#but god not in front of all the neighbors
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ozarkthedog · 3 days ago
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đ°đĄđžđ«đž'𝐬 đ°đšđ„đ„đČ?
summary: Dieter Bravo is freezing.
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warnings: silly fluff. gn assitant!reader x boss!Dieter (platonic). swearing. Dieter talking about his cock -> he/him. half naked Dieter. no beta. w.c: 874
an: for @sp00kymulderr “Dick Pronoun Fic Challenge”. I had a ball writing this. 😆💙
I found the item that inspired this drabble over the weekend when I was hosting @seventeenpins and I had to write something feat. the chaos man himself. Pic of said item is in the header lmao 🙃
đŒđšđŹđ­đžđ« đ‹đąđŹđ­Â â‹…Â đ‹đąđ›đ«đšđ«đČ ⋅ đƒđąđžđ­đžđ« đđ«đšđŻđš đŒđšđŹđ­đžđ« 𝐋𝐱𝐬𝐭
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October in California has a way of catching you off guard. One day, it's sweltering; the next, you're bundling under the covers and wearing multiple layers of clothing.
The sun was hiding behind the clouds as it rose over the horizon. A salty breeze rustles the palms that line Dieter's property as you sit on the back patio. You hug the sweater around your body but sit comfortably in your jean shorts as you add events to his already chalk full calendar.
As much as Dieter was chaos, he was also serene. He didn't mind you showing up to work in whatever clothes you wanted, sometimes joking about wearing nothing at all. You always rolled your eyes, but half of you believed he was telling the truth. You've seen him half-naked, only wearing his iconic green robe, at least a dozen times.
Thankfully, you were becoming immune. The shock no longer stops you in your tracks.
"Dieter, pants" became your catchphrase. Too many times, you pointed your finger toward the immaculate staircase in his house, sending the artist off in a huff to be more presentable.
It never was a dull day working for Dieter.
"NOODLES!!"
You stop typing when you hear Dieter's panic-stricken voice echo over the balcony.
"Noodles" is his nickname for you. It all started one day after you ate a bowl of Ramen. He was mesmerized for whatever reason while you ate lunch at his kitchen island. He was stoned, having consumed an entire plate of Korean BBQ after a lengthy painting session. As much as you didn't want it, the name stuck.
"What!?" You crane your neck toward the balcony situated slightly overhead.
"HAVE YOU SEEN WALLY?!" Dieter leans over the railing with worry etched on his brow. His green robe graces his shoulders as he looks down at you, his soft brown curls naturally askew.
You think for a moment, puzzled, before looking up at him. "What!?"
"WALLY! I'M FUCKING FREEZING!" He cries before running back through the balcony doors.
What in god's name is a Wally?
"Why don't you put on some more clothes?!" You suggest, leaning back in your chair, thankful for the break.
You can only imagine what his neighbors must think.
"IT'S TOO WARM FOR CLOTHES!"
You raise your hands in frustration. There wasn't any way to subdue him.
Just then, a pair of leather pants lands in a crumbled heap on the stone patio.
The sheer black button-up Dieter wore to the premiere of The Bubble floats down and lands next to the pair of pants. The cowboy boots he got as a gift for working on an indie film, which he never wore, other than that time you found him in nothing but in said boots strutting around his studio with his fingers posed as guns, bounces off the stone and ricochets in difference directions.
You take a long swig of coffee and rub your temples as more and more clothing rain over the balcony. "WHERE IS WALLLLLLYYYYY?"
Finally, a cheer bursts from the bedroom and down to the patio as you start back on your task.
"NEVERMIND! I FOUND HIM!"
Great. The first crisis of the day averted.
Dieter races down the staircase and rounds the patio table with a bounce in his step. Thankfully, you had no more coffee, or you would've spit it all over your laptop.
Dieter proudly stands naked in front of you, wearing only his Crocs and sipping a fresh cup of coffee. His open green robe billows in the cool breeze leaving no inch of his golden body hidden as his cock and balls are wrapped in some bundle of red knit.
It looks like something your grandma would've made, and you instantly regret thinking of her in this situation.
"Dieter." All words cease to form as you stare dumbly at your half-naked boss.
"He's nice and toasty now." Dieter happily sighs and sits across from you, his robe parting directly down the middle. "He just needed his good ol' pal, Wally."
You notice his "bundle" through the glass table. It rests comfortably between his burly, spread thighs. A red knit bow is tied at the crest of his flaccid shaft. You'd never seen anything like it, and that scared you.
"Where did you get Wally?" You ponder before you can stop yourself.
Dieter purses his lips, deep in thought, before pointing to his lap, "He always gets cold whenever I wear my robe. So what's the best solution? A sock? Psh, it's not thick enough." He huffs, waving a hand like he's shooing a fly.
"Then I tried to wrap a knit hat around him, but the elastic acted more like a cock ring." He sends you a wink, and a playful brow twitches, rising and falling consecutively before leaning across the table like he's telling you a secret. "And then one night I was surfing the web and found this!"
His warm eyes beam with delight. "From then on, he's never been cold. Plus, I can move around without anything cramping my style."
You slowly nod. If there were ever a piece of clothing that was Dieter, this would be it.
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Alright then. Let's make sure he's never without his Wally again."
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feel free to scream at me -> 💌
reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!
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bootsukki · 11 hours ago
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masterlist
warnings: nothing i think............... (i don't know if i hate this tbh)
tsukishima kei loved his niece, he really did, but, she was getting on his nerves. his brother akiteru and sister-in-law had left earlier that week for a work trip, leaving 24-year-old tsukishima kei in charge of his lovely five-year-old niece, hana.
so far, it had been relatively smooth, he took her to school, went to work, picked her up again and drove her home, where he made food (not as good as mum's, as hana said) and spent the afternoon with her, doing homework and playing.
until wednesday, kei's third day with hana
"uncle kei," hana piped up, taking the hair brush from kei's hands and shaking her head "you don't know how to braid hair"
"no."
"why not? mama knows how to."
kei had been trying his best at braiding her hair for the day. she insisted that, on wednesdays, she always wear braids to school and, after what it seemed like a excruciating amount of tutorials, the girl had given up on getting kei to braid it.
"because i've never had to braid someone's hair, hana"
hana frowned, her expression a mix of disbelief and determination.
"but i want it braided."
"i can't braid it, hana."
"then i'm not going to school."
"what?" kei asked, confused. "you are going to school, miss."
"no!" hana screamed "if i can't wear braids, i'm not going!"
"hana, please." kei leaned down, looking at the little girl desd in the eye. "i have to go to work and you have to go to school."
she squinted at him. "miss (y/n) next door knows how to! she always wears pretty braids and she can teach you."
"miss who?" kei knew almost all of his brother's neighbors, but it was the first time he had ever heard of that name.
"she's our new neighbor." hana jumped, grabbing the sleeve of kei's shirt, her insistence (and his need to go to work), leaving him with no choice but to follow the girl out the door.
when they arrived at the neighbouring house, hana knocked on the door and a young woman opened the door, blinking in surprise at the sight of them.
kei nearly choked at the sight of her. she didn't seem older than he was and her hair was up in a ponytail, a smile making its way towards her face at the sight of hana. she was probably the prettiest woman kei had set his eyes on and the fact that she was smiling at him was not helping the heat that was rising to his cheeks.
god, he felt like a teenager.
"hi there, little tsukishima!" she said, voice friendly. "how can i help you?"
"my uncle kei doesn't know how to braid my hair." hana announced bluntly, giving (y/n) the hair brush she had been holding on. "can you do them for me?"
(y/n)'s lips twitched into a smile, looking up at the tall man in front of her. his tall, broad frame nearly filled the doorway and his midly annoyed expression but rosy cheeks only made the situation more amusing. he was pretty handsome. "it's nice to meet you. i'm kinda new to the neighbourhood, my name's (y/n)."
"i'm akiteru's brother, kei."
they stood for just a few seconds, looking at each other, before (y/n) looked at the little girl who had already made her way inside her house.
"and... of course i can braid your hair, pretty."
kei hesitated before stepping into her house. it was an open space, living room and kitchen connected. what really caught his attention was the setup: a camera perched on a tripod, a bowl of... was that whipped cream on the counter next to a banana? no need to say that his mind went somewhere.... completely innapropiate. why did she had a camera like that? why the whipped cream? why the banana?
(y/n) noticed his gaze lingering and quickly cleared her throat, cheeks reddening but before she could explain herself, hana sat in a chair and urged them to get on with the braids.
(y/n) leaned down, busying herself with hana's braids while kei stood awkwardly near the door and once she finished, hana ran to his arms.
"do i look pretty, uncle kei?"
"the prettiest but you need to say thank you quickly because we are going to be late."
"thank you, miss (y/n)!"
"you're welcome, sweetie," she replied smiling. then, turning to kei, she added. "i... uh..."
"thank you for this but we have to go."
"oh... okay. bye"
"bye, miss (y/n)!"
--------------
(y/n) stood in front of the tsukishima's household, holding a box full of cookies and took a deep breath, making her way towards the door, ringing the doorbell.
kei was finishing up the dinner he had been preparing and when to the door to open it, finding (y/n) holding a neatly wrapped box.
"here," she said, looking down, trying not to look at him in the eyes, completely embarrased. "i... i'm a baker! a really good one and i have a blog and a youtube channel and i always film at home because.... because i love to and yeah... i've been doing this since i was 14 and now, i'm 24 and i don't film myself doing weird stuff with whipped cream! you weren't probably thinking about that but a girl who lives in a big house, had a camera set up and pointing to whipped cream and a banana? haha, it is weird, right? anyway... "she offered the box to him. "yeah, i'm sorry. i ramble a lot when i'm nervous but i am a pretty good baker so, please, take them. although i don’t know if you are the type of man who likes swe-“
kei laughed, hiding his mouth with his hand, shaking his head and she just stopped talking, hoping the ground would open and eat her.
“you do ramble”
“sorry! i
 sorry”
kei smiled, taking the box from her hands, opening it, mouth watering at the sight of the freshly baked cookies, an arrangement of different flavors.
“i’ll be honest. i thought you were doing weird stuff.”
“i know.” she sighed. “it has happened before, that's why i moved here, my landlord actually threw me out of my last apartment because people were complaining and thinking that... well, yeah... sometimes brands ask me to film tutorials and they spend a lot of money on them so there has been a whole set up of cameras at home, which doesn’t look good in my neighbors’ eyes.” she looked up, hiding her hands on the pockets of her coat. "i'm rambling again, sorry."
“no, i'm sorry. i'm sorry that happened to you.”
“don’t be.” she smiled and kei reciprocated her smile and she just waved, turning to go back home. "well, see you around, i guess."
before she could make a quick exit, kei grabbed the sleeve of her coat.
“sorry, i
” kei looked at her. “would you like to stay for dinner? hana would love having you for dinner and i
 i would like to know more about your weird filming experiences.”
(y/n) smiled, nodding.
--------------
kei: hey, why don't you take a few extra days to relax?
akiteru: did something happen? is hana okay?
kei: everything’s fine, trust me.
kei: so?
akiteru: yeah, why not? we trust you.
akiteru: btw say hello to lovely (y/n) from us! if she bakes something, keep it on the fridge.
kei: wtf
*akiteru reacted with haha*
akiteru: remember, hana loves gossip, you’re not safe.
*kei reacted with an angry-faced emoji*
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trashiiking · 1 year ago
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So how bout that update huh?
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roseofcards90 · 9 months ago
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.
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eldritchmochi · 9 months ago
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you know that fanfic trope? the one where the pov character sees just a lil sliver of tummy or hip when the love interest lifts their arms and their shirt rides up? and then the pov character just bluescreens and does something incredibly stupid? that one
definitely explains why i loudly yelled into my crushes car "MY PHYSICAL THERAPIST SAYS SEX AND MASTURBATION IS TOTALLY GOOD CARDIO" when he dropped me off today
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trans-rights-coastalmangoes · 1 month ago
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i need white women to fucking stop
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kakashihasibs · 6 months ago
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I am so glad emergency vets are a thing
#tw for dog injury and mention of blood#Obi my dad's cattle dog cut himself super bad on some scrap metal in the neighbor's yard#Obi just barreled through it without any hesitation#i think my dad is going to ask the neighbor to clean it up bc it's right next to our yard#but anyway Obi was in bad shape#he was bleeding more than ive ever seen anyone bleed#he hit a vain in his back leg and i had to hold pressure the whole way to the vet#which was about a half hour (which was the closest one)#Obi is okay now#he's still at the Vet under observation#they had to sedate him so they could sew him up but I'm pretty sure he's going to be fine#he'll just have to take it super easy for the next few weeks :(#but god there was so much blood guys#i was covered in it by the time we got to the vet#i had my hand wrapped around his leg pinching the artery as tight as i could#which poor Obi did not enjoy#mind u i used to rick climb so my grip strength is above average#he also had a bad cut on his front leg and my mom was holding that#i didnt even have shoes on we rushed out the door so quickly#at the vet i left a bigger blood trail than obi did bc it was on my socks and clothes#my hands were coated in blood too :(#we grabbed a towel but i wasn't able to get it on the wound bc i was basically using my hands as a shitty tourniquet#my husband got left at home and he ended up cleaning all of the blood off the floor and he's surprised he was able to without feeling faint#my youngest brother was with him and he did almost pass out#my dad is in rough shape he just wants Obi to be okay#my dad said “i dont care how much it costs please save my dog”#which like same but also we're not exactly well off x_x or even okay financially#so it's gonna be a hard few months as we work to pay it off#so anyway how was ur Saturday night? x_x
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littlemut · 5 months ago
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today on we’re so so done
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skrunksthatwunk · 11 months ago
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not to doomer post. but. american politics is like here's a conservative warmonger who wants to burn you alive personally and here's a different conservative warmonger who definitely wouldn't stop someone from burning you alive BUT who might raise the minimum wage by $0.30/hour for you, but only like eight years from now (so re-elect me please!! >w<). yes one of them has to be president they are the only two options we'll let you have. no neither of them will stop the government from killing you or anyone else, but at least one will say "it's kind of bad to kill people :( someone should really do something about that..." while giving the people-killers $20,000,000,000,000 to keep doing it then saying they can't afford to help you at all, but oh shucks, maybe next cycle, if you vote for me again! and also everyone will pretend as though they are extremely different political entities covering two highly polarized ends of the political spectrum despite nearly identical policy views obscured by their slightly different ways of addressing their target audiences, many of whom are also conservative warmongers. and also if you don't vote or vote third party the other guy will win and you will watch as they burn everyone you love alive in the same way they've burned so many strangers so you kind of feel like you have to vote for the other warmonger because even though they both have blood on their hands you'll take a handshake over an uppercut. even if you can still see the bodies piling up behind them. even if you can only save like five people you know and not the thousands of people who are dying in the other room. because you believe the difference between 30,000 and 30,005 is still worth it even though no one needed to die in the first place and no one seems to agree with you. you have to keep living in this world every day. if anything changes it will take decades and it will never be enough. if this takes a toll on you good fucking luck surviving off the generosity of the warmonger state that claims to serve you. happy voting!!
#like. yeah i'll take the raised minimum wage. i guess. but jesus christ#yes you are doing slightly good things sometimes almost. can you stop killing people though. please. that is a higher priority#like this is my first prezzy election season since i turned voting age right and like. what the fuck am i supposed to do now#what am i supposed to do with this. it took me 5 fucking months to pick a dead cockroach off my floor how am i supposed to fix this.#how am i meant to be a person and go on living while knowing i am doing nothing and cannot do anything and won't do anything#i need to fight i need to get up but i am stuck. im always stuck. i pray yknow. i don't know what else to do#how can people think about buying houses and getting promotions in this world. how are they not feeling likr their chest is caving in every#time they falter in their complex self-distraction. how am i supposed to do anything when all i can think about is helping and my body won't#let me. i cant do anything i cant but i have to but i cant. im supposed to and im a bad person if i dont and i cant live like that.#and if i am too upset about that i am punished for it by the people around me and ignored by those in power if not punished as well.#i love the world. i love people. you motherfuckers are killing everything and im not stopping you and you're getting in the way of me loving#the life i was built to love and i can't understand why you think it's even thinkable to do what you're doing. or what im doing.#i just want to look at clovers and paint and be good to my neighbors but you won't stop fucking murdering people in front of me#and i can't fucking do anything. i cant take care of the people i love i can't carry my own weight i can't take care of myself i can't move#and im supposed to fucking file taxes? to fund mass slaughter? on the off chance it might go to welfare or something. god.#i hate it here i hate it here america is a fucking nightmare it is hell i can't stand it but if i leave im just running and saving myself#whch is selfsh and cruel and so i would never be able to escape the feeling and i would always be in american hell because it' a part of me#but if i stay i cannot do anything because my body is filled with smoke and broken glass and im supposed to fucking get my drivers license#so i can buy groceries or get a job so i can keep myself on life support watching everything get worse and worse around me#and knowing that nothing has ever been good here and ive been lied to forever and im still being lied to#and i am in hell.#and me dying won't fix it and me living won't fix it ans both are too painful to even consider.#i am drowning i am drowning i am drowning i am drowning and my skin is on fire im on fire and i want to have children. but i can't imagine#doing that to someone. oh my god. and to raise them and watch them come to understand what this place ive brought them to is#that ive raised them in a slaughterhouse and to feebly try to show them the clovers and the ducks and the baby shoes and teach them to love#when maybe that love of the world is a distraction. or maybe i use it as one. i think of the blood as an obstacle to love and joy but maybe#i would not love the world so much if i was not so constantly desperately scared and ashamed of living in it#and i am a very lucky person. my life is cushy and i want to rip my skin off because what does that matter when it doesnt let me help people#god help me. but help the rest of them first. but i am helped first anyway and i hate it. i dont. i cant. god.#nyarla dni
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girlyliondragon · 1 year ago
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SO HI AFTER 2 DAYS OF NO INTERNET OR TV WHATSOEVER MY WIFI PROVIDER IS FINALLY STABLE FUCK YEAH (For now at least, but it happened so suddenly I couldn't tell anyone. Y'all I was so LONELY ;o; )
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gallusrostromegalus · 3 months ago
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Move To A Darker Place
This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.
---
Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.
My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God.  He taught himself how to use his smartphone.  Internationally.
So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.
It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity. 
“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”
The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.
a.k.a: A Selfie.
“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.
Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.
“Oh. You should have said so.”  Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.
Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.
“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid.  My father is a bit
 cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.
Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution:  He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.
But I digress.
After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.
And here is where the real trouble began.
See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose.  While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.
He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada.  He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.
He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.
She looked back at him, and farted.
“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her. 
She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.
So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.
The System thought about it for a few moments.
Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.
“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”
He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.
Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.
“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.
“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.
Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System.  It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”.  He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.
As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.
Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.
“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.
“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.
Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room.  It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds.  Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.
Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.
“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled. 
“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.
Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.
“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan.  With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.
This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.
“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.
Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.
“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted.  The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.
Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.
“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.
He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone. 
“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.  
Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape.  She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.
“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.
To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!
“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”
---
I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.
It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times.  Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System.  It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.
“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy!  My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year.  I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”
He handed me the image.
My father was, technically, in the image.  A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.  Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.
“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”
“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing). 
“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”
Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked  car?” he asked suspiciously.
“The very same.” Dad grinned.
“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”
---
I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!
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shotmrmiller · 7 days ago
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god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅀㅀsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.
so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.
he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.
then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.
and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.
a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.
simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.
he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.
you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.
until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-
a date is a date, isn't it?
you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)
hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.
(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)
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bet-on-me-13 · 3 months ago
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The cult of...Danny Fenton?
So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.
He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.
So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.
They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.
They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.
Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.
Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"
After his birthday, they kept up the joke.
It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.
Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!
He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.
Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."
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lokissweater · 22 days ago
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beetlejuice!
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{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}
— “ may you never forget me ” â™Ș àŒ˜â‹†
summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition
 marrying him.
warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)
word count: 19.8k
authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL
.. SHES FREAKY
 SHES ANGSTY
 AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333
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you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.
and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.
it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.
it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.
and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.
and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.
except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.
“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”
you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”
rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.
“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”
you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.
“you’re committing a crime—”
“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”
why wasn’t he listening?
“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.
“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”
“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”
“yeah we won’t! right guys?”
rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.
you never liked his friends.
“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried
”
he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.
“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”
the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.
rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.
and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.
“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.
“yeah.”
his eyes snapped over to you. “
really? yeah right.”
“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”
“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”
“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”
you went to answer but rin beat you to it.
“she’s a psychic
 i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”
“oh my god
” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”
your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”
“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”
“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”
“because they’re old and bored—”
the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.
you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.
rin was everything you wanted at first.
and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and
 vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.
but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.
but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.
you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.
“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.
“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”
“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”
“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”
he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”
you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”
“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”
you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.
you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.
a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.
“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”
“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”
“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”
“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”
you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.
“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”
he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“
“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”
“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”
“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”
“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”
“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”
he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”
“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”
“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”
“i’m not talking about just the watch!”
“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”
you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.
“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”
“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”
you shrugged.
“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”
you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.
it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.
upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.
muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.
and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.
but with each step that you took to get closer
 the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.
your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.
the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—
“boyfriend troubles?”
“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.
you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.
who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—
“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”
sweets?
“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”
he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.
“yup! so dead very dead.”
“o— oh
 okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.
“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”
you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.
“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”
you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.
“but what pretty?”
you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.
“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”
“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”
you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.
“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.
“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”
he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.
“you can help me!”
“help
 you..?” you squeaked.
he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic
 but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”
netherworld— caseworkers— banned—
“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.
you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat
 as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.
so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.
“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”
you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”
he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.
“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”
juno? who’s juno?
“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic
 way more than i already am.”
you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”
“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”
you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.
‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’
they do. wrongfully they do.
and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life
 did that mean you were strange and unusual too?
“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.
“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”
“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”
you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”
“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”
you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.
“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”
he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”
“i don’t know
” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it
 and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”
you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”
“that’s not true.” he mumbled.
your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”
he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”
“what’s not true?”
“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”
you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.
“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”
your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.
“i’ll help you.”
his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”
“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”
“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”
“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”
“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.
“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”
“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”
you pulled back a little. “hm?”
“i can’t tell you my name.”
“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”
“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”
“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.
“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”
he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.
“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”
“guess what?!” you shrieked.
“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.
you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.
“a bug!”
“what kind?”
“a beetle!”
“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”
“your name starts with beetle?!—”
he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.
“
orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”
“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.
“beetle drinking orange juice?”
he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”
“beetle drinking juice?”
“nope.”
“beetle drinking orange?”
“colder.”
“beetlejuice?—”
“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”
“beetlejuice.”
“uh huh uh huh—”
“beetle— mmph!”
a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.
except it wasn’t rin.
it was the maitlands.
“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me
 don’t.”
“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad
 hell we don’t even know for sure—”
barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”
take advantage?
you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.
“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”
your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”
she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker
 we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”
“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”
adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.
oh god.
had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?
“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.
“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”
your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”
“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living
 and they didn’t even know about it.”
“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”
he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.
“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”
you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”
“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”
“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”
“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”
“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”
he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.
“that’s
 that’s true.”
you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.
“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said
 but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”
you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”
“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house
 but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we
 horrendously though.”
“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”
barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever
 so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”
“and i still can y’know
” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”
“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”
“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son
” adam finished off.
and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now
 the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.
because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles
 but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.
that was their great beyond. their home.
“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”
“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”
“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”
“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”
“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that
 mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”
beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”
he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”
“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”
your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin
 but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.
and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.
“rin!”
he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.
“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”
“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”
“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”
“get out.”
he snorted. “uh huh—”
“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”
“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”
“i’m calling the cops.”
“what?!”
a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”
you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”
“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”
your jaw dropped.
rin was being meaner than usual.
“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”
he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.
“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”
“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”
“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.
“get— off me—”
“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”
“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”
a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.
“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”
“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”
“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”
“who the fuck is achilles?!”
the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.
“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.
but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.
“read a book your stupid is showing.”
he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.
beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”
they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.
“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”
beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.
you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.
you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.
“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”
“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”
“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”
your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.
“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”
“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”
you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”
“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”
“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”
you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.
“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”
“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”
you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.
“huh?!”
“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself
 but if you marry me i’m a free man!”
“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”
“marry me.”
“but i!—”
“marry me that’s my condition.”
“hold on!—”
rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.
“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”
beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.
“which of you should i gobble up right now
 i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”
“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”
“—and i’ll save rin for the very end
 best for last right?!”
they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.
“please man!—”
“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”
“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you
 how’s that sound?!”
“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”
“we’re sorry dear god!—”
“y/n!—”
“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”
“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet
 like a little ferris wheel! heh.”
you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.
“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”
“y/n, it seems like you understand me
 you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”
you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“
“so be my wife then.”
“beetlejuice!”
“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”
“no!— well— just—”
“is it because i’m dead?”
“put them down and i’ll consider it!”
“yes ma’am!”
the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.
and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.
he smiled warmly at you.
“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.
“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”
you kindly nodded.
“sweetheart, are you alright?”
you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.
“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless
 they couldn’t see us.”
you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”
“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing
” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done
 he was so aggressive and we were worried
”
your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.
“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid
” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”
“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”
“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”
beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.
“so are you my little wife?”
“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”
“adam! barbara!”
a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.
was he
 was he hiding you? what for?
“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”
oh.
“zip it bozo.”
from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.
“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”
“i know i know we’re sorry
 we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”
“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno
 he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”
“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”
eternity?
oh god no.
“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”
“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”
“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.
“pretty please?”
“no.”
“with a cherry on top?”
“absolutely not.”
“not even probation?—”
“not even probation! you’re gone!”
your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.
you didn’t want him to go
 not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.
you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many other souls would also kill for?
hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.
had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?
why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—
“pretty?”
you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.
“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.
“you grabbed me baby?”
“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah
”
he turned around fully.
“why?”
“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.
“because i thought we were getting married
”
beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.
“i don’t— i don’t understand—”
“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”
“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”
you nodded. “mhm! i am!”
“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay
”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”
you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you
 i wanna set you free.”
you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.
“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.
“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see
” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “
 and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”
“you’re so pure
” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”
he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.
beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.
“i think we’re meant to be.”
you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.
“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”
he laughed and shook his head.
you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.
“i have a question.”
his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”
“is your name really beetlejuice?”
he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.
“it’s
” he swallowed. “it’s not.”
“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”
“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”
“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel
 you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”
beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.
“that woman doesn’t care baby
 so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”
you giggled.
“so what’s your name then?”
“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”
your eyes narrowed.
“why won’t you tell me your name?”
“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”
“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”
“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”
you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.
“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”
“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t
 i can’t tell you my name.”
your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”
“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so
 strained.
“it’s not their contract, but my contract
 with you.”
you froze.
“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”
he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.
“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”
“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”
he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”
“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.
“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”
your heart dropped.
“because we have
 and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”
he swallowed hard.
“
 it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”
you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.
slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.
“but i want to remember you
” you murmured. “
please let me.”
his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.
but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name
the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.
he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.
“satoru.”
something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.
satoru gojo.
there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.
and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.
and you saw how much he cared about you.
how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred
 a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.
you saw how you fell in love too.
and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.
but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.
satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.
he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.
especially when your parents died.
satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.
and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.
but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.
the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.
satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.
you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.
because of satoru.
and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.
except it never did.
because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.
and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.
but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.
satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.
because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—
all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.
it was always for you.
and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless
 absolutely broke you.
it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.
“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—
you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.
“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”
“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”
“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”
he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.
“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”
his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.
“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”
you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.
he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.
satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.
no matter how much he wanted it.
no matter how much you wanted it.
this is what fate had decided for the two of you.
“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”
he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.
“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”
besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.
“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”
“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty
” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”
you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.
“i wanted to see you happy
” satoru finished off.
“was i?”
he dropped his hands and frowned.
“were you?”
“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why
 like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”
you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.
“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone
 and i had accepted that too
 only this entire time i did have someone. you.”
and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.
because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.
“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru
. even if it hurts me.”
he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry
 i thought you were better off forgetting.”
a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.
but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.
you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.
“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”
you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.
“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”
“i’ll always love you.”
he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.
but you were.
it would be stupid not to be.
you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.
but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?
“toru.”
he hummed.
“do you remember our first kiss?”
“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”
“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”
he bit his bottom lip and smiled.
“you think so?”
“i do.”
he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.
“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”
he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.
“how the fuck—”
he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.
“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”
“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”
“you know what else would be cool?”
“what?”
“if you gave me a little kiss.”
you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.
“you want a kiss toru?”
“uh huh.”
“how bad— mmph!—”
satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.
and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.
he suddenly pulled away, breathless.
“sweets?”
“yeah?”
“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”
you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”
“did you meet him after i died?”
you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes
 and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”
“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”
“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again
 even though i shouldn’t have.”
you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.
“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.
“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”
he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.
“hmmm
”
you giggled. “what toru?”
he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.
“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”
you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”
“and you know what else sweets?”
you quirked a little brow. “what?”
“i’m gonna make you forget!”
“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“
satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.
he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.
“did you let him touch you pretty?”
“t—touch?—”
“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”
“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”
“did you let him fuck you.”
your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little
 guilty.
“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”
satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.
“toru?—”
“why can’t i make you forget
 hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.
“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby
”
“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”
he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”
you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.
“i would’ve if i remembered.”
“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.
“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”
your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”
“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”
satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.
he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.
“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”
“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”
“tell me what you remember then sweets
”
he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.
“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.
“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.
“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”
“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”
“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.
something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.
“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”
you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.
“anything else you missed baby?”
arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.
“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”
a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.
“my god
” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”
with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.
“you’re so needy.”
you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.
“i take it back—”
“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“
he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.
“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”
“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.
“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me
 living or dead i don’t care.”
you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.
“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”
you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.
he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”
“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”
“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”
“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”
his unbeating heart soared.
“you love me?”
“uh— hic!— uh huh—“
“even when i’m dead?”
you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.
“perfect my sweet little thing
” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”
you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.
“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”
“yes! please please—”
“oh fucking well.”
he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.
“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”
satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.
“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good
”
you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.
“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”
you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.
“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”
satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.
you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.
“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”
he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”
you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.
“i’m serious you know.”
he raised a brow. “about what?”
“about marrying you. even more so now.”
and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.
because satoru was keeping something else from you
 a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.
“what toru?”
“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”
his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.
this was fine. this was okay.
right?
“white or black.”
you tilted your head. “what?”
“you’ll see
 but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”
a slow giddy smile grew on your face.
“black.”
satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.
you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.
it was heavenly.
your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.
“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.
“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”
and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning
 and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.
“are we
” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”
he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name
 we’re in winter river baby.”
you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.
this was wrong
 and satoru knew it.
but he pushed it to the back of his head again.
“we are gathered here today—”
“shit!”
you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.
“sorry!” you laughed. “is he
 is he okay?”
“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”
his wife.
you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.
“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”
he shouldn’t do this to you.
“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”
he can’t— he can’t build a life with you
 can he?
he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.
“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”
this is wrong.
but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“i do.”
“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”
for as long as you both shall live.
satoru can’t live.
“i d—”
“stop.”
you froze.
“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”
“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”
the look in his eyes was
 odd, and it only further confused you.
“i don’t—”
“i can’t let you marry me baby.”
your heart dropped.
“what?”
“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true
” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”
oh fuck.
“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.
“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me
”
he gnawed at his lip.
“but i’m killing you.”
your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.
kill you?
“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets
 i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”
satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.
but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.
this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.
and though it took forever for satoru to accept it
 you and him were simply not meant to be.
for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.
“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”
the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.
“this is her choice juno!—”
“she wants to let her do it!—”
“the kid’s just in love!—”
“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.
“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”
“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”
“i—i know—”
“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”
“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”
“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause
 i just told her now.”
silence.
“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”
“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”
“you’re doing what you did before!—”
“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now
 i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”
he turned to you.
“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”
you felt tears prickle at your eyes.
“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man
 i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”
“toru—”
“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.
she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”
you both solemnly nodded.
“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”
juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.
“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive
 satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”
you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.
“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this
 but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”
she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.
“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”
either path is difficult.
to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?
but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak
. you had lived it for three years.
were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?
you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.
it was almost easy
 you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.
your path was satoru.
“we’re getting married.”
“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”
“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”
“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”
“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”
“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t let you do this.”
tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.
“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”
“no
” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that
”
“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”
“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”
you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.
“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me
 i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”
“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”
“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t
 and i’m sorry.”
“toru stop it—”
“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”
“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”
“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”
“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”
“satoru—”
juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.
“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”
“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”
“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”
“no—”
“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff
 travel.”
you were supposed to do all of that with him.
“satoru no listen to me!—”
“i love you.”
“stop!—”
satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.
he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.
“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”
juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.
you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.
you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.
and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.
“hey— y/n?”
you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.
you were back in your dorm.
“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”
you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.
“and what are you wearing?”
your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.
“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”
your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.
your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.
you hoped he was there.. in the attic.
you hoped to god that he was.
reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.
satoru.
and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.
except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.
you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.
walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.
you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.
was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?
you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.
and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it
 not wanting you.
but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.
and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.
you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents
 more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.
you felt helpless
 and maybe satoru was right.
if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes
 maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.
maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.
after an entire month, you had given up.
and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass
 six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.
you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought
 not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.
there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.
“don’t move on.”
you stiffened.
that voice
 was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—
“don’t move on from me please
 and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”
you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.
was it actually him?
“how are you
” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”
“juno gave me a hall pass
” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”
you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.
you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”
“because i can’t stay away from you.”
your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.
and satoru was doing the same.
“i started to sense you distancing from me and
 and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead
 but i was literally ill sweets.”
you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.
“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”
“you sent me away.”
“i did baby
” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”
“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”
“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”
“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it
 it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”
you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.
“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”
“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”
“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”
he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.
“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and
 pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”
your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.
“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”
you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have
 because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby
 it means you and me.”
satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.
because yes satoru was dead
 but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.
but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.
but warmth from your soul. from who you are.
that’s what life was to him
 and what life was to you.
satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.
where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.
but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.
satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.
but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.
giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either
 you feeling lighter in exchange actually
 happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time
 no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.
because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.
it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die
 but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.
fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.
and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.
because through sickness and in health
 death could not do you both apart.
you and satoru.
together for eternity.
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a lovely and incredibly beautiful fanart of this fic can be found here by @courtneedsleep !! <33
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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toxicanonymity · 2 months ago
Text
the downward spiral (one shot)
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PAIRING: stepdad!Joel x f!reader
WORD COUNT: 3k
WARNINGS: 18+ smut, stepcest, jealousy, possessive Joel. dubcon if you squint. Manhandling, Unsafe PIV, improvised toy, creampie. Brief allusion to Joel as your father figure. Hair can be pulled, can sit on Joel's lap.
NOTES: title is a nine inch nails album. reader has an apartment, but she's visiting for the holidays.
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—---
In the kitchen, Joel listens to the coffee maker and checks the time. Leaning back against the counter, he opens his New York Times Games app. He’s contemplating what to start with in WORDLE. “CUTIE,” he types.  
A snapchat notification from you pops up, making him giddy. He adjusts his glasses, and his thumb hovers over the notification. If it’s erotic, he’d prefer to save it for a more private moment, but not now. He’s been waiting for you to wake up, and he’d rather see you first.  The inner battle furrows his brow, then he watches himself tap the notification. His face relaxes at the sight of you, and his cheeks warm with affection. The shot is pretty innocent, but there’s a look in your eye just for him. And your lips are parted. Ugh, your perfect mouth. 
“Merry xmas eve,” it says. 36 hours since he last touched you. 
A shadow moves on the stairs, and he looks up from his phone to see you watching him, biting your lip with a little smile. You clasp your fingers behind yourself and stretch, then finish descending the steps.   
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” his hoarse voice greets you, then he clears his throat. He saves your picture to the chat, then slips his phone into the pocket of his gray sweats. He runs a hand through his hair, then braces his hands on the counter behind himself, leaning back as casually as he can, letting you know you’re in control. 
You take your time approaching, and his eyes lock with yours when you’re close enough for him to smell your shampoo. He takes a deep breath through his nose. You lift your arms to waist height as you close the gap between your bodies. You wrap your arms around his strong middle, and he exhales as warmth radiates from your chest. Your body presses gently into his. Warmth. Comfort. You’re made of joy. 
He hugs you loosely, and you rest your head on him. His chest vibrates with a low, satisfied, “Mm.” He presses the lightest kiss onto the crown of your head. 
“Mm,” you echo. 
His thumb brushes the nape of your neck, and his other hand rests lower on your back, fingers spread, rubbing a slow aimless pattern. You smell just as warm and cozy as you feel. Your hips push forward, making him flinch, but . Warmth rushes to his crotch, and you don’t pull away when it moves against you. He swallows, trying not to push back on you. 
“It’s ok,” you whisper. As he relaxes, his bulge nudges you, and there’s no mistaking his desire. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, 
“Don’t be,” you reply.  
God damn, you’re making this hard. 
The doorbell rings. “Prolly a delivery,” Joel mutters, and his thumb brushes behind your ear.   He savors every moment with you. 
A few seconds later, there’s a bunch of rustling around outside the front door. 
“Alright,” Joel grumbles. 
“Lotta packages out hea,” a Boston accent is heard through the door. Oh, great. It’s your neighbor down the street. The newly single one.  
You start to pull away. Joel’s chest begins to cave in, but the feeling is quickly muffled by irritation. “The fuck is he doin’ here?” Joel grumbles to himself, then accuses you, “That why you’re down here?”  With every muscle in his body tensing, he scratches the back of his neck. 
Your head tilts in disapproval. “Would you keep it together? Please?” 
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“You sure? You good?” you ask. 
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and nods. 
“You’re doing good,” you reassure him, placing a hand on his chest. 
The doorbell rings again, and Joel’s nose twitches. “Get outta here,” he nods toward the stairs. “Now.”
“Chill, I’m going.” 
He waits for you to get all the way upstairs before answering the door. 
—
There’s Harold, crouched over, picking up one last package, trying not to spill his iced coffee in the process. He stands up straight and smiles with his bottom teeth, proud that he hasn’t dropped anything.  His navy, quarter-zip sweater is a little tight for his arms. “Happy holidays,” he says. 
Joel has one hand on the frame, and one holding the side of the door. His body blocks the entry.
They look at each other for a moment. Harold’s tired eyes fall on Joel’s gray sweatpants, tighter than they were ten minutes ago. With a friendly wink in his voice, he asks, “Catch ya at a bad time?” 
“Yeah,” Joel responds flatly. 
When Harold doesn’t leave, Joel bites the bullet and accepts the packages. 
“They were all out here,” Harold mutters as Joel takes them one by one. 
It would’ve been easier for Joel to bring them in himself rather than indulge this ridiculous balancing act. Joel rolls his eyes as he puts the packages down on the floor inside. As he stands up, he glances around and sees no sign of you. Good. He turns toward Harold and grips the side of the door again, ready to close it. 
Harold is standing there with a dumb smile and asks, “How ya doin’, man?”
“Not bad,” Joel forces, silently willing the neighbor to leave already. 
“Good, good,” Harold mutters to himself. “Me too,” he offers without Joel asking. “Well, ya know,” he adds with a defeated shrug. “All things considered.”  Right, his divorce. 
“Daughtah home?” Harold asks. 
As soon as Joel translates it to daughter, his nostrils flare. His blood pressure shoots up. His vision blurs, and his glasses do nothing. He’d like to kill this man. He takes a deep, calming breath and sizes him up in silence. Has he always been that tall? “Just ran into ya wife,” Harold gestures down the street with his thumb, bicep straining his sweater. “She said your daughter might wanna come to the–” 
“No,” Joel interrupts him. 
“New year’s party,” Harold mumbles. 
Joel unclenches his jaw long enough to say, “Kinda in the middle’a somethin’.” 
“Told ya wife I’d invite her,” Harold explains. “Only take a sec.” 
“She’s not dressed,” Joel blurts out. He stops short of clarifying that he’s not your father, either. He wants to be everything. He has to be every man you could ever need, and he cares less and less about who knows it. 
“Heh,” a faint blush rises to Harold’s face with a flash of his eyebrows. He rocks his plastic cup, making the half-melted ice jumble around. 
“bye, Harold,” Joel closes the door in his face, then watches through the window as this asshole walks down the driveway and raises his cup to a passing car. 
-
Joel steps back and cracks his neck in an unsuccessful attempt to release some tension, but it’s only getting worse. His whole body is wound up and ready to fight.   
He can't let you see him like this. He’s supposed to be keeping it together. 
He goes back to the kitchen and steadies his hand to pour half a cup of coffee. He holds the cup, watching the bubbles disappear. 
The bath turns on upstairs, and Joel groans inwardly at the \ urge to charge up the stairs and ravish you. He has a vision of you sitting on the side of the tub, nude. You reach back and dangle your fingers into the water to test the temperature. Every muscle in his body wants to bust through that door and take you. 
Another fantasy he’d never have the balls to act on. Right? 
He puts down his coffee and takes off his glasses, resting them face-up on the kitchen island. He eyes the stairs, then shakes his head at himself. His hands brace on the edge of the island and he straightens his arms, triceps stretching his white tee. Leaning forward, he hangs his head and closes his eyes, calming himself. He stands there and breathes for a minute. 
“Keep it together,” he whispers, but he can hardly hear himself over his inner caveman.
Kill. 
Breed. 
Kill. 
“Fuck,” he curses.
—-------
The water is loud enough that you don’t hear Joel’s heavy steps thudding up the stairs. When the door bursts open, you jump.  Your eyes widen as Joel shuts the door behind himself. He doesn’t look at you yet, despite your nakedness.  He braces one hand on the middle of the door and the other rests lightly on his hip. He looks down, still trying to conjure restraint. 
All you can say is, “Joel?”  
His muscular back flexes rhythmically under his slutty white tee as he catches his breath. After a few seconds, his head turns enough to look back at you. His eyes are dark. 
“Tell me to leave,” he commands, with his voice deep and breathy. 
Your lips part, but you say nothing. You scan his body, lingering on his pumped up muscles. 
He takes his hand off the door and turns to face you head on. His fingers twitch at his sides as his dark gaze roves your body. His head tilts forward, casting a shadow over his eyes as he looks at your face again. “Tell me to leave, honey.”  When you don’t show any sign of answering, he steps toward the bathtub, chest heaving. His brows knit and he slightly shakes his head.
You sit there captivated by his energy. The drum in your neck beats harder as he gets closer. Your chest bubbles with excitement. 
He looms over you, and you’re lifting your head up to look at him when his large hand seizes your arm and he pulls you to your feet. He wraps his other arm around you from behind and grabs between your legs. Grunting under the roar of the water, he manhandles you toward the double vanity. 
He gropes your breasts, still holding you by the pussy. He abruptly pulls you tighter against him and the hard bulge in his sweatpants makes you throb. 
After releasing your breasts, but not your pussy, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him in the mirror. 
“Last chance, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear.  
You answer, “Do it or leave.”
He releases your jaw.  “Uggh,” he groans in painful desire. Emboldened by your encouragement, he slowly slides his flattened fingers along your slit, finding you wet.  “This is mine.” his stiffening cock nudges you through his sweatpants. When you don’t reply, his voice gets firmer. “Say it.”
“It’s yours. I’m yours.” 
“Yeah,” he nods. 
He bends you over the counterspace between your sinks. A sweep of your forearm sends an unplugged hair dryer, a bottle of lotion, and God knows what else into the sink you barely use. 
Meanwhile, Joel has pulled down his sweats. He holds his hard cock, and his rocks onto the balls of his feet and back. He places a hand on your lower back. You tilt your hips as he lines himself up. His tip nudges into the right spot, pushing at your dripping hole. Then he grabs your hips and shoves into you with a sigh.  You grunt at the sweet burn of his sudden intrusion. 
“Yeah,” he breathes. “gotta take it.” 
He only waits a second before withdrawing all but the tip, then slamming into you harder. He withdraws again. A bruising grip on your hips pulls you back as he slides into you, easier.  
The grip of his hands eases up as he buries his cock in you faster. He opts to hold you down. With your breasts smashed against the marble, he grunts as he fucks it all out on you. Your insides bloom with arousal, gripping his cock, pulling at him for more, deeper. Your heart tingles with exhilaration. 
His soft affection is a memory. A wild passion possesses him instead, evident with each thrust and grunt. This primal need has him desperate to own you from the inside out. 
“Ughh,” he groans, snapping his hips. 
You twitch and moan, muffled by the loud water. 
He grunts at the sound and fucks you harder. 
He needs to pour all of him in there. You have to be his. 
He slows down only to wrap a hand around your hair. His firm grip makes your scalp tingle. “Look at me,” he pants. As he begins to lift his fist, you push yourself up on your forearm and look up at the mirror with your breath fogging it. He drops your hair and pulls your upper body closer to his so you can see. 
You brace hands on the counter and marvel at this spellbound wreck of yourself.  Your movements aren’t your own. You’re controlled only by the rhythm of his cock and his hands. They make you feel small.  
 “Me,” he commands, and your eyes snap to him.
It’s the face of a man possessed. His eyes are wild and demanding. He grits his teeth. His neck vein bulges. His hair bounces with each unforgiving thrust. His hips move with a purpose -  deeper. More. More of you. His. Fuck. 
It’s the first time you've met his wild man. You've seen glimpses in the way he lashes out in jealousy. And his intensity has always been evident. But you didn't imagine a whole feral form of him. The way his veins bulge, the power of his body. You never fully noticed the build of his chest or how a v muscle cuts through his tanline. This has all been there, all along.  Every time he’s snapped at you, it's been this guy. 
“fuck, Joel,” you breathe. 
His mouth falls open with a silent moan. About to cum, he grabs your electric toothbrush and races to turn it on. He presses the smooth barrel of your toothbrush against you, with the bottom nearly touching his cock. Your lips part, and your eyelids fall. 
He bottoms out hard, and his shaft twitches against your snug insides as you’re vibrated from the outside. He twitches bigger, harder, and sighs with relief as his seed spills into you. A moment later, another burst, and the warmth spreads in your depths. 
He turns the vibration up. “Give it to me,” he demands. “C’mon, baby. It’s mine.” He holds you tight with another deep thrust. 
A massive throb of his cock sends you over the edge and releases another long rope. The climax seizes you, making you arch your back, grinding against the vibration. “I got ya,” he breathes, then moans with another shot of cum. Your nipples peak. A second later, your spasming pussy squeezes another burst out of him. 
There’s more, and more, until warmth is trickling down your inner thigh and his arms are relaxing around you as you finish. When your body relaxes, he turns off the toothbrush and rolls it onto the counter unceremoniously.  
-
As you catch your breath, Joel hugs you from behind, and his eyes soften. He buries his mouth in your neck, then kisses you on the head and glances at the mirror with a puppy dog look, with a gentle thrust deeper, making you spasm. 
He growls quietly.  God, he’s hot. 
“You okay?” He whispers above your ear. 
“Yeah,” you smile, looking down and tracing his knuckles. 
The bathwater is almost overflowing. Joel slides out of you and pulls up his sweatpants. Cum trickles all the way down your leg to the tile floor. Always such a mess. With a softening tent in his pants he goes and turns the water off, then checks the temp. He reaches in to unplug the drain and lower the water level, then asks, “that good?” 
“Yeah.” 
He sits on the edge of the garden tub, scratching one side of his scruff and manspreading as you approach.
“Hey. C’mere,” he says softly. 
You stand between his legs completely naked, and he runs his hands down your sides, then pulls you into his lap, helping you straddle him.  
“Sure you're good?” He asks. 
“Yes,” you reassure him. “That was amazing.”
He holds you in his arms, then adjusts your weight so his bulge is against your crotch, and your breath hitches. You’ve only come once. You could go for more, but it's not smart. 
He buries his head in your chest, then looks up, and pulls you down for a kiss that starts soft. His tongue parts your lips then he's trying to drink you in.  He pulls you tighter, kissing you hard, grinding you on him in a way that could have you quickly lose control. You're leaking all over him. 
Your lips break away. You cup his cheek, give him a peck, and he asks, “too much?” 
You nod and whisper, “we’re playing with fire.” 
He lets you out of his lap, then holds out his hand and you use it for balance to get into the tub. 
Your voices are hushed. “You want a bath bomb or somethin’?”
“You know about bath bombs?” You tease him. 
“Eucalyptus all the way,” he answers, then crouches down to an under-sink cabinet. 
“Linen closet,” you redirect him. 
He picks a rose one and fumbles with the wrapping until he comes back and drops it in. He sits on the side of the tub and his thumb brushes your forehead. 
“You should go,” you gently urge him. 
“Yeah,” he agrees, and leans down for a last kiss. “Can I get ya anything else?” 
You shake your head no.
“silicone Joel's water resistant,”  he offers, pointing back toward your bedroom. 
You crack a smile and tell him, “Get outta here. Now.”
------
THANK YOU FOR READING
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