#god it's weird thinking about how the last time i met her less than a year later she'd be dead

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part nine (chapter 25) previous part • my masterlist

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: none!

Lily

Paige and the team left early yesterday morning for their game at Minnesota today. Travelling for game days, unfortunately, wasn't part of my job so Kayla, Madison, Hannah, Kelsey and I were all lounging on the couch, each tucked under a blanket, excitedly waiting for tip off.

After agreeing to go home with Paige for Thanksgiving, it was decided that I would travel there after classes finished tomorrow and Paige would pick me up from the airport. After Thanksgiving, Paige had to fly directly to the Cayman Islands for a tournament so I'd be flying back to campus alone.

Now the season had started, I had to get used to Paige being away more often, I didn't like it but it was inevitable and it just means that the time we do spend together is even more special.

"Are you all packed for Minnesota, Lils?" Madison asks me from her place at the end of the couch.

"Pretty much, just need to add the last few bits but I'll do that before I leave in the morning." I tell my roommate.

"I can't believe you're going home with your girlfriend for Thanksgiving break! Who would have thought it?" Kelsey says from beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder, "Single Sisters was extremely short lived." She laughs referring to the pact we made when we first met.

"I know! It feels weird but also right at the same time." I say thinking about my relationship with Paige and how it was never my intention to have a girlfriend again so soon but life and love works in mysterious ways and I'm so glad it worked out like this.

The conversation faded out as the game between UConn and Minnesota started and all of our attention was fully focused on the TV as familiar faces in white jerseys moved about the court.

Kayla had kindly offered to drive me to the airport to catch my flight and we had just arrived.

"Thank you for dropping me, K." I say as she pulls into departures parking.

"No worries, have a safe flight and enjoy Minnesota." She smiles her signature smile and I hug her over the console before getting out of the car.

After leaving Kayla, I immediately put my headphones on and shuffle my playlist. Controversially, I really like airports. I would always arrive earlier than necessary to ensure I didn't need to rush. I enjoyed picking out snacks for the journey and most of all, I loved knowing that I could be in my own world, listening to music, staring out of the window for the entirety of the upcoming flight.

After passing through security and buying my favourite snacks, Jolly Ranchers and Gold Fish, I just sat and patiently waited at my gate for boarding to begin.

hi pretty girl

have a safe flight, cant wait to see you

love you

hi p

boarding is just about to start

ive missed you so much

see you soon, i love you

I smiled at the text conversation between Paige and me. I felt extremely grateful for how my life had done a complete one eighty spin from a few months ago. I was happy, I had a beautiful girlfriend who loved me without reservations, I had genuine friends that supported me, I had a job that I adored and I wanted to be alive and stay alive. If I could go back at tell past Lily that, I know for a fact, she'd call bullshit.

The flight was quick, less than three hours and once we were up in the air it felt like we began our descent almost immediately.

I had collected my luggage, it wasn't big as I was only here for a few days, and was making my way through arrivals where Paige said she would be waiting.

"Oh my god." I say under my breath as Paige finally comes into view. She's stood a few feet away from me, looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair is down, tucked behind both ears and from the slight wave in it, I can tell it's been recently washed and left to dry naturally. She's dressed casually, in a grey tracksuit and Air Max 95s but it's the huge bouquet of flowers in her hand that has my jaw on the floor.

It takes a moment for Paige to register that I'm walking towards her but when she does, her face breaks out into a big grin and she takes the few strides needed to close the gap between us.

"Hi babe." I say melting into my girlfriends hug, taking in her scent that I've been deprived of the last few days.

"Hi my pretty girl. How was the flight?" Paige asks with me still in her arms.

"Super quick but I'm tired." I respond. Admittedly I'd not slept well the past few days, sleeping alone, without Paige wasn't something I was used to, so her being gone definitely felt foreign.

"You can sleep in the car. Oh and these are for you, obviously." She says handing me the bunch of flowers. They were a mix of pink and white dahlias with the odd stem of leaves, they were beautiful.

One thing about Paige, she was the best flower giver. She knew the perfect time to get them and every bouquet I've received from her and has been filled with the most pretty flowers.

Paige took my bags and I carried the flowers as I followed her to her car. She opened the passenger door for me before loading my bags into her trunk. I reached into the back seats and carefully placed my flowers down.

"Here." Paige said getting into the driver's seat handing me a blanket. Her blanket. Her favourite blanket that she slept with every night in Connecticut.

"Thank you." I say covering myself over and resting my head on the window. The blanket smelt like Paige and even though she wasn't, it felt like she was hugging me, it was comforting.

One of Paiges hands rests on my leg as the other steered the car as we began driving to her family home. My eyes fluttered shut, feeling safe and content and most of all loved beyond belief.

Paige

Having Lily here in the house I grew up in felt natural as soon as we stepped inside. My heart warmed watching her interact with my family, especially Drew.

They were currently stood side by side at the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up to their elbows as they took it in turns pouring in various ingredients and mixing together the cake batter.

I kept my distance and just observed as the two most important people in my life bonded and got to know each other.

"Paigey actually ruined Thanksgiving last year." My little brother tells Lily and she laughs.

"Really? What did she do?"

"She said she was going to make the best cake ever and nobody was allowed to help and I didn't eat any candy all day because she said her cake was so good." Drew reminisced on last year, "And then we tried it and it was actually the worse cake ever! I had to spit it in the trash."

"Hey, it's not my fault I confused the sugar with salt." I interject, poking my brother in the side causing him to giggle and in turn fling his arms up to protect himself,  but as he does a dollop of cake batter flies off the spoon and lands on Lilys face.

Once Drew realises what he's done he quickly apologises to Lily but I can't hold back my laughter.

"It's OK Drew, no harm done." Lily says with a sweet smile but when her eyes flick to me, she's glaring intensely. "Funny, Bueckers?" She asks raising her brows.

"Just a bit, yeah." I say still giggling.

"Oh OK, so you won't mind if I just," she dips her hand into the batter mixture and before I can register what she's about to do, she smears it across my cheek, "do that."

As quick as my giggles stop, Lilys and Drews start and I'm too busy focused on Lily to notice Drew also dipping his hand into the mixture before wiping in down my arm.

"Oh I get it. It's two against one." I say slightly offended my own brother would choose Lily over me but at the same time loving it because them having a good relationship means a whole lot to me.

"Drew, I think we should run." Lily says being able to read my facial expression perfectly and both of them set off running away from me but I grab the full bowl and go after them.

"I'm literally an athlete, I'm going to catch you guys." I say as I follow them.

Drew is running at full speed whilst screaming and dodging pieces of furniture so he doesn't trip and Lily isn't far behind him, also dodging furniture but laughing so much it's slowing her down.

I change my tatic and go back on myself knowing that Drew and Lily will walk or...run into me and I'm right.

"Ha! Got you!" I triumph as Drew unknowingly runs right into my path and I scoop him up with one swift movement and with my hand already covered in cake mix, I swipe it across his face.

"Lily, save me!" Drew shouts in my arms and he kicks and wriggles his body trying to get me to release him.

Lily's by our side seconds later, "Don't worry, I've got you!" She reassures and lunges for the bowl picking up the spoon and flicking it in my direction, sending mixture straight into my face.

"OK that's it!" I say adjusting Drew so he's over my shoulder and I run full speed at Lily.

She lets out a screech but she can't move fast enough so I manage to hook my free arm around her waist, "Now everyone say Paige is the best." I say gripping onto both of them.

"Paige is the best." They both mummble knowing they've been beaten.

"And Paige always wins, she never loses." I try my luck.

"OK, that's pushing it P." Lily says and she manages to wriggle out of my grasp so I place Drew down too.

"Truce?" Lily asks out stretching her hand, "Truce." I reply shaking her hand and then my brothers.

We salvage what's left of the cake batter and pour it into a tin before it goes into the oven to bake.

"OK, go clean yourself up buddy." I say to Drew and point him in the direction of the bathroom before Lily and I start to tidy the kitchen.

"He really likes you, you know?" I say to Lily as she washes dishes at the sink and I wipe down the surfaces.

"I love him." Lily says and my heart bursts, "Being an only child, I feel like I missed out on something. I wish I had siblings to have these moments with."

"You can have these moments with us. My family is your family, Lils." I say going over and standing behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my head on her shoulder, "Thank you, P. I love you." She says spinning around so we're face to face.

“I love you." I lean in and press a kiss to her lips, "Although, you're slightly sticky." I say as I pull away.

I pick up a cloth, "Come here." I motion for Lily to come over to the kitchen island, she does and I lift her up onto the counter.

I gently wipe away any left over batter residue on Lilys face and from my place inbetween her legs, I'm taken back to the night in my bathroom after the frat party.

I think about how much Lily and I have been through since then and how much my love for her has grown and I can only hope it continues that way.

"What are you thinking about beautiful?" Lily asks cupping my face with her hands.

"You. Me. Us. How much I love you and want you in my life forever."

"You've got me Paige. In everyway." She says pulling me closer and crashing her lips to mine. My hands instinctively rest on her thighs and slowly make their way up to her waist. I feel her groan into my mouth at my touch so I deepen the kiss, making it needier, sloppier. Lily's legs are around my waist and her hands are in my hair and it's a feeling I want to bottle and save for later because I know my little brother will be back in the room at any moment.

I reluctantly pull away, "Drew will be back any second." I say and right on cue the boy walks back into the kitchen.

He looks at Lily and me and the way we're positioned, Lily still perched on the counter top and me inbetween her legs, hands on her thighs and his head tilts to one side and I know he's about to say something.

"Paigey, are you going to marry Lily and have babies?" He asks full of innocence but Lily and I almost choke.

"We're still really young right now buddy." I try and answer as diplomatically as possible.

"What about when you're bigger, like mom and dad?" He continues to push the topic.

"Well, don't tell anyone," Drew nods rapidly in agreement as I speak, "but if Lily will have me, I'll happily put a ring on it and make her a mommy." I say cheekily squeezing Lilys thigh, earning a shove from her.

"Your sister is one of a kind, you know that Drew?" Lily ask jumping off the counter.

"Uh huh." Drew agrees and I smile as we all make our way into the living room to inevitably watch another cheesy holiday movie.

Lily

Paiges dad and stepmom had filled the table with the most delicious looking and smelling food I'd even seen. Thanksgiving dinner was not like this back home in Boston, in fact if my mom could avoid cooking all together, she would. I spent a lot of Thanksgivings at Emmas house and Christmases too, as a family we weren't very festive but the Bueckers were the complete opposite.

Paige was sat inbetween Drew and me with their parents opposite us, we each had a small glass of wine - Drew excluded and Paiges dad, Bob raised his glass, "It's tradition that we say something we're thankful for before dinner. Lily, as our guest, would you like to start?"

I look to Paige, slightly put on the spot but I don't know why because I know what I'm thankful for. It's easy, I don't even need to think about it. Paige sends me a small smile and a quick nod and I pick up my glass, "I'm thankful for my life right now and everyone in it. A few months ago things were very different and it was hard for me to see an end to that but going to Connecticut, changed everything. It saved my life. I wanted a fresh start and I got that. I'm thankful for all of the beautiful friends I've made, I'm thankful for the opportunities I get everyday to learn and grow and I'm especially thankful to be sat here. I'm thankful for being welcomed in your family and home as if I've always been a part of it. It truly means the world to me."

Under the table, Paiges hand squeezes my thigh in support and she leans over pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"I think that deserves a toast," Paiges stepmom says and everyone raises their glass of wine, even Drew picks up his juice, "to Lilys fresh start. May she continue to grow and blossom."

We all clink our glasses together and I have to fight back tears.

"And let it be known," Bob says, "anyone who makes my daughter as happy as you is always welcome in this family."

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[eggmeralda]

tiny ramble that accidentally became a long ramble

(also death tw)

I'll still never get over in jan 2023 when I reblogged a post saying "reblog to get good news in late march" and I'm so superstitious that I reblogged it

and then it got to march and things were actually getting kind of better? so I was excited for whatever the good news in late march was gonna be

it got to the last 2 weeks of march and my best friend (housemate that I chose to live with) and his toxic girlfriend (housemate I literally didn't ask for but she moved herself in anyway) were having a Massive argument and I was like 😀😃 oh my goddddddd they're gonna break up this is the good news!!!!!!!!!!!!

then they didn't break up and then like a week later one of my sister's friends died. but while all this loud talking was going on in the room next to me as my sister told my parents about the call she just got from another one of her friends, I was listening to late spring true love by sadness for the first time and it was a banger so I was like 👍 but then I paused the song in the middle of it to see what all the fuss was in the other room, which is when I found out her friend had died

it was obviously like a whole thing for the next few hours but then a bit later I went upstairs and listened to music, and realised I was in the middle of that song. so I finished listening to it, forever to be associated with my sister's friend's death, only to realise near the end it uses basically the exact same melody as it does in that one phineas and ferb episode when ferb sees vanessa while he's in the car and for a few seconds it plays the most glorious melody my 10yo (<- probably) self had ever heard and wished was a real song all those years. and now here it was, almost identical in this song

and I remember feeling so much guilt bc it was like. my sister loses a friend forever and I gain a childhood wish come true for a song I never even thought I'd actually get. but I guess that was the good news in late march. the post never said there wouldn't be any bad news, it just said there will be good news. so it was right I guess.

[therealcocoshady]

POV : You’re Marshall Mathers’s girlfriend and he worships you

Author’s Note : Hi guys ✨. I feel like it’s been a while since I last published something on here. Enjoy this little blurb I wrote. It’s kind of random but I think it’s kind of cute still 💕.

Marshall Mathers doesn’t really enjoy being treated like a king wherever he goes. He knows people give him special treatment out of respect, because he is a huge fucking superstar, but he doesn’t really care for it. He’s just a normal dude at heart, you know ? He likes it when things are kept simple. He’s not a huge fan of the deference, of people practically bowing and curtsying to him because he is Eminem. It’s weird.

But when it comes to you ? People better treat you like the absolute monarch that you are. This man will not accept anything less for the woman he loves. You are his sun. His days start and end with you. You are a deity he worships day and night and people better put some respect on his lady’s name.

He is not giving you the princess treatment. No. This would be good enough for any peasant. If he could, this man would build altars and monuments for you. You are his religion. Your birthday and the anniversary of your first date are holidays he refuse to work on. Doesn’t matter if he’s offered hundreds of thousands of dollars for a ten minutes performance, he simply refuses to be away from you on those days. And if you so much as utter an « I need you », this man will drop absolutely everything. He’s done it in the past and he absolutely has no regrets about flying for five hours on a day off from tour to be able to surprise you at work after you mentioned it was « so hard being away » from him. He is usually mindful about climate change but for you, this man will turn into Taylor « taking my jet for a ten minutes flight » Swift. He literally doesn’t care about the world burning as long as there is a smile on your face. Marshall is not a big spender but for you, he doesn’t care about numbers. His goddess deserves the very best and, thank God for that merch money, he is able to give it to you. He’s not a diva but he demands the very best for you. He couldn’t care less about the water brought to him in his dressing room before a performance. But he makes sure it’s your favorite brand. Same for snacks. If he has to fly someone to another country to get something for you, he absolutely will. In his mind, it’s the least he can do for the woman who blesses him with her presence. He is almost offended when someone fails to greet you properly and he absolutely is when someone straight up disrespects you. If he could, he would fight duels in your honor. Somehow, you managed to turn this stoic individual in the utmost gentleman. When he’s by your side, you will never be caught walking on the wrong side of the pavement, having to hold your own bags. He’d rather die than have that. But you’ll never be caught. Because he protects you like you’re the most precious treasure there is. He’s never caught in your presence, because he doesn’t want to have you plagued by the media and harassed by fans and, yet, he manages to show you off. In private, he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s head over heels with you. Your name is on his lips constantly, and the way he talks about you shows just how devoted he is. At first, people close to him got a little worried. Who were you ? What were your intentions ? It seemed like you were out of nowhere. Walked into Marshall’s life one day and, from then on, he was addicted. They had every reason to be suspicious. And then, they met you. And they understood. They got to witness the genuineness of your interactions, how your eyes mirrored Marshall’s devotion, the way he leaned into your touch so naturally and just how you seemed to heal the parts of him that had been left raw. For the first time in forever, they saw him at peace. Not merely content. Happy. They expected to hate you, because what kind of high maintenance brat has the most stoic man they ever knew act like a puppy ? Only, they couldn’t. It wasn’t quite clear how things worked out between you and Marshall and, in hindsight, it was none of their business. But they couldn’t hate you when it was clear as day that « Em » as most call him, had finally found a safe space. So you won them over as well, and they gave you the princess treatment.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Forgetting

Carol Danvers x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, long distance, fluffy times, explicit language, implied sex (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: It's been nearly a year since you've seen your girlfriend and almost two months since you've heard from her. And you're beginning to worry that she's forgotten about you. After all, the universe is a big place.

357 days. That’s how long it had been since you’d seen your girlfriend. You tried to think of yourself like a military spouse. After all, Carol did used to be in the Air Force. And she did travel to far-away, dangerous places to protect people, with very limited communication for long periods of time. It’s just that her dangerous locations were in other galaxies instead of other countries.

You were used to her being gone or, well, as used to it as you could be. The longer her absence went on, the more used to it you got, but somehow it also became harder. When she first set off on this mission, she’d been in your galaxy, so communications had come faster and with more regularity. Less space and time for them to travel through. But the farther away she got, the longer it took her messages to get to you. You were lucky if you got one email a month.

It wasn’t personal. You knew that. She was far away. Even with the best technology S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide to a civilian, her communication with you was still slow and limited. But, god, you missed her. You missed her laugh. You missed the warmth of her next to you in bed. You missed the way she propped her leg up when she sat down, no matter what kind of chair it was. You hung on every word of her emails, going over them so often you’d memorized them.

It had been two months since Carol’s last email. It was a long time to go without communication, even for her. The irrational part of your brain was desperately worried for her. There’s no telling what kind of high-risk situations she got herself into out there. But you knew that if anyone could handle themselves against all the forces of evil in the universe, it was Carol. You also knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. would have contacted you immediately had anything happened to her.

Another part of your brain–equally irrational but much harder to talk down–worried that Carol had forgotten you. The universe that Carol traversed was huge. Infinite, even. She saw things no one else had ever seen. Met people and experienced cultures that were so different from ours on Earth that we’d never even dream them up. Who’s to say she hadn’t found somewhere–someone–more beautiful than here, with you? She saw entire worlds, the neverending canvas of space and time. How could it possibly be that, of all the things in the known universe, you were the one worth coming home to? You always worried that maybe, this time, you weren’t.

As you climbed into bed, missing, as always, the feeling of Carol’s arms wrapped around you, the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, you once again pulled up her most recent email. From 61 days ago.

Hi, baby. I hope all’s well on Earth. I’m sad I’m missing spring–you know it’s my favorite season. Are there apricots on the tree yet? Or just buds? I’d give an arm for an apricot right now. I’m farther out than normal, so you might not hear from me for a while. One of the Andromedas. 2.7 lightyears away, if you can believe it. It scares me a little to be so far away from you.

I know I’ve said it before, but it gets lonely out here. Sometimes I wish you could come with me, but I know your body wouldn’t handle space-time travel like mine does. Superhero probs. Also, it’s probably not fair for me to make you put your entire life on pause just because I miss you like crazy.

It’s so beautiful out here in a weird, quiet way. I wish you could see it. Yesterday, I passed a pulsar. A star carcass, as I like to call them. They’re these gigantic masses of spinning light that put out radio signals (which might interfere with how quickly you get this, fuck pulsars). You’ve never seen something so big. So big it’s almost hard to believe it’s really there.

Anyway. I’m rambling. I miss you so much. I always miss you, but this time feels harder for some reason. I miss the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. I miss the way your hair sticks up in the morning. I miss kissing you. I miss doing more than kissing you. I just miss you.

I’m not sure when I’ll get home, but I think about you every day, every second. Nothing in this galaxy or the next or the next compares to you. Please stay safe. Don’t be sad. Snuggle Goose for me.

I love you.

Carol

You fell asleep reading through the email, again and again, your phone going dark in your hand beside you as you drifted off. You dreamed of pulsars. You dreamed of Carol.

Hours later, you jerked awake, gasping, as you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” a voice said, calming, reassuring. “It’s just me.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. “Carol!” you squealed, grabbing her and pulling her onto the bed with you, holding her as tight as possible so she could never, ever leave you for so long again. “You’re home!”

You felt her smile against you as she buried her face in your neck, wrapping her strong arms around you. She smelled metallic, almost like gunpowder; you knew it by now–the smell of space. “Hi, baby,” she whispered, breathing you in. “I missed you so much.”

Still holding you close, Carol sat up a bit to just look at you, just take you in. She ran her hand along your cheekbone and pressed a warm kiss to your mouth. A kiss you’d been so desperate for, you thought you might die from relief. Her lips tasted like space, too, the way metal smells after rain. So uniquely her. How many other people could say they knew the taste of space?

“Are you crying?!” Carol asked, alarmed, as she brushed a few tears from under your eyelids.

You sniffed and mumbled, “I thought maybe you forgot about me.”

Carol pulled you to her chest, running her fingers through your hair, lightly grazing her fingernails against your scalp. You shivered at the sensation.

“Oh, baby,” she breathed. “I could never forget about you.”

“But there’s so much out there.”

“Mmhm,” she said, kissing your nose. “And none of it’s as beautiful as you.”

When she moved to stand up, you grasped her hands. “No, no! Stay here and snuggle!”

She laughed, grinning from ear to ear, as she pushed your hair back from your face. “I have to shower, Y/N. I smell like an asteroid.”

You leapt out of bed to stand next to her, looping your arm and hand through hers and leaning against her shoulder. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. You never wanted to let her go.

“Can I join you?” you asked, blushing a little. After all, it had been nearly a year.

Carol looked at you lovingly, smiling softly, a few of her own tears building. She squeezed your hand and dragged you after her into the bathroom. “God, yes.”

[crafty-butch]

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

[penkura]

knowing [5/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: I love Dressrosa, Sanji got to go on a date lol. But obviously things are different here. ;) This one is also a little shorter, I wasn't sure what to do with this, but I'm fairly happy with it. Next week will be much longer! And on time I swear omg.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4]

With the events of Fishman Island behind you, arriving on Punk Hazard, you drew straws with everyone willing to venture to the burning side of the island, being one to join Luffy, Zoro, Robin, and Usopp to scope the place out. You promised Sanji you’d be fine, you’d stick by Zoro even thought Sanji didn’t like that either, he knew you trusted Zoro as much as you trusted him. You knew Sanji would be fine taking care of the rest of your crewmates, even when you make it to the frozen side of the island and see things have gone a bit awry, as your friends are now all swapped around thanks to one Warlord.

“Okay, okay,” you looked between the four as Usopp took out a notepad and pencil to keep things straight, “So, Franky is in Chopper’s body.”

“Super right, buddy!”

“And, Chopper is in Sanji’s body.”

Sanji, or, well, Chopper nodded, starting to cling onto you which felt weird even though it was your boyfriend’s body it was Chopper’s mind.

“Nami is in Franky’s body.”

Nami-Franky was nearly in tears, poor Nami crying over not being herself.

“And…” You looked over the to the last member of your crew, smiling when see they aren’t looking at you, “Sanji is in Nami’s body.”

Slight nod, you nearly laughed at the whole situation, while everyone was wondering how to fix it. You weren’t sure you knew the answer, but thought Trafalgar Law was your only way of getting the whole thing fixed.

You all take to just calling your swapped friends by their names, you taking a seat by Sanji and patting his back while he kept his head in his hand, not having fully looked at you since you showed up. Being in Nami’s body must’ve been a lot for him to take in, especially considering his relationship with you.

“We’ll get you back to normal, Sanji. It’ll be okay.”

He stayed quiet for several moments, before finally turning to give you a hug that you returned.

“It’s probably weird,” Sanji said while almost burrowing into your shoulder, “but I just need a minute, I’ll be fine…”

“I know, I know.”

It was a little weird, to hear his voice coming from Nami, but for the time being, you’d have to accept it. It wouldn’t change anything about your relationship, it was only temporary. Even when Sanji left with Zoro and Brook to go after the torso-less Kin’emon, you stayed with the rest of your crew, helping calm the withdrawal suffering and mostly giant children, as Luffy and Franky ran to save Nami from whoever snatched her thinking she was Franky.

Once Luffy and the others return, with Trafalgar Law at their side, and an alliance planned thanks to Luffy not stopping to ask anyone else. You were all for it, making Nami mostly yell at you after she was swapped into Sanji’s body.

Nami in Sanji’s body was even weirder than the other swaps, but it felt stranger when Nami hugged you as she cried over now being in your boyfriend’s body instead of her own. You looked over at Law, giving him a slight glare that he returned.

“What?”

“I kind of hate you right now.”

You were glad later that day when Law finally switched the two back. Sanji was so happy that the second he got the chance, he hugged you so tightly before running off to help Tashigi and the other Marines while you went on with Nami and the others to help Chopper stop the children from getting the spiked candy.

“I’m glad for you and Sanji,” Nami made a slight face that caused you to laugh, “But thank God I’m back in my body, I didn’t want you guys being weird while we were swapped.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!! All we did was hug!”

“Still weird.”

Robin smiled hearing your conversation and the near cackle you let out at Nami’s reaction.

Personally, she was just glad Franky wasn’t in Chopper’s body anymore.

+!+

“That little brat.”

“Sanji. He’s a child.”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

You fought back a laugh at the scowl on Sanji’s face while Momonosuke, one of the children you’d helped rescue from Punk Hazard with his father Kin’emon, slept on your lap. Of course, you knew the child had a bit of a bias towards women, whether because he didn’t have his mother or because of perverted reasons, you didn’t want to know really. You preferred to just view him like your little brothers, someone who needed some comfort and attention.

“He reminds me of my youngest brother,” You smiled a bit, watching Momonosuke while Sanji watched you still, “He was four when I left home, I felt awful cause he was crying and holding onto my leg so tightly…I almost stayed.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you looked over and gave Sanji a smile that he returned. “He was the baby before the new one my mom was pregnant with, we really thought he was going to be the last one.”

“There are nine of you now?”

“Yep.”

Sanji quietly nodded, turning back to his dinner prep and trying to decide if he should say something else, before finally doing so.

“I’m…one of five.”

“…really?”

“Mm,” Sanji knew you were just watching his back, he was still trying to word things, that was the second thing he’d ever told you about his family, the first being his mother’s name, “I have one older sister…and three brothers, two older and one younger. My brothers and I were quadruplets.”

Your eyes widened and you had the sudden fear of having quadruplets yourself, before Sanji, who turned around to see your fear, quickly calming you down by saying his parents had help and there was no record of natural multiples of that many in his family line, you were safe. At the most you could have twins one day, but even that was rare.

Once Sanji had talked you down from running away with a million bunny trails, he sat beside you and watched Momonosuke sleep.

“I guess he’s kind of cute.”

“Kids are always cute when they sleep.”

The three of you are quiet for a bit, Sanji thinking of different things while watching you and Momonosuke. He wondered if you wanted to be a mom one day, do you actually want kids with him? He’d heard you and Nami talking about the kids from Punk Hazard, how you wanted to help them and the soft spot you both had for children. Having watched you the last couple days, on your trip to Dressrosa, as you spent time with Momonosuke and helped care for him, it made him want to have children with you so much sooner than you probably should or could.

Of course, he wanted to marry you first, but he had decided you would be a wonder mother one day, if that was what you wanted.

Luffy nearly broke into the kitchen a few moments later, shouting that you’d all arrived at Dressrosa, and it was time to get off the ship.

You had already been enlisted by Law to come with him to help hand over Caesar to Doflamingo, which Sanji didn’t particularly like as he was supposed to stay on Sunny with Nami, Chopper, Momonosuke, and Brook. While he trusted Law as an ally, the way you two seemed to be hanging out more and getting closer, it made Sanji a little jealous to see, but he was trying to push it aside after you’d forgiven him for his indiscretions with seeing the mermaids on Fishman Island.

He didn’t want to do anything to lose you.

+!+

"Hey, come with me, moss head."

Zoro didn't have a chance to argue with Sanji about going elsewhere before the blond pulled him into a store by his sleeve. He didn't even get to see what kind of shop he'd been dragged into, what if it was a place he didn't want to be? Once he did see it was a jewelry store, Zoro grumbled to himself about how stupid of a place this was for him to be, he didn't need anything more. His three earrings were more than enough. Why did Sanji even want to be here?

"Hey, what the hell are we doing here?"

"Shut up for a minute." Sanji growled out a bit, before turning back to the store clerk and handing the man a ring, asking to see anything in that size. Once the clerk brought over several rings that matched, Sanji started looking at them closely while Zoro watched him for a few minutes.

He finally had a thought about what Sanji was doing, but there was no way right?

He definitely wasn't doing what Zoro thought he was doing, despite his mumbling to himself about what was too gaudy or too ugly for you.

"What are you doing, curly brow?"

Stopping for a second, Sanji held a small ring in his hand before he looked at Zoro.

"I want to ask [Y/N] to marry me. I don't know when yet, but I want to do it soon."

He really was doing exactly what Zoro thought he was doing. Sanji was trying to choose an engagement ring for you. He'd probably only dragged Zoro into the shop with him so the swordsman wouldn't get lost, but the fact he even told Zoro what was doing was a surprise. You had gone with Law, Robin, and Usopp to hand off Caesar to Doflamingo if all went well, so there was no chance of you randomly walking in and finding out about this before he was ready to ask.

Sanji had known for a while that he wanted to marry you. If you all hadn't separated for two years, he believed he would have asked much sooner, but he also knew things would work out the way he hoped and planned either way. Whether he asked tomorrow or in another year, he felt certain you'd say yes. After watching you with Momonosuke since he and Kin’emon had joined you all, he knew his decision to ask you was going to be the right one, he knew you were going to be a great mother to whatever children you may have in the future.

Zoro was surprised Sanji hadn't asked you to marry him yet. He saw the gross, lovesick look the chef always gave when you were around him, the far off look in his eyes when he'd watch you spending time with someone else on the ship, and even the tiniest bit of visible jealousy as you spoke with Law about the plans he had for you all in Dressrosa. He knew you were the same way, lovesick looks when Sanji wasn't paying attention, you'd told Zoro many things that he didn't need or want to hear about how you loved the blond, and the way you'd be the first to offer to help clean and wash dishes after dinner.

There were even the few moments Zoro would catch you two on the deck, against the railing. Sanji would have an arm around you, leaning in to whisper whatever he had to say, which more often than not would make you blush and giggle a bit, doing the same to keep your conversation private. Zoro couldn't hear the likely gross, lovey-dovey  things you were saying to each other to elicit such reactions, and he didn't want or need to know.

If your relationship was out in the open for everyone to know about, Zoro could only imagine how gross you two would be.

"Surprised you haven't asked her yet."

"Yeah well," Sanji handed the ring he'd chosen to the clerk, who walked off to get it rang up while he took a drag from his cigarette, "Things have been moving so quickly lately we've barely had time alone as it is."

"You gonna ask her once this is done with?"

Taking the bag once he'd paid for the ring, Sanji shook his head while he and Zoro left the jewelry store. "No, I don't think so. I want to ask at the right moment."

"Better not make her wait forever," Zoro smirked a bit, but he knew Sanji wasn't going to take too much longer to pop the question to you, "Who knows, she might fall for Traffy if you do."

"Don't joke about that, you lame ass moss head!"

+!+

Dressrosa was freed in a day, you were glad when the birdcage came down and knew Luffy had taken down Doflamingo, finally. Your part was to help the townspeople after you worked with Robin and Usopp to stop Sugar’s Devil Fruit powers, having run off after your call with Luffy’s group and Sanji’s on the Sunny. Despite your concern for your friends, you were also worried for the regular people who had no part in the whole ordeal. Even with Marines around you tried to be sneaky, as a kunoichi should be, and slip around to help anyone who needed it, but especially the children that had been separated from their parents or other family members. Every moment and reunion made you miss your own parents and siblings, but also made you grateful to have the chance to make a difference in someone else’s life.

After your few days of rest in Kyros’ home and quick escape from the kingdom, you were glad to he back on a ship, even if it wasn’t the Sunny, returning to water made you even happier than you would’ve expected it to, even though it had only been a few days.

Much of your time during your trip to Zou was spent with Robin and Law, Zoro noticed. Or course you’d be near to Robin, she was like the big sister you never had, but Law was a surprise. He didn’t seem like the kind of person you’d be drawn to, let alone friends with, but maybe there was something else going on.

He was joking when be told Sanji you could go after Law if the blond tool too long to propose to you, it wasn’t a real thought in his mind at the time.

Eventually you tale a break from everyone and go to Zoro, sitting beside him and leaning into his arm, which makes him nod towards Law and Robin.

“What’s going on there?”

“Oh, I was just getting an idea of Traffy’s plan. He’s really got things all figured out.”

“Not what I meant.”

Tilting your head, you look back to them, before realizing what Zoro meant and feeling your face heat up.

“Oh. Oh! No, no, no, Zoro, nothing like that!”

“Look just cause the cook isn’t here and you’re still a secret doesn’t mean—”

“Zoro. Trust me. Law is cool and all that, but I’m not attracted to him. Sanji’s the only one for me.”

Zoro shrugged a bit, going back to his drink your interrupted him from. He does believe you, he’d been watching and the look in your eyes while you talked to Law, it wasn’t at all like the one you have when you look at Sanji. That look you have when you’re in love with someone, completely smitten and enthralled by them, you’ve only ever given that look to Sanji ever since you met.

“You’ll be back with your weird boyfriend soon.”

Giggling, you nod and close your eyes, just thinking about seeing Sanji again.

See you in Zou, Sanji.

[luveline]

Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says. 

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?" 

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?" 

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?" 

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No." 

"Is that weird for me to ask you?" 

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised." 

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?" 

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions. 

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different." 

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?" 

"I'm trying to be sweet on you." 

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible. 

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow." 

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest. 

You move to the next shelf below. 

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked. 

The page was missing. 

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps. 

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?" 

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?" 

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow. 

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god." 

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask. 

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell." 

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment." 

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol." 

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy. 

"Your spelling is terrible," you say. 

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you." 

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away. 

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle. 

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser." 

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask. 

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?" 

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely." 

"You're lovely. I'll find it." 

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily. 

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him. 

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him. 

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room. 

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time. 

"Steve!" you shriek. 

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound. 

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast. 

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you. 

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat. 

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down. 

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?" 

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten. 

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second. 

"You thought it bit me," he says. 

Your breath catches. 

"It didn't bite you." 

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me." 

"Your coat." 

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you. 

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise. 

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding." 

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp. 

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever. 

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you. 

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down." 

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail. 

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?" 

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit." 

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down." 

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago. 

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you. 

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks. 

You shake your head. 

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this." 

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids. 

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says. 

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in. 

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils. 

"Same size," he says. 

"It's just a cut." 

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly. 

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick." 

"You do?" you ask, terrified. 

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance. 

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic." 

Your acidity shocks you both. 

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end. 

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says. 

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says. 

"We don't fight anymore." 

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it." 

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time." 

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died." 

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean." 

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics." 

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying." 

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me." 

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap. 

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time. 

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.  

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me." 

"That's why I need you." 

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh. 

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say. 

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore." 

[elasticitymudflap]

god, okay. fuck. i hate to say that i really underatand where simon's coming from, like, with his misunderstanding of betty and their relationship. because, well, autism. he's obviously used to being alone and people thinking he's stupid and weird, and is just very passive in his approach to other people in general. i know that feeling. it's a barrier you build around yourself to get through a world that refuses to understand you, and by this point you're so used to getting burned from making social missteps that you eventually stop trying to vocalize your own feelings and desires, so you're perpetually waiting for the other person to make the first move so you can follow:

'this cool girl i met has read my work and is really into it, she's so smart and even sees things in it that i missed! and she really wants to come with me on this next expedition? oh wow, okay, great! i mean, she's so excited about it she basically dropped her own plans and invited herself along, so this is clearly something she really wants to do! who would i be to deny her that?'

'and wow is she ever great! on our expedition together she always knows how to handle obstacles, she doesn't even need my help! i really should be following her lead, she really knows what she's doing so much better than me! i'm so glad she wanted to be here and help me!'

'i can't believe we found the enchiridion together! but she doesn't want to come along with me and take credit for its discovery? even though she helped me out so much and is so incredible and i really really like her- wait!! i shouldn't say that last part!! that would be really weird!! i don't want to make things weird!! she had a good time, and since all of this was her choice i won't try to stop her or make her feel bad or do something she doesn't want to. best to keep it professional.'

'oh hey! she left a note for me in that book i was going to check out, god she's so funny-wait. oh my god, SHE thinks we had something special too??! she says she's going on that trip, but she wishes she could travel the world with me??! she even gave me her address so i can come find her??! okay, mesage received, I GOTTA GO TALK TO HER!!!'

'uh oh, i don't know what to say to her, i obviously said the wrong thing just now and she thinks i don't feel the same way. i know she feels embarassed about the letter. i'll tell her letter was great!! it was incredible!! i want her to know that i want exactly what she wants, and that i feel the same way about her, i'll even say it to her the same way she did!!'

all i'm saying is... from somebody of This specific perspective, i can totally see why he didn't question her not getting on the bus, dropping everything to come with him, and all of her other desicions she made in ooo:

'okay i'm FINALLY going to apologize to betty for how the crown made me scare her away 1000 years ago! wait, hang on, she seems really confused that i'm saying goodbye to her?'

'oh no, we're running out of time but she feels really bad about the fact that she left me!! no, it's okay!! i want you to know that love you, and i forgive you for leaving me!! please don't feel bad about it!!'

to him, betty is unquestionably strong, competent, capable, and confident in everything she does. if she didn't want to do something she simply wouldn't do it, much the same way that he knows she would move heaven and earth if she wanted to make something happen; and who would he be if he didn't give her the chance to let her try? he simply doesn't PERCIEVE her to be insecure, overly self sacrificing, and in need of him to be a lot less passive about her choices, the way that someone from the outside looking in obviously can.

autism4autism couple my FUCKING beloved.

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 52*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Spirit’s Eve shenanigans interlude - Sebastian WRECKS ya lol

Author’s Note: Got this one out WAY earlier than anticipated. My brainrot is too powerful..

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

When I return to Seb’s, Robin’s at the counter, unlike earlier. Looks like she’s doing some sorta till-counting or something, given how she’s hunched near the open register and vigorously scribbling into a notepad. 

She’s in her costume while she does it. Considering it’s a crappy, plasticky getup from a chain store, she makes a hot Morticia Addams, god damn Robin!

“Getting some last minute work in?” I ask, taking my usual stance with my elbows upon the opposite side of the wood.

“Something like that,” she murmurs. Sounds stressed.

“Well… you look great, at least!”

She huffs out a bitter laugh, then says under her breath, “Oh yeah? Tell that to my husband.” 

Oooh, is that why she’s moody? I’ll kick his ass! I’ll fuck him up!

…No I won’t. 

But still, what the fuck?

A little taken aback, and unsure if it’s my place to say anything bad about that dipshit to her, I opt to offer support. “Whoa, everything okay?”

She still hasn’t met my eyes, but she does roll hers. “That di—“ She stops herself. “He—“ She takes a deep breath, her lids shutting. Looks like she’s trying to regroup.

“…You can totally call him a dick, if that’s what you were gonna do,” I offer, resting my chin on my knuckles.

Robin laughs a little more genuinely this time. “Eh. Feels weird to complain to my son’s girlfriend about my marital issues.” She looks up at me, her eyes a little glazed over, before they widen. She blinks and raises her brows, taken aback by my appearance. “Oh. Oh wow!” Then, she leans in and whispers, “You did this with magic?!”

Beaming, I nod. 

“That’s amazing! You’re kind of like one of those characters from those games Sebby plays.”

“I had to get inspiration somewhere,” I quip with some finger guns. 

“Dork.”

“You love me though.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she reluctantly agrees, scruffing my hair. 

I scowl, and then as I fix it, I jump back to the previous topic. “You know, you can talk to me about anything. If you want.” This time I rest the heel of my palm against my chin. “As a friend, not just as your son’s girlfriend, or a customer, or whatever.”

After inspecting me for a moment, Robin smiles. “I’m glad Sebastian fell in love with such a sweetheart, y’know that?”

I’m cheesing hard, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, but I feign anger anyway. “What’d I just say? I’m your friend right now! Forget that guy!”

She barks out a laugh and throws her palms up in defeat. She fixes some hair from her wig out of her face as she goes on, zoned out on the desk between us, “I’m… ugh.” Another sigh. “Demetrius is just upset that I don’t want him locked in that lab tonight. God forbid he spends some time with his family during a holiday.” 

She pauses, looks at me again, and her eyes are threatening to tear up. I can’t help the way my own mouth melts downward as she quickly darts her view away from me.

“He couldn’t care less about our costumes.” 

The woman sniffs and tries to hide her face. I scurry around to the other side of the counter — she looks like she could use a hug. When I silently open my arms she laughs wetly and accepts. 

Over my shoulder, she murmurs, “I just thought it could be fun to match, ya know? To act like a happy married couple, for a change. It’s like he doesn’t even want to be around me outside of our Friday saloon dates though.”

I’m not really sure what to say. My heart is telling me to shout “Dump his ass!!!” but I know that would be inappropriate.

I wind up trying to lighten the situation in lieu of consolation. “Y’wanna know what I think?” I ask, pulling away and clapping my hands over her shoulders.

“Please, share your wisdom, wise wizard.”

I giggle at that. Then, still smiling, “He’s a real dickhead.”

“(Y/n)!” Robin exclaims, albeit through her own giggles. She weakly swats at me.

“He is! The more I hear about him, the more I think he deserves a nice ol’,” and I pull back some more, punching at the air, with my cheeks puffed and brows slanted downward. 

Still laughing, she leans on the surface next to her. “Simmer down, Rocky,” she tells me, resting her temple on her palm.

I join her in leaning on the counter again. “Okay, in all seriousness, though... You deserve to be happy. Whether he wants to play along for the night or not.” After a quiet beat, I add “…What if I’m Gomez?”

Robin shoots me an amused, incredulous look. “What?”

“If Demetrius won’t be your Gomez then I will!” I declare with a nod. “Just bring the mustache with you later, if he won’t wear it. I’ll gladly slap it on.”

She shakes her head. The way her grin hasn’t left her face makes me smile right back. 

God. Seb really does have her smile. It warms my heart a ton to see it from the source.

“C’mere, you little weirdo.” 

Robin pulls me back into another hug. Still feeling silly, I tell her that I’m serious. I am, I’ll do it! She promptly and playfully pushes me off her. 

“Alright, get outta here.”

“Think about it!” I advise, tapping my head as I walk away.

“Oh my god.”

Well.

There we go!

I think I helped..?

I hope I helped. 

Robin’s usually so strong, and independent, and full of sass and kindness and goofiness all in one package. It’s hard seeing someone I look up to so much so… broken. Especially over some dumb asshole like Demetrius.

I softly rap on Seb’s door, then enter without an answer, assuming he’s still asleep. And he is — there are soft snores coming from a mound of blankets on his bed.

I pad over to him and sit down, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

I get real close and whisper, “Time to get up, baby,” near his ear. 

He shifts a little and sighs. His eyes open. They stay squinty as he blinks the sleep away. 

Oh. That was easy. “I thought there would be more protest than this.”

Seb sniffs and stretches, rolling his neck a bit. It pops, and he follows with rolling his shoulders too, which also pop. 

“The way y’whispered at me was so hot,” he explains. I ignore the flip my stomach does hearing him say that with his groggy rasp. “Got me right up.”

Is he bonin’ out already? “Figuratively or..?”

He turns to face me finally, a shitty little grin pairing an eyebrow waggle. It quickly morphs into a gleaming smile though, his eyes darkening above it as he takes in my disguise for the day. “Oh you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

I chew the bottom half of my smile as my face warms right up. “Still a fan?”

He scoffs, “‘Still a fan,’” mirroring my words back at me while he tugs me into his lap. I squeak, not expecting this energy from Seb right now, but he quickly muffles it with a heated kiss. 

His fingers dig into my hips before he brings his hands up to cup my face. “Of course I’m still a fan,” he breathes between kisses, “you have no idea.”

I grin into his lips, pulling away just enough to murmur, “I think I have a little bit of an idea.” As I speak, I roll my hips, effectively trailing my clothed slit against his erection. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans, flipping us so that he’s on top of me, slotted between my legs. 

One of his hands is grounded on the pillow by my head; the other is plastered to my cheek as if it’ll fall off otherwise. In the meantime, I wrap my legs around his waist, heady exhales escaping through my nose as he grinds himself against me. I try to match his energy, tangling my fingers through his hair while I tug his face closer to mine. 

“What time was it when you got down here?” 

“Dunno, I—“ he lightly thrusts again, cutting me off as I curse against his lips, “Fuck.” I grin into a kiss and then continue, doing my best to ignore his active lower half, “Last I checked,” another kiss, “it was 7ish,” another, “Probably got here like 15 minutes ago.” Another kiss, and another roll, prompting us to moan against each other. “Maybe 20,” I breathe. 

“Damn it.” Seb presses his forehead to mine, his eyes shut. “How about this?” he states more than asks.

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Mhm,” I have to hum, because he paused to kiss me again.

“Then I’ll get ready, y’know, do my hair and all that.”

Kiss. 

“‘Kay.”

Kiss.

“And then,” he pauses for another kiss while his fingertips drag to the side of my neck. His thumb trails my jaw and finds residence on my chin, its tip touching the underside of my bottom lip, in the meantime. “I’m gonna make you cum all over my cock,” kiss, “alright?”

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

I nod. 

Kiss.

“Sound good?”

“Yeah,” I practically moan.

 Kiss.

“Yeah? You’d like that?”

I nod, kissing his smug grin. 

He reciprocates the action, and then tugs my chin down to give himself entry. I whine at the gesture while his tongue twirls around my own. 

…And then he pulls away, gives me an all too friendly smile and pat on the cheek, and gets up, sauntering to the bathroom.

I can’t help but laugh. 

_______________

Seb did his hair straight out of the shower — it’s no different than usual — but came out for help with makeup. 

“Honestly, I thought you were half-sleeping when I suggested this,” I mutter while giving him the best smokey eye I can manage with red and black. 

It’s hard working with eyes that aren’t my own. Also hard not to overdo it. Something about eyeshadow just makes me wanna keep coloring everything in…

“I was,” he confirms. “Only half, though.” 

From my seat atop him, I lean over to put the eyeshadow down and grab his liner stick. It’s hard not to feel a little restless in this position. Dude’s in nothing but boxer briefs. Didn’t want to risk smudging anything onto his white shirt, and didn’t feel like getting into dress pants just yet. Every little movement is like a taste of what’s to come after this, if he’s still up for it. 

Yoba, I hope he’s up for it.

Instrument in hand, I tilt his head gently by the chin for a better view. He closes his eyes before I have to ask, so I move my non-dominant hand to his cheek and get to work carefully lining a lid. 

“Didn’t you say when we first met that you used to wear eyeliner?”

He grins, and I have to pause so as to not smudge anything too badly. When he feels that I stopped, he opens his eyes. Those deep blueish irises have an extra sparkle to them. His cheeks heat up a little too, and I can see hints of a blush growing on them. 

“Yeah, I’m a bit rusty— wait, you actually remember that?”

I pull a face. “‘Course I do,” I respond, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You made that night fun… made me feel safe and welcome after having to endure that thorough grilling from Abby.” I blush as I tack on, at the risk of being a sap, “It’s a really special memory for me.”

Barely containing his pearly whites, he goes on, “She went in on you.”

He shuts his eyes for me again after seeing that I’ve returned my focus to his makeup. I begin working on the other one, satisfied with my work on the first after a quick swipe just beneath his waterline. 

“I’d probably have cried if it weren’t for all the beer.”

“Imagine,” he huffs out a laugh. “All the moms probably wouldn’t shut up about you.”

I toss Seb’s pencil aside and get to work smudging it with my fingertip a bit. Looks too neat. “Y’hear about that new girl?” I jest in something akin to Jodi’s cadence. “Sensitive thing, she is. She won’t last a day on that farm.” I pull back a bit and take Seb’s face in my hands, inspecting my work on his eyes while we laugh. 

“Oh, and don’t even get me started on that little skirt she was wearing,” he plays along. 

“Ha!” I break. “That skirt isn’t that little.” 

“It’s little enough that it had me thinking.”

“Thinking?” I tilt my head.

He winks. “Thinking.” 

Oh! My heart flutters because of course it does. I nuzzle my forehead against his and squeeze my eyes shut to stim away the fluster; he giggles, and then, simmering down, I ask, “You want some mascara?”

“Maybe a bit on the bottom row.”

“Oh, you’re gonna look downright slutty.”

“I’m not hearing a problem with that.”

“Neither am I,” I quip, being careful not to make them too tidy. Gotta make sure to clump some lashes up more than others too…

That should do it.

I lean back to scan his face again. “Lipstick?”

“Maybe some black on the top lip? And some red… somewhere near my mouth, I dunno. Fake blood and all that.”

I nod, but lean in for a kiss instead of doing it. He happily reciprocates. “Not yet,” I purr against him. “You have a promise to fulfill.”

He grins, wide and catlike, and hungrily chases my lips. “Don’t wanna sloppy it up?”

“And let my hard work go to waste?” I tease. My voice comes out airy, and my breath quickens as he pulls my chest to his.

“But maybe I like it sloppy.”

Ignoring the implications, I subtly roast, “Bold words for someone who didn’t wanna dirty his shirt.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughs before smashing his mouth to mine again. Pulls away, gnaws his lower lip... “I have an idea, actually.”

“Hm?”

He picks up some red lipstick and hands it to me. I tilt my head in question. 

“Slap it on me.”

I snort. “Where are you going with this?” I ask while I follow his instruction. 

As soon as I’m done, he pulls me in for more kisses. Sloppy kisses. The kind that can make me moan, whether it’s from being flustered, or from the kisses themselves — and they do. 

Seb smiles against me before kissing me some more. Then, he pulls away. He laughs at the resulting makeup on my face. 

“Oh, you look adorable.”

“How bad is it?” I ask, bringing a finger to my mouth. 

When I pull the digit away it has a red tinge to it; hard to gauge how dark it would actually look on my face until I see it, with my skin being pink in my disguise, and this room so dim.

“You tell me,” he asks, more about himself. He does a quick mouth wiggle while puckering. 

“You’re looking pretty wrecked.”

“Pretty bloody?” 

“Ooo, nice!” I beam.

“Can never tell me I’m not clever again.”

Laughing, I flick his nose. He reaches for a bite on my finger and I let him have it. “Never said you weren’t.”

“Damn right.” He pulls me back in, kissing me with a fervor I haven’t felt from him in a hot minute.

I wonder if it’s my… elfliness (sure, that’s a word). It’s gotta be that.

I’m not complaining.

With our lips locked, he begins lifting off my shirt, and I work on my pants in turn. There’s a few rows of buttons on ‘em but I get through it eventually. 

Once my mouth is free, I think aloud, “I wonder what color my nips are, if my skin is already pink.” 

I pause my work on my pants while he unclasps my bra. “Only one way to find out.” As it falls, we both laugh. “Fucking purple?”

“Hey, I think it works!” I lift my breast for closer inspection. It’s funny seeing a mauvy lavender there, as opposed to its usual color. It compliments my skin nicely though!

Next thing I know, I’m swallowing a hum as a result of Seb latching onto the same boob I’d been holding. He grabs my nipple between his teeth and lightly pulls away, making me whine. “It does work,” he agrees. Then, he delves into the other.

After a brief moment, he removes himself. “Pants off.”

I mumble, “Bossy...”

I stand up and do it anyway, though. I get rid of my panties too while I’m at it. Not like I’ll need them for this. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t love being bossed around, y’little gremlin.”

He flips me around and pulls me back into his lap, but facing away from him now; nudges my legs open with his knees; and then, while planting wet kisses to my neck and shoulder, he drags a finger through my folds in a long, languid stroke. I don’t even have time to argue back. 

I moan, rolling my head rest on Sebby’s shoulder behind me. Drinking in the feeling of his warm lips and breath on my skin, I arch instinctively while he creeps closer to my entrance. The hand that had been holding my hip wraps around my midsection in response, keeping me from moving too much, but not stopping me either.

“Jeez. So wet already,” he lilts. 

“Yeah, well…” I trail off, not in the mindset to say anything clever back. I’m too foggy with want for that.

Seb seems to be having fun taking his damn time with me. He circles the opening, not quite giving me the satisfaction of entry, but still making me feel something. I squirm, antsy as he devolves me into a needy (well— need ier ), panting mess. 

“Something wrong, love?” he mutters against my ear before lightly nipping at its pointy tip.

Smartass.

“N-no, nothing,” I lie. 

“Good,” he teases, “almost thought you were dissatisfied for a sec there.”

Damnit. I mean, I’m not, fucking obviously, but if he’d just go in…

I sigh, but it comes out as a huff, and turns into a whimper. My dominant arm has been raised, its hand toying with Sebastian’s hair this whole time. The other, which had been gripping the arm Seb’s holding me in place with, is now on its way to his active hand, in an attempt to urge him inside me.

As soon as my hand makes contact with his wrist, he retracts his fingers to the lower portion of my folds again. 

He warns lowly, “Keep that hand to yourself.”

Oh he has no business being this hot, god damnit dude.

I heed his words with an embarrassing squeak, draping my arm across my tummy, just below his. His grip with that one tightens as he gets back to work drawing circles and stars around the rim of my cunt.

“Ahh— fuck,” I whimper, my hips moving on their own volition, “please.”

He softly asks, his lips against my earlobe, “What do you want?”

“Please,” I pause to moan as he barely — just barely — dips inside me, planting a kiss to my cheek just in front of my ear. “Need you.”

“You already have me, silly. Gotta be more specific than that.” 

He peppers kisses around my neck while I struggle to find words to respond with. Just when I feel his tongue licking a strip across it, his thumb rests itself on my clit, unmoving.

My thighs tense and I squeeze the forearm that’s above my own, subconsciously tugging his hair a little too. “God.”

“Tell me,” he kisses my neck again, “tell me what you want from me, (y/n).” 

“Fuck, I want you.” I urge, “I need you inside me, please— oh shit,” my body twitches as he slightly begins to wriggle his thumb. He’s still not fingerbanging me yet, the audacity, but this still feels fucking good. “God, please, Seb.”

“Still need more details.” Oh my fucking— he’s trying to kill me. He wants me dead. “What part of me do you want inside you?”

Anything, frankly. “Y-your fingers,” I stutter instead, shuddering as he presses my bud a little harder. 

“Yeah?”

I mewl, “Yeah.” He grants my wish, but not enough. Slides his ring and middle fingers maybe an inch in, at most. I could fucking cry. “Ff— god damnit.”

“I thought you wanted this?”

I’ll fucking kill you bro— “Deeper,” I breathe, ignoring how desperate I sound; how tantalizingly he’s wiggling his digits. 

“This better?” he asks smoothly, and begins to pump the full length of his fingers in and out of me.

My head lolls back and tears fall from my eyes in relief. He moves absurdly slow as he begins to curl the pads of his fingers against me, but it’s better than everything else he’s done to cause me to crumble like this. “Fuck, yes~”

He removes his arm from my belly and turns my head to him. Without moving my lower body, I twist so that I can comply better, resting a palm beside us on the mattress. My other reaches for his face while I try to kiss him — and he gets close, but ultimately doesn’t budge. 

I chase his lips, humming through the pleasure, then groaning when he doesn’t work with me. He smiles knowingly. 

I deadpan, “Oh my fucking god.” Or, at least I do to the best of my ability while he’s got knuckles buried in me.

“You want more?”

“Please,” I nod. My forehead is against his as I shut my eyes, subtly shifting myself down so that he’ll go deeper. He responds in kind, pumping and curling against the perfect spot. “Ah!”

“Better?” 

I nod again. Try for another kiss. He doesn’t let me again. Ugh. “Please, please,” I whisper. Comes out embarrassingly needy. 

As if all my other pleas haven’t been.

“What else do you want?”

My eyes don’t leave his lips. They look destroyed, between the natural plumpness of us having kissed so much, and the lipstick that’s smeared around them.

It’s so hot.

“Kiss me, please kiss me.”

He leans in… and pecks the corner of my mouth. 

I grunt between my teeth. “Please just fucking kiss me, oh my g—“ Smiling, Sebastian shuts me up with an actual kiss.

He pokes fun at me after, “So easy…” 

“Shut up— fuck, more.”

“Like this?” he asks, speeding up his digits’ pace as he kisses me again, our tongues tangling together while he swallows my moans. 

I nod, but then I realize we’re running out of time. As good as this is — and holy fucking moly it’s amazing, I actually adore when he’s a devious little shit like this — I need him to just screw me senseless so I can recouperate before having to go face the entire town and whoever else shows up. 

I gasp out of the kiss, “Fuck me.”

“Aw,” he tuts, “this isn’t good enough?”

“Sh— ah, shut up!” 

He laughs. “You want me to stop this then?” 

Well… No…

But I nod. 

“Please, fuck, I wanna cum with you, not like this.” 

God, I sound pathetic. But this is urgent. I’m getting so close. 

His smile widens. I finally meet his eyes, after having stared at the lower half of his face for so long. His pupils are blown wide — practically to the rims of his irises. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” I can feel myself tightening. I’m doing my best to stave it off, but… “Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing this.”

“You think you can cum twice for me then?” 

“Shit.” Don’t have to twist my arm. “‘Kay.”

“Yeah? You want that?”

I nod eagerly. Desperately.

He gets close enough that our lips are pressing together a bit, but he doesn’t kiss me. “Then cum.” Oh my god. “Cum on my fingers, baby,” fucking hell, “let me feel your tight pussy cumming onto my hand.”

Oh my fucking god.

A soundless cry escapes me and I nod, promptly delivering. “Seb, shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,“ I desperately babble, my release hitting me like a train. I close my eyes and lean onto his shoulder, initially clamping a hand over my mouth to quiet myself. Seb maneuvers me into a kiss instead.

When he’s finished me off, Seb removes his fingers from my cunt and brings the afflicted hand close to our jaws. He backs away from our kiss with just enough space to slide his wet digits between our faces; to hold them just in front of my mouth, waiting patiently but expectantly.

Beguiled beyond belief, I don’t let my gaze waver from his as I wrap my lips around his fingers. I suck myself off of him, teasing him with my tongue as I do, and then seal the action with another kiss, all but leading in with my tongue. 

He groans at the taste. It’s all he needed to give up any bit of restraint he had before.

“Fuck. Grab onto me,” he softly orders. 

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he flips me onto my back, sliding his underwear off in tandem. He promptly dips just his head inside me, and proceeds to use a combination of my folds and his fingers to spread my fluids onto himself, getting his dick lubed up.

I shiver at the sensation, but only for a few seconds before he inches his length inside me. 

“Oh, shit.” We literally moan the words in unison. Makes us both break from our trances. 

“Oh no.“

“I dunno how I felt about that.”

“Hated it, personally.” I admit, though, “…But also it was kinda hot?”

Gnawing his lower lip, Seb nods in agreement. 

We’re both still giggling about the occurrence when he resumes the activity, harshly thrusting into me. Morphing my laughter into a happy lil’ moan. 

“Fuck, you always feel so good.” Seb lowers himself a bit, dropping my legs in favor of holding my face in one hand and gripping the sheets in the other. “So fucking perfect.”

I feel my belly do a flip at his words while I drink in his praise, committing to memory the way he’s looking at me as if I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. I reach my hands to the sides of his neck and tug lightly in hopes he’ll come down for a kiss. Instead, he settles above me, hovering his lips right in front of mine. 

I see that’s his theme for today. Jackass…

I moan into his mouth while he pants into mine. Our gazes haven’t faltered from each other’s; the eye contact is making me feel shy, but I can’t look away.

“Fuck,” I mewl after a harsher thrust, “do that again?”

“This?” Seb repeats the action, and I nod, feeling my eyelids flutter. I don’t dare to shut them though. “You like that?”

“I love it,” I nod, “I love you,” I pause to swallow a cry, worried about the volume, before repeating, “I love you so much, you’re so fucking good.”

“Me, or my dick?” he pokes back. His face looks extra cocky, too.

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Both, fuck I love your cock.”

“Oh, holy fuck,” he half-moans, half-laughs. Not the first time I’ve said that, glad it still affects him. He rolls his eyes shut and presses his forehead to mine. “How much, princess?” he asks as he opens them again, his fiery stare boring into mine.

The nickname surges through me, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. “So much, you’re—“

I promptly zip it and slap a palm over my mouth as someone knocks on the door. Sebastian puts one of his over the back of my hand for good measure. 

Shit. 

“Sebby?” Robin’s voice calls through. “We’re just about ready to go.”

Shit!

He hasn’t stopped thrusting. Just slowed down. I grip his wrist with my free hand and squeeze — a safety measure to make sure I really won’t make noise and fuck this up for everyone, because Yoba above it’s hard not to.

Hopefully she hasn’t heard it up to this point… “We’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he says back, “Just finishing up my costume.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Need any help?”

“No,” he answers all too quickly. He recoups, “No, it’s fine, (y/n)’s got me covered. We’ll meet you guys outside.”

“Alrighty, try to hurry up. We’re already running a little late.”

He answers while simultaneously placing a sneaky finger to my clit, “You got it, Ma.”

Oh my god. I shut my eyes and try to breathe steady, listening to her footsteps fade away. It’s hard to be this quiet with this much stimulation.

Seb’s vision is still angled towards the door while he waits too. When it returns to me — when he sees my eyes, specifically, and how filled with want they probably look — he whispers out a half curse, stopping himself so he can keep listening.

As soon as we hear the front door upstairs shut, he removes both our hands from my mouth and kisses me. 

“You close?” he whispers.

I shrug. “Might need some encouragement.”

“Yeah? You need me to tell you when to cum?”

Oh, that’s definitely encouraging. God he’s so hot.

“Mhm,” I hum. “Just tell me what to do.”

He smiles. It almost looks a bit sinister… damn, and he called me a freak. Seb straightens his back, tugging me closer by the thighs before pumping into me with more force. “Let me see you touch yourself.”

Oh.

I release one of my fists from its recent death grip on his sheets and place two fingers against my folds, trying to strum to the rhythm of his hips. 

“There you go,” he praises, leaning down with a straight arm supporting himself. The other cups my cheek, its thumb playing with my lips. “Help me out,” he murmurs, “get yourself real close for me.” I whine at his words, and my pussy clenches around him. He laughs, but it isn’t smug or demeaning. Just smitten. “That’s it, baby. Juuust like that.”

Fuck, this is working out flawlessly. 

“I’m close,” I tell him, my voice barely even there, “m’gonna cum.”

“Atta girl.” I feel him twitch inside me. “Fuck. You wanna cum together, yeah?”

I nod, subtly speeding up my fingers. 

“Come on then, (y/n), cum with me. Keep those pretty eyes on me and cum.” 

Seb’s kind enough to give me a bit of a head start. Just as I start to crumble, I feel him joining me, nearly pressing his forehead against my own. His eyes roll shut for a moment before locking back onto mine below thick, upturned eyebrows. 

“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he smiles through his own pleasure.  

“Holy fuck,” I breathe, shakey and winded.

He soothes me through to the end, “That’s it, baby, nice and easy.” 

I swear to god he’s so good at that; at just flipping a switch, and suddenly knowing exactly what to say and do. That alone should be its own weird subgenre of wizardry. 

I shut my weary eyes, and for a few beats we just stay where we are, huffing each other’s air. When I open my eyes, I notice a hint of determination in Seb’s.

Right.

We’ve gotta get cleaned up and finish his look. Fast .

[whore4milesteller]

──── is that all i'll ever be ? ۶ৎ

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary — unrequited love.

wc — 1.2k+

warnings — none.

a/n — english is NOT my first language. please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors.

i met the triplets, and justin, when i was just four years old — they were five, and justin was twelve. the one that stood out to me, you may ask? matthew — the "weird", scrawny kid who helped me collect the lizards in our backyards.

my whole life, i was told that me and matthew would end up together. of course, as kids, neither of us wanted to believe it, nor did we want to feed into our parents' delusions. we attended the same schools our whole lives, then high school started. matt, being a year older than me, went to high school first. in his freshman year, he met her — aubrey.

naturally, the pair being in the same class, they started talking. he asked her for her number when they had a maths class together, and from there on out, they were practically inseparable. i felt so left out, because the boy i'd been best friends with for most of my life was suddenly replacing me with another, newer girl. and it hurt. way more than it should've.

i don't really know how, or when, or why i started developing a crush on him. i think it was way back when i was about eleven or so, when his dad made a joke about me being "matt's girl" and my cheeks flushed bright, crimson red. everywhere i went, for years, i was known as exactly that. matt's girl. and though it felt good to hear it, it hurt me because i wasn't actually his girl. aubrey was. with perfect, dark brown hair and pretty, doll-like eyes to match, matt must've fallen in love with those eyes that weren't mine. a voice that wasn't mine. a heart that wasn't mine.

i've tried getting over the stupid, blue-eyed boy, for years. but truthfully? i can't. it feels impossible. it is impossible.

when i started high school, i got attention from boys that i hadn't ever gotten before. older boys, specifically. me and matt would still hang out, our families together for a dinner at some restaurant downtown, at least once a month.

slowly but surely, as the years passed, those hangouts died down and became less frequent. i'd always hear about aubrey this and aubrey that. but never once was there heard about me having a special someone in my life. and when i talked about a boy i was seeing at the time, it'd only last a week tops.

in the tenth grade, when the triplets were in eleventh, i had a boyfriend. he was kind, sweet, and my parents adored him. shit hit the fan the night, after months of not seeing matt, he decided to show up at my bedroom window. saying he 'missed me in his life'.

and it went downhill from there. just when i thought i was finally getting over this embarrassingly hopeless crush, he had to show up — to maneuver his way back into my heart. but, really, the question stands: did he ever really leave?

we talked for hours that night, about all the detours life has taken us on in the time we'd been out of touch with each other. he told me about school, his plans for after he graduated, and of course, his girlfriend.

and, don't get me wrong, i was happy for him, really, i was. seeing him smile made me smile, regardless of it breaking my heart to know that i wasn't the girl he loved.

sometimes it felt like he loved me, though. when he'd hug me, it wasn't a quick, brushed-off, side-hug. it was a real, tight hug that lasted for more than just two seconds on end.

the way he'd get all protective when i mentioned a boy at school, acting as if it was his duty to protect me from all evil in the world. the way i'd catch him staring at me, under the starry night sky when we sat by the lake, like i was the one living rent free in his heart.

it was confusing, i'll be honest. i never really knew where we stood with each other. he was hard to read, but god, i would give anything just to understand him.

it's like he kept me on this line, on a hook, because he knew i liked him. loved him, even. he had to, right? because there's no way he couldn't see the way my eyes lit up everytime i saw him. there's no way he couldn't feel my heart pounding against my ribcage everytime he gave me a hug. the way my hands would shake when we parted from said hug. the way my cheeks always burned brighter than a stoplight when people teased us about liking each other, and i had to play it off and say that we were just friends.

because that's all i'll ever be, right? just a friend to him.

it can't be, though. i refuse to let it be that way. he has to love me. at least just a little bit.

i mean, c'mon. he doesn't even look happy with his girlfriend.

he doesn't laugh until he can't breathe when he's with her.

he can't be silly around her without being made fun of.

he can't be himself when she's around.

so, another question that stands: why is he with her, pretending to be this man, when he's really still a naive, eighteen year old boy?

i saw him again today, for the first time in almost a year. and god, my heart ached. seeing his stupid, toothy grin made me smile so dumbly. i hugged him when i saw him, wanting to never let him go again, but... he didn't reciprocate the hug. his hug was cold and rushed, as if he wanted me to get away from him. my face dropped, and my heart sank. but, i understood. he had a girlfriend now, a pretty girl at that, and hasn't seen me in ages.

it felt like i was a stranger to the kid. as if he'd never met me before. as if we hadn't grown up together, and spent most of our lives glued to each other's sides.

i thought that, at seventeen years old and after six pathetic years of a dumb, childhood crush, my feelings would've vanished. but no, not really. i don't think it ever will, if i'm being honest. he's the thing i keep coming back to, no matter how hard i try to stay away.

the countless nights i've spent balling my eyes out suddenly felt like it wasn't enough. the countless nights we've spent under the stars, laughing until our tummies hurt and we cried of joy felt like it wasn't... even real. like it had never happened. the countless nights we'd spent in each other's arms, watching silly movies or tv shows, singing karaoke or playing call of duty... was it all a lie? was i so stupid, young and naive that i thought it meant more?

when play-fighting turned into almost-kisses and his hands all over my body... it had to have meant something, right? otherwise it wouldn't have happened so many times. countless nights our faces were millimeters apart, yet to me, it felt like he was lightyears away. he was there, but not really. so close, yet so far.

still, the last question that stands: is this really all i'll ever be?

[kafkaoftherubble]

聊聊俺另个冷圈子漫画《AFTER GOD》: 解析、猜测、评论（暂至第58话，英译版为准）

An analysis/speculation/ramble of the manga, After God.

Edit: Upon re-reading some previous chapters for my next ramble, I realized that Yako's name isn't actually "Furuya Yako," but "Furuya Rin" (C56). I'd like to change it accordingly.

The sort of things I'll do for you, @orange-peel-candy, man. Yes, this could have been our Discord conversation, but it’s been a long time since I contributed something to this garden, and the After God appreciator circle is once again, a cold circle (冷圈子) that I thought hey, Future Lyns will enjoy reading. Maybe someone else other than you will, too?

This is up to Chapter 58, "They Don’t Understand."

I’m gonna reiterate some of the interesting things we mentioned back in Discord.

The latest chapter is cool because it showcases how Yako sees the word. “No colors; just lines. Faces are blocked out.”

Apropos of that, I’m personally stoked to see the mangaka spending time establishing the different kinds of visual impairment that might get someone to be legally or functionally declared “blind.” Then, via the elimination method, we get to see just why Yako stood out even within the community she is easily a member of owing to her congenital blindness.

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

Blind Perspectives

In the first part of C58, we see the Outsider Auntie describing how much of a stand-offish creep Yako was. Her opinion is likely similar to what readers might have felt about Yako since she appeared in the story.

But, in the second part of the chapter, we got to see Yako reminiscing about her dad’s funeral, her mother, and—we soon find out—the first time she met Chicken (“Rooster,” this distinction is actually important, but I think I’ll make a separate post about it) God. In that flashback, she’s still a little peculiar... but is largely a quiet girl with pretty normal sensibilities. She was defensive of her mother’s character and questioned—but not disparaging of—her long-absent father. She even displayed kindness to a creature she identified as a “parakeet” found near her dad’s coffin.

Little thought that goes nowhere: Child Yako reminded me of a live-action character we really like: India Stoker, from the movie Stoker. They both elicit a peculiar bearing partially from their atypical sensory experiences, are seen as “unsettling,” and are left alone. Man, I dig characters like these. So ghostly.

This is why I’m very interested in C59: it will be a continuation of Yako’s memories of how the Chicken God and her life entwined. Sure, we’ll also get to her reputation as a butcher of eighty lives, but I’m at least 80% sure that the slaughter is related to Chicken God. How the slaughter happened (was it via her new power? Poisoning? etc..), though, is a lot less clear.

Juxtaposing Yako and Outsider Auntie’s perspectives like these made me wonder if Yako had always been as off-putting as the latter claimed. Could it be that, at first, Yako seemed weird because of her nigh-superhuman way of navigating through her blindness with an accuracy other peers like Outsider Auntie could only dream of? Did jealousy introduce a distortion to the Outsider Auntie’s assessment of Yako’s character?

As you pointed out: both narrators are unreliable.

I think that’s a good reminder. So here’s the follow-up:

Is the answer to who Yako is somewhere in between these two perspectives, or does it lie in a third position?

In other words: will Chicken God’s account of Yako’s personality end up being the most accurate version of who she is?

It won’t be surprising if the last part turns out to be true. Alula and Orokapi, who are both IPO/gods, seem to have the most accurate perspectives on Tokinaga compared to any other humans in the story—possibly including Tokinaga himself. Alula also seemed to have understood the sides of Shion that had eluded Waka until the time of their closure.  

I think the gods’ impoverished understanding of humanity, plus their lack of emotional and experiential biases, actually gives the gods a clearer, fresher grip on the humans they are interacting with.

However, there’s a downside to learning about humanity with a blank slate. If you dip a piece of white paper into, say, a bucket of blue dye, you’ll get deep-blue paper. Then, no matter what color you try to paint on it later, the blue dye will influence how these colors present themselves on that paper, right?

That’s the second point—and hypothesis—I want to lead to.

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

Formative Experience

You observed that it’s strange that Chicken God relied heavily on others to do its bidding while Orokappi (and presumably others) show no such reliance. You’re right, and as always, you give me one really important lead-up to this hypothesis!

The gods described humanity as an infection, yea? We’re their Covid-19, monkeypox—you get the idea. Getting close to humanity, to them, risks being infected by our behaviors and ways of thinking.

In other words, the gods’ first and sustained interaction with one or more, humans greatly influences much of their personality development.

Orokapi

Orokapi’s first sustained interaction is with Tokinaga, who—due to knowing his OG’s sob story about being a loner with bad decisions and no friends (unless he wanted to include debt-collectors or whatever as “friends”)—offered Orokapi friendship with as little prejudice as possible. Even when Orokapi exhibited behaviors considered offensive, repulsive, or even disgusting, Tokinaga simply—persistently—corrected him and took care of him. Orokapi is Stitch to Tokinaga’s Lilo, y’all.

It’s pretty strange especially after we learned who Tokinaga actually is and what he really thinks of the gods.

But the main point stands: Tokinaga teaches Orokapi about friendship. The human notion of it, with all its complexities.

I argue that this is, therefore, Orokapi’s formative experience of humanity. This is his version of the humanity infection.

Orokapi is also notable among the gods for being one who embodies a human being. That is, he borrows a human body and lives like one—likely similarly to Allula. That affords him more formative experience with a human’s spectrum of emotional complexities—which again, because of Tokinaga, is related to the concept of friendship.

All of this culminated in his last run-in with the Rabbit God, Vollof.  They had been dear friends before Tokinaga was a thing in Orokappi’s life, and yet Orokappi voiced vexation on how to help his dearest bunny-eared friend. Rabbit God was important to him, but Orokappi didn’t know how to be a friend. In the past, he could only provide surface-level help like alleviating Rabbit God’s drug withdrawal symptoms with his toxins.

However, in their last encounter, Orokappi demonstrated emotional intelligence and sentiments paralleling Tokinaga’s treatment of him. The Snake God had used what he had learned and finally gave Vollof the peace and comfort it didn’t even know it wanted.

This was Orokappi’s humanity infection, manifesting. And it looks a whole lot like platonic love.

Orokappi ate Vollof and subsumed Vollof as part of his “self”—this seems to be a property of these gods, as Allula also seemed to have gained her chimeric form this way (hers is characterized more as “lust” than love though if I remember correctly). Interestingly, he expressed similar sentiments toward Tokinaga and wanted to eat him too.

The intrigue posed by Orokappi’s desire to eat Tokinaga and the latter’s own profound suicidal ideation is better discussed in another post that talks more about my mate’s psychology. So I won’t continue beyond this point!

-----

This is the basis for my hypothesis as to why Chicken God relies so much on cult followers. I’m about 75% confident of it.

Chicken God Ahu'az

Here’s what we know:

Chicken God was found by Yako in her own house, near her dad’s coffin.

Yako’s mother founded an abacus school.

She had quite a significant number of students, who seemed less interested in abacus and more in her charisma (and beauty). After all, Yako’s mom “talked a lot” after teaching for a bit, basically making her more of an orator than a teacher.

Her school fees were cheap.

Outsiders characterized the school as “a suspicious group of people,” stopping shy of outright calling it “a cult.”

Here’s what we know about Chicken God:

Bruh is the god of a cult.

Bruh doesn’t kill all humans—it lets those who are sickly or weak live. Could this be pragmatic—giving these desperate human powers and a second chance will strengthen their faith in it? Or did it actually possess a soft spot for the marginalized and/or variously disabled?

Bruh relies heavily on its followers to do its bidding.

For a time, bruh lived in a pond near the Furuya’s house.

Chicken God seems to be the closest to Yako despite proclaiming its contempt for humans.

Chicken God presents itself to humanity instead of embodying a human form.

The lowered fees, and the stated purpose of her starting such a school in the first place, suggested that there’s a chance the school attracted marginalized people. People who may live on the fringes and were forgotten by society.

At this point of the flashback, all of the attendees were male. But that doesn’t mean this won’t change in the future. Perhaps following Yako’s murder, the school became an actual starting point of a cult.

Either way, going from what the rumors said, Yako’s mom’s abacus school likely showed a fervor toward her in ways comparable to a following. Chicken God was already living in proximity to a dedicated group as soon as it regained power and sentience.

This backdrop was Chicken God’s formative experience of humanity.

If Orokappi’s formative experience centers around friendship—what if Chicken God’s centers around worship?

Side note: this will once again pit the Snake God and the Rooster God as foils, especially considering how much the two seemed to hate each other’s guts. Friendship denotes equality between all parties, but worship demands a designation of the superior and its inferiors.

It wouldn’t be hard for Chicken God to assume the role of a god, either. The IPOs’ eyes already have a hypnotic quality inducing religious-like devotion toward them. The questions I can ask, therefore, are:

What happened to Yako’s mom? Was she eaten by Chicken God, and so come to assume a womanly form if it so wished? If this was true, then Yako’s feelings for the Chicken God could very well be mixed with a child’s affection towards her mother.

Or did Yako’s mom perish in the clash occurring between this cult and the government when they found out about Chicken God?

Who were those 80 students, and to what purpose were they killed? How did Chicken God factor into this?

Was the Chicken God’s habit of granting favors to the weak, disabled, and marginalized a pragmatic preference, or a result of its formative experience with humanity?

What was Yako’s mom’s role in all of this? Was she the first follower, and therefore the first priestess? Or was she horrified by the abomination her daughter had awakened (though hinted to be her husband’s finding; more on that later)?

The last question concerns the origin of the Chicken God. If I recall correctly, all IPOs used to live scattered across the globe, until for some reason, they began to gather in Japan. Correct me if I misremembered about this one.

This is where the little tidbit of Furuya Shigetoshi’s scholarly pursuit comes in.

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

“We joined him to take part in the excavation of Uruk.”

My neural network remembered Uruk enough to immediately think, “Mesopotamia?” So I went to double-confirm.

Yes, Uruk was an important city for Sumerian urbanization. It’s so ancient that it has multiple layers of cities built on top of an older city. It had seen quite a lot of rise and fall in its lifetime, including its annexation by the Neo-Assyrian Empire around 850 BCE[1].

The actual name of the Chicken God, Ahu'az, seems fictional. But the word “Nirosca” reminded me of yet another thing I read before, so I went to check. Again. Well, the only thing that I found closest to it was “Nisroch,” which was some god of Assyria[2].  

There had been a scholarly effort in trying to ascertain what kind of god Nisroch was supposed to be.  Apparently, in the 1840s, a British archeologist had mistakenly identified “winged, eagle-headed genii[2]” figures as “Nisroch.” Near Eastern scholars nowadays refer to them simply as “griffin-demons.”

There are two points here that converge to one specific ancient Mesopotamian civilization: Assyria. I don’t know if this is the period Chicken God would reveal to have gained its first sentience, but I do wanna show you this Neo-Assyrian ivory sculpture[3][4].

Assyrian winged Sphinx, excavated from Kalhku (now Nimrud).

From Yako’s memory, we learn that Chicken God wasn’t always a bundle of wings and some occasional chicken feet. It could even possess long, silky hair—one Yako compared to her mother’s.

Could our Chicken God originate from the Neo-Assyrian period of the Mesopotamian civilization, within the context of After God’s universe?

I’m 90% sure that it came with Professor Shigetoshi and somehow fell out of his person near his own coffin, which Yako picked up. After all, before these gods were “gods,” they seemed to be very microscopic—almost like bacteriophages, or something similar. It wouldn’t be surprising if micro-Ahu'az hitched a ride on a certain Japanese man—or if captured by him—and came here.

But of course, there’s this talk about how the IPOs had been moving to Japan despite their places of origin. Who’s to say that this wasn’t the directed work of someone, which would have allowed his job of exterminating these gods easier if they were all in one place? Perhaps someone even more ancient than the gods are supposed to be—and an enemy of them, no less...

---

Well! How the fuck did I get here?

And this isn’t the only After God hypothesis we have. There’s the one about the animal representations of each god which could lead to a full-blown essay about Tokinaga, your (unexpected) favorite character (thanks to me! Ahahahhaha!). Not that I mind. I really like Tokinaga too. He’s so juicy and interesting—and Orokapi is just as intriguing too.

Hopefully, other fans of this manga will find this an entertaining read. If you’ve stuck out here for this long—

Thank you for reading my ramble!

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

Citations:

“Uruk” in Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uruk

“Nisroch” in Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nisroch

“عاجية اشورية تظهر طائر برأس انسان من كالخو ( النمرود حالياً ) القرن التاسع ق.م” in History of Mesopotamia. Twitter. https://x.com/GilgameshIQ/status/1537489293500899329

Nimrud Ivories عاجيات النمرود in Iraq In History. https://www.abualsoof.com/61-assyrian/detail/8604-assyrian-empire-age?tmpl=component

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : mid-autumn festival?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Christmas. You whore.

If you really want to keep your identity a secret, I suggest you zip that mouth of yours and stop telling me exactly what my best friend told me first thing when she came back. I can't put two and two together because all she told me was it was the guy I made out with on New Year's and my DUMBASS FORGOT WHO HE IS.

You're using the lingo right (as always) I'm probably around your age too, so don't worry too much about it.

Ugh, Ada supermodel... I should be happy but that only ever means weird male fans and girl fans that would dox me if I ever was down to earth about Ada as a person. I love her, but I also like the little circle of fans local to us right now. Since she's supermodel status now, she's probably going to be in Raccoon less and less. You know how the modeling life is.

Please don't stalk ANYONE. You don't need to stalk me down. If you know who I am, then surely you'll meet me eventually. Considering your language, we've probably already met before. Considering also the fact that you told me not to run off when you asked me for your number... I have a general idea of who you are as well. I still like writing letters to you, so I'd appreciate it if you just pursued me outside of the letters if you're really that desperate. I find dating face-to-face much better than through letters anyway. Though, you are going to have to be fairly obvious. All of my friends claim I'm dumb in the head when it comes to my own romantic life. I only ever notice people dating when it's others.

I don't appreciate that threat of yours. I'm sure I'll see you eventually, but probably not anytime soon. I don't even have shoots until later in the month, so even if you do see me, it'll be after you send me a letter back.

Favorite flower? Columbines, bellflowers, anemones, you know, the usual. Thinking about getting me flowers? I care much more for meaning than whether or not they're my favorite flowers. Though, if you were to ship flowers to my apartment, my roommate would probably hunt you down with her rifle, so I suggest not doing that.

I forgot a gift last time, but I appreciate the pressed four-leaf clover you went out and hunted nonetheless. I'm mailing you two mooncakes my roommate and I made (moreso me, but shh). Hope you like it. It doesn't have egg yolk in it. It's one lotus seed paste filling and one red bean. Lmk if you like it, since there's a high chance I'll have some leftover anyway.

God, this letter's long I'm in your walls :) scrambled eggs

"Welcome back." You look up at Ada from the couch, and she sighs.

"I hate this new life."

"No you don't."

"No I don't." She mumbles. "I love it."

"Is your manager considering having you move to a big city?"

"New York." Ada mumbles. "Most of my shoots are in the big city now, and they're arguing about how I can't keep living in Raccoon City. What happens if I leave you?"

"I leave the agency." You hum. "That easy."

"Easier said than done."

"My contract expires in a bit." You hand her the plate of mooncakes on the side table, and she sighs, biting into one. "I can choose to not renew my contract."

"It expires at the end of the year."

"They've started discussions with me already. I don't really want to keep modeling. The diet control and freakiness about how much I weigh isn't good for me. You know that too."

"You'll probably have to stop writing to your penpal then."

"They know who I am now anyway, so it doesn't matter. They'll probably find me in the next three months."

"You have that kind of confidence?"

"Yes. Ada. My penpal will chase me, and you can go chase your dreams. You deserve to." You toss your laptop to the side, wrapping your arms around her neck. "I'm happy I got to be in your life for so long. I'll only continue to stay, so have peace and keep going."

She wraps her arms around you, light frown on her face as she sighs. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. Also, the last chapter of my fic comes out today anyway, so it seems like a good time for you to start flying."

Ada rolls her eyes, pulling back to bonk your head.

"Boo."

"Boo you too." You roll your eyes. "You couldn't have racked up so many followers so quickly had it not been for my amazing writing skills, obviously."

"You're insane."

"And you're friends with me."

She only scoffs.

prev letter : masterlist : next post

[writingsfromhome]

Golf on TV

Ask: fluffy piece based on Lennon Stella’s Golf on TV (sorry I deleted the original ask but this song is so fluff so ty!)

—————————

I wake up to the bed made, for a second I don’t know where I am. My sleep-addled brain tries to catch up to the present moment. The present morning.

I was in bed, in my new home. It was Saturday morning.

Last night had been a late one. I was the co-lead in an intense case at work and the plaintiff’s team had been smoking our ass in court. Last night we’d gotten boxes of newly admitted evidence and every single person stayed well into the AM to sort it out. The other side liked to play dirty and this is how they did it. Little did they know we’d found our smoking gun. Never underestimate Stewart, Stone, and Nowak.

But I’d gotten home and passed out on the couch. Well, I’d gotten home to Harry passed out on the couch with the TV on. He must have tried staying up for me even though I had told him to go home. But he stayed.

I remember the tension leaving my body just seeing him snuggled on the couch, his face a kaleidoscope of colours reflecting off from the TV. I’d met Harry less than a year ago, a meet cute moment where both of us had gone for the same taxi. He’d waved me in like a gentleman and I’d invited him to share it. Turns out we were only going a few blocks from each other.

He was from London, in San Francisco for work. The taxi ride had been 27 minutes in total but in that time it felt like we’d known each other for 27 years.

As soon as I saw him on the couch, I’d dropped my jacket there, and gotten in beside him. He’d barely stirred, and I passed out pretty quickly thereafter.

I sit up and the sham that was draped over me falls over the side of the bed. I check my watch, still on my wrist. It was past 7. A solid 4.5 hours—that was a restful night for me ever since I took this case on.

Harry must have carried me to bed, I realize. And I’d been dead to the world while he did.

I never expected to see him again after that taxi ride. Until a few weeks later, he was waiting for me in the courthouse lobby. He’d looked me up, saw I had a case that morning, and waited. It was his last week in San Francisco and he wanted to take me on a date. He hadn’t stopped thinking about me, he’d said. I hadn’t either.

I’d dated plenty before him, had several boyfriends, even a situationship. Harry was the first guy I ever felt relaxed around. From that first date he made sure I felt cared for, that I was happy—he was unafraid to put me first. Even when he had to go back to London and we were long distance for three and a half months, we were always talking.

I’d felt unwanted before. Those were the days I chased after boys that only liked me for doing the chasing. Never did they actually want me. Because when they got me, they’d leave and keep me chasing them forever. Harry had never once been shy about the fact that he wanted me. That he chose me over everything.

We were always running towards each other. Never after each other.

I blink away the sleepiness and notice Harry had put me in a tshirt. It was the little things.

That’s when I hear the voices coming from downstairs. Harry…and my mom.

It was time to get up.

“Good morning princess,” my mom spots me first. I looked bad this morning—even though Harry had attempted to take my makeup off whenever he’d taken me to bed, and replaced my slacks for shorts, I still had craters for eye bags and a tangled bedhead, and dehydrated and inflamed skin from sleeping with makeup. But mom never stopped calling me princess.

“Harry and I were just making pancakes,” she points to the griddle behind her. God, mom loved Harry. It was weird because she’d only ever met 2 of my boyfriends since I started dating as a teen. She hated both of them and was never shy about it. All the others she’d heard about over the phone or a late night snack at her house back when she lived close to where I worked. She hated them all equally. “We’re worried you’re not eating enough.”

I catch eyes with Harry, it was a constant argument with us. But it was hard to eat with a regular appetite when I was so close to the end of big cases. He knew that. He used my mom as a shield to push his own agenda, they worked as a team like that.

But it never made me mad. It was more caring than any ex had ever been.

“Pancakes are your favourite,” Harry says while towel-drying his hands. He’d been ‘washing up’, as he would say with his accent.

“They are,” I say as he walks around the island to me and kisses my cheek. He was always weirdly chaste around my mom, nothing like his behaviour late nights in bed.

Mom grins at me from behind him. She was obsessed.

So was I though.

“Let’s eat!” Mom says. “C’mon, we gotta eat before they get cold. Y/N grab the fruit behind you.”

“Sure mom,” I grab the bowl she prepared. Harry watches mom leave the kitchen with the pancakes and syrup. As soon as she’s out of sight he tugs me right against him.

“Y’know you don’t have to wait for her to leave to be my boyfriend?”

“Is that what I am?” He nuzzles my neck. “I thought I was just your boy-toy.”

“Nah,” I let him kiss me even though we’re both smiling. “My boy-toy’s like, 5 years younger than you are.”

“Yeah well, he’s not the one trying to take your makeup off at 5am while you talk about invoices and flash drives.”

“Oops,” I must have been talking about our smoking gun in my sleep. I couldn’t even rest unconscious. “Thank you for that. You could have left me on the couch.”

“Maybe if I was your boy-toy. But I’m your strong English boyfriend, I take you to bed.”

“And you do it so well,” I pat his arm condescendingly, stealing one more kiss before skirting away. I leave him chuckling in the kitchen and gathering the coffee for breakfast.

Before Harry, I didn’t realize love could be so selfless. That it didn’t have to hurt all the time. That one person could be enough.

“Y/N?” Mom asks. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” I’d gotten lost in thought and I see Harry smirk. I guess I was just staring at him.

“For your dad’s birthday coming up?!” She sighs. “I’ve been talking about his dinner—Harry said he has to go back to London the week before. I thought we could do a birthday dinner early so Harry can be there. You know your dad would like that.”

He would. My dad was just as keen on Harry, telling me that he was good for me—the way a man should be. Those were his exact words.

I remember I’d been confused at first when Harry and I started long-distance dating. He was more stable and consistent than relationships I’d had where we lived inches apart. Being long-distance, I’d only missed him physically when we were apart, he was still there for me in every other way.

When he officially transferred to his San Francisco office 5 months ago, he had surprised me. I remember opening my door to him standing there with flowers and macarons—my favourite dessert. I’d nearly smashed them all when I screamed and threw myself onto him.

After that moment I knew I was done with romanticizing dysfunction and compromising. His love was healthy and pure, and it was for me.

I tried my best to give that to him in return. Lately I’d been a bad girlfriend working long hours and barely seeing him. But I’d make it up to him. He didn’t know this but I’d booked the same flight to London with him, that’s why mom was trying to move dad’s birthday dinner up. So I’d be there too.

“Sounds great,” I say. “That way we can all make it.”

“Perfect I’ll make us a reservation.” Mom picks up her phone and begins typing on it with one finger, one key at a time. She tsks, “Oh why is it doing this now.”

“Here Mrs. Y/l/n,” Harry holds his hand out. “What are you trying to do.”

“This new update has been driving me crazy,” she hand her phone to Harry. He glances at me and we bite back a smile. Mom was notorious for being Bad at Technology. But Harry was always patient and tried teaching her.

“The search bar’s on the bottom now,” Harry shows her. “That’s where you type it in.”

“It was fine at the top why do they always have to move it around, gah I’ll just do this on a computer.”

“Yeah no rush mom,” I say.

“Well I’ll clear the table now. I need to get going soon I have a squash game at half eight.”

“Yeah I need be in by then.” Court opened at 9:30 today and I had to be there a half hour early to submit what we had.

“You two stay here,” mom begins piling plates. She’s surprisingly strong when she snatches the mug Harry’s trying to take away himself. “Let me clean up. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thanks for the breakfast mom!” I shout as she heads away. Harry echoes a thank you.

“Don’t thank me,” I hear her mumble as she walks away.

Me and Harry are left grinning at each other. He holds his hand out on the table and I clasp his.

“Your mum’s sweet.”

“My mum,” I tease him. I keep his hand held as I go around the table to his seat. He tugs me down onto his lap. “Did you actually call your mom mummy as a kid?”

“Did you call your mum mommy?” Harry asks in a decent American accent.

“Maybe,” I smile.

“Maybe.” He replies.

“I’ll just ask your mum when I meet her someday.”

“She really does want to meet you.” He says seriously. “She thinks I’m deliberately keeping you away.”

“Maybe you are, so she can’t answer all the burning questions I have about you.”

“I can just imagine you and her teaming up against me. My sister will join in too.”

I’d met his sister a few months back when she visited. We hit it on immediately just like Harry and I had. It was a bit of a relief.

“I can’t wait to swap stories over breakfast with your mom.”

“Oh you’d love her breakfast,” Harry smiles fondly. I feel a twinge then, sometimes I wondered if he ever got homesick. Especially when he talked about memories from home. “She does the best English breakfast. You’d have to try black pudding though.”

I crinkle my nose, “Isn’t that the one with the blood?”

“Mmmm it sure is,” he grips my hips and a shiver shoots up my spine.

“Gross! Why would anyone eat that? Or your-what’s that other pudding thing? The one you tried making last winter that’s all puffy-“

“Yorkshire.” He smiles.

“You literally poured hot oil on your mixture. It’s clogging my pores just thinking about it.”

“That’s it. You’re coming to London before the year is over and you’re going to be begging for more when you have a proper roast. What I made at home was a pathetic attempt.”

“Mmm I don’t get it.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “I just don’t get English food. It’s like people who wear crocs, or golf on TV, I don’t get it.”

“You just descibed,” Harry tucks my hair behind my ear, “the perfect date. We’re sorted for the weekend.”

I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I love you.” I kiss him. He pulls me back to him when I part.

“I love you.”

“I really do need a shower before I head in though,” I remind him.

“Maybe I’ll join you,” he says low enough so my mom can’t hear.

“If you’re brave enough with mom still here.” I tease.

“Okay hon,” she pops out of nowhere. “I’m heading out. Good luck with court today.”

“Thanks mom.” I get up and give her a big squeeze. “I appreciate you dropping by.”

“Of course. And I’ll drop dinner by tonight I saw the state of your fridge, you should clean that thing out y/n.”

“Yess mom,” I roll my eyes. Harry snickers behind me. Mom should see his fridge, it was half beer cans and takeout containers.

While mom tells Harry about the dinner she would drop by for us I get a headstart on my shower. It was already quarter to 8 and I couldn’t waste any more time.

Harry joins me shortly after, he lowers my hands when he gets in and washes my hair slowly with care. I nearly pass out in the shower with how good his fingers feel on my scalp.

“Thank you,” I turn to him after I wash it out.

“Don’t mention it love,” he kisses my temple.

“Harry,” I suddenly feel choked up. I think his scalp massage had unblocked some chakra stuff because I’m suddenly overwhelmed with feeling.

“What?” He tilts my face up.

“I’m just…I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

“Nonsense.” He swipes my tear away even though the stream of water makes it all the same.

“No I…I never thought I’d meet someone like you. I used to think love was hurting. It doesn’t make sense anymore-“

“Like golf on TV.”

“Yeah,” I laugh and it breaks up the knot in my throat. “Yeah like golf on TV. Now being in love feels like soccer-“

“Football.”

“Soccer,” I correct him. He grins. “It makes sense to me.”

“If you didn’t have work in 30 minutes,” Harry pulls me into him and crushes me against him. It feels good, like being held together. “You’d be face down in bed in the next 10 seconds.”

“Where’s this Harry when my mom’s around.” I tease.

“This Harry’s just for you.” He says just as he turns the shower off. I draw away as he grabs us some towels and I watch him with an unbreakable joy; if it was physical it could illuminate this tiled shower and bounce around the whole room.

He was the reason I got through all these gruelling hours for court. Because I knew I had someone waiting for me, that I could steal an hour away with, and it would leave me refuelled enough for another 24 hour work-day.

“Why are you smiling at me like that,” Harry asks as he hands me the towel. I shake my head and wrap it around me. He watches as I blow dry my hair, kissing my shoulder when I’m done.

“I’ll leave when you leave. Should I drop you off to the office?”

“Please?” I ask. “That’d give me an extra 5 minutes.”

His face lights up.

“No,” I say as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. “No Harry I have to be early!”

“I only need 2,” he says as he launches me onto the bed. “Maybe 3.”

I pretend to be annoyed but I inch up in bed as he makes his way over and I can’t think of a better way to spend the extra 5 minutes. Or 10. Oops.

If the old me ever met the new me, she’d probably try to stop me. She didn’t know what love could look like. That it could be a gentle smile, a drive in to work, making sure you’re eating, helping your mom out with her phone, or washing your hair for you in the shower.

I’d tell her—the old me, that it was as simple as this: I wanted him, only him. And he wanted me too.

[defectivefanboy]

Hey there! I’ve read a few of your posts now and I truly enjoy your writing, you’re very good at it ^^

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

If not, that’s completely alright! I hope you have a great rest of your day <3

~ 🕷️🕸️

yessir!! this is actually the first time (and second for good measure) that I watched Beetlejuice fully through.

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and I don't mind female readers on my blog, I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer fuck off????????????????? ew.

C/W: Cursing, Mentions of Pervertedness, its Beetlejuice, You're canonical Jesus Christ /j, or am I?, Dark humor, Possessive Alastor, Mentions of Bite marks, Dirt ball reader, just reader being gross here and there, nothing too much, youre Beetlejuice, reader has universal rizz

Notes: If you read the C/W warnings it was real late leave me alone. you'll understand when you get there. writing this my mind kept straying and just wanted to write Alastor love because god holy fuck I love him. Im an actual slut for domestic alastor I could write him all day.

The Radio Show...

Oh he's truly interested in you. Not remotely romantic or even platonically, but he is interested (at least at first)

Lets be real quick, he knows hes in hell, but what IN the hell is he looking at.

And what was that outfit you were wearing??? Did you just get out of prison prom???

But your first meeting with him was... interesting to say the least

But then again I think all your interactions are interesting (always more, never less)

But damn. He just had to think the 'sinner' was new to hell and could easily get a quick bite

Poor Alastor really thought the 'sinner' that looked around hell like a lost child as he strolled up with his uncanny smile

Last thing he expected was a jumpy, sporadic, and unfortunately a bit more then a little bit of a pervert.

The record stopped more than a few time at your comments–- Sorry Alastor.

And it had only been a few minutes of meeting you (rip)

And to be honest with you. come here. little closer

He did not know what in all of hell you were trying to pitch to him

He couldn't even get a word in with how fast you talked

And how many voices you did, you basically had a conversation to yourself.

"Ghost can't even scare humans away anymore, pfft. Can't you believe that shit. The last jack offs wouldn't even call me, I had to get some human girl to do it. Is it weird it happened twice? Second time her mom was dead! Gets funnier each time."

Oh?

Humans?

Now you have his interest

And you were able to travel to the human world

"So you're a hell born demon then, correct?" Alastor asked quirking a brow at the questionable individual in front of him, who quickly stopped talking to, well, themselves and snapped their head to him. They seemed to had just gotten here... or gotten back, as their clothes were slightly tussled and their hair was flying everywhere

With a quick dusting of your clothes you straightened your posture. Clearing your throat you spoke in a flat monotone voice. "Well, no actually, uhm, I was born in a manger inside of a barn, my mother, was a virgin and my step father Jospeh was a real piece of work let me tell you that. Died for your sins, y'know, should be thanking me."

This is the first time the radio show had gone radio silent... before he walked away.

Alastor had met a lot of demons, probably killed even more.

Hell he has even put up with that horny spider, but this was the first time he had to take a breather from another sinner? demon? enigma?

But damn it all to hell, he was curious

He had been for so long and he had only interacted with lower hellborn demons.

The occasional Goetia or hell royal would make a public appearance, but that that was all.

Never had he interacted with someone who went from hell to the human world on the daily

The first few meetings he truly tried to keep his distance, keyword tried

But you can only keep a person who teleports around at a distance for some long

Though it to end in you being pushed back by his microphone when you got a bit too close on accident more often then not

But overall he enjoys each of your meetings, enjoy being used loosely

He was more interested in the ever changing world of humans

You only get as knowledgeable of the new world as it comes in, but you have to find them

So having a way to always keep updated he truly enjoyed.

He kinda saw you as, well, while he would say a mole, as you get him information

Not that you honestly realize, you kinda just talk about random shit

He sees you as well, as uh, ahem...

"Quite the squirrelly fellow you are, aren't you?" He quipped with a smile on his face. The both of you walking along one of the many roads of hell as you talked about your latest excursion to the human world. Giving him a confused look you gave him a side eye a you spoke. "Now, what do you mean by that, hm? I don't storage tree nuts in my cheeks, I storage metal nuts in them." Taking your hand you drug into your cheek and pulled out a rusted nut before offering it to him. In which he squatted away with his microphone.

"No."

Alastor in or out of a relationship now seems like the calm one out of the pair whenever you two are together

And he always has a tilt to his head whenever he's with you as if he's always curious about your next move (well bc he honestly is)

Getting into a relationship is simple to him, but not to you.

He had to explain a few times (many times) to you that you two were on a date while out. Thank the lord he has more patience then he let's on

Truly he's only patient with you after learning he'll get no where either way

He tried threatening at one point, but it didn't work when you tried getting him to work for you in the human world.

Spoiler alert: that also didn't work

Alastor did tried to ask you out in a traditional way. Taking you to dinner, albeit at a cannibal restaurant, he really didn't know what you ate

He was disgusted when he found out, almost gagged, had to take a moment for himself

But he tried asking you out in a nice, classy, quiet place.

Spoiler again: didnt work

His question when right over your head.

"Go out? Aren't we already out? What we doing then? How more out do you wanna be? Gotta say though, never been to a place this fancy, must got some walking cash, huh? You know we could start a business together I be the brains, face and you can be..." You droned on as your hand flared around as you spoke. Alastor stared at you as static rumbled from his chest, one eye twitching in annoyance. Sighing he shook his head as he stared with a smile. Maybe you didn't understand what he was asking, or maybe you did. To be honest he doesn't know how much you know, but maybe letting you go on about whatever it is you're planning and get a deal out of you.

Nothing big, just a small pact that you two are "partners."

Cheeky Bastard.

He did tell you eventually someday, he's not heartless

Don't mention that it was after he had convinced you to move in his home (or apartment?? he staying at the hotel?? like??)

But it's another story for getting you to take a shower or a bath.

While Alastor isn't a clean freak or anything he much rather keep his house clean and smell free.

Alastor had quite a few sleepiness nights when you decided to sneak into his bed without a shower.

He almost banned you from the house until you agreed to take a shower after 'work'

now onto the good part

While he doesnt enjoy physical touch from anyone, only part taking in it when he's making someone uncomfortable

He settled on the fact you were gonna keep making every effort to get into his personal space

You only found out he enjoyed having you near him when your items from the guest room you had been staying in were now in his room

Be it having a hand placed on the middle of your back or letting you fiddle with his fingers as you talk

He always finds a way to get a touch in on a daily basis

What can he say? he likes to have a hold on what's his

That's another thing

He's a possessive lover, or person in general but ignore that right now

He just doesn't understand

Why do you have so much rizz

Both sinners and hell born demons seem to love you

And he hates it

Loathes it

If we wanted to get Nsfw real quick

He likes to leave bites and marks on you so even humans know where you belong <3

Going back to sfw

On the outside, beyond the walls of his home. He's well, he's Alastor

Cunning, Cruel, and Evil

But inside? .......Hey Siri, can you domestic a deer?

We already know he enjoys cooking, his mothers recipes are always a hit. He does have to convince you to eat something if it's new.

But he's decently domestic within the comfort of his own walls. As domestic as he can be will a feral dog in his home now. At least you're potty trained, right? Right??

He always enjoyed being alone, especially when he needed a break.

But as weird as it was for the first few months

Going to bed alone in a quiet home, everything neat and orderly was always a treat for the

just to wake up to a god awful mess like a hurricane had hit only the inside of the house.

Thankfully he's unable to fully freak out when he feels the weight of a body laying on him.

Arms wrapped securely in place as he moved around trying to view the full scope of the mess.

The look of defeat only rested on his face for a moment before he was pulled down by striped arms.

"What are staring at, red?..." You said half asleep as you pulled on the back up his shirt collar. "it's still too early to worry about the mess. Come back to bed" He gently shook his head in disgust opening his mouth to speak before getting cut off by a strong pull of his shirt. "I was setting up... sandworm traps. Couldn't't let them get my dearest deer." Alastor gave you a questioning look wanting to ask, but knowing better not too.

Sighing he let himself relax back into the comforter and wrap his arms loosely around as you laid right back on top of him. One of his hands softly treaded through your messy hair causing you to sigh and melt into his body. It was a quiet few moments until he had a passing thought.

"Wait... deer with an A, correct? Correct??"

He wasn't getting an answer from you anytime soon...

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 26: She Knew Something I Didn't

Screenshot by: @boardchairman-blog

Bearblr Promptober Day 26: Coffee Shop

Summary: Carmy reflects on meeting his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) at a coffee shop.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, self-loathing, mentioned fight with Syd, mentions of patient loss for Darling, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns (759 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

26 Oct 2024

I met her at a coffee shop.

Sounds dumb. Also, unbelievable because my dumbass self went to a fucking coffee shop, but I promise you, it was for a good reason. Syd and I had a bad fight roundabouts the first month we were open. The kind that plays over and over in your head on a loop because you can’t figure out why you’re so riled up about it? Half the time, it’s because you acted a fucking asshole and you’re trying to spin the story in your head to make yourself feel less like shit about it. The other half, it's because you weren’t enough of an asshole and wish you could get a redo and really let the other person have it, just unleash fuck-all knows how many years of frustration pent up in the pressure cooker you shove everything else into because no one taught our parents how to deal with their emotions—so they never taught us.

It was the former for me. I was an asshole.

I’m rambling again.

We had a bad fight. You’re not even fucking listening to me anymore. Can you even hear me? Do you even know I’m here? Do you know you’re not in the walk-in anymore? Where the fuck is your head, Carmy? We can’t do daily fucking menu changes, what the fuck is wrong with you? That kind of bad.

The worst part of the ordeal—of her blowing up at me, of that role-reversal—was that it worked. Or maybe the worst part was that it was justified. Thinking about it now, I was really fucking losing it. Like properly off the deep end, screaming bubbles under water, a wild animal choking itself against its collar. It was that last bit, the “what the fuck is wrong with you” that broke through whatever the fuck was going on with me. What the fuck was wrong with me? No, in all seriousness, what was it? Why did my next instinct default to replaying her coffee order over and over again in my head to add to the cacophony of screaming? That’s not fucking normal, is it?

Is it? What the shit is normal even?

So, yeah, I went to the local coffee place she likes with the plan to grab her coffee, but there was this girl sitting at the corner table, right? The one by the windows. Hair neat but out of the way, sunglasses on the crown of her head, cardigan made of these squares that had daisies in them (I’ve since learned they’re crocheted granny squares—the fuck kind of a name is granny squares). It’s right as winter turns to spring (or Stop Fucking Raining season). Maybe it was the color of her cardigan that caught my attention—the green in those squares. Maybe I was just a lonely fuck still smarting over a relationship that I fucked up.

Fine. I’ll give you credit. Maybe it was God.

She waved at me. Smiled. Normally, I’m a bit of a dick and forget to smile back, favoring a weird old-man nod (it’s a habit I picked up from Cicero, I’m pretty sure), but she drew a smile from me. Something about how unexpectant she was. She didn’t want anything from me, just wanted to acknowledge my existence as one-tick-closer-to-happy-than-background-noise. I grabbed coffee for myself, planned on grabbing Syd’s later (I did remember to, it managed a truce, but that’s not exactly a great behavior pattern, is it? Reminds me too much of ma). Wandered over to her table. She moved her books before I asked if I could join her.

What possessed me to?

Heartache? Regret? Misery? Loneliness? Her cardigan? First person I noticed in as many weeks? I don’t know. I don’t think it matters. I’ve asked her since then why she smiled at me. As if she somehow knew something I didn’t.

She was at the coffee shop on a short leave from work. She had a brutal case the day before—17-year-old kid caught in a car accident who was in the OR for 18 hours hovering between life and death, only to then go into anaphylactic shock at the antibiotics started on him post-op and then not make it. The only other person who survived was the mother, but upon learning that she was the only one left, she rapidly deteriorated. Didn’t make it, either.

Her answer? “I smile at everyone. There isn’t enough positivity in the world.”

I swear to whatever is holy and unholy, I will protect this woman with my life.

[shadowqueenjude]

@kateprincessofbluewhales posted about how it's difficult to make a really good villain both compelling but also still objectively bad without making it weird. So, I compiled a list of some of the villains I think are very compelling (note: this does NOT mean I like any of these characters, they're just great villains) There will be spoilers, so look away if you haven't read most popular series! Luke Castellan from Percy Jackson was a very compelling villain to me. A young man who grew up with a mentally insane mother and an absentee father who grew to resent being thought as less than others and desired to be seen. He wanted all the gods' children to be acknowledged, which is actually a noble goal, but he was highly misled. Eventually, he came to doubt but it was too late for him as he had possessed Kronos's body but he is eventually the one who kills Kronos. And Percy makes sure Luke's last wish comes true. Maven Calore from Red Queen is quite similar to Luke in that he grew up thinking he was less than. I won't elaborate much because I know Kate hasn't read the series yet, but THIS LINE FROM MAVEN OMG!!!

“Are you really so surprised? Poor Mavey, the second prince. The shadow of his brother’s flame. A weak thing, a little thing, doomed to stand to the side and kneel.” I read this series years ago and I still think about this line so- I actually think Umbridge was a great villain. Not because I liked her or felt for her in any way, but because she was exemplary of the political corruption, of people wanting to shut down the truth because it doesn't suit their narrative. I mean, how many people like that have you met? She's a power-hungry bitch. Micah Domitus is such a good villain. He had that whole angle of being one of the more "decent" archangels while also being "forced" to assert his authority while actually being a manipulative dick the whole time and I love it. Just wish he had lasted longer. Amarantha is honestly such a good villain. I could definitely understand her hatred towards humans and she is another villain who really ought to have lasted longer.