#then doing everything to save love of their life

[classyrbf]

DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! #2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi x mom!reader, toji x reader, angst, family issues/trauma, absent father, implications of suicidal thoughts, talks of depression, toji is an assassin/in a gang, implications of murder, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

part 1

It was a chilly Saturday morning. The birds chirped as snow fell from the sky, laying a thick blanket across the trees and ground. Megumi was still asleep while you cooked breakfast for him like you always did. His favorite being eggs, hash browns and bacon. Two weeks ago you could’ve sworn your relationship with your son was ruined, came crashing down when he found out about his father. Toji Fushiguro. Though, it only seems like the situation only brought you closer than ever. He kept asking you about him, what he was really like, how he talked, what he used to wear, did he play any sports. He asked everything. And you told him everything.

You didn’t forget one detail about Toji. From the fifteen years that he’s been gone, you still remember every detail on his face like it was just yesterday. You remember the exact clothes he was wearing the night he left and you remember the look in his eyes when he walked out the door while you pleaded for him not to go. Fifteen years and it still breaks your heart to remember. Sometimes you wished you forgotten about him. Every since then you haven’t been with anyone else. You’ve tried and failed. Went on dates, went out to clubs and bars, whatever it was, but no one was him. No one was your Toji.

Some of your high school friends live happy lives, married, nice house and car with a big family and of course the family pet. But you never got your fairytale ending. You didn’t get the easy way like everyone else. It was just you and your son the entire time and whatever hardships you endured, it was for him. After Toji left you fell into a depression. You never left the house unless it was to get groceries or other essentials, but otherwise you were cooped up. It was just you and your son. Crying yourself to sleep every night seemed like the only option you had at that time. Wasting hours trying to call Toji only for it to go straight to voicemail. You prayed he come back for you two. But he didn’t. Years and years went by and you lost hope. You believed he was dead and maybe he was.

You loved Megumi so much. Everything you did was for him, every battle fought. He was the reason you kept going. He couldn’t grow up without a mother and a father. He doesn’t know that he’s saved your life.

“Mom?” You hear your sons groggy voice as he walks into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder and laugh at the way he stands there, his hair messy and one of his eyes barely open.

“Morning, Megs. I’m just making you breakfast.” You smile. He hums in response, turning back around and dragging his feet into the bathroom. Even down to the mannerisms he acts exactly like him. You shake your head with a laugh, turning the stove off and grabbing his plate to toss the scrambled eggs on top. “Megs, your food is on the table when you’re done!” You shout. You run over to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice and pouring him a glass when the doorbell rings. “Hold on!”

Putting the juice away, you walk over to the door with the glass in hand. “Who is it?” You ask.

“It’s me.” A voice speaks. It almost sounds recognizable, but not. Your brows furrow while undoing the locks and when you open the door, the frigid air cuts through the warmth of your house and surrounds you.

“You must have the wrong—” As you look up, your eyes widen and the glass drops from your hair, shattering against the wooden floor. Your mouth opens to say something but not a word comes out. It was like you were stuck, frozen. Tears filled your eyes as you took in the man who was standing in front of you. “Toji…?” You utter, bringing a shaky hand up to your mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grew slightly taller, his hair shorter and you can see the slight wrinkles in his face. He was a lot more muscular too, but nonetheless he still looked like him.

“Oh my god!” You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Toji!” You sobbed. Being in his embrace felt so natural despite how long it’s been. He hugged you back, clenching his eyes shut as he breathed in your scent.

“Mom?! What was that?!” Megumi came rushing out the bathroom running towards where he heard the glass break. Instead, he halted in his steps when he saw the familiar face he only recently learned from photos. “Dad?”

Toji opened his eyes, his expression dropping when he saw Megumi standing there in front of him. You removed yourself from his arms, turning to see your son standing there with tears in his eyes. “Megs, it’s your dad.” You smiled, wiping your tears.

And Toji couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like he was looking at a younger version of himself. But he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He knows it’s been fifteen years, but he was still expecting to see his two year old son walking towards him. Toji stepped into the house, slowly walking towards Megumi, hesitating to say or do anything until Megumi jumped into arms. “Dad!” He cried.

Toji clung to his son, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered against his hair. “Please forgive me.” He breathed. You stood there with pursed lips watching the two of them reunited, but hearing Toji’s apologies broke your heart. “I never wanted to leave you. You understand me?” Toji pulled Megumi away so that he was looking at him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ive missed you too.” Megumi nodded his head wiping his tears. “Mom told me. She told me everything. I don’t blame you, dad.” He sniffled, shaking his head. Toji looked towards you his eyes softening. It’s like you could see everything within him. All the regret, the sadness, the anger he’s been holding within him for all this time.

He stepped towards you, cupping your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “You still look so beautiful.” He smiled. “I never once stopped thinking about you.” He said, holding back tears. “You and Megs were always with me. I’m sorry for leaving you, baby.” He hugged you.

It was hard not to cry. You couldn’t hold in your emotions. Not anymore. Everything that you’ve been holding back was finally letting out. You missed him. You missed seeing him with Megumi. You missed his voice, his scent, his everything. “It was so hard, Toji.” You cried. “I needed you. We needed you.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “Be angry with me, do whatever you want to me. I’m just happy to have you both back.”

You could never hate him. That was never a thought in your head. You could never hate the man you love. All you could do was understand him and his pain. He was hurting just as much as you. He left to protect you and your son. “I thought you were dead.” Your voice broke through your sobs. “I thought…”

“Shhh, shhh, I’m here now,” he whispered. “I’m right here.” He kissed you again. “Come here, little man.” Toji opened his arm, allowing Megumi to hug him.

Toji thought he’d never live to see this day. He began losing hope, drowning in his fears and bad choices. When he left, he remembered your cries, carrying that hurt in his heart for years. He only dug himself into a deeper hole trying to get out of it. Trying to protect you and Megs, he did unspeakable things, shit that left him traumatized. The amount of blood on his hands was staggering. But it was all just to have his family back.

That life was well behind him now. It’s been behind him for months. All this he’s been looking for you, jumping through hoops to even get a glimpse of you and Megumi. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you moved on, if you found someone else and replaced him, deciding to leave this hellish place. But you stayed. Despite everything, you stayed.

“You’ve gotten so damn big.” Toji eyes scanned over Megumi. “About as tall as me.” He laughed.

“Yeah, well, I do look exactly like you.” He shrugged, smiling. “I’ve been hearing it my whole life. It’s finally nice to see the original.”

“The original, huh? I ain’t that damn old,” he scoffed.

Seeing them already get along and bicker with each other like it came naturally gave you a warm feeling in your chest. You’ve never seen Megumi’s eyes so full of life, like he found his other half. And in a sense, he did. You did as well. All of you did.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair. “A lot.”

“I know. But can you promise me one thing?” Megumi asked.

“Of course.” Toji was quick to answer.

“Please, don’t leave me again. I don’t care what it is. Promise me you’ll never leave me, dad.” Megumi nervously began biting the skin off of his bottom lip.

Toji stared at his son. “I promise.”

a/n: a lot of you wanted a part 2 so I made one. I hope it lived up to the expectations tbh cause I wasn’t really sure what y’all wanted to me to write

[deadhands69]

Ramen & Rain

Katsuki Bakugo x gn Reader

Ramen Date

just a weird fluff Bakugo fic mostly written at 3am. not quite the direction it was intended to go but it still ends ish as planned. mentions of angst, turns into fluff.

“Sorry for your breakup,” you say to the messy haired blonde seated next to you at the hero rankings after-party, “are you doing okay?”

“Huh?” he grumbled before remembering the bullshit his PR team spun earlier that week. 

“Oh, that.” He sits uncomfortably, staring down the tablecloth at the tiny high top the two of you were perched at. “Um, that was fake.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, my PR team thinks it’ll humanize me to date likable people so they have me take models and whatever on dates.” He pauses, considering if he’d like to tell you the next part, “and a few times they also did this when I was photographed with one night stands. I guess that’s not so likable either or something,” he mumbles down at his lap.  

Your thoughts flash back to every headline you’d read about pro-hero Dynamite’s intriguing love life. Much to his team’s credit, you did fall for it.

“So, you haven’t actually dated any of those girls in the pictures?” 

“Nope,” his finishes his drink, hoping the glass blocked at least some of his blushing face.

“Have you dated anyone?”

“Have you?” he retorts, barely able to make eye contact.

Please say no, he hopes. 

He tried to ask you out once, in your second year of high school together. But he was going through some things. And you are you. He couldn’t imagine you being interested in anything but perfect when it’s what you deserve. One day, he figured, he could give you that. So he waited.

And of course you had no idea he liked you. Not when his way of showing it was hitting you harder while sparing, having higher expectations of you than everyone else, and exploding at you every time you so much as glanced at him (because he thought you caught him staring.)

“Well, there was Shouto in high school,” you begin.

Of course Bakugo knows about this, he hated it. 

You and Shouto had been best friends since halfway through your first year. So, it didn't surprise too many people in your third year when he asked you to go out with him. Of course you had a massive crush on him for years at that point. He's beautiful, who in your class hadn't been into him?

And it was… Cute. 

While it lasted. 

You held hands. He walked you to class. The two of you always had meals together, but it felt different once you were officially together. You never kissed or anything but that's okay, it was new. 

Exactly nine days and four hours is when it all came crashing down. 

Feeling worked after training, you went to bed early. You'd meet up with your boyfriend in the morning. No big deal. 

Little did you know, your puppy love relationship was falling apart before your head even hit the pillow. 

“Hey, Icy Hot! What are you doing checking out Ponytail when you're already dating the hottest person in our class?” Bakugo berated Todoroki. 

Confused, he responded as bluntly as he ever did, “but y/n isn't the hottest one in our class. Momo is.”

Katsuki’s red eyes pierced through him, clearly he was missing something. 

“Wait, are you not dating y/n??”

“No, I am.”

“...then what the fuck.”

After much back and forth, it came out that Iida told Todoroki everyone should aspire to date their best friend. He took that to heart and asked you out without considering if he like liked you. 

He didn't. 

And he told you that the next morning.

It’s not Shouto’s fault his comprehension of human emotion is so limited. This didn’t make being broken up with by him any easier though. Everything was matter of fact, no sugar coating. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” you mumbled to your feet, trying to think of any excuse to leave and save yourself the embarrassment of bursting into tears in front of your classmates. His mismatched eyes stared at you, still confused about the whole situation. 

“I have to go finish some homework now, see ya later.” Turning away, you hope you played it off well enough. No one seemed to notice as you walked heavily through the common space with a face made of stone until you reached the elevator. 

Bakugo did though, and he was pissed at Todoroki for fumbling so hard that you got hurt. Their already unstable friendship took a massive hit after that. Eventually, after a lot of adjusting, Katsuki reasoned he could be okay with you dating someone else if it meant you were happy (and they were perfect and checked every single box he decided someone would need to in order to be worthy of you.) This wasn’t it though.

“I don't mean high school. That one didn't count, ” he says, remembering how helpless he felt watching you being heartbroken when you never did anything to deserve it. 

“Okay, well there was…”

The girl you were with for a whole month before discovering she was a villain, just using you because she thought she could get top secret information. She didn’t.

Then there was the guy you met at a coffee shop who stuck around for a while. He thought you were attractive but didn’t want more than sex and wasn’t sure how to bring that up. You being a hero was terrifying to him and he thought you’d stop sleeping with him when you realized that’s all he was there for. You did. 

And Shinsou, who had the most amicable breakup with. He’s nocturnal and you’re well, not quite. After not seeing each other for three weeks, you decided your schedules just weren’t compatible and called it. No media outlets picked up on it since there was nothing to pick up on. 

Bakugo shifts uncomfortably in front of you. Brows furrowed and face unreadable to most. A twinge of jealousy overtakes him. Sure, the two of you haven’t talked much since graduation, but he still has feelings for you. And hearing about all the losers who had a chance when he never did didn’t sit right with him.

On top of that, admittedly, he also feels guilty. Maybe if he'd asked you out all those years ago he could have saved you from this pain. His assumption you’d settle for nothing but perfect had been shattered, leaving him to accept that he shouldn’t have left you craving closeness from anyone but him. He should have been there. 

He’s here now though. At this point in life, he knows he isn’t perfect but he could at least do better than everyone else you mentioned. If you let him.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks abruptly.

“What?”

“Wanna go somewhere else? The food sucks here, there’s a good ramen shop that’s open late down the street.” 

“You asking me on a date, Dynamite?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he replies dead serious, “I am.”

 Suddenly you’re the one feeling flustered. A date with Katsuki Bakugo? 

After a quick stop at coat check, the two of you are out the door. Running down the marble stairs to the rough sidewalk, his hand lightly around your wrist to guide you. A rain storm earlier left the streets glimmering, neon reflections from the surrounding shops. A few people trickle in and out of businesses in the typically bustling area, but tonight it feels like a ghost town. 

Then you’re there.

He pulls you through an unassuming door. With a quick wave to the person behind the counter, they informally gesture the two of you towards the small seating area. 

Sit wherever.

You slide over the cracked upholstery at a table in the corner. The pink sign lighting up the window casts a glow over his face, the warm color suits him.

When you left your place earlier, you never expected to end up on a date. Especially not here. The location being as much of a surprise as his sudden interest. 

Sure, you always thought he was cute, but you never knew him. He spent all of high school keeping you at arm’s length. Then after, you’ve spent years basing your assumptions about Bakugo off the headlines you’d read. The dates he went on. Always models and idols. Fancy restaurants, valets, and expensive cars.

But this is real.

Across the table, you watch as he slides his suit jacket off. You hadn’t realized how stuffy the atmosphere was earlier until you see him relax, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up. You forgot about the scars.

The woman running the shop approaches to take your order, not bothering to ask him - it appears he gets the same thing every time he comes in. Having been distracted, you quickly pick the first menu item that jumps out to you. She disappears into the kitchen.

“So, what do you want,” he asks, sitting too casually for the depth of the conversation he’s bringing up. He needs to ask though, otherwise how will he know what to do? “You told me what didn’t work but not what you actually wanted in any of that.”

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. I’ve just been working and-”

“Bullshit,” direct, but his tone is playful as he flashes a slightly crooked smile at you.

Two bowls of ramen float through the air to your table - likely the quirk of the woman before. You’re glad for the momentary distraction, giving you time to consider your answer. The food arrived suspiciously fast but with one sip from the oversized spoon, you know it’s amazing. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. 

“Like I’d take you somewhere shitty,” he laughs, “still dodging my question?”

“No,” you pause, pulling a piece of bok choy from the bowl while you consider, “not a villain would be nice.”

“Bar’s that low, huh?”

“...and being able to spend time together at least once a week would be good.”

“Only once a week?” he scoffs, “too easy.”

“What about you?”

He says nothing for a while, chasing a green onion around his spicy ramen with his chopsticks.

“This is good,” he mumbles suddenly uncharacteristically shy, “like a real, actual date.”

Looks like you aren’t the only one with lowered standards.

“Too easy,” you smile.

If he told you how serious of a relationship he actually wants with you, he might scare you off. This is a great start though.

Abruptly, he changes the topic to hero work. You compare stories, scars. 

He tells you how he got the small mark on his neck from a villain with a slashing quirk. How he took out a small area of buildings before Bakugo arrived to apprehend him.

You show him a similar scar on your wrist after the same villain escaped prison. 

The evening passes far too quickly.

As he approaches the counter to pay, you don’t miss the exchange between him and the older woman working. She looks overjoyed, saying something while glancing at you in the booth. He smiles awkwardly, his flushed face apparent even in the dim neon lighting.

“Alright, let’s get outta here,” he asserts while grabbing both of your hands to pull you to your feet.

“Can I take you out again?” he asks, as your feet have barely hit the pavement.

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Perfect.”

more Bakugo: masterlist

[z4rph1m]

Platonic Yan!batfam X dazai!reader X yandere dc

Tw: implication of sex (between reader & Chuuya), past mentions of self harm,

Forgotten child

Pro. Ch.1 Ch.2 (you are here) Ch.3

Nakahara Chuuya

Your former lover of the dark.

Why did the two of you broke up? He forgot, or maybe he just doesn’t want to remember.

He knew that the moment the two of you were in a relationship, it was unhealthy and toxic.

Maybe it’s the way you would ignore him the whole day but the moment you’re within his arms you’re a touch starve, hopelessly in love mess.

Or maybe the way he would be angry at you and try to guilt trip you into doing whatever he wants or the way you would purposely annoy him so that he would try and hurt you (he tried ask you to stop doing that)

But why exactly did the two of you stay together?

It’s simple, you two completed eachother perfectly.

Especially how fitting your abilities names are to describe the two of you.

You made him act like a human, he gave you a reason to live on.

“Are you the most beautiful human to me or to me, you’re the most beautiful human”

You stare at the empty space of your bed in longing, feeling as if there was something missing in your life.

The love marks surrounding your body, the lipstick mark on your bandages and the soft touches lingers around you.

Oh how you miss him.

You knew well that being with him was a terrible idea, especially with how aware you are to how much of a terrible person you are.

You know well you’re only using him to have the willingness to live yet the more you are with him, the more you crave for his touch.

That’s the reason why you broke up with him.

You hated how it felt, how it didn’t felt real to you. You wanted to save him the tears and pain, breaking off was maybe your only choice.

You remember well on how soft his kisses are on your scars, lips and all over your body.

Or how beautiful yours and his voice sounded together.

Maybe, just maybe under different circumstances the two of you could be together.

As much as you two stayed friends, the benefits can’t really be pass on.

“I can’t feel love, I will give you the love that you lack your whole life”

The more time Bruce walk through the hallway to your room, the more sense of guilt cover him.

Wilting flowers, spiders in cobwebs, empty vases and dust covering the paintings.

The side of the mansion that’s long been abandoned.

God how long did he let you live like this?

How long did he left you to live within the chilly and ghostly halls of the manor?

On the way to your room, the two passed by Dick and Tim, who seemingly curious on where they’re going.

“Hey Alfred, Bruce, where you’re going?” Dick in all his glory, having his usual smile while Tim with his eye bags and energy drink in his hand.

“We’re on our way to Master [N] room, which is just at the corner of this hallway”

There was a deafening silence, but at the same time it was accompanied by a presence of a lonely child.

The presence of a child that was useless to the family.

The silence kept on going until Tim voice spoke out.

“Are you sure you’re in the right way Alfred? The corner of the hallway looks as if it’s haunted”

“Yes Master Tim, they’ve been assign to that room after all”

Damian stare at the picture that’s laying at your table.

A picture of you and your mother.

Maybe it’s the only picture of you and her but it explains everything about your relationship with her.

You malnourished, eyes hold emptiness yet smiled so awkwardly at the camera, having just an oversized t-shirt and a shorts on, bandages free, happily in your mother arms.

Thats probably the only picture of you smiling.

Out of all the pictures that he sees in the album, the one where you’re under the care of Alfred, not his father.

You’re smiling with your mother, where you live a miserable and pitiful life.

What was it that was different or missing from this family that made you never smiled at least once?

In the past, he use to sneak into your room whenever it’s one of those days where you don’t come home.

Interested on why you look so….. depressing and On deathbed-like.

Yet as time goes by, he was interested in you by you’re nature.

Seeing your photos, art and diary (or at least what’s left of it).

He wanted to know more about you yet his pride and jealousy got in the way.

He wanted your attention yet he rejected the idea of even having a conversation with you.

Everything was fine until one day he sees the room clean and smell of fresheners.

That’s when he realized what he did.

He was too late- no, he can fix it.

He will get his older sibling back, he must.

God whoever this “Q” is will be the top of his list for taking what’s his.

He hold onto your childhood doll before tensing his body when the sound of creaking fills the room.

“Father, Alfred, Tim, Dick, what are you doing here?”

Inspired by @-acid-ixx Again & again series and @-marcyvamp1re-blog silly little bat

[paxtito]

forbidden

pairings: cairo x fem!reader

word count: 2120

warnings: smut 18+, swearing, cunilingus, strap-on

summary: you've gotten yourself tangled in a love affair with your father's top student

a/n: this is a filler so don’t mind the length- also credits to whoever requested that one cairo bot!

MASTERLIST | BOT

The dorm room is quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the campus settling down for the night. You fumble with your keys, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as you push open the door. It’s been a long day—one full of stolen glances, hushed conversations, and the constant weight of secrecy pressing on your shoulders.

You flick on the light, and your heart skips a beat.

There she is.

Cairo Sweet, perched on the edge of your bed, her legs crossed casually, her hands resting on the quilt your mother sent last semester. She’s still in her uniform from earlier, though the loosened tie and unbuttoned top collar give her an air of reckless confidence. That signature cheeky grin of hers—equal parts playful and infuriating—greets you as if she has every right to be here.

“Miss me?” she teases, tilting her head just so, the dim light catching the mischief in her eyes.

You close the door behind you, leaning back against it for a moment. “Cairo,” you say, your voice a mix of surprise and exasperation. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugs, feigning innocence as she leans back on her hands, her posture lazy but intentional. “Thought I’d pay my favorite person a visit. Is that a crime?”

“It is when you sneak into my dorm,” you retort, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

Cairo’s grin widens, and she pushes herself to her feet with a slow, deliberate grace. “Relax,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “No one saw me. Besides,” her voice drops slightly, low and teasing, “don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

You bite your lip, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing the way your heart is racing. “Cairo, we’ve talked about this,” you begin, your voice quieter now.

“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes playfully. “We shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. Your dad’s my teacher. Believe me, I’ve got the speech memorized.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

She steps closer still, and now you can smell the faint traces of her perfume, something warm and sweet that lingers in the air between you. “Here I am,” she agrees, her voice soft but still teasing. “Because I can’t stay away.”

Your resolve wavers under the weight of her gaze, and she knows it. Cairo always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in ways no one else ever has.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whisper, though the words feel weak even as you say them.

Cairo's eyes sparkle with mischief as she takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "So what if we do?" she murmurs, her voice a low purr. "Live a little, Y/N. Life's too short to play by all the rules."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Cairo always has this effect on you—making you question everything you thought you knew, making you want things you know you shouldn't.

"I... I don't know," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that simple."

Cairo's hand comes up to cup your cheek, her touch gentle but electric. "It is that simple," she breathes, her face inches from yours. "It's just you and me, Y/N. The rest of the world can fall away."

You lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. God, it would be so easy to give in, to let her sweep you away on this tide of forbidden desire. But...

You lean into Cairo's touch, letting out a shaky breath.

 Fuck it. 

Your resolve crumbles under the intensity of her gaze.

"Cairo..." you murmur, your voice heavy with want.

A triumphant smirk curves her lips before she closes the remaining distance, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging lightly as she deepens the kiss, her tongue teasing along your bottom lip.

You melt into her, your hands coming up to grip her waist, pulling her flush against you. The heat of her body seeps through the thin fabric of her uniform, igniting a fire deep in your core.

Cairo's hands roam over your body with a new urgency, her nails digging lightly into your skin through your shirt. She breaks the kiss, panting softly, her eyes dark with desire.

"Touch me," she breathes, her voice low and needy. "I want to feel your hands on me, Y/N."

You comply eagerly, your fingers slipping beneath her shirt to explore the smooth expanse of her back. Cairo arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Just like that," she pants, her hips grinding against yours. "Don't hold back, baby. I can take it."

You lose yourself in the sensation of her, in the taste of her, in the way she makes you feel alive in a way no one else ever has. Cairo is a force of nature, wild and unpredictable, and being with her feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, dizzying and exhilarating all at once.

As your hands roam lower, skimming over the curve of her ass, Cairo lets out a low groan. "Mmm, yes," she hisses, her hips bucking forward. "You know just how to touch me, don't you?"

The knowledge that you make her feel this good, that you can unhinge her so completely, sends a rush of power straight to your head. You nip at her bottom lip, relishing the way she whimpers in response.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cairo gasps, her fingers fisting in your hair. "I need you. Right now."

You don't hesitate, sweeping her up into your arms and carrying her the short distance to your bed. You lay her down gently, taking a moment to admire the sight of her spread out before you, her chest heaving, her skin flushed with desire.

Cairo watches you with hooded eyes as you slowly undress her, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Each piece of clothing you remove reveals more of her smooth, tanned skin, and you can't help but trail your fingers along her newly exposed flesh, mapping out every curve and dip.

"Y/N," she whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please, I want to feel you."

You obey, your hands and mouth worshipping every inch of her body as you work your way down. Cairo arches into your touch, her fingers tangled in your hair, urging you on.

By the time you reach her hips, she's practically shaking with anticipation. You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, drawing them down slowly, teasingly.

"Fuck, baby," Cairo groans, spreading her legs wider, inviting you in. "I need you so bad."

You don't make her wait any longer, diving in eagerly, your tongue hot and wet and perfect against her most sensitive parts. Cairo cries out, her back arching off the bed, her fingers tightening in your hair almost painfully.

"Yes, fuck yes," she pants, her hips bucking against your face. "Just like that, don't stop."

You double down your efforts, licking and sucking and teasing until Cairo is a writhing, incoherent mess beneath you, her thighs trembling and her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.

"I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come," she warns, her voice strangled. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You redouble your efforts, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until finally, with a scream of your name, she comes undone, her body shaking and convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

You work her through it, gentling your touch as the aftershocks fade, until finally, she collapses back onto the bed, spent and sated.

You crawl up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Was that good for you, baby?" you murmur, nipping at her bottom lip.

Cairo hums contentedly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. "Mmm, that was incredible," she purrs, her voice low and sultry. "But don't think we're done yet. I'm far from satisfied."

You reach for your nightstand with trembling hands, fumbling for your trusty strap-on. In your haste, you knock over a lamp, sending it clattering to the floor.

"Whoops!" you exclaim, stifling a laugh. "Graceful as always."

Cairo watches with hooded eyes as you fumble with the strap-on harness, your fingers clumsy in your haste. She bites her lip, trying to hold back a laugh at your determined expression.

"Eager, are we?" she teases, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Shut up," you mutter, finally getting the harness secured around your hips. You turn to face her, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I'm going to rock your world, Sweet."

Cairo rolls her eyes, even as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "Big words for someone who can't even put on a strap-on without help."

You narrow your eyes, stalking towards the bed. "Oh, I'll show you big, alright."

Cairo's laughter dissolves into a moan as you descend upon her, your hands and mouth mapping the contours of her body. You take your time, savoring every inch of her, until she's writhing beneath you, desperate for more.

"Please," she gasps, her hips lifting off the bed. "I need you inside me."

You smirk, reaching for the lube. "Patience, baby. Good things come to those who wait."

Cairo groans, burying her face in the pillow. "You're such a tease."

You just chuckle, coating the strap-on liberally. "And you love it."

Her only response is a muffled moan of agreement. You line yourself up, pushing forward slowly, sinking into her welcoming heat inch by delicious inch.

"Fuck," Cairo whimpers, her hands fisting in the sheets. "You feel so good."

You set a steady rhythm, losing yourself in the slide of your bodies, in the slick sounds of your lovemaking. Cairo meets you thrust for thrust, her nails raking down your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

The strap-on rubs deliciously against your own sensitive parts with each deep thrust, the pressure building steadily. You grit your teeth, fighting the urge to let go, determined to make this last for Cairo.

"That's it, baby," you growl, angling your hips just so. "Take it all."

Cairo keens, her head thrashing on the pillow, her body trembling beneath you. "Harder," she demands, her voice ragged. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."

You oblige, snapping your hips forward, driving into her with renewed vigor. The bed creaks in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall, but you're too lost in the heat of the moment to care.

Cairo's moans grow louder, more desperate, her body clenching around the strap-on like a vice. "I'm close," she gasps, her eyes squeezing shut. "So fucking close."

You can feel your own orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. "Me too," you pant, your rhythm starting to falter. "Come with me, Cairo. Now."

With a final, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, grinding against her sweet spot. Cairo screams, her body convulsing around you as she comes apart, milking the strap-on for all it's worth.

The sensation is too much, pushing you over the edge with her. You throw your head back, a guttural moan tearing from your throat as you find your own release, your hips jerking erratically.

For a long moment, you both remain locked in each other's embrace, panting harshly, your sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. Slowly, you come back to yourself, the post-orgasmic haze receding.

You pull out carefully, collapsing beside Cairo on the bed. She immediately curls into your side, her head resting on your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

"That was amazing," she murmurs, her voice soft and sated.

You reach down, fumbling with the straps of the harness with clumsy fingers. It takes a few tries, but finally, you manage to unbuckle the straps, the harness falling away from your hips.

Cairo lifts her head, watching you with a lazy smile. "Need some help there, sexy?" she teases, reaching out to trail a finger along your hip.

You shoot her a half-hearted glare, even as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. "I've got it," you mutter, tossing the harness aside carelessly.

Cairo just chuckles, settling back down on the pillows. "Alright, alright, I won't mock your struggle-bus hands."

You roll your eyes, flopping down beside her with a huff. "You're a brat."

"And you love it," she retorts, nuzzling into your neck.

You can't argue with that, your arms coming up to wrap around her waist, holding her close. For a moment, you just bask in the afterglow, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the soft whisper of her breath against your skin.

[nightmareweaverz]

What is Love? (Mr. Gap x GN!Reader) Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

CW: Mild gore/injury, a bit of violence but nothing extreme

Word count: 2536

Since people enjoyed it and I had some ideas, I decided to continue this! We meet someone new in this chapter. Keep in mind it's not gonna turn into a love triangle, tho. The new character serves a different purpose. Enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Another book falls shut with a loud thump next to the armchair that's held you for the past two days. A large stack rests beside it. You've been leafing through many of them lately, especially romance books. Not all of them fit your taste, some you would even call boring. Reading wasn't a hobby of yours when you were in the human world, but here, you've found this more enjoyable than walking around with no real purpose. Even the boring ones become less boring eventually. It’s nice to pretend you are a character in a story, with a different life, one that has purpose. Unlike your current reality.

Until you run out of books. Then you have to go out searching for more. This is one of those times. You've read everything from your last find. It was mostly magazines and newspapers, save for one or two novels, some of them half shredded. But their job is done now.

Crowbar in hand and hood drawn over your head, you detach yourself from the armchair and set out on your little mission. Your previous haul is left behind. There is no point in trying to keep any of the things you've finished reading. They'd only slow you down in this ever shifting maze.

The hallways are as creepy and hard to navigate as usual. A locked door here, imminent danger there, some horrific friendly residents and other equally horrific non friendly residents. The usual.

While you're peering inside a vent in an attempt to see if you can use it to get past a wall, Mr. Gap pays you a visit.

“Hello,” he greets you.

“Hello. Can take other room?” You point at the wall.

“Can take.”

“Danger there?”

“No danger. Lots of object.”

That's exactly what you were hoping to hear.

“You take me?”

“Take, take.”

He grabs your arm. Your vision goes black for a moment, as it always does when Mr. Gap moves you from one place to another. Everything goes quiet and you briefly feel a chill envelop you. Then you're in a new place, the room he promised to take you to.

“Thank you.”

Lately, he's been doing a mix of asking for body parts and doing things without wanting anything in return. Whether he’s trying to be nicer or he plans on asking for something later, is unknown to you. The occasionally friendly company is still appreciated.

You turn to the piles of random objects fallen from the human world. A far larger pile than usual. With a little bit of luck, it won’t all be full of worthless junk. You get to sorting through them before an earthquake can do it all in.

“What you search?” Mr. Gap's face peeks out from beneath a toppled over armchair.

“Lots of paper.”

Old dirty clothes, a couple abandoned toys, a lamp, a bike wheel, they all get thrown around in your search. You let out a triumphant “Yes!” when you stumble upon a copy of Frankenstein. It's not romance, but it'll keep you busy nonetheless. You shove it beneath your underarm before resuming the search.

“You like paper? Me like paper,” Mr. Gap comments as he reappears in another nook between two wooden planks.

“Okay,” you say dismissively. Normally, you'd humor him, but this world is unpredictable and you want fuel for your newly acquired pastime before it decide to bury everything beneath a pile of rubble.

You turn over a seat pillow and his face suddenly pops up in the space beneath. He holds out a magazine.

“Oh, thank-”

“Me want your finger.”

This slimy gremlin. You flash him your middle finger, only for a moment, before he can misunderstand and rip it off. The gesture confuses him, but the following grumbles must mean it didn't fly over his head entirely.

“Stop take my paper. Me not give,” you warn that you won't exchange any body parts for magazines he finds before you do.

But he knows this by now. It must simply delight him to see the furrow in your brow and hear you huff in irritation. You return to your task, refusing to grant him anymore satisfaction.

One pile of random objects later, he pops up again, this time with another book. This one is small, made of thick cardboard. The brightly colored cover suggests that it's for children.

“Me give, you teach me,” he says this time.

“Teach what?” He better not be about to ask you to sing itsy bitsy spider.

Mr. Gap opens up the book on a page where a cartoon little boy is offering a flower to a little girl. “What this?”

Where did he find that? Has he been trying to learn more about love? Is that why he's curious about such a gesture? The idea makes you find him kind of cute if it's true. Have you both just been reading romance related material, fumbling like idiots to figure out how it works?

As for explaining it, first, you point at the flower and say the word for it in English, since you're not sure there's a term for it here.

“This flower. Human give flower to person they like. Flower nice, pretty.”

Mr. Gap attempts to speak the new word. “Flower?” He stares at the illustration for another moment, then smiles creepily, the way he always does. “Thank you.”

In exchange, he gives you the magazine he'd tempted you with earlier. It’s a paranormal one. Knowing him, he’s already read through it. Read… Can Mr. Gap read? He doesn’t understand your language when you speak it, but he seems particularly fond of magazines. Is it all for the pictures? Maybe you’ll ask him next time.

You tuck the magazine next to the book and continue through the pile.

Once your left arm is satisfyingly full, you leave the room, now in search of a safe place to sit and read.

The sound of footsteps suddenly approaching nails you to the spot for a moment. Your hand instinctively grips the crowbar tighter, preparing for the worst. Whatever is coming, it better not force you to drop your books and flee. Because then you will be pissed. And you tend to lose control when you are pissed.

Fortunately, what walks in does not prove to be threatening. In fact, it's not even a resident. A young man with messy red hair cautiously steps in, then immediately freezes when he spots you. The sight of him nearly knocks all the air out of you. There is another human in the Other World. A living, breathing human, something you thought you'd never see again.

You are aware of how frightening you look. The bloodied raincoat, the silver hair, the bandages on your face and your blotchy, dark reddish skin. You often turn away quickly when faced with smooth metal, glass and, god forbid, mirrors. It's hard to believe the image you see is you. So his fear of you comes as no surprise. It serves as a grim reminder of what you've become.

“Hello.” When you speak, you use your native language.

“You speak English?!” the young man sounds startled and relieved at the same time.

“Yes… What are you doing here?”

Speaking complex sentences feels far better than you expected. It brings you a type of joy and nostalgia that startles you. Had you been missing it that much?

“I… I don't remember how I got here. Or what I was doing before. I'm just looking for the exit. Can you help me?”

This sounds painfully familiar. You remember when that used to be you. When you still had hope. And that memory tugs at something in your chest and urges you to make sure this man finds that exit. Before it's too late.

“I can help. What's your name?”

Such a human question to ask. The idea of using someone's proper name also makes you happy. When exactly have you become the type of person excited about complex sentences and names?

“I'm Robin. And you?”

You give him your name and he nods uneasily. Perhaps he hasn't been here long enough to be unphased by residents. That's good. It means there's still time.

“Mr. Gap?” you call out as you turn to the nearest crevice you can find. He appears as he always does. “Can take person exit?”

He glances at the human behind you, who is now observing warily. Then he shoots you that annoying grin of his. “Me want your heart.”

“Uh! Not give heart! Lead exit!”

“Not give? Goodbye.” And then he disappears.

You feel a strong urge to smack that grin right off his face. But he's gone and it seems like it's up to you to help this man find his way out.

“What did you talk about?” the man in question asks.

“I thought he'd help, but I overestimated his kindness… Come on, we need to find an elevator. It will take you out of here.”

“Alright… Um, thank you!”

His thanks is met with a dismissive little wave from you. Begrudgingly, the books have to be left here. The chances of finding them again are very slim, but you'll be less efficient with one arm entirely full.

The two of you set out to search for the exit.

The first rooms you pass through are an empty blessing. Robin isn't very talkative. Despite his wide shoulders and tall build, he appears quite timid and frightened. Every time you enter a new room, he first pokes his head in cautiously, then he dares to advance once he knows the coast is clear.

Is this how you used to be? Frightfully wandering the Other World, aided by Mr. Crawling, scared of your own shadow? It's a stark contrast to the apathetic stride you've developed since your return.

“How long have you been down here?” Robin asks after a prolonged silence.

“A while. It's hard to keep track of time here.”

“Is there… no way to turn you back?”

“I had a friend who was searching for a cure. But we got separated…”

You don't want to think about Mr. Silvair or the rest right now. You'd rather just focus on the task of finding the elevator.

“Is your friend like the guy in the hole?”

“Uh, no! That guy is an annoying little jerk who only does as he pleases.” Your face twists in annoyance just thinking about Mr. Gap. He could've effortlessly helped out, but he chose to be a pain instead.

“Oh, sorry.”

The hallway ends with two identical doors. Doors. They're so annoying in this world. Immediate death, sudden threat or a boring room could be waiting behind one and usually there's no way to tell them apart unless you open it.

“Stay back,” you instruct the human as you cautiously turn the doorknob.

Through the crack you've opened, you see a large, mostly empty room apart from a shelf with various toys on it. There are no signs of enemies for now.

“Okay, we can go.”

You step inside, you first and Robin cowering behind you. Everything seems fine as you head towards the doorless exit on the other side of the room. Until the door suddenly shuts and locks behind you.

“Who did that?!” Robin exclaims, startled.

You clutch your crowbar tighter, eyes darting around the room. One of the stuffed animals on the shelf suddenly lunges at you. However, you've spent long enough down here to parry such an attack easily. Swiftly, you swing your crowbar and knock it against the wall. Something shatters inside it. It stops moving.

But you have no time to relax. Robin lets out a startled scream. When you turn his way, several other toys are trying to climb him. One of them has sharp teeth and is biting into his arm.

“Get off him, you pests!” you yell out as you knock them off one by one, always followed by that shattering sound.

When he's freed, Robin quickly backs into a corner, cradling his bleeding arm. He's hurt. That's not good. He hasn't begun to transform at all. So his healing is that of a normal person.

“How deep is it? Let me see.”

“What were those things?! They- they bit me!” He’s panicking.

“Robin, you have to calm down and let me see your injury. It's gonna be okay. I'll get you out. But I need to see your arm first.” You try to be gentle. At least that's not something you've forgotten how to do yet.

He stares with wide eyes full of terror at first. But with each new reassurance, his breathing slowly relaxes and his trembling seizes. He offers you the arm. Gently, you roll up the torn sleeve of his shirt. Nine deep little cuts in a semicircle ooze blood on his forearm. It's not fatal, but leaving it untreated would be unwise.

You quickly glance around the room until you spot the dark void beneath the bottom of the shelf. You hurry to it at once.

“Mr. Gap! We need medicine! Person hurt. Blood,” you announce in the other language.

Mr. Gap does appear. He throws one look Robin's way, then grins at you. “Medicine? Can bring. Me want their finger.”

“Oh, for the love of- Give you my finger!” you try to bargain, not in the mood to explain that giving him a human's finger would defeat the purpose of asking for medicine.

Mr. Gap looks almost offended. Perhaps because you usually never say yes to his demands when he asks for your body parts. “Why?”

“Need medicine! Hurt! If outsider give finger, lots of hurt!” you explain, exasperated.

His face twists in displeasure. When he looks at Robin again, his eyes narrow, like he suddenly can't stand him. “Me not want your finger. Me want their finger.”

“Uh! You slimy little sewer rat!” you insult him, fully aware he hasn't a clue what you're saying, but probably able to tell from your tone it isn't nice. Then you turn away indignantly.

“Did your friend not want to help?” Robin asks timidly when you return to him.

“He thinks everything needs to be a transaction. It's fine, we'll manage without him.”

You lift up a part of your raincoat and rip off a piece of the white garment beneath it. Robin holds out his arm once again and allows you to bandage it.

“Why are you going to such lengths to help me?” he murmurs.

Why? You ask yourself that in turn. Perhaps because you didn't make it out. Perhaps you don't want another person to step outside and feel like a shark in the middle of a city, scary yet powerless and out of place.

“I just want somebody else to make it home after I couldn't.”

“I'm sorry…”

“It's fine. I don't need you to pity me. Just try to stay alive. Come on, let's go.”

You tilt your head towards the doorless opening. Begrudgingly, Robin pushes himself away from the corner and follows you out.

You both fail to notice the small roll of bandages that rolls out from beneath the shelf just as you pass it.

[livelaughloveluffy]

yearning - roronoa zoro

a/n: maybe it's because of my green hair, but zoro's been on the brain badddddd recently and i can't stop thinking about him and wanting him, so because i can't hold this man and tell him how much i love him, here's this fic instead 😭😭😭

nothing but fluff here 💗

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one sleepless night on the thousand sunny, you could not longer stand the tossing and turning in bed, and decided to step outside to get some fresh sea air, enjoy the night sky, and the sounds of the crashing waves.

however, the second you stepped outside of the girl's dorm, your eyes were drawn to the brooding green-haired swordsman with a bottle of sake in his hand, left alone on night watch.

zoro was a man of few words; one of extreme loyalty, strong morals, and utter devotion to those important to him. it was easy to be a bit intimidated by him, from his strength to his appearance, and he wasn't exactly the most approachable straw hat. but you couldn't help but feel drawn into him.

•♡•

while exploring an island, luffy had accidentally run into some marines on patrol, leading to an all out battle while you and the crew ran for your lives, yet again.

and this time particularly sucked. as you were cornered, outnumbered, and weak from battle injuries. and as a group of marines were getting ready to close in on you, a sudden flash of bright green, the sound of spilled blood, and men collapsing around you so fast you could barely process what was happening.

•♡•

your heart skipped a beat when you thought about how zoro put himself into harm's way without hesitation, disregarding his own injuries, to save you. and knowing that it wasn't just you he would do it for, how he would put his life on the line for any of the crew members, how he wouldn't care about any hurt or injury he had to endure as long as no one else felt that pain, because he could bear it instead.

the swordsman refused thanks for his help in the battle, and any attempt of it was instantly shut down with his gruff voice murmuring "it's nothing.."

so when he frowned at his empty bottle of sake, sighing at his sudden lack of alcohol for night watch, you found yourself sneaking into the kitchen, grabbing another bottle, and gently walking over to him. the soft whisper of a small request "can i join you for a glass?" slipped out of your mouth.

and as the one-eyed swordsman turned his head, looking at the sake in your hand, then giving you his iconic smirk before replying "sure, if you can keep up with me." your heart warmed, your body relaxed, and for a moment, everything else in the world was absolutely perfect.

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tags ♡: @3v37773 @dindjarins1ut @thepotatocatto @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99; want to join the taglist? click here!

a/n: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CRYING SCREAMING AND THROWING UP THAT I CAN'T HAVE THIS IRL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i had so much fun writing this so i hope yall love it as much as i do

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[ratatoilett]

"what the hell is wrong with you-"

maybe in another universe you won't be having this conversation with him. maybe in another universe satoru would just tease you and make smartass comments about how you're so pouty after he ate that one last slice of cake you saved up just to savor the taste. maybe this will all just be an ordinary day but this wasn't that universe.

no this was now.

he stopped his tracks, dragging his hands through his snow-white hair, his face unreadable. "you knew i had to make this choice right? all those plans, those chances, those what ifs-"

your nostrils flared, "and you didn't stop for a second to think about how i would feel about any of this?"

the silence that followed was deafening. he just stood there, staring, the weight of his words pressing down on this godforsaken room like an iron shroud. finally, he broke it, his voice a whisper, trembling at the edges, "this is the only—this is the only way i could see you having a good life."

bewildered was even the word. you barked out a laugh—sharp, bitter, more like a scoff—"a good life? and you can't be in it? so you've decided to make—this twisted, fucked up version of reality—where i could have a 'good life' without you in it?".

your pacing grew erratic as you fought the tears that stung your eyes, biting them back with all your strength. "tell me, did you planned this all along satoru? from the very beginning—"

he closed his eyes, a pained grimace crossing his face. "yes."

and that one word shattered something in you.

"so you think by giving up your body —letting them use you like some goddamn ragdoll to beat sukuna— is a bright idea? and then what? you just—what—throw yourself away like trash?"

you stopped pacing, your breaths coming out in uneven bursts. the plan you overheard, not from his lips, no. the moment you'd learned about it, something inside you had snapped, every nerve in your body screaming in protest.

satoru swallowed hard, stepping toward you cautiously, as though afraid you might vanish if he got too close. his hands cupped your face, warm but trembling, like he was holding on to something slipping through his fingers. "do you remember?" his voice cracked, low and rough. "do you remember what i told you? before all of this— the curse, the missions, all this shit—how i always said—"

you choked on your own tears, already knowing the answer. "that you'd come home soon."

he nodded, his forehead brushing against yours as his own tears began to spill. "and i always meant it."

your hands gripped his wrists tightly, desperate, like holding on to him could somehow change this, change everything. "don't. don't say it. i don't want to hear it."

he pressed a kiss to your hair, pulling you into his arms, holding you so close it felt like he was trying to merge your souls. his face buried in your neck, and you could feel his tears hot against your skin. he was trembling—this unshakable man, this immovable force, was breaking apart in your arms.

and it was funny, in the most tragic way imaginable, how the two of you were crumbling together. one fighting so desperately to keep the other from slipping away, and the other fighting to let go.

his voice came again, breaking the silence like a cracked whisper. "i need you to promise me something. promise me you'll be ok."

you shook your head violently, the words tumbling out of you like a broken glass. "no. no, i can't—don't ask me that satoru, don't—"

his hands framed your face again, his eyes searching yours with desperation that cut deeper that any curse ever could. "promise me," he said, his voice stronger now, even as his own tears refused to stop. "promise me you'll be strong, promise me you'll never forget me. that you'll think of me, even just from time to time. promise me you'll remember how much i love you, how grateful i am of you. and promise me—"

his voice cracked, and the rest came out in a rush. "promise me you'll remember that i didn't want to go."

your grip on him weakened, and something in his eyes changed. he knew. he knew.

he planted one last kiss on your forehead, lingering as though trying to pour everything he couldn't say into that single moment. then he stepped back, his hands falling away like leaves in the wind.

and just like that, he let go.

[cobaltperun]

Darkest Part (5) - Bad Medicine

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 6.5k

-Your love is like bad medicine, bad medicine is what I need-

The afterlife was so damn random. Your first experience with afterlife was an office with a bunch of tall men with shrunken heads. Some of them had only one eye! And not in the eyepatch kind of way, but in the one big eye like a cyclops way! And one of them was dressed exactly like Beetlejuice, and that was the most normal thing in this entire office! “What the fuck,” you whispered as Beetlejuice turned to the one dressed just like him.

“Bob, you and the boys stand guard! Nobody gets through,” he then turned to Lydia “Let's go, honey,” well you were already here so there was no going back. Why were you doing this again? Oh, yeah, because Astrid went and got herself into trouble. You went after him and Lydia only to be met with even more randomness and the utter bizarre feeling permeating this entire world. You realized everything was tilted, the floors, the walls, absolutely everything in this place was at an angle and it wasn't even consistent! If it wasn't for this kind of circumstance, you would actually marvel at the architecture of all of this.

“We’re like Bonnie and Clyde, you and me, without bullet holes,” Beetlejuice pointed out almost giddily as he led you and Lydia down the halls.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Lydia wasn't having any of it.

“You go right down the hallway, three rights through the ninth door right,” he pumped his fist. “To the Soul Train,” Beetlejuice instructed you and it made it sound like he wasn't going with you.

“Where are you going? Lydia asked immediately, for all her dislike of the whatever Beetlejuice was he did seem powerful, and if you were going to save Astrid from the clutches of death you might as well have someone powerful on your side. Someone who actually knew where you were supposed to head after you rescue her.

“I’m gonna go to the little boy’s room first,” why did a guy that was probably a powerful demon or spirit of sort and probably very, very old, just use that phrase? Why was he so immature? Just why?

“Fuck it, let's just go,” you ran through the halls following the directions Beetlejuice gave you and soon enough you could see the crowd forming on your path. “That’s a good sign,” you told Lydia and she nodded. The crowd did slow you down a bit, but not by a lot, they seemed more interested in dancing and having fun rather than actually getting to their destination. Well, if after life was for an eternity then you guessed they didn't really have anywhere to rush, they would have all the time in the world.

Unless there were something you didn't know about and ghosts could die and now your head hurt because you were thinking about too many things that you didn't need to think about right now! You entered the train station that looked kind of like a disco themed train station and the music playing kind of gave it that feel too. You looked over the crowd from the stairs looking for Astrid but all you could see was a lot of dead people.

“Astrid!” Lydia yelled from the stairs and then you caught sight of the two people dragging someone in a dress that looked a lot like what Astrid was wearing for Halloween.

“There,” was no way you would mistake anyone for her. “There she is!” you pointed your finger towards her and jumped over the fence running through the crowd as quickly as you could, pushing through the ghosts just as Astrid was pushed on to the train. “Damn it!” you cursed trying to keep your sight on the doors they pushed Astrid through. “Astrid!” you yelled as loud as you could, for the first time ever saying her name, though that didn't even cross your mind, and you pushed through the door where she stood, frozen in fear and clearly panicking on the inside. “Come on, let's get out of here,” you grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the train just as Lydia caught up to you.

“Astrid!” Lydia quickly pulled her into a hug and Astrid immediately wrapped her arms around her mother. There was no hesitation, or resentment Astrid carried up until now, there was just pure happiness at seeing her mother.

You smiled, happy that you made it in time, though you would still have to find the bastard that tricked Astrid into trading her soul. You should have known things were going too easy. Not only did the guys that pushed Astrid into the train came back due to all the commotion you made, but there were also some guys dressed like police officers pointing toward you and Lydia. “We need to run!” you yelled and all three of you looked around for an exit that wasn't blocked.

“Over there,” Lydia pointed at the door to your left.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” you muttered to Astrid as the three of you began running.

“Save it for later, Barnacle,” she hissed at you, but you could tell she knew this was still a really bad situation. For all you knew you would be running right into another trap and you had no idea how to reunite with Beetlejuice so he could help you deal with the rest of Astrid’s problem.

Since you reached it first you forcefully pushed the doors open, only to stumble forward and fall face first into the sand from way too high. How were you not hurt? Sure, the sand cushioned your fall, but still…

A shriek from above made your eyes widen and the next thing you felt was a body falling right on top of you and not only knocking all the air out of your lungs but also managed to fill your mouth with sand.

“Sorry,” of course it was Astrid that fell on top of you.

You just spat out the sand that got into your mouth and sighed, at this point you should have been concerned about your safety and health, but from the looks of it, working for Delia made you free from such petty burdens. Still, unlike falling onto the sand, this one hurt, like actually hurt, and you just knew you would be feeling it for a long time. “Forget the chihuahua you are much heavier than that. You're an entire pack of chihuahuas!” you groaned, and accidentally missed the smile on her face as she patted you on the shoulder.

“At least you've softened the fall for me, Y/N,” did she just say your name? You must have hit your head. That was the only explanation.

You laughed mockingly. “That's exactly what I intended. My life's purpose is now fulfilled, and I can die in peace,” sarcasm dripped from your voice as you stood up with a long, audible, groan. You were 95% certain you would end up with back pain for the rest of your life from Astrid falling on top of you.

Astrid groaned and smacked her forehead. “You didn't just say that. Right here and right now,” she sighed, and well, you supposed this was a really bad timing.

No regrets though! In fact, you were rather satisfied grinning with pride.

“And you regret nothing, of course you don’t,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, but you swore you could see a smile on her face. Astrid finally looked around and you felt absolutely lost, after all, all you were seeing was all the sand and more sand and endless sand around you. “Hey, where are we?” Astrid asked what probably all three of you were thinking.

“I don't know,” Lydia admitted and you just shrugged. Geography really wasn't your strongest suit but it didn't look like any desert you were aware of.

“Is that Saturn?” you followed Astrid’s line of sight and the direction she was pointing at, and sure enough… there was a fucking planet right there! “So, we must be on one of its moons? I swear the afterlife is so random!”

“You can say that again,” you said, you definitely weren't guessing that from just the planet but now that you looked at it, it really did seem obvious. Still, damn this girl was smart.

All of a sudden the sand close to you began shaking and looking like it was rippling, like something underneath it was moving.

“Maybe we should just, you know, run!” there was no way that was a good sign and you weren’t about to wait for Astrid and Lydia to get the message, you just pushed them away from the sand and began running away from whatever was moving under the sand. From the looks of it, it was big and you did not want to risk becoming a dinner for some afterlife monster.

And you made a good decision as something emerged from the sand and you looked back. “Holy shit!” you cried out. It was some kind a huge worm and it was easily bigger than any animal aside from a whale that you ever saw.

“Sandworm!” Lydia identifying the creature wasn’t helping, but now you would at least know you got eaten by a sandworm if you failed to escape.

“Got any idea how to escape?!” you glanced at Lydia. She was the expert, surely she had-

“None! Just keep running!” yeah, great, that would work, especially when the sandworm caught up to them much faster than they were running. And then by some miracle a door opened above you.

“Take my hand!” someone yelled, and at this point you didn’t care if it was a demon, or police, or anything, as long as it wasn’t this sandworm. You and Lydia let Astrid up first, and then Lydia pushed you to go ahead next. You were not about to argue with her, so you let the man pull you up and then helped him bring Lydia up as well and he closed the door right as the sandworm collided with it.

You dropped down on the floor and took several deep breaths. There would be a lot to unpack here if you survived. And the worst thing about it? If you told any of this to roughly 99% or even every single psychiatrist you’d be sent to an asylum.

“Dad,” Astrid whispered and you finally glanced at the man that saved you. Actually, now that you looked at him, you could see some resemblance, especially if one ignored the color of his skin and the fishes attached to his body eating his flesh. Well, at least someone was making some good memories in this damn world. The best you had this far was Astrid falling on top of you, and that would probably leave long-lasting consequences on your back. Astrid and Lydia hugged the man and you just sat back, letting the family reunion unfold undisturbed by your presence.

~X~

Astrid's dad let you all into an office of sorts and poured coffee into the mugs as Lydia and Astrid sat at the table you stood back not really sure how to act and not wanting to intrude on the family reunion. Besides, there was another issue, as much as you could see that Astrid needed some closure and a moment with her dad you also knew your time was ticking. Not to mention there was some kind of police after you and Lydia for entering this world while still being alive, and there was also the bastard that stole Astrid's life to be dealt with. So, as much as you understood Astrid needed to have this moment with her father you also knew you just had to go.

In fact, you had to leave five minutes ago.

“Marie Curie, after the radiation poisoning. Right?” her dad asked, and you finally took a better look at her. You didn’t dare to ask her what her costume was when she was leaving and now that you looked at her properly and her dad pointed it out, well, it was obvious…

Like hell it was!

Who would look at that dress and immediately go: ‘Oh, yeah, Marie Curie!’ and sure, it was pretty much as close to her dress and hairstyle from one of her most well-known photos, but still! How many people would remember the exact dress right away?

“Learnt from the best,” but Astrid did look proud of herself, so you figured you should let the chihuahua be delusional.  

“We made a great kid,” Astrid’s dad turned to Lydia and no matter what you did less than an hour ago you were very tempted to disagree.

“I know you can't see me, but I check in on your both all the time,” okay, that was actually really sweet. “And I don't want to be the reason that drove you two apart, you need each other, you make each other better. Always have,” you blinked a few times, taking in the image of the happy family hug.

This was too wholesome for your own good. This was not the side of Astrid you needed to see!

Damn it!

When the family separated Astrid glanced at you and froze for a moment before smirking. “Don’t go soft on me now, Barnacle,” she just had to call you out, didn’t she?!

Blood rushed to your face, and you were sure steam burst out of your ears. Considering how crazy and absurd this whole place was, maybe it did happen. “I am not! And quit wasting time, we need to get your soul back, you damn chihuahua!” you swiftly left the room. You would get Astrid’s soul back, leave this afterlife world, and never see the damn chihuahua again!

Astrid walked out after you, with her parents right behind her. “Come on, before our cantankerous Barnacle gets lost,” she said it with a strange sense of cheerfulness in her tone, but that was the least of your worries.

“Can-Cantan- I’m sorry, what?!” you stammered, not even remotely capable of figuring out the meaning of that word.

“Cranky, grumpy,” her dad provided, and you finally figured out where she got it from.

“Fucking chihuahua,” you felt your eye twitching as she just laughed at you.

“Come on,” while still laughing she actually went and grabbed your forearm, pulling you along. “Which way, dad?” she asked, turning to her dad as you focused on her hand wrapped around your forearm.

“Right down the hall, we need to stop him before the transfer becomes permanent,” her dad took lead, and you could feel Astrid’s grip on your arm getting tighter and it finally made sense to you. She needed a sense of normality, so she provoked you, so she could, at least for a moment, forget her life was still on the line.

~X~

You followed Astrid’s dad through the halls, having no idea which way you were going but according to him you would need to intercept the bastard that tricked Astrid before he got his passport stamped and made the transfer permanent. Why was it so easy for him to accomplish his goal while you, frankly, had no idea how to get the process reversed.

You didn't know what you could do to stop him, sure you could catch him, but what then? “Hey, how do we make him give Astrid’s soul back?” because you doubted a monster like him would just hand it over.

Astrid’s dad stopped for a moment. “I'm not sure, we’ll figure it out after we catch him,” he turned to Astrid. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart, I promise you.”

“Dad,” Astrid whispered now uncertain what the outcome of this would be.

“I promise,” he repeated even though all four of you knew that deep down maybe this was an empty promise.

And it damn near was just an empty promise.

You reached the entrance of the officers only to see the guy smirking smugly. He was too far away, you couldn’t reach him. “Don't stamp that passport!” Astrid’s dad yelled but it was too late whoever was behind the counter stamped the passport.

“You're too late, man,” he said and your eyes widened as you, instinctively rather than through a conscious effort, caught Astrid as she slumped back. Your heart beat wildly inside of your chest, how could you have let this happen? You looked at Astrid and you couldn't even apologize. You all failed her, the transfer was complete and she would die right here. You just didn't make it in time.

But then as if by some miracle the floor opened beneath the man and he just fell through into the flames. Then you saw what happened, the one who put the stamp on the transfer was Beetlejuice. A sense of relief flooded you, but you could not ignore how useless you felt. If he wasn't there you would have failed, this would have all been for nothing.

There wasn’t time to celebrate though. “This way!” Astrid's dad led you once more, after all, you still had the police after you and Lydia to worry about. He led you until you reached a small room with a crooked ladder leading through an opening in the ceiling.

“OK, this is as far as I go,” Astrid’s dad said and immediately Astrid hugged him.

“I love you,” she whispered wanting him to know that because there was no telling when she would get the chance to say it again.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Have an amazing life,” he held her as tightly as he possibly could before letting her go and looking at both her and Lydia. “Take care of each other, I'll see you later,” he told them both.  

The three of you climbed outside and it turned out you were back at the cemetery, somehow. “I'm not even going to question anything,” you sighed, at this point learning to accept that the things around this family were just going to be weird and you had no control over it.

It definitely felt good to breathe in some fresh air. Even if your back hurt. ‘Yup, this is going to keep hurting,’ you thought and frowned as you massaged your lower back.

Astrid turned to Lydia. “Thank you for saving my life! I'm so sorry I never believed that you saw ghosts and, I’m just sorry for all of it,” Astrid was crying for the first time since you met her, she apologized with all of her heart to Lydia, and you looked away not wanting to interrupt the moment.

It just crossed your mind that you had no place in any of this. You were, at best, Delia's assistant who just happened to be there. You had no connection to either Lydia or Astrid other than the fact that you and Astrid did not exactly like each other, so being here actually felt uncomfortable.

Now that the adrenaline was gone and Astrid was saved you caught yourself wondering why you even went after Astrid. Lydia could have done it herself and you went and risked your life for someone you claimed to hate, and it was the most ridiculous decision you could have made.

“Oh my God, my wedding!” Lydia’s shout broke you out of your thoughts and that was the last thing you expected to hear from her right now, but here you were.

“Wait, mom, after everything that's happened tonight you know you don't have to do this, right?” Astrid went after her mother and then she realized you weren't following her. She turned to you grabbed you by the hand, pulling you along.

“Wait, Chihuahua!” you protested, but you really should have known you weren’t going to accomplish anything.

“Come on, please. After all of this I can’t deal with this wedding alone,” she admitted and you sighed, deciding to leave the feelings related to whether you should or shouldn't have gone after Astrid for later. At the end of the day, you did the right thing. You wanted to save her life consequences be damned, you had no intention of feeling guilt over that. And the feeling of her hand wrapped around your made that decision much easier.

“I might as well deal with this stupid wedding as well,” you shrugged, ignoring how your heart speed up when she smiled at your words.

Satisfied that you were coming with her and still holding your hand, Astrid turned to her mother once more. “Are you sure about this?”

Lydia was not sure, you could tell that. but she probably figured that if she didn’t do it now she would just get cold feet later and give up on the wedding altogether. Which would be a smart thing to do but you doubted she would reach that decision that easily. “Rory loves me and that's gotta be enough,” there was definitely something about her Rory loved, and you really believed it wasn’t what Lydia thought it was.

The three of you went into the church and the relief on Rory's face looked genuine, which was actually surprising, but then you heard the crowd already filming the event sitting on the pews and it all made sense. “Oh my God, I thought you got cold feet.”

“No, blame me. She just saves me for my date from hell,” Astrid sad and you probably couldn't describe what happened to her in a better way. A date from hell has never been so literal.

“Who are all these people?” Lydia was understandably confused as she looked at the people Rory invited, and you could tell she didn’t recognize any of them.

“Just a couple of influencers. Nobody under 5 million followers and I think we have a Netflix executive in here,” and Rory found nothing wrong with that. He had his ideas and he was not going to compromise them for the sake of Lydia’s comfort, and you know for a fact that she said she didn't want too many guests, that she wanted this to be private.

“Damn you're an asshole,” you shook your head, only now realizing Delia wasn’t here, and sure, she could be self-absorbed at times, and she disliked Rory, but she wouldn’t miss this. “Where is Delia?” you asked.

“Right here! She’s helping me calm down before the wedding,” and Beetlejuice was right here, probably to collect on his part of the deal with Delia somehow right with him.

How did that even-? You weren’t even going to bother anymore. You thought the madness would be over by now, but no, the show was still going on.

You patted Astrid on the shoulder and just slumped against the wall until you sat down. “Look, I’m just gonna sit here and rest for a bit, I need a moment,” was there a way to get therapy and avoid being sent to an asylum for the rest of your life?

Astrid had a strangely compassionate look on face. “Yeah, sure. Thanks for being here, and I mean it,” somehow you trusted her, even with all the banter and fights between the two of you. She crouched down so she was at your eye-level. “I mean it, Y/N,” you definitely trusted her and you smiled nudging her lightly toward her mother.

What followed was the back and forth between Beetlejuice and Rory that you frankly didn't care about much but what really got your attention was when Beetlejuice just randomly manifested a syringe with something inside of it and injected Rory with it. And apparently what was within it was some kind of a truth serum.

Rory looked like he was trying to stay silent, but then he couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I always thought your whole act was bullshit! I never believed in ghosts, spirits or any of it,” well now you were kind of happy you didn't go back to the house because seeing this emotional manipulator get his just deserts was worth it.

“What? All this time? Why did you want to get married?” Lydia had the most reasonable reaction to Rory's confession, but you honestly had to wonder just how he managed to trick her so well she.

“Money! I knew I could make more as your husband than I could as your manager! Oh, and I never had a dead fiancé! I just went to that survivors retreat so that I can weak women and exploit them and I hit the codependent lottery when I met you!” he was truly, absolutely a scumbag. An ever bigger one than you imagined.

And then Beetlejuice continued to defy all the laws of logic and the nature and created a boxing glove on Lydia's right hand, which somehow gave Lydia enough strength to punch Rory across the church.

“Okay, that was satisfying to see, but what the hell is going on here? Just how?” you asked blankly, just for a moment wondering why you even bothered trying to reasonably explain things happening tonight.

“Beats me, we got to see Rory flying,” Astrid pointed out and well you couldn’t see the flaw in that logic. “Say, what would you confess if someone injecting that into you?” oh no…

“I can arrange that,” Beetlejuice said before you could react and one second later you felt a needle pierce your neck and off you went just like Rory did.

You weren’t even trying to fight it. “I don't hate you, at all. Actually, I kinda like you. I mean, you do annoy me, but I like you. Uh, thanks for you know, fixing my drawing and I'm really impressed by your vocabulary, and that really infuriates me because I have to Google a lot of words because of you,” you took a deep breath and just sighed, not even capable of looking at Astrid right now because of how embarrassed you were. “And I think you are really beautiful, and damn that thing really works… Oh my God, this is a nightmare,” you glanced at Astrid and saw she was completely red in the face. “Well, at least seeing you blush makes it worth it,” you had to shut your mouth and make a genuine effort to keep more of how you felt from spilling out.

“Barnacle,” at this point that was turning into a pet name more than an insult, so you fired right back.

“Chihuahua,” the two of you had the strangest nicknames for one another that was clear by now. “I actually don’t mind that you call me that,” you admitted, still under the effect of the serum and smacked your forehead. “Fuck!” you cursed.

Astrid looked away, still blushing. “Noted,” she muttered, but you could see the smile on her face.

Finally, you looked away from Astrid and immediately saw horror that would haunt you for the rest of your life. At this point you could make a rather long list of those things. But this one was at the very top, as the people who Rory invited were being sucked into their phones. You were tempted to just leave but you weren’t about to leave Astrid here. Even if you were mostly sure she wouldn’t be hurt.

And then you must have been transported into a fever dream because Lydia suddenly changed into a red wedding dress, Beetlejuice’s clothes changed as well, music started playing and there was this huge melting, kind of disgusting looking, cake and you were all forced to dance and then the police zombies showed up.

And then, just as randomly as you were forced to start dancing you just stopped. “Is it finally over?” you asked no one in particular, though Astrid and Delia were the closest to you.

“Knowing this guy? This is just the beginning,” yeah Delia really had a way to console you and make you feel better.

The door slammed open suddenly all of you could see a woman, covered in stitches, standing there menacingly, and you had no idea who she was but something about her made her seem dangerous.

“Beetlejuice!” oh, yeah, he did start mentioning an ex before you interrupted him. That felt like a lifetime ago at this point.

“What the fuck?” oh, you were absolutely fucked if Beetlejuice of all people… or well, ghosts or demons or whatever he was, said that.

So, you did the most reasonable thing you could and stood in front of Astrid just in case this woman decided to turn her attention toward her. “What are you doing?” she hissed at you, but she did grab onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know, we are surrounded by supernatural beings and I clearly have a death wish, because I’d rather get between you and that, than let you get hurt,” oh, you were still under the effect of the truth serum.

“I'm back,” the woman declared.

“We can se-“ you were about to speak, but Astrid quickly put her hand over your mouth.

“Maybe that truth serum wasn’t worth it,” she groaned, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.

“You think?” your voice came out muffled by her hand, but you still said what came to your mind. “Look, if that guy looks afraid, I think we need to be afraid too,” you whispered, and Astrid nodded and as subtly as she could pointed toward the book near the three of you.

“Cover me,” Astrid said and you weren't sure how you were going to do it, but seeing as Beetlejuice was trying to talk his way out of whatever trouble he was in you figured he had you all covered.

Astrid came back to your and Delia’s side with the book in hands and flipped through the pages until she found the part about the Sandworms. “Can you get me something I can draw with?” she asked, and you were never so happy you always had a pen at your disposal.

“Here,” you handed it to her. Astrid nodded, drawing the square on the floor before knocking and then she pushed you and Delia away from the square, and just in time as the sandworm broke through the floor.

“Astrid, you are- I don't even have the words,” you could only watch as Beetlejuice directed the worm toward Rory and the woman and made it eat them. Which was somehow not even the most bizarre thing that happened tonight.

“OK, can we just go now?” you asked and from the looks of it everyone seemed to agree with you as you, and Astrid, Lydia and Delia all began heading for the exit.

“Hey, we had a deal!” Beetlejuice reminded Lydia, with the contract she signed held in his hand.

Much to your surprise, Astrid stepped forward. “She doesn’t have to marry you. You violated code 699! Yes, you illegally brought my mom into the afterlife,” she lifted the damn book up. “According to this book that contract is null and void,” Astrid explained. Did you ever admit that you actually really liked this girl because you did and she just rescued her mom back.

“Truth serum still works,” Delia snickered next to you.

“Fuck!” you cursed, knowing full well you said that and that, given you were merely half a dozen feet away from Astrid, she heard you.

Lydia stepped closed to Beetlejuice. “Look I'm sorry things didn't work out between us, but the six hundred year age gap was a little bit too much for me. Beetle-“ he began hissing but she just raised her finger. “Beetlejuice,” he began inflating as Lydia for his name, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice” Beetlejuice just popped like a balloon. That was it, he was gone. This was probably over now.

Hopefully.

There was still a chance you would jinx yourself right here and now and another bullshit would happen.

Police officers from the world of the dead unfroze and their detective began yapping about forensics and keeping the media away and he even posed so you could all take a selfie, and you were doing your very best to ignore him. That is until he reached over and just grabbed Delia. “Sister you're coming with me,” he said.

“Hey wait, she belongs here,” you went to stop him, consequences be damned, but before you could reach her Delia just shook her head and you halted, confused by her reaction. She was just fine when you last saw her, but then you saw them, the bite marks.

“What? Delia what did you do?” Lydia asked, exasperated.

“I fell for a scam and I'm counting on you to claim a refund,” the snakes, the damn snakes.

“The snakes were actually poisonous, weren't they?” Astrid voiced what you just realized.

“Yeah. So, I died of embarrassment,” yeah, sure you could go with Delia's explanation.

“Whatever makes you rest in peace,” you grinned at her for a bit, but the smile fell as quickly as it appeared. She was dead, and you came to really care about her.

“Your work is gonna go up in value,” and Astrid was joking as well or rather finding the brighter side and the entire situation.

“Oh well then,” and at least it made Delia happy.

“Oh, Delia, I’ll miss you,” Lydia reached over and touched her stepmother.

“No you won't! I'll find Charles and we'll haunt you all until you beg us to move on,” Delia promised and you were sure she would keep her words, and then she was taken away leaving only you Astrid and Lydia in the church.

“Well, this was… an experience,” you had no idea how things would continue from this point on. Was Rory dead? Were all the people he invited just gone? This was too much of a headache, a fever dream you were hoping to wake up from.

Wait…

Delia was dead!

“Fuck! I lost my job!” you cursed only for Astrid to pat you on the back.

~X~

The next morning you woke up still under the effect of what happened the previous night and all the things you learned saw and experienced. In your mind that was supposed to be an unknown and now you knew what happened after death. Now you knew how things were once someone dies and from the looks of it now you could see ghosts just like Lydia and Astrid. And then there was Astrid… and all the things you said under the effects of that damn truth serum.

Slowly, with a frown on your face and some pain in your back, you got out of your bed and got ready for the day. You were actually surprised you even slept last night, but maybe you were just that exhausted.

You went down the stairs to find Astrid sitting there. “Hey,” she actually greeted you first without snide remark or an insult hurled toward you she even had a small smile on her face. So, the last night really did happen. If the pain in your back wasn’t enough of a proof this definitely was.

“Hey,” neither of you seemed eager to actually have a conversation after everything that happened. You understood, she damn near died so if you were in her shoes you probably would have tried staying in bed for as long as you possibly could. You'd probably start avoiding every single person fearing they might try to trade their your life for their own, so she was handling this a lot better than you would.

“You aren't the ghost, are you?” she tried to joke but at this point you understood why she questioned absolutely everything.

“Unless everyone I've been interacting with is also a ghost, no I am alive. Are you?” you fired back the same question, though it was absolutely a joke and she, luckily, chuckled a bit

“Yeah, I don't think we need another proof of that, after I nearly lost my life,” she had a point there and you both just grinned at each other. Where were you supposed to take this? All of this?

“Did you sleep at all?” you asked after a bit of actually comfortable silence.

She just shook her head. “I couldn't. I can't stop thinking about everything. There are so many things on my mind I just couldn't fall asleep,” you noticed the dark circles underneath her eyes which you originally guessed where the remnants of her costume but now that you were a bit closer to her you realized it was just from not sleeping last night. “You?”

“I did, somehow. I think I was just exhausted,” your whole world changed and you couldn’t tell if it was for the better or for the worse. But even with all those strange experiences you would absolutely need therapy for it still wasn't as significant or big as the change Astrid just went through. After all while you believed in ghosts and didn't really think about afterlife Astrid actually denied them, believed it was, well you didn't know what she believed in exactly, but you guessed she believed there was just nothing after death.

“I get that,” she agreed and finally looked you in the eyes and you just saw the question at the tip of her tongue. “Why did you come with my mom? Why did you come to rescue me?” and that was bothering her too. She couldn’t explain it.

“I don't know,” that wasn't exactly true, but you really didn't know the entire reason you took such a big risk. Liking Astrid wasn’t all there was to it. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “I guess I just couldn't stand by when someone I know got tricked into losing her life. I just didn’t want you dead, Astrid,” you admitted.

“That's the third time you said my name, you know? In all the time you've known me,” she smiled softly, and she was right, it really was the third time you said her name. It felt kind of strange, almost unique on your tongue, because you've never really mentioned her name to other people either. You just either called her by her last name or simply chihuahua so saying Astrid would take some getting used to.

“I guess I did,” you looked at the table. “I was thinking, and you can say no, but would you like to start over? Maybe try to be friends or maybe you know go out for a coffee? I mean I imagine whatever I come up with won't be as bad as your first date so you know, we could make it a friendly date and fix the impression on dating you probably have right now? And now I'm rambling but you get the point!” you were ready for her to decline, to say that, while she can tolerate you now and maybe doesn’t want you to die either, she just wasn't interested in building any kind of friendship with you, much less going on a date.

But instead she actually smiled and looked down a little bit shyly. “I'd actually like that. We can go on the date, an actual date, I mean if that's not too fast for you,” she lightly scratched her cheek in embarrassment. “Looks like I kind of have a knack for rushing things,” she laughed and you laughed with her.

Date it was.

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Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

A/N: This chapter kicked my ass! Fuck! I actually got annoyed writing it! Damn am I glad it's over, but fuck, it's so bad. Writing feels choppy, Reader basically just stands there, for most of the chapter. And it could have been much worse, I could have included the dance scene properly... Fuck, I hate this chapter. I need some Lost to recover from this, be back after I rewrite a couple of Lost chapters. You all might be getting Lost Prologue sooner or later.

[ncfan-1]

God, yes. Not for a single moment has Sol’s death ever felt like a triumphant moment to me. It feels inevitable the way the climax of a Greek tragedy is inevitable. He had so many opportunities to save himself from the death that was coming for him and he didn’t take any of them, because taking them would necessitate him doing the thing he could never do, which was truly confront and reckon with his past wrongdoings, which in turn he could not do because he was so crippled by guilt that he couldn’t even look at his wrongdoings long enough to take responsibility for them.

And the other reason it feels inevitable and tragic is because of Osha. Osha, whom it becomes increasingly clear over the course of the show is a powder keg of pressurized negative emotions just waiting for a spark to set it all off, and her finding out that Sol was her mother’s killer and had deceived her about everything for the past sixteen years was that spark. When she kills him, it’s the culmination of her life falling the fuck apart as she’s forced to confront the fact that everything she thought she knew for the past sixteen years was a lie. She looks at him and think: you killed my mother, you lied to me, you let me think I was the problem, you let me love you knowing you had my mother’s blood on your hands. You lied to me and told me my sister was responsible for it all, and you stood there and watched as my grief and my hate and my guilt and self-loathing for not being able to stop loving her even as I hated her so much ate me alive, and all of it was a lie, all of it was for nothing, I spent sixteen years hating my sister for nothing! And maybe we could have reconciled, maybe we could have been a family again, but maybe we won’t be, maybe we never can be anymore, not because she killed our family, but because I’ve said and done things to her that she might never forgive me for, because of the lies you told me about her! And now you try and tell me you love me?! For sixteen years, I would have given anything to hear you say that you loved me, and you never did, but now you can say it, now that I know you have my mother’s blood on your hands? Only now?!

Osha killing Sol is not a moment of triumph. Osha killing Sol is the final destruction of her life as she has known it, her completely succumbing to her rage and grief, and I don’t think her rage or her grief will ever let go of her again. Because if there’s anything we know about Osha, it’s that she cannot let go of anyone she has ever loved. She spent sixteen years loving and hating Mae in equal measure, and hating herself just as much as she hated Mae for not being able to stop loving Mae even in the face of everything she “did,” and now, it’s going to be the same way with Sol. She will love and hate Sol in equal measure, and she will hate herself just as much as she hates him for not being able to stop loving him, even in the face of everything he did to her.

As long as Osha remains on the Dark Side, she will never be free. The Dark Side is like a hall of mirrors that shows you nothing but yourself. There is no healing within it, no truth. The path she is on at the end of the show can only lead her to further pain. I cannot imagine a second season of The Acolyte that did not portray Osha as completely embittered, constantly going back to pick at the sites of her old wounds, just completely fucking miserable, because it’s the natural progression from where she goes at the end of the first season. How is that triumphant? Osha is now a pressurized powder keg of bitterness and self-loathing; how is that triumphant?

And I… actually can buy that Qimir’s interest in Osha might be reciprocated, but omitting the kiss scene (which I guess would have taken place at the end after they got back to the unnamed planet) was definitely the right call, because it would have been so incredibly tonally dissonant with everything that happened in that episode. That last scene with Osha and Qimir feels so incredibly uneasy and ambivalent, because Osha does indeed look completely embittered, and Qimir… Qimir actually does look a bit uneasy, at least to my eyes?

My take is that in getting Osha to agree to be his acolyte, Qimir has sown the wind, and does not yet appreciate that he must reap the whirlwind. I looked at him and thought “My dude, do you really think you’re safe? She killed Sol, who was basically her father, with straightforward determination when she found out what he did. And following that, she embraced the harmfully self-oriented mindset of the Dark Side and agreed to let her sister be completely screwed over and thrown to the wolves to ensure her own escape. These are people whom she has known and loved for so long, and as for you, Osha’s had head colds that have lasted longer than she’s known you, so do you really think you’re safe?”

Like, Osha might turn out to be a lot better at this Dark Side thing than Qimir is prepared to deal with. I could definitely buy the eventual romance, but I feel like it would have been a textbook destructive romance, because that’s the natural place for things to go from here. And as for Qimir, he has 100% bitten off way more than he can chew with Osha.

Osha joining the Dark Side was a triumphant moment.

The writer of the Acylote said that is how we're supposed to feel:

"You want to feel Osha’s triumph. You want to feel her joining forces with The Stranger...Even though they are standing there, looking out at the sunset, ready to conquer the world, the tragedy is we know they don’t."

Note: the tragedy is NOT that a lot of people died, but that the two can't be together (because of Plagueis). (interview here)

Now, if that doesnt absolve villains of their bullshit, I dont know what does.

Let me try inserting some other fictional baddies.

"You want to feel Walter White's triumph. You want to feel him joining forces with the Nazis......Even though they are standing there, looking out at the desert, ready to conquer the world, the tragedy is we know they don’t."

"You want to feel the Frey's triumph. You want to feel them joining forces with the Boltons. ...Even though they are standing there, looking out over the Red Wedding, ready to conquer the world, the tragedy is we know they don’t."

"You want to feel Anakin's triumph. You want to feel him joining forces with Palpatine. ...Even though they are standing there, looking out at the burning Jedi temple, ready to conquer the world, the tragedy is we know they don’t."

[manias-wordcount]

Hi, can I request a Midoriya Izuku x Fem reader from childhood friends to lovers, if you can please do it oneshot ,of course you can do it whenever you want, have a nice day.

Exception (Izuku Midoriya x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀 ): 𝗶 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝗱 ):

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

For the longest time, the two of you only had each other.

You didn’t know anyone else who was quirkless. He didn’t know anyone else either. So it made sense that the two of you would cling together. It made sense that the two of you would seek solace and reassurance in each other. It made sense that the two of you would be together- always and forever. It made sense. The two of you made sense. It just did. 

Until it didn’t.

Ten years ago, your best friend in the whole world suddenly had a quirk. It happened suddenly. Practically overnight. All that the talk about him training and wanting to become a hero suddenly felt a lot more possible than the two of you ever thought possible. But you suppose things aren’t meant to go your way. At least, not forever. Because it was then that he took off running- as if he sprouted wings and learned how to fly. 

That new power of his took him to UA High School while you were stuck at the local high school- the one you thought the two of you were always going to end up going to together. Sure, the two of you were still able to see each other after school every now and then. But with him going to UA living the life of a hero-in-training meant that you and your boring civilian life were competing with so much now. Because the two of you no longer only had each other. 

Because he had so much more now. More friends. More love to go ahead. More reasons to keep him busy. More reason to have him reschedule your hangouts. More reasons to have him cancel on you. More reasons for him to miss your cancels and respond to your texts later and later and later. More reasons for him to lose track of your number altogether. And eventually, more reasons for you to stop trying to compete. Because as much as you hate to admit it, things are different. They had to be different. He wasn’t quirkless anymore. So he didn’t have time to spend with quirkless nobodies like you. He had lives to save. Villains to fight. A quirk to train. And so much more to do. And none of those things would ever, ever include you.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

But then one day, you saw him again. Just a chance encounter. A small sighting of the Pro-Hero Deku out on the streets, giving interviews after a particularly nasty, yet quick battle. You didn’t mean to stay. But then again, you never meant to spend the last decade or so keeping up with his interviews and fight footage. Praying and cheering silently that he would make it out of every battle unscathed.

So you found yourself lingering. Just watching from your spot in the crowd as just another fan and concerned citizen. Just another nameless, faceless person who heroes like him keep safe. Someone thankful, but forgettable. Someone with nothing but awe and praise for people like him, but completely ordinary. Someone who will disappear the second you step out of sight.

But then his eyes met yours. 

For a stupid second, you wanted to believe that he recognized you. You wanted to believe he knew it was you as looked out into the crowd and right in your direction. But then the moment lasted longer than a second. And then it was longer than a minute. And then it was glances back in your direction, every chance he could get. Throughout the interview. Throughout the autographs. Throughout the crowding and chaos and the mayhem. 

That morning, you thought everything was going to be painfully normal, as it always was. That afternoon, you received a phone call from a number you thought you would never see again. That night, you found yourself being invited to an apartment in an expensive part of the city that you know you and your best friend in the whole wide world would have balked at just over a decade ago. And the morning after?

You find yourself walking up in a pair of arms that are oh-so-familiar, yet so very different from when you last saw them. 

It was still Izuku Midoriaya that invited you over as if you were still fourteen years old, ready to trade comic books and swap hero-sighting stories. But Neither of you could deny the fact that he was a changed man. Though neither of you could deny the level of change you had to go through either. Because unsurprisingly, his absence left a hole in your heart. Quirkless people are growing fewer and fewer by the day. Your world became lonelier without him in it. And no amount of whispered promises or recorded TV interviews was going to bring that back. No amount of anything was going to bring your best friend back and all the years that were stolen from you. 

Still, he tried. He got down on his knees and held your face in his hands as he tried to explain himself to you. He told you everything. He told you about every time he canceled. He told you about every time he forgot to call. He told you about why he kept his distance. He told you about why it pained him, so to keep himself away from you. Because apparently, he had made enemies early on. Apparently, your name had been used as leverage against him starting as early as your freshmen year of high school.

Apparently, he would rather die than get you caught up in his mess after he had already broken his promise of forever and always with you.

And it worked. All his convincing- all his words? It worked. It worked because you could still hear him. You could still hear your Izuku’s voice despite the years that have passed you both by. It may be older and a little bit gruffer now, but you could still hear him. And it also worked because you could still see him. You could still see the places where his youthful and childlike expression would have been. You could still see that very little about him has changed. And the parts that did change all came with murmured explanations in your ear and he encouraged you to trace your finger over every scar and every freckle as his own arms circled themselves around your waist. Asking you over and over again if he still looks like the boy you used to know. 

If you could love him like the boy you used to know.

Now, maybe you’re stupid. Maybe you’re far too lonely and broken, and he’s feeling far too high on nostalgia and your tears to see why this might be a bad idea. Or maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re not stupid, and maybe this isn’t a bad idea. Maybe for once in a long, long time, the two of you can have each other again without things ending up in heartbreak. After all, you’re tired of re-reading old old text messages. You’re tired of watching interviews. You’re tired of watching his life from the sideline. You’re tired of facing the end of always and forever. 

So, is it really wrong to want this for yourself? Is it really so wrong when the arms, fresh with new scars and wounds of battle and fights you know nothing about are opening themselves up so willingly to you? You don’t think so. You really, really don’t think so. But then again, what do you know? Nothing, after all. You know absolutely nothing. Because you weren’t the exception back then.

So who says you’ll be the exception now?

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER PT5 | MV1

an: AND WE'RE BACK!! WHO MISSED OUR FAVOURITE LITTLE FAMILY! can't wait to hear what you guys think of this part, i've loved being with them this week, this is a shorter chapter but i've got ideas for what might happen next! lmk if y'all wanna see anything in particular

wc: 3.2k

Theo was four when his parents welcomed his sister, and Max very nearly missed it, if not for Danny.

It had been a normal day at the garage, Max elbow-deep in an engine rebuild, grease staining his hands and his focus entirely on the task at hand. His phone, forgotten on the workbench, buzzed furiously with calls and messages. It wasn’t until Danny came barreling into the shop, panting like he’d just run a marathon, that Max looked up.

“Max! Man, what the hell are you doing?” Danny wheezed, clutching his knees.

Max straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Uh, working? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re dying.”

Danny shot him a glare, pointing accusingly at the phone vibrating incessantly on the workbench. “Your wife is trying to call you! She’s in labour, man! She’s having the baby!”

Max froze, the rag slipping from his fingers. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital! Her aunt’s with her, but you need to move! Now!”

Max’s heart lurched into overdrive. Without a word, he sprinted to the workbench, grabbed his phone, and bolted out the door. “Danny, lock up!” he shouted over his shoulder as he jumped onto his bike.

Danny shook his head, muttering, “You owe me for this one, man.”

Max arrived at the hospital in record time, still in his grease-stained shirt and boots. His wife was mid-contraction when he burst into the room, panting, his face a mixture of guilt and relief.

“You’re here,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing slightly before softening at his frazzled appearance.

“I’m here,” he confirmed, rushing to her side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, angel. My phone was on silent—”

“Save it,” she hissed, squeezing his hand so tightly he thought his bones might break. “You’re here now. Just don’t let go.”

Max didn’t. Not for a second. Hours later, they welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world. Max cried as he held her for the first time, the tiny bundle swaddled in pink resting against his chest. He looked at his wife, her hair damp and her face radiant despite her exhaustion.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

Their daughter, Mary-Ann, came home a few days later to a little house with a white picket fence that they had purchased not long before her birth. It was a modest place, but it was theirs, filled with laughter, love, and the chaos that only a toddler and a newborn could bring.

Theo was adjusting to his new role as a big brother with enthusiasm and curiosity. He followed his parents around, always asking to hold the baby or show her his toys. “She likes dinosaurs, right?” he would ask, clutching his favourite plastic stegosaurus.

“She loves dinosaurs,” Max assured him, grinning as he ruffled Theo’s hair.

Max had seamlessly embraced fatherhood, splitting his time between the garage and his family. He spent his evenings teaching Theo how to kick a football in the back garden and his nights rocking Mary-Ann to sleep.

The house, with its picket fence and flowerbeds lovingly tended by his wife, was the picture of the life Max had never imagined for himself. Yet, here he was, living it and loving every moment.

The day of Mary-Ann’s baptism dawned clear and bright, the kind of perfect day that made everything feel just a little more magical. Their little family was dressed in their Sunday best, Theo proudly wearing a bowtie that his mother had wrestled him into after much negotiation, and Mary-Ann bundled in a delicate white christening gown.

They arrived at the church to find her aunt, Danny, and a few close friends waiting for them, just as they had for Theo’s baptism years ago. Her aunt immediately swooped in to coo over Mary-Ann, her face soft with affection.

“She’s the spitting image of you at this age,” her aunt said warmly, brushing a soft curl away from Mary-Ann’s forehead.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit my teenage rebellion,” she joked, glancing at Max, who chuckled.

The service itself was intimate and beautiful. As the pastor spoke, Theo sat on Max’s lap, squirming occasionally but staying quiet enough to earn whispered praise from both his parents. When it came time for the baptism, Max and his wife stood together at the front of the church, Theo holding onto his mother’s hand while Max held Mary-Ann close.

The pastor asked Theo if he wanted to say anything, and the boy puffed out his chest importantly, his tiny voice ringing out through the quiet chapel. “We’re all gonna be... um... part of Chris-tain-ity now!”

There was a soft chuckle from the congregation, but Theo frowned, frustrated by his own mispronunciation. His brows knitted together, and before anyone could stop him, he muttered under his breath, “Damn it.”

Max’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at his son. “Where did you hear that, Theo?”

Without hesitation, Theo turned and pointed to Danny, who froze mid-grin. “Uncle Daddy says it all the time.”

The entire room dissolved into laughter, but Max’s expression darkened. “His name is Uncle Danny. Not Daddy,” he corrected firmly. He handed Mary-Ann to his wife with exaggerated care and then fixed Danny with a dangerous look. “Uncle Danny also has five seconds to run.”

Danny’s eyes widened as he stammered, “Now, hold on a second—”

“Five.”

Danny bolted toward the back of the church, nearly tripping over a pew. Max didn’t miss a beat, stepping around the altar and charging after him. Theo laughed hysterically as he watched his father chase Danny out the door, and his mother shook her head, trying to stifle her own giggles.

When Max returned a few minutes later, slightly winded but victorious, Danny trailing behind him with a sheepish grin, the ceremony continued. The pastor, who had been struggling to keep a straight face, resumed his blessing, and little Mary-Ann was baptised without further incident.

As they left the church, Theo clung to Max’s hand, his face lit with excitement. “Daddy, can I chase Uncle Danny next time?”

Max ruffled his hair, smirking. “Not until you’re faster than me, kid.”

The two of them loved the life they had built together and sometimes when Max woke up he had to pinch himself. Just under half a decade ago he was eating dry hotdogs and drinking stale beers in a rundown trailer. Now he was helping his wife. His wife. In the kitchen with his two kids. Not one, two. Max was a father and everyday he woke up he couldn’t really believe. it.

The smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the house as she stood at the counter, carefully icing a tray of perfectly golden cupcakes. Mary-Ann was nestled in her baby chair nearby, happily chewing on a soft toy, and the kitchen felt like the warm, beating heart of their home.

Out in the garage, Max had Theo standing on a small step stool by the workbench, his tiny hands gripping a wrench that was far too big for him. Max crouched beside him, guiding his hands as they worked on an old oil pan together. Theo giggled every time Max made a joke, his high-pitched laughter filling the air.

She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a glass of iced tea, and wandered outside to watch her boys. Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms and smiled. “Teaching him how to change oil already? He’s four, Max.”

Max turned, his grease-streaked face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey, never too early to learn the basics, right, buddy?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, smearing a streak of oil across his cheek as he waved the wrench triumphantly. “Mama, I’m helping!”

“I can see that,” she laughed, walking over and kissing the top of his messy hair.

As her gaze wandered around the garage, it landed on their old motorbike, tucked into the corner, its polished chrome gleaming even in the dim light. Her smile turned into a smirk, and she gestured toward it with her glass. “You know, you’re going to have to sell that death trap.”

Max froze mid-laugh, a look of horror crossing his face. “What? No way. We’ve got so many memories with that bike.”

“We have two kids now, Max.”

He frowned, standing up and crossing his arms. “But what if Theo wants it when he grows up?”

She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. “He’s not stepping a foot on that thing.”

Max threw his hands up in exaggerated protest. “Oh, so when it’s us, it’s fine, but when it’s Theo, it’s a problem?”

She grinned, completely unbothered. “Yup.”

Before he could argue further, Danny strolled into the garage, a familiar plastic container in hand. “Alright, where’s the good stuff? I heard there’s baking going on in that kitchen, and you know the deal—Danny gets dibs.”

She laughed, pointing toward the house. “I’ll bring you some in a second. Just made a fresh batch.”

As Danny leaned against the workbench, Max glanced at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, Danny, you wanna buy that death trap over there?”

Danny raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bike. “How much are we talking?”

Max grinned. “Fifty bucks.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

Max smirked, holding out a hand. “You buy it, but I still get to use it whenever I want.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head but reaching out to shake Max’s hand anyway. “You got yourself a deal, man.”

Max turned to her with a triumphant grin, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. “See? It’s sold. Problem solved.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiling as she headed back into the house. “You two are impossible.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Max knelt back down beside Theo, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy, what’s a death trap?”

Max chuckled, ruffling his hair. “It’s something fun that your mom doesn’t like.”

From the kitchen, she called out, “I heard that!”

While she packed up some of her baked goods for Danny she too thought of how lucky she was. How all her prayers had been listened to. How she finally made it out of that house. How she was going to witness all her own kid’s life milestones with joy and love, not hatred and jealousy. 

The morning of Theo’s first day of school, the sunlight streamed through the windows as the family bustled to get ready. Theo stood proudly in his brand-new school uniform, his backpack almost as big as he was. Mary-Ann, her curls tied up in tiny pigtails, was toddling around in her nursery outfit, clutching her stuffed bunny like it was her lifeline.

Their mother, however, was a whirlwind of emotions. She double-checked Theo’s lunchbox for the third time and nearly forgot to zip Mary-Ann’s coat, all while blinking back tears.

“I can’t believe they’re both going,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she fixed Theo’s collar for the tenth time.

Max, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, tried to hide his grin. “Sweetheart, they’re not moving out. It’s just school and nursery.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t start with me today, Max.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Come here, buddy,” he said, crouching down to Theo’s level. “You ready for your big day?”

Theo nodded, his little chest puffed out. “I’m gonna make so many friends!”

Max ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy. And you,” he added, turning to Mary-Ann and lifting her into his arms. “You take care of those nursery teachers, alright? Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Mary-Ann giggled, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

After a bittersweet drop-off that left her sniffling the entire car ride home, they returned to their now eerily quiet house. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

She walked into the living room, glanced at the toys still scattered around, and sighed heavily, sinking into the couch. “It’s too quiet.”

Max sat beside her, pulling her into his side. “I told you this morning was gonna hit you hard.”

She swatted his chest lightly. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the house without one of them here. It’s so empty.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. “What if they need me? What if Mary-Ann gets scared? Or Theo forgets his lunch?”

Max chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Sweetheart, Theo’s got this. The kid’s practically running for class president. And Mary-Ann? She’s gonna have the nursery wrapped around her finger before lunch.”

She peeked at him from behind her hands, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, she leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence soothe her. But the silence of the house pressed in again, making her sigh.

Max pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we’ve got the house all to ourselves now.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Max…”

He grinned, running his fingers lightly up her arm. “I’m just saying. We’ve got a whole empty house and a few hours of peace.”

Despite herself, she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” he countered, leaning closer. “We might never get this chance again, angel. Think about it.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this right now.”

“I’m just trying to make the most of the quiet,” he teased, his hand slipping around her waist. “And besides, you’re way too stressed. Let me help you relax.”

She laughed despite herself, the weight of the morning momentarily forgotten as he kissed her neck, his stubble tickling her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his lips, her heart finally feeling a little lighter.

And if she counted the exact weeks, that day was how she ended up pregnant with her third and final child.

Nine months later, their family grew again with the arrival of a boy they named Daniel. It was a tribute to Danny, their ever-reliable friend who had, over the years, become less like a buddy and more like an honorary member of the family.

Daniel came into the world with a loud cry and a shock of dark hair, immediately staking his place in the chaos of their household. Mary-Ann, now three and brimming with sass, had proudly declared herself the "boss" of her new baby brother. She often toddled around after him, dragging her favourite stuffed bunny in one hand and fussing over Daniel like a miniature mother.

Theo, at five, took his role as the eldest sibling very seriously. He loved showing off to Mary-Ann and anyone who’d listen about how he could hold his baby brother “without dropping him” (a feat Max closely supervised with a hovering hand). Theo also began peppering Max with endless questions about how cars worked, proudly announcing that he’d take over the garage one day.

The house was louder now, bursting with life and love in every corner. Daniel’s cries, Theo’s endless chatter, and Mary-Ann’s theatrical storytelling meant there was never a dull moment.

Max had learned to juggle bottles, bedtime stories, and car repairs, often collapsing into bed with her at the end of the day, marvelling at the whirlwind their life had become.

On quieter days—though “quiet” was a stretch—she’d watch Max play with the kids in their backyard. Mary-Ann would climb all over him, Theo would ask a million questions about the engine of a toy car, and baby Daniel would sit in his lap, chewing on whatever he could grab.

Sunday mornings had become a cherished tradition for her. Dressing Theo in his little button-up shirts, coaxing Mary-Ann into tights and her favourite frilly dress, and cradling baby Daniel in his soft onesie all felt like sacred rituals. She loved sharing her faith with her children, teaching them the hymns, and watching their faces light up during Sunday school.

But as much as she loved church, there was always a weight to bear. Her parents still attended the same church, their presence lingering like a spectre of the past. While most of the congregation had embraced her family with warmth, her parents had not. They’d sit on the far side of the pews, casting disapproving glares, and every so often, there were whispers—cutting, cruel words spread by those who believed her parents' version of events.

Still, she focused on her children. Theo beamed when he memorised Bible verses, Mary-Ann proudly showed off her colouring pages, and baby Daniel giggled at the choir. Sharing this part of her life with them felt like reclaiming something pure.

That afternoon, the church hosted a children’s Bible study, and she stayed to help with crafts and snacks while Max wrangled the baby. Daniel was perfectly content napping on his dad’s chest while Max sat in the corner, earning approving glances from the other parents for his patience and attentiveness.

As they packed up to leave, her father appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a storm cloud. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of disdain. He walked past her, close enough that she could feel the venom in his whispered word:

"Whore."

The word cut through her like a knife. She froze, her heart pounding, the air sucked out of the room. Before she could even react, Max’s voice broke the moment.

"Angel, hold Daniel."

She turned to him, startled, as he handed her the baby with a calmness that belied the fire in his eyes. Then, without hesitation, Max spun on his heel and marched toward her father.

The sound of Max’s fist connecting with her father’s jaw was thunderous in the quiet room. Her father staggered back, clutching his face, as gasps rippled through the remaining churchgoers.

Max stood tall, his voice steady but cold. “Don’t you ever call my wife that again. You lost any right to speak to her the day you hurt her and abused your power. She’s a better person than you’ll ever be.”

Her father glared up at Max, but he didn’t dare rise. The weight of his disgrace was palpable as the onlookers murmured, their judgement no longer directed at her but at the man who had insulted his own daughter in a house of worship.

She stood rooted to the spot, Daniel cradled in her arms, her cheeks flushed. She could feel every eye in the room on her, but the only one that mattered was Max’s. He turned back to her, his expression softening, and strode toward her.

Max placed a gentle hand on her back, his touch grounding her. “Let’s go, angel,” he said quietly, his voice carrying none of the anger from moments before.

She nodded, unable to form words, and followed him out, their children close by. As they left the church, she glanced down at Theo and Mary-Ann, both wide-eyed but clutching each other’s hands tightly.

When they got to the car, she took a deep, shaky breath. “Max—”

He cut her off with a kiss to her temple. “Don’t. You don’t owe him anything. Not even your anger.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into him, Daniel squirming lightly in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Max tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “You and these kids are my family. No one, not even him, gets to treat you like that.”

taglist: @sinofwriting @le-le-lea @vanicogh @iamred-iamyellow @rayaskoalaland @spookyanamurdock @iimplicitt @hellowgoodbye @maximuminfluencerstarlight @lottalove4evelyn @piceous21 @ladscarlett @leclerc13 @linnygirl09 @labelledejourr @cmleitora @fortunapre @felicityforyou @isagrace22 @bookishnerd1132 @formulaal @mastermindbaby @daddyslittlevillain @inmynotes63 @litllefox @hollstopia

[ellouchi]

Yet again I see people mischaracterizing Jimmy as some jerk who lashes out on people for no reason and berates them for anything minor like where did you get this from did you actually read any dialogues in the game????????

Jimmy really only threw one shade at Daisuke, he didn't think he was spoilt rich kid he just said he was covered by his parents because he had support system unlike all of them grown up adults. Most of times Jimmy just awkwardly slid off silly things Daisuke said, like the ladies comment or when they were mixing the drink. Daisuke actually trusted and listened to Jimmy throughout the game (to his own detriment unfortunately). Jimmy sent him to the vent because he was the captain and he wasn't going to do the dirty job obviously and if the Swansea somehow woke up Jimmy could shift the blame like he had already got away with. Even when eventually things went to shits we don't see him blaming Daisuke because Jimmy recognised that it was his decision to send him there. Jimmy didn't want to fatally injure him, he tried to "fix it later" which didn't help at all and Jimmy felt guilty about it.

Jimmy treated Anya dog shit half the time it's true but not to the extent some people make it to be. He loves control, he has said so to Curly's face, to ours and that's why he made sure to put her down and belittle her. That's why he (potentially repeatedly) sexually assaulted Anya — because rape is form of power play, he didn't even want her sexually. Initially, Jimmy didn't hate Anya, he just didn't like her and the feeling was mutual. He continued to do bare minimum for her, like when checking up on the crew. If I had to guess how Jim viewed her by the end, then he most likely found her inferior, incompetent, always putting work on his shoulders (or responsibilities he didn't want (pregnancy)), together with being paranoid of her having the potential to ruin his life. That's why he got so pissed off when he saw her crying to Swansea, very likely having already told another person of what he has done. (I'm 100% sure he holds the grudge for telling Curly, who then rushed to "fix things", making Curly seem like a responsible captain which Jim hated.)

Jimmy never made any attempts at understanding or sympathising with Swansea. He knew him longer than Daisuke yet the latter understood him better. Jimmy probably thought that Swansea was an old grumpy man who hated everyone and everything. As the game went on Jimmy just considered Swansea to be nothing but a selfish drunkard (due to immediately assuming he was hoarding cryopod to himself). After the vent incident who Jim blames for the absence of medicine? If Swansea wasn't so stubborn (for like, few times) Jimmy wouldn't have need to spend prescious recourses on him. He could have saved Daisuke instead and fix his fuck up but Swansea ruined it twice. Swan doing arguably the right thing by putting out Daisuke out of his misery only solidified his role as a villain and a threat in Jimmy's eyes, that's why probably as a revenge (for not giving him enough time to think) he went for the gun instead of cryopod like Swansea allowed him to.

And finally Curly. Honestly this deserves a separate book on it's own at this point. It's almost 3 a.m. here so I'll only mention some stuff. Jim aggressively lashes out twice on-screen, first time because he literally lost his dream job, listened to Curly "bitching about having said dream job" and couldn't come face to the fact that Curly was "abandoning him while also looking unscratched from the fall of the ladder" while Jimmy will return to his struggle of life (he didn't even know about the pregnancy yet...). Second time was when Anya endangered Jim's new status as a captain and like I mentioned reminded him that she could fuck up his life even more. Feeling like he was losing control, Jimmy beat up poor Curly who was stripped out of said control by non other than Jimmy. Finally, he was violent off screen by destroying Polle, out of frustration, irritation from the thing, and/or hatred and resentment for the company (que "Pony express is dead" line). In one instance he says "He's mocking us" which confirms that it's about Jimmy's ego.

In conclusion STOP MAKING MY SHITTY CHARACTER SHITTY IN THE WRONG WAYS. This isn't even a full blown analysis of Jimmy's character but accumulation of posts I read and conclusions I came with.

Focus on his already preexisting shitty qualities stop making up new ones ffs signing out.

[ray-moo]

There's not really a tactful or diplomatic way to address this for non-Christians who don't share our worldview.

"Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)

God doesn't owe anyone life, from the oldest, frailest man to the youngest, healthiest baby. It's His to give and His to take as He sees fit.

But it is in God's infinite love that He probably does give life to children, even after they die. David says "While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, ‘Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and let the child live.’ But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me.” (2 Samuel 12:22) And the Hebraist says "But we do not belong to those who shrink back and are destroyed, but to those who have faith and are saved. Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for ... And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised ... Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 10:39-12:2 with relevant chunks selected).

David expects to see his child again. David received what was due to him for his faith and is a witness to Christians on Earth.

I could go into why I believe children who die early are given eternal life, but I think it's enough to say that no one lives without God intending to nor do they die before God wills it, blessed be His name.

people tell me i could just choose not to be Christian. that it would save me a lot of struggle. unfortunately, i am hooked on Jesus. irrevocably, incurably, permanently attached to Christ. there's no stopping it - I'm in love with a man who is God

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

Obsessed with how the foundation of 911 Lonestar is that ‘love is trying’. Just constantly, relentlessly, desperately trying for the people you love. It’s how Owen moved his entire life to Austin, just to try saving his son again—who has relapsed a number of times. Who has went to rehab before. grace trying to pull her husband from the deepest depths of despair. TK hating hiding his relationship but agreeing to be Carlos’s personal shopper just so that his boyfriend can feel safe. Marjan fighting with Paul for his heart problems. Mateo saving his cousin over and over and over again. Grace finding the heart to forgive her father. Tommy not giving up her dream of becoming a mother. Michelle, who fully knowing how insane the whole sage bath thing was to her and doing it anyways because what if Iris really does come back this way. TK and Carlos with the whole Cooper thing. Carlos didn’t like it but he tried to understand that he’s not everything TK needed at the moment. Them throughout S5–just trying. Carlos with his parents. TK with Owen and Gwen. Nancy and Tommy. Judd and his dad. Owen, who didn’t know his brother his whole life but loved him all the same.

LS has as many flaws as the next show, and lord does the show have inconsistencies, major loopholes, and just batshit storylines somehow but I love how the thing that connects every single character is how much they try. No matter how many times they fall, they try because love is trying and trying and trying and trying and trying.

[hehe-69]

Solavellan haunts my every waking moment, I can’t stop thinking about them, thinking about Solas.

Veilgaurd Spoilers

Imagine knowing you cannot give to me all of you because you are still bounded to the will of someone you called “friend”. Bounded and enslaved to a purpose and wanting so desperately to leave that purpose behind so that you could have them and give them all of you.

But you can’t, they have your heart, they consume you completely but you cannot. You are ruined and twisted.

Thats a different level of pain, wanting, yearning, waiting, for 10 STINKING YEARSSSS but knowing you can’t give them what they deserve, what you so desperately want to give them, that you cannot HAVE THEM.

And believing you are too far gone for them to love you, that you are to twisted and rustiness to be loved but they still do, they FORGIVE you after you lied and betrayed them and all you have to do is stop but you can’t.

You’re bounded to this purpose because of the enslavement to someone who stole you from the fade you loved and twisted your purpose in ways that no other spirit has been twisted.

And finally you are free, but you wouldn’t dare ask them to go with you not after all you’ve done. But they choose you again forever and always. They choose to love you and they love you willingly and unconditionally in such a mind bogglingly beautiful way. It makes me SICK and the most wonderful of ways.

I wish we got to see more of Solas and Inky, they are so complex and beautiful and pure in their love for each other.

Inky’s love makes Solas pure again, it makes him whole again, it makes him him again. It makes him something more than he was in the beginning, it gives him hope.😭😭

The fact that his fist decisions that aren’t influenced by Mythal is him seeking atonement and choosing to be with Inky and letting himself BE LOVED FOR ONCE.

They make me want to write again

I will never not choose them to have their happy ending I physically cannot do it not after everything they’ve both suffered.

Varric died trying to save Solas I feel like not redeeming Solas goes against what Varric sacrificed himself for. He loved his friends so deeply he risked his life trying to save him from himself. Varric always wanted happy endings to his stories and for his friends, the least I can do is honor him by giving this one the one he wanted. The one that Solavellan DESERVES.

This game is, at its core, about many different shades of love and devotion and the many ways that it can be twisted to distorted beyond the point of recognition.

I mean LOOK AT HIS FACE WHEN HE LOOKS INTO HER EYES IM GONNA PUNCH A TREE

[scribescrawls]

Thinking about headcanon established relationship Skystar in Transformers One setting where before Sentinel’s betrayal, they’ve already completed the conjunx ritus many cycles ago and have been together for a while, though they often have to spend time apart more often now because Starscream chose to join the High Guard switching from scientist to warrior when the war with the Quintessons got more serious. Over the cycles Starscream climbs his way up the ranks and becomes leader of the High Guard, while Skyfire works in his lab. They still do the equivalent of video calling when they can and see each other when Starscream has leave to visit home. And despite the war, they’re just so happy together.

And then one day everything changes. We the audience know that Sentinel betrayed the Primes and that the High Guard managed to survive. But the official story Sentinel tells is that everyone died. And I think about it from Skyfire’s point of view his entire world just falls apart that day. Skyfire thinking Starscream died and mourns for 50 cycles. The planet’s flow of energon disappearing seems to reflect how he feels in his spark as if all the life has drained away from it. What if he races in the Iacon 5000 every cycle because it’s a fast paced, often dangerous race and it’s the exact kind of thing Starscream would love and he does it cause it makes him feel closer to Starscream as a way to cope. But no matter how fast he flies he can never outrun his grief.

Meanwhile imagine Starscream holds back from contacting Skyfire because no matter how badly he wants to talk to his conjunx, it is too much of a risk that Sentinel could find out and kill Skyfire if he thinks the other is a loose end that needs to be silenced. We know Alpha Trion called for the High Guard with the distress beacon, but we also know that distress call ended up in the trash meaning it likely never made it to them. But we also know that Starscream did see/is aware of Sentinel being a traitor so it’s likely they made it to the cave so word must of reached them eventually that the Primes called for backup, but they probably arrived too late to save anyone. And I just think about the potential tragedy if Starscream had considered the Primes as people he cared about. Like he’s probably fought side by side with them, talked with them, exchanged jokes, looked up to them, and his duty was also to protect them. And he probably feels like he failed them. Like he just watched his leaders/comrades be betrayed and killed in front of him and now he and his troops are all alone. And he’s probably scared and has no one else to turn to for help or guidance. Like the High Guard likely looked to the Primes for orders and guidance for large matters, but now it’s just them left. The Matrix is gone, energon stops flowing so there’s a lack of food, the High Guard are being hunted down on top of it, and they’ve just watched the strongest amongst them be slaughtered. And Starscream is the only leader they have left and there’s the added weight that if they die the truth of Sentinel’s actions die with them. And as the leader of the High Guard many of the others are probably looking to him to know what to do in this situation now and he doesn’t know, but that won’t help anything so he probably pretends that he knows what he is doing and focuses on the immediate things he can control/address like finding food and shelter.

Like sure he did not manage to take out Sentinel on his own, but he kept everyone alive for 50 cycles on the surface where the landscape is dangerous and both the Quintessons and Sentinel are hunting them down. I personally headcanon that though the High Guard has always been militaristic in its behavior the more extreme ‘might makes right’ probably developed over the cycles as a way to maintain order and keep everyone from cannibalizing each other (metaphorically speaking or maybe even a little literal as there was likely a food shortage often). Like he was probably dealing with a large group of people who were both traumatized and constantly hangry for a long time. There were probably those who challenged Starscream’s decisions or those who grew desperate to return to Iacon or other cities to talk to loved ones as the cycles added up over the years and as a way to stop people from foolishly running off and getting killed that could lead others to the rest of them and get everyone else killed he probably resorted to the ‘strength of one bot over another’ thing. Anyway I don’t blame Starscream for not leading a head on attack against Sentinel throughout the years considering the circumstances, if I had to deal with the weight of all that I probably would have broken not even halfway through. Were the High Guard probably slowly losing it with each cycle? Probably. But they did survive for a long time and that’s impressive in its own right. I like to think that Starscream would constantly tell himself that one day when Sentinel was dead he’d get to reunite with Skyfire and it was one of the things he clung onto to not fall into despair.