, with blue…gills? Fins? Waving merrily just behind his ears. There were more fins along the back of each arm. He was smiling and mouthing something, but no sound was coming out.

Din better not be hallucinating.

He picked his way across the rocks and stopped in front of the…fish. Man. Gods above, there were scales on this man’s bare stomach, and just below his belly button the skin faded entirely into blue scales, and his lower half was…

The merman flapped his tail, silently laughing. It slapped the ground with a wet sound.

Din could only stare.

The merman waved his hand, bringing Din’s attention back to his face, which was unfairly beautiful, a fact that Din elected to ignore. He began signing animatedly and mouthing something, but it wasn’t any sign language Din knew, and he’d never been great at reading lips.

Din shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

The merman stopped signing with a huff. He bit his lip, looking around. There wasn’t much to see. This beach was isolated—that’s why Din had chosen it. There was nothing around except for chunks of pale rocks in varying sizes, the water, and, distantly, grassy dunes. And the lighthouse Din was paid to keep.

“Hold on,” Din said. He got several steps away before another thrown rock reminded him to say, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something that will help.”

It was a long walk back to the lighthouse, but it was a walk he made every other day, to ensure that nothing weird or dangerous had washed up. And it was a good thing, too, because evidently something had washed up. Or…someone? Din wasn’t really sure how to refer to a literal merman. He still wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing.

Grogu was waiting at the door for him, one little hand holding the doorframe as he leaned out of it, waving his device. “Ba!” he shouted. His black hair fell into his face—Din needed to cut it soon—as he looked down to make selections. As Din neared, the device read out, “Dad where go? Why back soon?”

Din tousled his son’s hair. “Just came back to grab something real quick, buddy. I’ve gotta go out again.”

Grogu tilted his head in question.

Din passed him, entering the kitchen. “I don’t know what I’ve found. Somebody that needs help, I think.”

.

.

.

Din made his way back to the beach. The merman was still there. Din wished he had thought to grab himself a bottle of water, or a snack or something, but the fact that the man was still there boded well for Din’s mental faculties, if not for the logic of the universe.

“Can you read English? D’you even know English? Do you know what I’m saying?”

Din felt stupid, talking to some hallucination-man-fish-thing, but the man nodded, so Din took that as a yes.

“Okay. Uh, well I have this.” He held out the communication board that he had brought. It was laminated—they all were, so that they would last longer—so it wouldn’t be bothered by the fact that the man reaching out a hand to take it was still dripping wet. Din had grabbed the hospital board rather than any of the core boards or fringe vocabularies, thinking that it would be the most useful. It wasn’t like Grogu already had a single-page board for mermaid trapped on the beach, and Din figured that the man was likely to be injured or hurting in some way, being so far up on the rocks. “Point to whatever you want to say.”

The merman examined the green board with interest, front and back. He seemed to read every icon carefully. The back had the alphabet and “YES”/”NO” along the bottom, a section labeled “I WANT”, a section labeled “I AM”, “I WANT TO SEE”, and a section containing icons for yes, no, thank you, stop, pen/paper. The front had pictures of a blank, uncolored body showing the front and back view with a pain scale in the middle, and icons describing different types of pain like itches, stings, can’t move. Along the sides of the front were requests for items, bathroom, and like that, don’t like, repeat that, speak louder.

After a while, Din said, “Well? Are you, uh, injured, or anything?”

The man scanned the board again, and finally pointed to the image of a glass labeled Water. As he did so, Din noticed that his fingers were webbed halfway together, with shimmering blue, nearly-transparent webbing. He looked up at Din.

“Right. Right.” Din found himself swinging his arms as he looked around the beach. He forced himself to stop. “I can. Uh.” How heavy could a fish-man be? Probably very heavy. Still—“I can bring you back to the ocean?”

The merman shook his head vehemently, eyes wide. Din noticed for the first time that they were blue, like the man’s fins. The man pointed to the red icon labeled NO over and over.

Din held up a placating hand. “Okay, okay. No ocean. Got it.” He didn’t understand in the slightest, but the message was clear. “What if I bring up a bucket?”

The man nodded.

Din…didn’t have a bucket on him. Luckily, there was a storage shed not too far from here—there was a dock about half a mile back. Once he had a bucket and filled it with water, he hesitated.

“Do you want me to just—” Din made a motion like he was going to throw the water on him.

The man gestured for the bucket. Din handed it over. The man dipped his hand in and splashed the water on the fins sticking out of his head.

Huh. Maybe those were his gills, or…something. Din didn’t exactly know that much about fish biology. Mostly what he knew about was killing. And, slowly, how to care for a nonspeaking toddler.

“Are you lost? Are you, uh, hungry?”

The man pointed to Thank you. 

Din was suddenly seized with the urge to know—”What’s your name? If—if you can spell it.” If a merman knew English, he could spell his name in English, right? Or would it be all clicks and whistles, like a dolphin?

He watched as the man spelled L—U—K—E.

“Luke.”

A nod and a smile.

“Luke,” Din said again, and wasn’t it enough that the man had an unfairly attractive face and, if he was already admitting things to himself anyway, body? Did he have to have a name that moved in Din’s mouth like that?

N—A—M—E—?

“What?”

Luke spelled it out again.

“Oh, my name.” Gods, Din was an idiot. “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Din. Luke mouthed the name, smiling. Din felt like he was going to combust.

“Uh, if you’re not going to go back in the ocean…” Din paused again. Luke shook his head wildly, almost unbalancing himself. Din forged on. “...would you like to come to my house? I have a bathtub I can fill with salt water for you; it’s probably more comfortable than these rocks.”

Luke pointed to Yes.

“Okay, great.”

It was quite the job getting Luke to his house. He’d thought he was pretty strong, but they had to take several breaks for Din to catch his breath. The merman was slimy in his arms, his scales rough. Luke held on to the (emptied) bucket and the hospital communication board. By the time they got back to the house, the sun was beginning to set, Din’s arms and shirt were rubbed raw, and Grogu was angry—at least, he was until he saw what Din had in his arms.

Grogu squealed. His device read out, “Mermaid! Mermaid! Mermaid!” He did a little dance, flapping his arms and twirling excitedly in the doorway.

��Move, kid,” Din grit out, muscles shaking. Luke waved from his arms.

Grogu got out of the way and Din made it all the way into the bathroom before he had to set Luke down again lest he drop him. Luke shivered on the cold tile. Din had to reach over him to turn on the tap. Grogu waited in the doorway, watching.

“Oh—sorry, do you need salt water?”

Luke pointed to Yes, his hands shaking. His golden-blond hair was drying now, into thick waves around his gills. Some of the blue spots on his skin were turning colorless, as well, which probably wasn’t great.

“Kid, stay with him a minute, I’m gonna get salt water.” Din pulled the drain open and stood, shaking off the water.

More buckets. More trips back and forth to the shore. It took more than Din had thought to fill up the bathtub. Luke splashed himself every so often as he waited. Grogu had brought in the whole folder of laminated communication boards, and pulled down the laminated booklet on a hook from the bathtub, and he and Luke were engaged in a vibrant conversation that meant that Din had to watch where he stepped lest he slip.

Finally, the tub was full, and Din hauled Luke up one last time, and into the water. Luke slapped his tail excitedly, splashing water everywhere. Grogu squealed, raising his little hands up to the sky. Din was entranced by the water shining off Luke’s blue scales, the almost translucent…skin?...on the bottom fin, the rigid, darker blue spines that held it together.

An alarm shook Din out of his thoughts.

He stood. “I’ve got to make dinner and get everything set up for the night. Are you two good here?”

Luke held up a beach vocabulary board and pointed to Yes. Grogu squealed again, nodding vigorously.

“Try not to make too much of a mess,” Din said. He put two towels on the floor in front of the tub, which soaked up some of the water. He held back a sigh. Fighting mold was a constant battle, in a building so close to the ocean. Hopefully any mold-related damages wouldn’t get taken out of his paycheck, even if they were in the bathroom and therefore probably his fault.

Attending to his regular duties kept Din’s mind off the merman in his bathroom for a while. He stood outside long enough to get a sense of the weather, and reported it on the radio, then listened to the airwaves for a while to see if there were any nearby boaters that needed rescuing—an über-rare occurrence, on this island. He briefly entertained the idea of radioing in his “rescue” of Luke, but what would he say? “I found a merman”? Saying that would be a one-way ticket to a psych eval if not a hospital stay - in other words, losing this safe haven where he and his son lived. Besides, without the merman in front of him, the whole thing felt like a dream. A dream that left raw skin on his chest and arms. A dream he wouldn’t breathe a word about.

He walked around the perimeter of the lighthouse and the station house, noting down any damages that would need repair or repainting soon. Took inventory of foodstuffs—they were starting to run low, but a supply was due in a week, and they had the garden, as long as a storm didn’t take it out. Tended the garden—ripped out some kudzu that kept somehow finding its way onto this isolated island, squirted bugs off the rosemary with one of Grogu’s little water guns. Checked on the water filters, generators, and radio antenna. Luckily everything was in decent order in spite of a day of neglect.

The sun was well and truly set by the time that Din went back inside the station house and started making dinner—chicken fingers, Grogu’s favorite. After some hesitation, he threw some frozen fish sticks on the baking tray as well. Maybe Luke would eat them. Din hadn’t gone fishing in a few weeks; Grogu had had him working their way through a craft book Cara had brought them at the last supply drop, which didn’t leave a lot of time for much beyond his daily duties, time consuming as they were. If Luke wanted fresh fish, Din could go fishing tomorrow.

He stacked up three plates on his arms and brought them into the bathroom. Not a large bathroom to begin with, it was a crowded space between the adult, the kid, and the mermaid. Setting his own on the white marbled sink countertop, he handed a plate of chicken fingers and broccoli to Grogu and a plate of fish sticks to Luke.

“It’s fish,” he explained. “With breadcrumbs.” At Luke’s blank look, Din hastily explained, “Bread is, uh, it comes from grain, wheat, and so it’s kind of…like…well, it’s a carbohydrate. I dunno if you have those in…the ocean. Try it, and tell me if you can eat it, or if you need something else.” He sorted through Grogu’s communication boards scattered on the tile floor, and found one with ocean creatures, which he set on the rim of the bathtub.

Grogu turned his nose up at the broccoli with a huff.

“Come on, kid, you’ve gotta have vegetables.” Din was too tired to really argue the point tonight, but Grogu didn’t need to know that.

Luke reached one dripping hand out of the tub and pointed to the broccoli on Grogu’s plate, with an encouraging sort of Go on expression, nodding. The broccoli got a little damp at the touch of his pale finger. Din grimaced, sure that the salt water would ruin whatever little chance there was of getting the kid to eat his vegetables.

Grogu surprised him by digging in.

Din blinked.

Alright then. He’d keep slightly soggy in mind, on his list of ‘things that get Grogu to eat.’ Kids were mysterious creatures sometimes.

Din ate his own plate of chicken fingers and broccoli sitting on the closed toilet seat, watching the two of them interact. It was, of course, mostly silent, occasionally interspersed with one of Grogu’s noises like “ba!” Luke picked at his fishsticks (after scraping off the breading), Grogu picked at his chicken fingers. Their hands were pretty occupied with the boards. At this angle, he couldn’t see all that they pointed to, but he saw the fairytale board, ocean, and mythology. And home.

.

.

.

After they finished eating, Din cleared the plates, and let Grogu and Luke talk for another hour while he cleaned up and checked the weather again.

“Alright kid, bedtime.”

“Ba!” Grogu said angrily, his little face scrunched up. Din’s heart melted in spite of himself. 

“No, come on, it’s time for bed.”

Luke waved his hand for Grogu’s attention. Once he had it, he exaggeratedly stretched and yawned, then put his hands together and leaned his head against them, breathing big in, and out. If he was underwater, Din was sure that there would be enormous bubbles coming out of his mouth, adding to the effect.

Grogu giggled. Luke peeked with one eye and smiled, then went right back to it.

Din gathered up all the communication boards and knocked them up on the counter, making them into a neat stack. He grabbed Grogu’s hand.

“Come on, I’ll sing to you.”

Luke broke out of his acting and waved goodbye, flapping his hand.

“I’ll check on you before I go to bed,” Din promised over his shoulder. He left the door open a crack, so that Luke could hear them move around and know that he hadn’t been left in the house alone.

Luckily Grogu’s room had a bathroom attached to it, so he could still have a quick bath—the salt water he and Luke had been splashing in all evening didn’t count—and brush his teeth before bed. Din brushed his teeth beside Grogu, glad for once that he still kept his toothbrush on his nightstand instead of in the main bathroom, an old habit from more chaotic days.

Finally, Din got Grogu clean, dry, in pajamas, and tucked into bed with his favorite frog plushie.

Din knelt beside his bed with a groan, cursing old injuries and unstretched muscles. “Alright, kid, what do you want me to sing?”

Grogu made grabby hands for his device. Din pulled it off the charger and handed it over. Grogu navigated through the pages swiftly, before finally selecting, “Sun.”

“Alright.” Din cleared his throat, and began to sing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me hap-py, when skies are gray.”

Grogu snuggled down in his blankets, clutching his favorite Froggie close to his chest, watching Din with absolute love and trust in his eyes. It made Din’s heart clench. Stars, he loved this kid. He would move heaven and earth for him. He had, when he’d rescued him. Although really, it was Din that had been rescued that day.

He reached a hand out and caressed the soft brown hair atop Grogu’s head. “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take, my sun-shine a-way.” He kissed his son’s forehead. “You all ready for sleep, big guy?”

Grogu squealed softly.

“Alright.” Din pressed his forehead to Grogu’s one last time as he took his device and set it on the bedside table, and turned out the light. “If you need anything, just yell.”

He closed the door softly, leaving just a crack to let light through.

Luke was waiting in the bathroom, arms folded on the rim of the bathtub, his head resting on top. He perked up when Din came in, but not much.

“How’s your, uh, oxygen?”

Luke gave a thumbs up.

“Tired?”

Luke nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” His muscles were certainly sore from lugging all that water and the merperson. He needed to work out more, probably. As busy as this job kept him, it didn’t maintain his physical fitness the way he used to. He’d let himself get…soft, as Grogu’s dad.

“You good for the night? Need any fresh water?”

Luke shook his head. Thankfully. Din didn’t particularly want to go out in the pitch dark. It would be hard to hold a flashlight and a full bucket at the same time.

“Can you write?” At Luke’s nod, Din took out a weather resistant notepad and pen and set them on the rim of the bathtub beside Luke’s head. “We’re expecting a supply run in a day or so. If you need anything, or want anything, I can radio shore and have it delivered then.”

The merman perked up. Thank you!!! he wrote, with three exclamation marks. Din huffed a laugh.

Luke wrote, head bowed, for a while. Din watched his golden hair, long dried except around his…gills, bounce softly, reflecting the overhead light. It was mesmerizing, like watching light bounce off of water.

When Luke held up the notepad again, Din had to shake himself a little to refocus.

Salmon

Oysters

Something soft to lay on the side

Something I can help you with, as payment for taking me in

Din blinked. “I don’t need you to help me with anything.”

Luke’s gaze was pleading. No: Begging.

Din shook his head. “Really. Most of my job you can’t help me with anyway; unless you can repaint the lighthouse or pull weeds.”

Luke frowned, his lip stuck out. Din couldn’t help having a little thrill at the sight. It was adorable.

“Really! I guess I could…” He really thought about it. He supposed…that the counter could use a little basket for his keys. One of Grogu’s favorites from the craft book was basket-weaving. He could show Luke how to do it, and thus keep them both occupied, and Luke could feel useful. “Do you know how to weave baskets?”

Luke nodded eagerly.

“I’ll collect some materials for you from the wildflower garden tomorrow. Grogu can help.” Din broke off with a yawn. “I’ll tell our supplier to get the rest of it. Sleep well.”

Luke pointed at Din and mimed sleeping, with his head on his hands, then nodded as if to say You too.

Din smiled and turned to go. He paused in the doorway with his hand on the light switch.

“On or off?”

Luke tilted his head, brow furrowed. To demonstrate, Din flicked the lights off, then back on. Then again, saying out loud which was which.

“Thumbs up, on. Thumbs down, off.” He showed how to do it as he spoke. Luke gave a thumbs down. “Lights off it is,” he said, turning them off. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

He left the door cracked open again and made his way up the stairs, stifling a yawn.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the bathroom was empty in the morning. Weirder things had happened.

Although, if he was honest with himself—no, weirder things hadn’t happened. Sure, he’d had some odd jobs in his old life, but none of it had involved the supernatural. No, it was all kingpins and businessmen and whistleblowers, hackers, grifters, thieves, and the occasional unopened suitcase. Once, on his last job, a child. Never a merman.

Well, this made two that he’d kept instead of killed. Two that he’d saved.

He’d definitely gone soft.

But he found…he didn't mind it.

[foxyaries]

My Manifestations

Hi Again! Foxy here :)

Now keep in mind these aren't manifestations I have gotten YET but they have been my main focus throughout all these years that I've been part this community. I know a lot of you would rather hear about things I have actually manifested but the reason I'm gonna talk about them a bit is because these are the ones that actually kept me motivated despite my lack of results or current circumstances.

As for how my journey began? It was subliminals :) Probably as for most people in this community at first I didn't really understand it. I didn't try to look into it or understand it. Because of course as most people I assumed that it was just music. It's funny to think about it, knowing what I know now. It was a first limiting belief that I realized that I noticed I had. Since we were kids we were always conditioned to believe that we had to work hard to achieve things we want and success. But that's not true. And that's what I realized when one day subliminals came across my feed once again and I realized why not look into it? The more I read about it the more I realized that maybe it is possible. I mean we only use very small part of our brain so why wouldn't it be a possibility? Like I like to say "If there's an idea, there is a possibility of it being true". And that's how I discovered it.

What did I want to manifest first?

Unfortunately back then I was very insecure. And I'd brutally pick on any flaws I thought I had, so my first subliminals were appearance related. However at that time I also was very unhappy not just with my looks but also my life. Mainly my family. As some of you may relate I had (and still have but maybe not as much because I am older) very strict parents and especially because I am a girl it felt like my only goal in life was to study but going out and having fun with friends out of question. And it got especially worse because we had just moved to a different country and I needed to learn a new language and find new friends (you can imagine how that felt for my introvert incredibly social awkward self😂). And because of that reason alone one day I thought "If there are so many subliminals appearance related? I wonder if there's different kind". First thing that came up was "Wake up in desired family" subliminal. And you guys don't even understand. Back then our community was pretty small so all it had was maybe 15k views but at that time it looked like a lot. There were even that many comments or success stories because everyone were considerably new to the idea. But on this specific subliminal there were maybe 5 success stories. All very similar. One day they went to sleep, felt like they went flying and then woke up in their desired family. Again at that time I didn't really understand the concept but those 5 success stories made me so full of hope?? Each of those people said it took them like 2-3 months so that's the time I set for myself in my head too and guess what :) I indeed achieved certain crazy results I'm gonna talk about in a separate post.

Unfortunately for me... as I mentioned before I was insecure. So those couple months I was focusing on leaving and waking up in my desired life (again I didn't know much about the whole shifting idea or exactly what it was but maybe that's what helped :) The less we know the better). Aaaaand of course I got insecure and decided to start listening to appearances subliminals at the same time and that set some kind of mental block that I'm only now starting to get out of. I dont think me listening to those subliminals is what stopped me from getting any results. It was my mindset. However once I realized that it was too late and I had no motivation to restart the journey :( Such a shame now because I was so so close but it's okay now.

Before anyone asks I did try looking for that subliminal channel and those subliminals. Unfortunately I believe the whole account got deleted.

Now onto the 2nd thing. Once I realized my mistake I stopped listening to appearance subliminals and decided to try something else. I came up to a "Manifest a fairy" subliminal :) Yes, say what you want. Like I said "if there's an idea, there's a possibility". For all I care, unicorns could be real and I am open to it :). And yes, my fairy would have been and will be a wish granting fairy. I saw her as a solution to all of my problems. Not only mine but my best friends. And thanks to my best friend and her spiritual companion I was told that it would actually happen! That I'd one day see my fairy :). However, how soon it'd happen depended on me. It could have taken days, weeks, months or even years but it all depended on my mindset. And here we are 6 years later because I went through another dark episode of my life. But it's gonna happen soon I feel it! More about my best friend and future life time fairy friend on a separate post! Because yes, I had certain results even with that👀

I do hope someone will be interested in some of this cause this does boost my motivation somehow haha

That's all for now tho! I'll try to make a post later tonight about my tape results the other night! Next attempt is tonight😌 And whether anyone is interested or not I shall make another about my first insane shifting results too! 👀👋🏻

[whack-patty]

Why can't you fully animate your content instead of having it be still pictures so the fanon friendship between Buster and Suki can be canon?

Illumination keeps making careless, clumsy, cash-cow crap films with Despicable Me 4 being their latest example.

And the dynamic those two have would actually make a difference from Illumination's generic trope-following system, but the only way to do it animate them ourselves.

Seriously, this miserable universe needs it even with Meledandri being against the idea.

Alright, normally I'd ignore an ask like this but you managed to have some opinions about things that I've been studying/have been on the mind lately, so I'm gonna do a very simple run through of my responses here. Animation, the relationship between canon and fanon, the importance of creativity, stuff like that has been fun to analyze as I'm getting older and actually looking at how the entertainment industry works. My responses are still gonna be short because I'm tired today, but here's my thoughts anyway.

The following rant is both an answer to this question and a generalized thought process on...all this stuff. It's also meant kindly, so please switch your internal voice to Genuinely Well Meaning When I Say These Things and apply it to yourself as you will

((Also, on a more personal level, I know you're anonymous but I know who you are and I know you won't listen to me, so I'm asking you once to take my answer and then let it rest (in my dms/asks, at least). Take this as informative for your own future angry rants. Everyone else reading this, just enjoy yourself lol))

Q: "Why can't you just fully animate your content instead or having it be silly pictures"

A: Animation is not easy. It takes hundreds of workers to make a five minute segment of a movie, and not all of them are even animators--you have riggers, modlers, concept artists, writing teams, voice actors, etc. And while it is very possible to animate something alone, it takes an absurd amount of time, patience, skill, practice, and even budget.

Unfortunately, I am a whole human being with a whole life going on behind the screen. I've got more important things to tackle at the moment than dedicating hundreds of hours to a fandom that, frankly, I'm not all that invested in at the moment. I, personally, am a concept artist more than a finalist. I enjoy the process of coming up with stories and plugging together the pieces far more than finishing the product. This means that coming up with Sneep Snorp's comic carried me through a hard time when I needed it to, and dedicating hundreds of unpaid hours to a project that is unfulfilling would actually detract from my health and ability to live a functionable life.

If you would like to pay me to animate those two, I will gladly do so. I have bills to pay and a home to save up for, and will gladly animate anything you like for a fair working wage.

Any other content I make of those characters from my hand and mind will happen when I want it to. I like making silly pictures. That's what I do.

Q: "so the Suki and Buster friendship can be canon?"

A: even if it was as nice as I could possibly animate it, it would not be canon because I do not work for Illumination. Not even affiliated. I briefly had a thing with an indie studio and currently I flip quesedillas to buy food each week. It'd be fantastic content, but it would never be official unless someone from their end approved it.

However, your fulfillment coming from any fictional characters does not NEED the stamp of "canon" in order to be satisfying. Because, frankly, we'll never get exactly what we want from a studio that has an agenda and responsibility to fulfill. And that's perfectly fine. Make your own content and treat it as canon as you want. Be harmless, be creative, have fun. No amount of big CEO or publisher handing you what you want on a silver platter will ever itch the scratch in your brain. We've got to metaphorically feed ourselves--make what YOU want to exist exist. It'll be exactly what you want it to be because you'll be in control.

Q: "Illumination keeps making cash-cow crap films with Despicable Me 4 as their latest example."

A: That's what they're supposed to do. They're a big studio. They're an entertainment company trying to buy everyone's attention with nostalgia. Because Despicable Me is so generally well-liked, they're going to milk that cash cow until they can't anymore. Companies who have found a successful niche will do that. It happens in every company, not just entertainment.

Big entertainment studios are not artists the same way you and I are. Seldom few are creating passion projects, expressing genuine beliefs, or loving their characters the same way small artists do. When they make and publish movies and shows, they are making a product to sell. They will edit their product until it is as consumable by the most people as possible, or they will remake what they know the most people will buy again and again.

Q: "the dynamic those two would have would make a difference from Illumination's generic trope-following system"

Tropes are easy to digest. Every story has tropes. Every single one. You can alter them as much as you'd like, but they're still there. One of the reasons I enjoy SING as much as I do is because Buster Moon, the protagonist and instigator of the plot, is technically a villain trope, and it's RARE to see a character like him in the leading role of a cartoon franchise. SING itself is an unusual storytelling format, with its fragmented heroes journeys and large leading cast. That's cool! Illumination, however, will not be purposefully trying to break any boundaries bigger than that anytime soon. They need to sell to the general masses, and so they will do what works and occasionally tip toe outside of it as much as they need.

SING itself as a franchise, however, follows a formula. Every franchise does. Buster causes a problem because he has big dreams, everyone else grows for it, rinse and repeat. Other stories do the same. They are not going to explore the deep emotional depths behind every interaction, that's an INSIDE OUT franchise thing. They're not going to give Buster a love interest, that's another franchise's wheelhouse. Etc etc etc.

Q: "but the only way to do it is to animate it ourselves"

Yes! Absolutely! That's what fandom stuff is for! That's a community of people who enjoy a concept together and want to explore it to it's fullest!

However!

The fandom are very rarely the paid workers behind the scenes.

If you want something, either HELP somebody else make it, or make it yourself--but do not demand it.

Your contributions are wanted, no matter how clumbsy or unskillful you may worry they be. Create. I beg of you. We need people who CARE about things to create things they CARE about. Learn to draw silly pictures, learn to animate silly animations, learn to write silly stories. You'll have exactly what you want in your hands. Plus, if you're kind about it and share with others, you may inspire the people around you to create with you!

I, however, simply do not care about this topic. I like Buster, I like Suki. Sometimes I draw them. I have other things I like more. I have other things I'm more passionate about. That is where I will focus my energy. You focus your energy where you want it, and I will do the same with mine.

Q: "this miserable universe needs it even with Meledandri being against the idea."

No clue who/what Meledandri is, but yes, this miserable universe needs people who care about things and will make the stuff they care about. Do it. I dare you. Make something with all that fire and passion about the things you love. Nobody else is going to do it for you.

[naavispider]

Merciless - chapter 4

It's a short one so I've posted it under the cut, or here is the link to AO3 if you're the kind of lovely human who likes to leave comments 🥰 Sorry I'm a day late 💞💙💞💙

“Why are we here? Where is this?” Spider took a step closer to the glass, his body pumping with adrenaline. 

John Mercer smiled in that ugly way of his. In all of Spider’s life, he had never seen a smile as chilling as Mercer’s. 

“We are in a facility to the West of Bridgehead. Fifty cliques away from the city.”

Spider blanched - he couldn’t help himself. Fifty cliques? That was over a week away on foot. 

“I’m waiting for the why,” Spider stressed. 

“Welcome to Kinglor Base, Miles. This is a specialist facility built purely for scientific research. You may have seen some of our tech on the way in.”

“Research on what?” Spider hissed. A sinking feeling was making its way through his stomach, clenching his intestines in a tight, cold fist. 

Mercer looked at him like he couldn’t wait to answer. Like he was feeding off Spider’s fear. “On you.”

For a second, Spider was stunned. Then, slowly, he let out a low laugh. “Right. Okay,” he smirked, but inside his guts were churning with hot fear. 

“I would tell you not to worry, but I’d probably be lying. This is not an ideal situation for you, I understand that. But unfortunately for you, your body holds answers to some of humanity’s greatest questions. It is my job to ensure we educate ourselves.”

Spider was staring at Mercer as he tried to process this. He heard the words but his brain just couldn’t compute what Mercer was telling him. Eventually, he pulled himself together enough to respond. “What do you mean? My body? I’m human, just like you!”

Mercer appraised him with a pitying look in his eye, which sent chills down deep into Spider’s bones. The man shook his head slowly. “You’re adapted to Pandora in a way that nobody else is. You grew up here, surely you’ve noticed how different you are from others? How much… stronger.”

A rage of fury flashed through Spider's chest in that moment, and as if to prove Mercer’s point, he took an aggressive step forwards to meet the glass separating them and sank his fist into it with a snarl. Mercer watched his attempt to break the glass without raising an eyebrow. Unfortunately, Spider’s outburst had no effect whatsoever on the glass, creating only a low thud that echoed through both rooms. He clenched his fist again, cursing himself internally for the pain now radiating out from his knuckles. 

“I don’t expect you to understand, of course, but getting angry is not going to help. The best thing you can do is accept the situation and cooperate,” Mercer sniffed imperiously. “Not that it matters much to me.”

“You can’t keep me in here.”

Mercer frowned in a way that told Spider as clear as day that he wasn’t sympathetic in the slightest. “Sorry… But that’s exactly what I am doing.”

“Does Quaritch know about this?” Spider’s heart was racing a hundred miles an hour, making it difficult for him to hear anything other than his own blood pounding in his ears. He had to believe the answer was no. 

Mercer paused for a moment, as if deciding what to say. “That is none of your concern,” he settled on after a moment. 

“Mercer!” he shouted, though it came out as more of a snarl. 

Mercer simply shrugged. “You won’t be seeing him again. I’m not sure why you’re so concerned, to be honest.” He levelled Spider with a dangerous glint in those cold, grey eyes.

Spider’s shoulders were rising heavily. When had he got so out of breath? He could feel Mercer’s unspoken dare hanging in the air. With as much gusto as he could summon, he held Mercer’s stare. “He would never allow this.”

“And why is that?”

Spider held eye contact as long as he dared. Quaritch was the one person who might just stick up for him. If he ended up being complicit in the whole thing…

“No one here has raised a single objection, Miles. The case has been approved by the ethics board and so will proceed. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

Approved? How could this possibly be above board? 

“You’re not a citizen, Miles. You don’t belong anywhere. You’re not even documented. There’s no legal evidence that you exist at all.”

Spider’s retort got stuck in his throat. As he processed Mercer's words, he realised he had no reply. Mercer was talking to him like he wasn’t even human, like he had no rights at all. “Fuck you,” he said with venom. 

This only brought a callous smirk to Mercer’s lips. “We’re not wasting any time. In a moment the medics will be in to take your baseline data. Are you going to behave or will we need to restrain you?”

Spider scoffed, taking a step back. It felt like he was on a train headed straight for a crash and there was no way to jump off. If what Mercer said was really true then he was utterly screwed. He had a choice to make. 

“What the hell are these baselines?” he growled, bidding for time. 

“Standard protocol,” Mercer replied casually. “Height, weight, muscle mass, blood pressure… that kind of thing.”

“You know I can’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth, right?”

“No,” Mercer smiled. “But as we’ve established, you don’t really have a choice.

Spider snarled, but didn't reply. 

“Now be a good little boy and don’t put up a fight. I don’t need any more men or women in the med bay.”

Was that supposed to be a guilt trip? For a second, Spider almost considered that he’d been too physical with the security, but then he remembered why he was here and the bubble of rage in his chest painted his insides hot again. Before he could answer, a quiet buzz sounded by the sliding glass door, and he turned to see a woman who looked to be in her late thirties with brown hair and kind eyes step over the threshold, flanked by two armed guards. 

“Hello, Spider,” she said. “My name’s Janine.”

[zoeykallus]

Hey Guys!

I just wanted to apologize for not being as active as I usually am. I had a few people ask me what's going on and why I don't publish writings of mine daily anymore. So I thought maybe some of you need an explanation, because to be honest, it's tiring me to answer the same thing again and again in my PM's 😓

At the moment I'm in a kind of struggle phase, mentally as well as financially.

I'm about to lose my best friend and fury family member in the next few days. My dog Cooper has gotten sick in the last few weeks, showing not only weaknesses because of his old age, but he also managed to hurt his leg (while secretly climbing on and off my couch, when I was working), as well as teeth problems that seem to cause him a lot of pain.

It's not easy. I barely make it through a month with what I earn, with all the prices shooting higher while the payment for work keeps staying the same. I sold a lot of my stuff, all my books, blue rays, even parts of my clothing and that little bit of jewelry that I had, to get by. In the last weeks Cooper has struggled so much that I had to sell more to get money for the vet and I had to cut back hours again to care for him, because by now he can barely get up on his feet on his own, to get to his water or food, so I can't leave him alone for long.

As you can imagine it's not easy, my family lives way too far away to help out by watching him. I'm pretty much on my own, at least for now. It's time, I need to get him to the vet and eventually let him go. It hurts like hell, but it must be done, he's not doing good at all right now. Letting my fur baby go after 13 years of unconditional love is a downer, but I don't want him to suffer any longer.

Some may say or think "It's just a dog, get over it" and unfortunately I had even people saying that to my face. I'm not proud of it, but the last person who said this to my face, has a black eye now. My dog was always there in my worst and my best moments, and he never judged, he just loved and was always super happy when I came back from work, or grocery shopping. He was there in the morning to remind me I should go on and not give up on me, in my darkest hours when I really struggled to think of a reason to get up in the morning. I wanted to give up on myself, I thought I was done. But there was Cooper, looking at me with big eyes and I knew I couldn't just leave him behind, he needed me and for a long time that was the only thing giving me purpose, before I relearned that life can be more and better again.

So I wasn't in a good state lately and there wasn't much writing. But I just started another request this evening that will be done in the next few hours. Sometimes it calms me, but there have been moments recently when I felt very, very tired and empty and not in the slightest motivated. Aside from that, I don't get anywhere near enough sleep or nutrition these days to feed my brain enough to work properly. Sorry for that. I will write more again soon.

I didn't forget any of you, nor am I ignoring your asks! I hope you understand and won't be mad or disappointed with me. I'm not gone, just a little slower these days, but it'll get better and more again at some point.

Thanks for reading all this if you did, and thanks for your understanding!

[valkyrjavalhalla]

Strange kind of body horror....

I realized I was trans this year. I think there were some signs I had picked up on, like how if there was a button that would magically turn me into a girl, I would push it. I was always aware of trans people, I've had trans friends since middle school, but never once did I ever consider that perhaps I was also trans. I had read articles, listened to personal stories, and watched videos that analyzed and dissected the trans experience. I felt comfortable with my masculinity, affirmed I was a boy, wore masculine clothing all the time, and went through high school with little pretty much zero question of what my gender was.

This all changed in about May. I was playing a video game and I was playing as a woman. I've always preferred to play women in video games, but this one was different. It is the only game I've played that allows you to select your genitalia, regardless of body type. I thought this was cool! And as I played, I realized that I actually wouldn't mind if I were a woman with a penis. "Not minding" the thought of being a woman turned into going to bed begging to wake up as one.

Constant weighing of my options and choices I had led me to conclude that, in some form or another, I was "not cis." In the game, the character's full name was Valerie. It's only said a few times in the game itself (the protag goes by V regardless of gender), but Valerie just sounded like such a nice name...so I picked it, and it's my name now.

At first, everything was pretty okay! I came out to my close friends, who were all incredibly supportive, and I started researching what my next steps should be as the months passed. As time has gone on, however, my mental state towards my transness has depleted itself of all its positivity. Where I was once comfortable with being assigned a different gender at birth and separating who I was then from who I am now, this is no longer true. Things that didn't bother me before have started to affect me more than I thought they ever could. My hands are massive, my torso is generically male, my hips are rigid and not pronounced, my face is a big jaw with a decent-sized nose and itty bitty eyes, and I have hair in more places than I can count. I am no longer comfortable with most of this (the nose I can honestly live with, I think it will look good on Girl Me).

While I am bisexual and have a boyfriend, I have a pretty strong preference towards women, especially as I've gotten older. The unfortunate truth is that positive cis WLW posts that end up on my feed make me extremely jealous. I've read endless adorable stories about young WLW relationships or loving one another's cis bodies as women, knowing I've missed that, and will never have that.

I feel like a kidnapping victim who has realized their whole life was a lie. All these positive memories from my childhood are fraught with a lack of femininity, and it brings me to tears. I love my boyfriend more than anything else in the world, I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but it hurts so deeply that I never got to be a young queer cis woman. I don't care how more challenging my life would have been. I want to hit reset.

What I am experiencing, and what many late-bloomer trans women experience, is this strange kind of body horror. Where once you were at least kind of okay with having a man's body, now this body feels increasingly wrong. Surely this can't be the same body I have had for the last 19 years of my life...

As my brain was swirling with memories of childhood and transness, I remembered something my mom said to me in 6th grade as she dropped me off at a friend's house. She was always supportive of my queerness and is queer herself. (She was a lesbian for decades, and learned she was bisexual when she met my father) She told me then that if I did not feel I was the right gender, if I felt they got it wrong and I was in reality a girl, she would get me puberty blockers and the time to get them was now. At the time, I was a clueless kid. I thought I knew perfectly well who I was and what my gender was going to be for the rest of my life. I turned back to her and smiled, saying "No, it's okay! I'm a boy!"

I will never get to go back and tell Little Me to say yes.

I know, in the end, I will be okay. And if you read this far, you will be okay too! Besides this bullshit, I am doing very well mentally, and everything is looking up for me! (I start HRT later this month) I plan to continue to write about my trans experience and overcome my haunting feelings surrounding my identity. I hope one day I can look back on this and cringe, or at least reflect. I hope I feel different. I hope I am different. I hope I'm happy.

Stay safe out there girlies <3

[pathofreason]

huge slash random as hell to do esque list.

feel free to ignore or tell me how you keep yourself in check ex. diary, notion, etc. liking this so i can save it lol + i think i'll pin it too

make new emails ; come up with email handles. need emails for:

instagram, spotify, letterboxd, discord, pinterest, fragnatica, last.fm

tumblr

games (hsr, gi, etc)

college (will keep using the same one, listed for visualization) *

sort of professional ish sounding email *

? github , etc *

notion ??? i'm scared of having personal data stolen even tho i would assume it happens all the time but this is why i always have a handful of diff emails for diff things so mostly none are linked and i'm unsure if i should have the notion one separate from the rest etc.

* possibly the same one as the one for college? maybe make a new one? github should be same as the pro one but i have no github acc yet unfortch. etc. college one is mostly just getting emails forwarded there, etc

will think of more things for the email section later. if there even is more to think about

think of good usernames a la "pathofreason" that can stick for a while and aren't cringe/won't need to be changed after 3 months. same goes for the emails

make a FUCKING notion account dear god. i have obsidian but it does not feed my aesthetics hungry brain at all

not nearly as important as anything else in this post and almost done already but need to really stabilize it - - - lists of favourites: films / writers / directors / musicians / philosophers / fashion designers / songs / albums. will add more if i remember

MAKE LIST OF GROCERIES I WOULD BUY WEEKLY.

DAILY ROUTINE INCLUDING:

10k steps minimum

waking up between 5:30 and 9:00 + at most 10:00 on days off, 11:00 to 12:00 if feeling unwell or hungover

going to bed between 22:00 and 00:30

at least 70% healthy food. if unhealthy then eat insanely little and balance

water consistently no specific goal in ml

stretching for mobility

light workouts at least 30min while doing something else (watching youtube, cooking etc)

study minimum 1h

write in diary/journal when i do start - and i should start asap

hand cream at night

shower - no hair

TAKE GOD DAMN VITAMINS ETC

brush teeth morning and night

WEEKLY (ish) ROUTINE INCLUDING:

read book(s). no weekly page goal

watch one film per week

listen to the only two podcasts i enjoy will not list them here

wash hair twice a week (wednesday and weekend?)

exfoliate once a week or every second week if no energy

thursday casino after classes for free €10 "ladies night" on machines DO NOT STAY LATE

WHEN GOING OUT:

gloves

scarf

lipstick/gloss/eyeshadow

sunglasses

€100 MONTHLY BUDGET COVER:

extra for groceries if needed - estimate weekly €15 monthly €65

bus ticket if needed - €15

hygiene necessities - estimate monthly €20

if i don't use it up for these then i can spend it on whatever i want. most notable and common options coffee, makeup, clothes

ORGANISE:

spotify (playlists)

lists on letterboxd (decide favourite films finally)

closet - do i even have a style? get rid of cringe shit from years ago. get in touch with what i have and if i need more or replacements or declutter etc

book collection

phone. the entire thing

CLEAN AND ORGANISE MY ROOM AND APARTMENT

START REPLACING WHAT IS LEFT OF SHITTY FOOTWEAR AND COATS/JACKETS/ETC

NEED TO BUY:

socks that don't suck ass

small pouch for my makeup that isn't ugly looking

l'occitane hand cream

lip balm(s)

coffee capsules for machine

pajamas

WANT TO BUY:

mac lipstick in diva

dior single eyeshadow in beige mitzah

chanel eyeshadow quad - haven't decided which one

those perfect €165 red boots (thin heels unfortunately) i found but don't remember the brand

NEED TO FIND:

good coats in general

good snow boots

good sunscreen - it's almost winter rn so not necessity for rn but very important

WANT TO TRY:

"skincare" - idk if i'm being gaslit by social media tho i'm 20yo idk if this chemical shit even matters other than sunscreen ofc

WANT TO FIND:

real fur ushanka

(real duh) leather gloves

chanel lipstick i actually like

nail lacquer that isn't in an ugly looking bottle : clear, red, beige. etc

MIDTERMS START ON THE 19TH GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND FUCKING STUDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND ALSO WORKOUT TO GET FUCKING SKINNIER DAMN!!!!! AND GET ORGANISED!!!!

[androgynousblackbox]

Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 2 [Appleradio]

Good morning, listeners. Your good friend Alastor is here once again. Today you may forgive me for not being on my usual high spirits, for I find myself rather annoyed.

But Alastor, I know you must be asking. What could possibly annoy the always friendly and law abiding radio host that we know and love? That doesn't sound like you at all! I know, I know, I am nothing if not patient, dear listener, but even I have my limits. There are certain things in this world that must not be tolerated.

That weird static is there again. Please ignore it.

Unfortunately, until that weird static calms down, I am afraid that I will have to keep the suspense alive. For now, let's start today with our favorite piece of news: the obituary!

It seems that last night the old man Jenkins has finally passed away. This morning his neighbors were congregated around his house, in front of the open door. It was a disaster inside, you could see it even from the street, like a hurricane had stopped by and stayed a bit longer than planned. Tragic, absolutely tragic. Jenkings was a tolerable member of this community who we all could more or less remember clearly.

If only his own curiosity wasn't getting the best of him. That was always one of his biggest flaws, whether he would admit it or not. And his imagination, my! He had a bit too many, especially after just a few beers in the local pub. Oh, I know that those who were there know exactly what I am talking about.

Babblering on and on about all these strange and unexplicable murders that happened in our town. Talking about how once this was a pacific and normal place where everyone could feel safe. Truly delirious, that poor man. I almost felt pity siting next to him and hearing his incoherent conspiracy theories. He was convinced that someone in our precious and wise community could be the responsible for those deaths! I could not believe my ears when I hear it.

He even said he had some kind of proof that he was planning to give some friend reporter. But I am sure that if someone were to have a look all over his house, like that hurricane seem to have done, they wouldn't have found anything at all out of the ordinary.

So, clearly, that man was just suffering of some kind of brain tumor that was pushing against whatever rational thinkings he had left after a lifetime of wasting away being a parasyte for society. Quite pitiful.

Of course I had to help him out get home. What kind of monster I would be if I left someone so obviously unwell to go completely on their own at the mercy of the night? Obviously I don't mean it for anyone in our town.

But there are beasts out there who won't stop no matter how much you beg. Creatures that feed on your screams and laugh on the face of your demise. Things that no sane mind could ever hope to comprehend.

I am talking about raccoons, if it wasn't clear enough. Those damn monsters have been making a disaster out of everyone's garbage lately. So this is your friendly reminder to please lock up your garbage tight and keep it close, where it should have stayed in the first place. Don't share no matter how much you want to make a conversation out of it, like some other people could. Some things are best left unsaid.

After a lovely conversation about the stock market, I was off my way. For any police officer who may be listening right now, Husk, first of all, fix your hair, you shouldn't be judging anyone with a hair that messy. Second of all, how about lay it off with the donuts? If you want a heart attack so badly, goodness me… you just have to ask.

Indeed, everyone is going to miss old man Jenking. If I may give an advice, save the ink on the wanted posters. There are dogs who would appreciate the attention so much more and it would be infinitely more productive. At least with the dog there is a possibility to find them.

Unless a raccoon got them. But who would want to hurt the best friend of men, right, listeners? Only if they barked at the wrong moment, I suppose, bringing unwanted attention when it's the least convenient for everyone else. But they tend to be smarter than that. Beasts know to bow down when a bigger predator is around, after all.

The family of old man Jenking haven't officially dennounced his death yet, so I guess this is kind of a spoiler? I imagine it will take around a week for the idea to fully sink in. Someone could probably accelarate the process by showing what was left of our dear old pal. If only something was left in order to do that.

Please, forgive me if I laugh a little too much. I just keep thinking of an old joke I heard one time, one that has nothing to do with what I am talking about right now. I can't help it. Oh, but you wouldn't get it, dear listener. You should have been there.

Ah. I did needed that pick me up. I think I am on a better mood now to relay to you what soured my morning. After I do, I do hope you understand my state of mind.

I was on my way to the station when I remembered, silly me, that I forgot to buy something for lunch. I had a bunch of new meat to prepare, but nothing to accompany it! I was thinking so much about that old joke that it completely slipped my mind. Naturally I went to the supermarket and there, right there, in front of the dairy products, was the single most offensive view I have ever seen on my life.

He was a tiny man. Minuscule even. Such a small being that I could probably hold it on my pocket and squish it until his eyes pop out. Even at a distance I could see that his head wouldn't even reach my own chest. What kind of man lets himself be so small and vulnerable? Don't you have any dignity or it doesn't fit inside that microscopic frame? At least use some heels, women do it all the time!

So that was the first insult, dear listener.

But then this tiny man took out the sun hat that he was wearing and his hair was so stupid that I wanted to vomit right there. Yes, listener, as you heard! So stupid, shiny and silky, as if nobody in this town has anything better to do than to stare in awe and imagine what would it be like to caress it with your fingers. What a grostque display of vanity! How is that even allowed in public? Who gave this tiny man the right to have that stupid perfect hair? Second insult!

Oh, if only had ended there, dear listener. Maybe then that could have been just an unpleasant memory and it could be it. But he wasn't alone, you see. He was talking with that clerk with an eye patch that says "my creepy comments" on here are hilarious. I think her name was Cherri? I don't know what she means by that, but as long someone appreciate my work I guess they can't be that bad. I might even forgive her for what she did next.

She presented us! Right there! With no warning or preparation prior! Because I talked about that damn new toy maker that just moved to town on the last episode, she thought she was doing me a favor by just telling me that this tiny man with the stupid hair was that toy maker all along.

The one time that the youth decide to pay attention to what I say and this is what I get!

Lucifer Morningstar, said his name was. Have you ever heard about anything more pretentious than that? I seriously doubt that is his real name at all. Husk, if you ever want to do anything useful in your life, you should check on that. Someone with that hair and that tiny body and those big stupid blue eyes could never have a name like that. It can't be real. The feeling in my gut is telling me so.

And he said that oh, I was just getting to know the town and everyone told me about you. Oh, and are you really the radio host of this town? And oh, that must be so fun and your job must be great! Oh, I will have to take a listen sometime!

He just wouldn't stop! I wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until he felt as dizzy as I was getting listening to him! I would shake the answer out of him if I had to!

WHY IS YOUR SMILE SO WHITE!? WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?! I KNOW YOU MUST BE HIDING SOMETHING. NOBODY IS THAT NICE AND PERFECT!

AND CAN SOMEONE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT STUPID STATIC ALREADY, I CAN BARELY HEAR MYSELF HERE.

Oh-oh.

FUCK!"

"Apologies, dear listeners. We seem to have an sudden power outage. Luckily we have back up power regenerators while the fusebox is getting repaired. It seems to have exploded out of nowhere for no apparent reason at all. How completely unrelated to anything we were talking about here.

I had time to calm down now. I am good. Just don't pay any mind to the red splatters outside of the building, I am sure it's nothing. Maybe some teenager's new graffity or something as inocuous as that. That would explain the abandoned shoes I had no time to pick up.

Anyway, I think I didn't even finish my story, did I? Well, after that very horrible and disgusting encounter, "Lucifer", if that is even his real name, said that he was looking forward to opening the toy store with some of his new inventions real soon.

Clearly a money laundering scheme. Husk, look it up. Why it has to be me the one to tell you to do your job?

I think we all learned a lesson today, dear listener. Some things are best left unsaid and sometimes people should stay on their own towns and not comes to new places to talk with new people who didn't ask for them to be there. Sometimes change can stay unchanged. Sometimes change can be bad and quite upsetting. Why would you wanna risk it?

Ah.

Now, the weather…"

[everythingseasoning]

hello! i have questions for you i’m wondering about! you can answer them if your comfortable ^.^

what are your pronouns?

do you have a favorite drink?

pet peeves?

do you have any talents?

what song is on repeat now?

what got you into jjk?

are you in a relationship?

any allergies?

favorite color?

HELLO ! I LOVE QUESTIONS !!! (I’m very excitedly typing)

Pronouns - she/they! Lately one of my profs has been referring to me as “she” and … well … it doesn’t feel quite right, but for me personally I don’t care that much if people use she/her towards me. Sometimes I refer to myself as she and it’s totally good in the moment. Sometimes I don’t feel like a she. So she/they works!

Favorite Drink - I only really like water with my meals, or possibly green tea. I love sipping on sugary drinks when I crave that (i take very tiny sips and the drink lasts forever), but never ever do I drink anything like that with meals. I will also drink black tea with coffee creamer when I’m feeling like I need dopamine HAH. Drinking coffee or matcha unfortunately makes my body and brain feel wonky. I can’t focus and it’s like I’m in a state of numbing anxiety. Don’t like it. But l still, on occasion, will drink either.

Pet peeves - Mean people when existing near me. Narrow minded & judgmental people when existing near me. People who walk NEAR ME when they could walk further away, (I think I have a personal space need). People who reject others without engaging in discussion and critical thinking (a lesson for us all). When somebody isn’t emotionally intelligent and doesn’t try to be better. When somebody can’t break things down and explain a concept *and they’re a teacher* for fucks sake. When people don’t care about the wellbeing of kids and adolescents. When people don’t care about the wellbeing of another human regardless of age.

Talents - Yes, but the one I’m thinking about shall stay a secret because it’s not a very common skill and I don’t wanna give too much away. Other talents I can talk about… Well, many liberal arts teachers/professionals who meet me and get to know me more, say that I’d be a good psychologist. Oh. A talent I’ve had since I was little: understanding cats. HAHHA. (I was that weird kid who was lost in her own head when she was little, and I hissed at people)

Fav song atm - Strangely enough no song has been on repeat lately! That is unusual though. Try asking again another time, I’ll have an answer for ya

What Got Me Into JJK - Honestly, the hype around JJK is what led me to it AND kept me sticking around. I was seeking something to cure my depression (anime won’t do that, but it can certainly help but you also have to get consistent sunlight, socialization, feed your mind, body, soul, too), and I kept hearing about Jujutsu Kaisen. So I thought WOW this must be a really good one! The thing is that for me, with most anime it takes time for me to feel hyped about it… even with AOT, and AOT is goated… So for JJK, while I laughed A LOT in season 1, I also just felt underwhelmed. I did stick around though, because the fandom kept showing up on my timeline, and it was nice to feel like I was a part of something (seeing everybody simp over characters made me wonder what there was to this show that I was possibly missing out on), because at the time I really wasn’t doing well. It’s embarrassing to admit but it wasn’t until I started talking about it and listening to other people talk when I started seeing the nuance to JJK, and I began to appreciate it. (Don’t watch anime while half asleep and expect to walk away with an understanding of what’s going on…) I also really wanted to understand what others saw in JJK for them to hype it up so much.

Relationship? - No. Do I want romance? Yeah. Will I let myself be in a relationship anytime soon? Highly unlikely. I’ve got a lot of healing & growing to do before I can be a good partner.

allergies? - hurtful people who do stupid things and have zero interest in anyone but themselves (not to say I don’t pity them or have sympathy and empathy for them. I do. But I’m also allergic to them). Oddly enough, I was genuinely allergic to a certain leafy green as a kid. Outgrew that though! thank god haha

Favorite colour - I can’t choose! They each have their own beautiful feel to them. If I had to choose, I’d say green :) with yellow undertones, not blue undertones, though that’s also very pretty (if you’re an artist or take a basic art class with colour involved, ykwim).

Any more questions? Feel free to ask! Loved answering this :) Thank you so much for hopping into my inbox 🩷

[sw33t-t00th-4u]

hi everybody sorry i haven’t been active on this account! between the anime brain rot and other things happening in my personal life, i kinda forgot abt this account LMFAOOOO

that being said, i’ve been thinking about making a post about a certain blog for a minute and due to recent events, i feel more compelled than ever. i don’t think they have a big following or anything, but please take the time to read this before you consider buying a tarot reading from @/livingdeaddivination or supporting them financially in any way. i’ll try to keep it short and sweet lol. (⚠️ tw: loss, pet neglect)

i knew “anan” in real life, and they used to be my friend. i’m feeling especially hurt lately because anan wished death upon my best friend, who spent the last two years of her life battling a rare cancer that only 30 something people on this whole planet have. she wanted to be the first person to beat it. she was so close, but she unfortunately lost that battle last week, and anan got their wish. im heartbroken and angry and i feel so empty without her. anan’s exact words were “i hope the cancer kills her quick”. i’m heartbroken and angry and i feel so empty without her, and this is what anan wanted. if someone claiming to be as spiritual as she does speaking something like that into existence doesn’t deter you from supporting her financially, please keep reading.

very little, if any, of the money they could possibly make from these readings will go toward the wellbeing of her pets, as she’s very negligent towards them. i witnessed it first hand. she not only separated 5 out of 7 young kittens from their mother too early and selfishly kept two of them along with the mother, but she hardly put in any effort when it came to taking care of the four cats she had. she never cleaned her cat’s litter boxes and her cats also had worms and fleas and were in bad shape. my late best friend even offered to give her medicine to treat them for free, and she refused it. two of those four cats ran away, and instead of rehoming her remaining two cats, they live outside. not only that, but she had a hamster that she was “scared” to take care of. their hamster was in a small wire cage instead of a proper enclosure, and they would often take out the wheel because “it was annoying”. she kept her hamster in her closet and didn’t feed her, give her water, clean her cage, or even let her run around in a hamster ball. thst hamsyer lived like that for two months, though there's no telling how much of that time the hamster was actually alive for. she neglected that poor hamster to death after i provided her with all the things she could possibly need as i had two hamsters pass away from old age and i had taken care of her for a few months beforehand. had i know that that would be that hamster’s fate, i would’ve never given that hamster back to them.

there’s absolutely more that i could say, but like i said, i wanna keep it short. i didn’t want to make a post so soon because i didn’t want to say anything irrational out of grief, but nothing i could say could ever be as irrational as anything anan has ever said and done. i’m sure if they see this post, they’ll just deflect and make me look bad, block me, delete their account, and make a new one and pretend like nothing happened, but i needed to get this off my chest. if you read this far, thank you, and please keep this in mind before supporting @/livingdeaddivination financially in any way.

[email-me-more]

Snippet from an unnamed and barely begun Zakkura WIP

I don't really know how I feel about this one yet, but there might be something there, idk idk. In short, it's a University AU, and I have some rough plans of where things might go, but I'm not fully sold on it yet. Kinda thinking that Zack feels like the type to be a elite athlete student studying some athletic science aswell, and I have some outlines for others aswell. Aerith as a history student mayhaps? Currently leaning towards that, but I've concidered vet-med aswell. Choices, choices, choices! And yes, this is just the kickoff to the whole thing, so there's little to no interractions between anyone else but Zack and Aerith rn, but hey, it made sense to me. Gotta get the vibe right from the get-go, y'know? See where things end up, since this particular idea just sorta popped into my head late one night. Hope the characterzation isn't absolutely off atleast! Currently hoping the text from word translates well into a tumblr post, because I'm dreading having to reformat it if it won't.

...

There are few living things in this world that Aerith would consider useless. Most living things have a purpose, after all, and it’d feel far too judgemental for her to disregard parts of this world just because she couldn’t “get them”, or simply because the creature was a bit hard to understand.

However, Aerith wryly noted, there are two living things she’d consider useless.

Firstly, ticks. Disgusting little bugs, they are, and she couldn’t fathom how the world would be worse off without them. They hold no purpose beyond spreading sickness, biting and infesting every animal it gets in contact with, and she couldn’t even justify their existence by claiming they served an important purpose as prey to another animal or beast, since there were truly no animals who’d ever choose to consume the wretched things.

Maybe, just maybe, the flames of her hatred for these little bugs would be eternally fanned by the fact that she’d gotten bitten by one as a child, its vile pinchers clinging to her skin just above her shoulder blades, and her moms had decided that the best way to remove it was to slather butter onto her skin!

To be fair, it did work, but the wet squelch as Elmyra had managed to grip the buttered bug once it lost it’s grip on Aerith’s skin was something Aerith would never be able to forget. Nevertheless, they were useless, lacked all sorts of nutritional value of prey, and only served to spread sickness. In Aerith’s mind, the very definition of useless.

The second living thing Aerith would consider useless was Zack Fair, resident idiot.

Now, to be fair, Zack isn’t some disgusting little bug, and the world would probably be worse off without the guy, and he didn’t go around spreading diseases, at least according to his latest STD test results, the sheet of paper still hanging on the fridge, moogle-magnet holding it in place for the world to see, at the great expense of  damaging Aerith’s cutesy kitchen vibe. And he certainly does possess some nutritional value, if he were to fall prey to some hungry creature, the gym rat. However, something he clearly doesn’t possess is a working brain, and Aerith found herself wondering how much more of her roommate’s whining she could listen to before she’d consider his value as a nutritional meal for a predator far greater than his value as her friend.

At this rate? She’d give herself a month, tops, before she begins looking into if there are any starving vampires nearby. However, that could mean he becomes a vampire, immortalizing Zack and his whining, and that’d be even worse, because knowing the idiot, he’d bite Aerith too, dooming her to an eternity as the victim of his complaints just so he wouldn’t be lonely. Yeah no, far too risky.

Maybe stick to some good ol’ fashioned action movie stuff, and throw him into shark infested waters? But then again, that would be feeding into unfortunate shark stereotypes, and at most he’d be a bit nibbled by some sharks, and then Zack's complaining would just be sort of justified. But if the sharks, against all odds, ate Zack, then the poor sharks would just be further demonized, and then their ever-diminishing population would grow even smaller, and then insufferable rich people would start eating even more shark fin soup just because it was so rare, until it was Aerith’s fault they were extinct. Ugh.

With that sad notion, Aerith decided to tune back into Zack’s whining, to see if he were anywhere near done-

“Oh, I’ll never recover from this, might as well just fake my death and flee the country, you’ll get my stuff, don’t worry, I’ll add you to the will- oh, I’ll have to write a will first, to be fair- haha, to be Fair, get it? But then- oh, no, that might be suspicious, they always accuse the person who like, gets rich off of their friends dying of being the person murdering them, and you’d be in trouble, huh, that’d be bad, I guess-”

Yeah, no. Nowhere near it.

The cause of Aerith’s dreadful Thursday morning was currently sprawled across two of her slightly crooked wooden kitchen chairs, having pushed them together into the saddest semblance of a “therapy bench, y’know? Hear me out, I’ll need it!”as Zack had described it, and she was certain he would manage to snap yet another leg (again) before he’s finished his pityparty. Hell, Aerith had begun throwing one for herself and her poor imaginary sharks too, but at least she wasn’t breaking any of his kitchen chairs left and right. Not that he had any, but y’know, it’s the principle, so hypothetical kitchen chairs, then! She watched Zack lean just slightly too much to the side, and cringed at the tortured creak one of her poor, pink chairs made.

“Be careful you don’t break ‘em, Zack.”

He stopped mid-rant (oh, finally), and blinked up at the girl by the stove, watching her flip a pancake with practiced ease.

“Break what? The laws of will-writing, or whatever? You know them?”

A slightly too long pause. Oh, blessed silence.

Creak.

“No, my chairs, Zack. Tifa just fixed them last week, c’mon-”

“’s fine, she’s a great carpenter.”

“She is, but they’re wood, Zack.”

“Yes, yes, but what about me? I’ll have to drop out, and you’re worried about our chairs?”

“No, you won’t. And yes, I’m worried about my chairs.”

“We live together, so they’re like, at least forty percent my chairs too, and besides, I’m not even leaning that much this ti- woah!”

Aerith jabbed her spatula at Zack, who was currently sitting in a splintered pile of wood, feeling not quite unlike how she felt when she had to stop some overly excited puppy from chewing on furniture in her mother’s flower shop a couple of weeks ago.

“I told you, dumbass!”

…

Zack did look a bit embarrassed as he set about sweeping up the splinters from the snapped leg, and then shoved the three-legged chair into the small storage space in the hallway, clambering over the piles of fabric and workout equipment to place it down in the back. (Tifa had asked Aerith if they had space for her to store her spare, but insanely luxurious, fabric she had managed to snag at some estate sale, and to be honest, they kinda didn’t, but Aerith never says no, not if Tifa’s the one asking, at least. She certainly said no when Zack had suggested that they should try out bouldering, after he’d seen a really cool video on instagram. Zack privately believes that’s why Tifa asked her in the first place, she’s smart like that.)

And despite how annoyed she could get, Aerith is a grown woman and is fully capable of realizing that maybe, just maybe, she had been a little bit too angry, and hummed an apology at Zack right as he placed down a beautifully made caramel iced latte by her pancake plate, as well as his own sickly sweet matcha latte.

He’d managed to convince his boss at the café, Barret, to let him take home some of the caramel syrup to be able to make lattes for Aerith a couple of months into his employment, but it hadn’t been the easiest of negotiations, getting to that point.

“Ain’t no way in hell kid, before long you’ll just be askin’ to take home the entire stock.”  Barret had called from the back as he had been packing away the flour into the back, the weekly delivery having been delayed, leaving the two of them scrambling to pack it all away so they could close and go home. “Yer girlfriend can buy her own damned lattes.”

“Aerith’s my roomie, and I swear, I won’t, I’ll buy one of the syrups if you let me? She’s just so tired from cramming, and her exams are right around the corner, I just wanna help.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, kid. But no.” Barret gave Zack a stern look, watching the younger play dairy-and-also-dairy-free-alternatives-Tetris with all the milks, trying to restock the fridge with barely any space to spare.

“I’ll babysit Marlene, if you want?”

Zack was fully focused on trying to keep the almond milks from slipping off the shelf as he shoved in the last three oat milk next to them, and didn’t notice Barret’s look.

“You? Babysit?” Barret laughed, “you’re still a kid yourself.”

“Barret, I help run several classes for children, kids love me!” He grinned at the baker, who had moved to stand next to Zack, restocking the fruits, currently packing away crazy amounts of lemons. Barret had been tinkering away at some lemon tiramisu recipe last week, and it seems like the delicious tinkering would continue, and Zack would be more than happy to help sampling.“I’ll even take her skating, if you want me to? Or I’ll ask Aerith if she wants to join, and we can play some boardgames or something, and you can have a date night with your wife?”

A beat of silence, and then Barret let out a thoughtful hum as he lifted an impressively loaded box of bananas and shoved it in the fridge, and then he looked at Zack, smile splitting his face in two as he clapped a hand onto Zack’s shoulder.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, kid.”

Now, a couple of years into Zack’s employment there, Zack would sometimes end a shift, and find his bag heavier than when he started, only to find that Barret had packed away some baked goods in paper boxes tied off with their signature red ribbons, a box of matcha or yet another bottle of coffee syrup with a flavour Zack hadn’t even known possible. Barret could be quite intimidating, but he was really just a big softie at heart.

But hey, all the syrup and matcha meant that Zack could whip up some real sweet coffee drinks for Aerith (and matchas for himself) whenever he wished, and that came in handy, since Aerith, while she’s an absolute sweetheart, sometimes got so (understandably) annoyed with Zack and his antics that she bordered on tears. She’s usually too sweet to say anything, but Zack had made a habit of dropping off a coffee for her in the library if he was available. Privately, Zack thought she was far easier to apologize to, if the apology included a tasty drink, and he didn’t mind doing it, if it was for her.

Zack bit down on his pancake and sank back into the couch with a delighted sigh as Aerith started up Selling Midgar Sunsets, a delightfully shitty reality show following a realtor firm trying to sell obnoxiously luxurious homes to the wealthiest of Midgar. “Raspberry pancakes? Aerith, I could kiss you.”

She sipped her latté and grinned at him, “right back at you, there´s nougat syrup in here too, right?”

“Yep! Need to get rid of it, the date’s up soon, and I can only drink so much hot chocolate. Cheers?”

“’Cheers! S’really good, Zack, it’s almost like you’d work with the stuff!” Aerith teased as they clinked their glasses together, and Zack huffed in feigned offense.

“Almost? That’s so mean- oh my fucking god, is that a gold bathroom?”

Aerith quickly refocused on the screen, and indeed, it was.

“That’s so tacky, why- ohmygod. The whole house is gold, who owned the house? King Midas himself?”

“I’d sell it too, looks awful- oh, eww, that makes sense.”

Don Corneo, a man who once upon a time had been a successful talk show host, these days far more known for his less than savoury behaviours, both offline and online, that ultimately had been the very reason he’d have to leave the talk show behind, had stepped into the picture, and the show’s subtitles labeled him as “Don Corneo – Entrepreneur – Seller of Property”.

“He’s so… sleazy!”

“Yeah, eww.”

They watched with morbid curiosity as the realtor, Leslie, was walked through the property, and the two of them began cackling with laughter as Leslie stepped into bedroom, and was met with a massive golden statue of Don Corneo himself occupying the corner, the entire roof above the bed only mirrors. Despite the editor's best efforts to cut it out, the realtor's stunned silence was far too long for the cut to be unnoticeable.

Leslie the Realtor looked mortified as Don Corneo, unprompted, mind you, began talking about the use of the mirrors, and Zack and Aerith were in tears by the time the poor realtor finally managed to get into the garden. Zack’s lungs felt as though they were going to leap out of his chest as he laughed, watching the poor realtor try to distract from the hedge sculpture right outside the backdoor, shaped like a … very anatomically accurate genital.

“Naturally, I’ve made sure to have the matching hedge over by the pond, but neatly trimmed of course, since one wants them wet-“ “OKAY!  Alright! That was the garden! Let’s move on!”

“Poor plants.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

...

And that's all for now, folks. If you read this, thanks? Or sorry? English isn't my first language and it's all written in the middle of the night lol, so it is what it is!

[myqueenmarceline]

It’s Free Real Estate

Summary: The backstory for how Marceline got ahold of PB's sweater. (Missing scene with slight canon divergence, Marceline and PB are in a relationship.)

Warnings: none, this is just fluff

I wrote this as a gift for my little sister's bday. This is based on the white sweater with red, yellow, and blue stripes that both Marceline and PB wear later on in the series: https://images.app.goo.gl/UFeAAiBYjb3M8FJq7.

Thank you to @nebula-gaster for beta reading, I appreciate it!

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46226977

Or under the cut:

Marceline blinked slowly, the ceiling coming into focus above her. It was higher than her own ceiling, and she recognized the familiar arches right away. That was right, she had stayed over last night.

She and Bonnibel had finally started hanging out again. She still wasn’t sure if they were really dating or not, but they could take things slow. They both had plenty of time, and maybe the reason things hadn’t worked out the first time was because Marceline had rushed things.

Whatever they were, last night Bonnibel had invited her to watch a movie, and she had accepted. Then they had stayed up talking all night and late into the morning—late enough for Marceline to fall asleep, while Bonnibel went off to start her day. She was probably exhausted, but Marceline had seen her stay up for four days in a row before her brain finally crashed. She would be fine.

Marceline stretched, then finally rolled out of bed. Bonnibel’s blanket was soft and fluffy, and she kept one wrapped around her as she looked around. Her jacket was still lying on the chair where she had dropped it last night, but she had a better idea.

Marceline crept over to Bonnibel’s closet and opened it up. She knew that Bonnibel had some nice clothes, and she wouldn’t miss one sweater. Most of Bonnibel’s closet was pink or purple, but Marceline wasn’t after that.

At the bottom of a thick stack of sweaters, she finally found something she liked. A chunky knitted white sweater with thick red and yellow stripes across the chest, and some blue ones on the sleeves. She felt the material, and it was even softer on the inside than it was on the outside.

Marceline tossed the blanket back on the bed and put the sweater on. It was oversized and hung down her legs almost far enough to be a dress. She glanced down, adjusting the neck of the sweater so that it hung off of one shoulder. Even if she couldn’t see herself in the mirror, she could still tell that the sweater looked nice on her.

The door opened. Marceline turned invisible, hoping the sweater had changed with her. When Bonnibel stepped in, she sighed and reappeared again.

“Hey, what’re you doing back?” She asked, floating a bit closer to Bonnibel. “Is the kingdom finally able to run itself?”

Bonnibel didn’t look surprised to see her. “Unfortunately, no. Breakfast Princess and Wildberry Princess are here for afternoon tea. I need to change,” Bonnibel said, gesturing to her open lab coat and worn-out pink flannel. She glanced up at Marceline and squinted. “Is that mine?”

“Yeah. You mind if I borrow it?” Marceline asked, already going back down to the ground in case she needed to take it off. “It’s really soft.”

“Why?” Bonnibel saw that Marceline was confused, so she explained herself a bit more. “I mean, you have your own clothes. Why do you want mine?”

Marceline opened up the hidden drawer inside of Bonnibel’s closet, and pulled out the old band t-shirt she had given Bonnibel back in the day. “You’ve got one of mine.”

Bonnibel blushed, and she grinned. Too easy. She still had the sweetest pink flush Marceline had ever seen. She had just woken up, so she was hungrier than usual. She shook her head a bit, getting those thoughts out of her head. Feeding from Bonnibel was an emergency measure only.

“You can take it.” Bonnibel looked away, rubbing her arm. “And if… you want to trade more clothes, just let me know.”

“Thanks Bonbon,” Marceline said, letting her feet lift off the ground again.

She moved around Bonnibel and grabbed her jacket from the chair, draping it over her shoulders. She hadn’t expected to stay overnight, so she hadn’t brought her umbrella. She would need to turn into a bat and hide to fly back.

“I’ll go through your closet another night. I should probably head home and get some breakfast.”

Bonnibel nodded, glancing between Marceline and her closet but not moving yet. “Yes. I have to go before the others get suspicious.”

“Okay, cool.” Marceline tugged on her jacket, floating a bit closer to Bonnibel. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Goodbye, Marceline.” Bonnibel smiled at her.

“Bye.”

Marceline swooped in and kissed Bonnibel’s cheek, then flew away before Bonnibel could react. She transformed halfway into her bat form, using her wings to make both the curtains and windows in front of her open wide. Marceline curled up underneath the coat, her face burning as she flew away from the castle.