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strawberrystepmom · 7 months

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izuku x f!reader. enemies to lovers au, workshopped with @izvmimi <33333 her follow up part can be found here. wc 3.6k.

With an exasperated sigh, Izuku points the remote that looks comically small in his hand toward the flat screen TV screwed into his office wall to turn the volume up the moment you come on screen.

“This week, yet another family was displaced by the inaction of heroes. When the focus shifted from merely catching villains rather than protecting the public…”

Your voice drifts into a blur, the man choosing to focus on your mouth and how it’s moving rather than what you’re saying. Plush and soft, topped with camera ready shimmering gloss. Your eyes are wide and doe like, your cheeks round and trustworthy. You’re the picture of empathy, pretty and polished, immaculate in every way.

It certainly isn’t hard to imagine why VOHSV, Victims of Hero Supported Violence, picked you as their spokesperson. Who else could manage this busy talk show circuit with expert precision? Watching you play the crowd and hosts’ emotions like a violin makes him roll his eyes but he can’t deny you are damn good.

Your message is infuriating to him and his colleagues but at least you look like heaven sent while spreading it. It’s probably why everything you say spreads like wildfire across the social media apps he has open on his unlocked phone that rests on his desk.

He’s listened to your spiel enough times that he can already fill in the blanks of what you’re saying but he picks up the remote and turns the volume up an additional click to be certain you haven’t deviated from your usual points. Costly property damage, displacement, lack of available care to those affected by the trauma of villain attacks, blah, blah, blah.

The interviewer appears on screen as the camera pans, nodding at the last comment you made that Izuku didn’t care to actually listen to.

“And how does your organization suggest the Commission begin combating these issues?”

The camera is quick to pan back to you with your perfect smile, teeth striking and bright and dazzling. The man watching from his oversized office and overstuffed chair clenches his fist watching you, uncertain if it’s annoyance or desire that fills his chest, but he doesn’t look away despite the flashing red light on his desk phone telling him he’s being paged by his assistant.

“I am personally calling upon the top heroes to do better.” Your smile doesn’t waver and the camera zooms in on your head and shoulders, allowing your next impassioned plea to land directly where you intend it to. “Deku, you claim you care, yet you are responsible for the most costly property damage caused by a hero in Japanese history. How do you explain that with that big smile plastered on your face?”

Bold of you to be taunting the man chuckling humorlessly from his desk about plastered on smiles with a high definition flat screen sized Cheshire grin of your own on your face but he appreciates the audacity.

“Be a hero instead of just talking about being one.”

Perhaps if your life’s path were different you’d be a hero just like him or maybe he’d even be you, full of righteous anger toward those who only wish to help no matter the means. Or collateral.

Without thinking, Izuku pulls his phone off of the top of his desk and his jaw slackens when he presses the little pen in the corner of the current most popular app in the app store. The speed of his thumbs is almost impressive, big hands on a little phone screen won’t stop the number one hero, and he smirks when his phone pings letting him know his post has gone live.

Deku (@fight4smiles)

Name the time and place, VOHSV. I’ll gladly drop a check by to cover some of the damage you allege I’ve been doing.

He gets to see your reaction in real time, the camera panning from you to the interviewer who grins excitedly, pressing on their in ear microphone and back. The man chuckles to himself, swinging back and forth in his chair, lips curved into a smirk.

“It appears the current number one hero has responded to your challenge. He’s willing to meet.”

Your smile droops but you’re quick to put it back in place, brows raised and head nodding wildly. The adversarial relationship between the two of you is nothing new, Deku having spent the better part of this entire year ducking and dodging your direct invitations to speak with the VOHSV.

He watches you smack your lips together and purse them, primly placing your hands in your lap and laughter comes easily. It’s no big deal to him to cut a check to help put some buildings back together, the many zeros on the end of his bank balance just one of the many perks of being at the top but it has never been about that for him.

Deep down, he knows he’ll never change your mind about your crusade but he would love to shut you up at least for a little while.

“How brave of him to finally step up. I will be reaching out to him soon with details.”

The red light on Izuku’s desk phone continues to blink wildly and just as he leans forward to answer it, his office door opens and his assistant stares at him with disbelief with the current number two Dynamight hot on their heels, pulling his mask off of his head and gently shoving them out of the way.

The assistant scurries back to their position outside of Deku’s office as quickly as possible, allowing the men privacy.

“Why did you do that?”

Izuku looks down at his cell phone and tosses it on his desk with a relaxed shrug. He catches a glance at your pretty face one last time before shutting the TV off, tossing the remote aside and turning his attention toward Katsuki with his arms folded over his chest.

“You know that you’re giving them what they want, right? Giving these shitheads attention is just going to create more of ‘em.”

More of them - outspoken victims’ rights activists. VOHSV is simply one of many groups that have cropped up over the last several years as hero academies have continued to churn out bigger and better heroes with every graduating class. It has been a decade since Izuku and Katsuki graduated and the classes after them have only become stronger, a source of pride for both of the men, given their hefty donations to their alma mater.

Sure the battles have become bigger, spectacles to be adapted into films and documentaries later, but isn’t that what being a hero is all about? What’s left behind after you save the day, no matter who may be affected?

The heroes of today are simply doing what they’ve been taught to do and that’s save the day no matter the cost. It’s hard to hold it against them when it’s systemic and historically that has been the main reason why most advocacy groups have fallen apart but not the VOHSV. They are succeeding because they have you, coiffed to perfection and ready to take anyone you can to task, including the devilishly handsome and arrogant man topping the hero charts.

Izuku sighs, his phone buzzing persistently on the desk in front of him. It’s certainly his agent or his PR team or someone eager to scold him for what he’s done so he ignores it, sliding the little piece of metal aside.

“I’d care more if their points were valid but we both know they aren’t. I’ll cut a check, flash a smile, and hopefully make their mouthpiece look silly enough she’ll stop doing press circuits. It seems like a winning situation to me.”

Bakugou snorts, unimpressed with the answer.

“What if this backfires and you look stupid?”

Izuku’s phone continues to buzz and he opens his desk drawer, sliding the device inside rather than deal with the issue at hand. He’ll comfort everyone later, what matters the most to him right now is when you’ll be brave enough to reach out to show him your hand. Right now, he has you backed into a corner and he simply wants to watch you make your way out of it, smug that he’s the one who has you pinned there.

“Impossible. People don’t take these organizations seriously enough for me to look stupid.”

Katsuki snorts, leaning against the door frame rather than fully entering the office. He was asked to stop by earlier this week, the two of them supposed to be ironing out details to appear at a hospital opening in another part of the city, but the task has clearly been put aside for a petty online feud headed by the Beacon of Hope himself.

“I think you’re already stupid.”

Izuku offers a curt smile and nods at his friend.

“I’ll take that into consideration along with all of your other opinions, don’t worry.”

Any further argument between the two is cut short when Deku’s assistant bursts back onto the scene, peeking around the door frame.

“Uh…the VOHSV spokesperson is on the phone for you, Mr. Midoriya.”

Izuku laughs and raises his brows, shifting forward in his chair and pressing the flashing line one button indicating a call is waiting. He presses his thick finger to his lips to encourage Bakugou and his assistant to be quiet and he hits the speaker button immediately.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

It takes all of you not to toss your phone across the room at the sound of his voice through your speaker. You’re in the back of a chauffeured vehicle, phone pressed to your ear so hard you swear that your cheek and head are going to hurt later, nursing a bottle of water in your free hand.

You weren’t expecting to hear from him so soon, either.

“I figured since you are so eager and have so much to say we may as well get this over with. We have an event on Friday night and you will be forwarded the details on location and attire and we are anticipating your donation of over five million yen. It will help many who have been harmed due to your recklessness.”

The blood pulsing in his ears makes the room seem smaller, the walls caving in on him with your words. You’re so adversarial toward him, so eager to bite and nip and bat with your claws out, and he wants to know why. What happened to make you distrust people like him so much?

Remembering he’s the one who has you backed into a corner, he shifts in his chair and tents his fingers on the desk in front of him.

“I’ll have your check, don’t worry. I won’t let you look silly in front of the fourteen VOHSV supporters you have to impress.”

You scoff incredulously. There is something seriously wrong with this man, his arrogance blinding his common sense. Your fingers ache where they grip into the metal sides of your phone and the driver keeps shifting his gaze from the road to the mirror to see your face twist into varying degrees of frustration and anger. Taking a deep breath, you let your lips curve into a smile and narrow your eyes.

Focus. You have him where you want him.

“I didn’t realize this conversation was meant for stooping to petty insults but I can’t say I’m shocked. It’s hardly a surprise you refuse to take anyone else’s safety given your own personal record of injured civilians while you’re handling villain attacks.”

Bakugou’s jaw drops and Izuku leans forward to lift the phone from its cradle, pressing the button to turn it off speaker at near record speed. It takes all of his self control to keep from snapping the cord in two knowing it would effectively end the call and thus his opportunity to antagonize you further.

“Well, you aren’t the only one who has done their homework. We pulled a profile on you months ago and know your entire background. You have no relevant experience that would allow you to criticize heroes the way that you do. Put yourself in our shoes.”

You snort from the other end of the phone, impressed by how bad he is at lying. Arrogance has truly won out over any logic this man may have in his entire body and you suck your teeth, jaw slackening because you have truly won this round.

“See, Deku, here’s the thing. If you were telling the truth about anything you just said then you would already know that I am a graduate of an international hero academy. I have been where you are, or at least wanted to be, but then I came to my senses. I used to hope you’d be able to do the same but it appears my faith was misplaced.”

Now Izuku’s jaw drops, his emerald eyes darting across the room as though the words he needs will magically spring forth from the walls. Sadly, nothing happens and he sits there with his mouth agape dumbly.

“I look forward to seeing you on Friday. Don’t forget that check.”

You pull the phone from your ear and end the call, laughing to yourself knowing that you left this cocky asshole speechless. He mimics your motion in his own office, pulling his desk phone from his ear and placing it back where it belongs. As badly as he wants to be frustrated by the loss to you, he’s impressed by how easily you hit back without an ounce of fear or worry of what you’re getting yourself into.

A woman as beautiful as she is brave and irritating.

He feels his cock stiffen slightly in his sweatpants the longer he thinks about it and frowns, immediately thinking of exploding buildings and grandmas to distance himself from the fact he’s into how eagerly you spar with him.

His assistant and Bakugou both stare at him, his friend laughing and turning on his heel to leave, waving dismissively.

“Like I said Deku, you’re already stupid. Have fun on Friday.”

Izuku’s assistant follows suit and closes the door behind them, giving him time to lick his wounds.

The rest of the week continues like his weeks usually do. He’s called four times to handle villain attacks, each one ending a little less destructive than the last, and Thursday is when he sees you on TV again, smiling brightly on a different talk show in the same time slot you were in on Monday.

He keeps the TV muted, uninterested in what you have to say about the people he saved this week, but he watches your mouth move silently. His eyes narrow every time your tongue darts out, the tip of it wetting your bottom lip and his freckled cheeks heat when your lips twist into that winning smile.

That damned smile.

This man has made bringing smiles to faces his entire personality since the day he zipped up his prototype suit years ago, vowing on that day to work as hard as he could no matter how bleak things seemed. It worked and it’s what he’s known for, joy and hope and safety the things he strives for the most.

Watching you smile while calling his character into question makes him simultaneously furious and hard again and he has to cross his legs and imagine those same exploding buildings when you press your lips together on the screen in front of him.

A knock on the office door captures his attention and his assistant opens the door, clipboard in hand.

“You have a tux fitting for tomorrow.”

Reaching for the remote he turns his TV off and rises with a nod. Everyone knows you have to look your very best for your biggest battles and he has no intention of showing up to meet you face to face looking like anything less than a magazine cover.

He just never imagined you’d do the same yet here you stand, 8 pm on Friday night, draped in dazzling gold silk that hugs every inch of your body. You’re taller than he expected, one long leg jutting from the slit in your dress and elegant neck draped in simple jewelry.

You’re beautiful in a way that TV did little to capture and the arrogant man finds himself speechless when you hold out your hand in his direction, grinning at him. He searches for hidden fangs and finds none, just perfect pretty teeth.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier this week, this organization is my passion and it gets the best of me sometimes.”

Your words catch him off guard so he just nods and shakes your hand. If you notice his sweaty palm you keep it to yourself and he internally chides himself for his nerves. He is the fucking number one hero, his face is plastered on every single corner of Japan, and he needs to remember that.

“Hey, we all have bad days. I’m just glad to be here to shed some light on a small cause.”

Your smile dims and his widens, your palm quickly leaving his. Heat simmers in your core and you feel disgusted by your own desire. Sure, he’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen - all big muscles that his tuxedo does little to hide and pretty green waves falling over his face but he’s also the biggest asshole you’ve had the unfortunate luck of meeting.

Drawing your hands close to your body, you fight the urge to petulantly fold your arms over your chest, and he digs in his pocket to produce the check he promised. He holds it out in your direction and you pluck it from his hand, eyes widening when you notice that the amount written on the check is far larger than the five million yen previously discussed.

“Doubled your donation. Very kind of you, Deku.”

He smirks and you feel warm again, cheeks heating in perfect time with your core. Perhaps it’s the glass of champagne you downed an hour ago to calm your nerves or the low lighting of the event space but he is undeniably attractive and you are undeniably attracted to him.

A terrible realization to come to while face to face with a man you called a liar and a fraud four short days ago.

Izuku enters your space and crowds around you, dipping his head low enough that his mouth is just above your ear. He’s bigger than you expected, an entire head taller than you, and you feel overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne and the way he carries himself. He has the demeanor of a man who knows he’s the shit and as much as it aggravates you, it thrills you too, the same heat lashing through your stomach with every flutter of his long lashes.

“Call me an optimist but I think we can still salvage a friendship out of this situation.”

You laugh, shaking your head and clutching the check he provided to your chest.

“There’s an after party starting soon if you don’t have more buildings to go destroy. I’m sure the rest of the VOHSV team would love to thank you personally for your generous donation.”

The hero presses his lips together and raises his brow, blazing green eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is so thick that even the most unaware onlooker would feel it but the room is relatively empty and you’re grateful for it.

“Maybe I only want one person to thank me for my donation.”

Raising a brow to match his, you purse your lips and quickly consider your options. You could give in to the undeniable attraction, a sordid affair with a man you seek to change as part of your life’s work couldn’t possibly be good for optics if you were to be exposed. You could walk away and publicly embarrass him but that doesn’t sound like fun either so you do what you do best - think on your feet and hide your true intentions behind big doe eyes and a winning smile.

“There’s a powder room down that hall, last door on the right,” you motion to a corridor to your left and his eyes follow your movements. “Be there in ten minutes.”

Izuku nods, moving enough to allow you to slip past him and he watches the way your dress shifts across your ass with each step you take away from him. He isn’t going to bother to be polite anymore knowing what is coming next, his mouth watering at the mere thought of watching that pretty little dress drop to the ground below both of your feet while he uncovers the treasure beneath it.

His half hard cock presses against the zipper of his tuxedo pants and he doesn’t bother to adjust himself, taking a shortcut that keeps him against the wall and away from prying eyes to the hallway you instructed him to follow. Each step makes his cock throb and he groans when he reaches for the door handle, wondering what he’ll find when he opens it.

Twisting the handle, he chuckles humorlessly when his eyes fall upon an empty powder room. A large mirror framed by lights with a small sink and counter in front of it are all he finds and he shakes his head, eyes falling upon a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter.

Flicking the paper open with his thumb and index finger, he frowns at the words he reads first.

Better luck next time.

Followed by your name signed in delicate penmanship he traces the tip of his thumb over. The ink is still wet and it smears, his thumb marked with black. His eyes trail further down the note and spot your number below your name, the ink the digits were written in still shining.

At least you leaving your number tells him there will certainly be a next time.

#deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #kendall writes

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bowsellie · 6 months

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vampire

"oh what a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked up little thrill"

warnings: smut (as always), vampire!ellie and related content (blood, biting, death), references to canon compliant major character death, depictions of grief including weight loss and depression, Jackson!au, no use of y/n, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), strap-on usage (r!receiving), strap is referred to as Ellie's cock, period sex, pet names (good girl, baby, etc.), continued consent :)

Ellie Williams had been acting different lately.

You had expected it, really, since the unexpected death of her on-again-off-again father figure, Joel. In fact, most of her behavior was along the lines of what you expected from somebody grieving. Talking to people less, weight loss, odd waking hours...but something about it was different.

This was what you were considering when you looked out your window to see Ellie pacing down the street, a nightly tradition she'd picked up in the weeks since Joel's funeral. You felt comfortable staring more than usual, knowing you weren't visible inside the dark of your living room. Only the candle flickering in your window gave any indication that you were awake, and she didn't seem particularly focused on your window out of all the others on the street.

There was a time she would have been, though. Just a few weeks ago, Ellie's presence on your street would have been shortly followed by heavy breathing, sweat, and moans in your bed. Obviously, you'd been giving her space, but...it seems everyone else had, too. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen Ellie have a conversation with somebody.

Something between genuine concern and a selfish need to be the one to check on her boiled in your gut. Maybe this is why you opened the door and called out, or maybe it was something in your bones saying tonight would be important. Either way, you found yourself repeating her name on your doorstep, watching as she turned her head.

"Come inside Ellie, it's freezing out here! Just for a little bit?" you asked, almost pleading. You should've grabbed a blanket or something--snow was collecting in your hair and eyebrows as Ellie moved eerily slowly towards your house. What if it wasn't Ellie? What if it was.... You shook of the thought. Of course it was Ellie.

After entirely too long, she stood on your steps and allowed herself to be ushered in through your door. The uncanniness had worn off as she stepped into your house, smiling reservedly and thanking you as you made her a cup of hot chocolate.

"You're not even wearing a coat, Ellie. You've gotta take care of yourself," you scolded gently, wrapping her in a blanket. Your fingertips brushed her neck, and the skin was ice cold.

"I've been freezing no matter what I do lately. No use," she explained.

"Are you still on leave from chores? I haven't seen you around lately."

"Yeah, they said I can come back whenever but I've been sleeping through the days still. I wish I could just snap out of it."

As she spoke, you examined her face. New lines had formed as the skin had sunken in, veins visible around her eyes. There was almost no color in the tips of her fingers, and despite the snow refusing to melt from her hair and lashes, she wasn't shivering. Odd.

You moved a little closer to her on the couch, kicking up your feet to get comfortable. "Well, I'm not going to give you the I'm-here-for-you spiel that I'm sure you're sick of getting. I know we weren't like...every day friends either. But I'm an insomniac, too. So if you need to be out and about at night, feel free to come here."

She met your eyes. "I probably shouldn't do that."

"Why not?" you asked, leaning forward to hear her voice better. It was like something shifted in her with this movement, like you had broken an invisible barrier. Ellie leaned forward so your noses were barely touching, and she breathed in slowly.

"I've just been feeling...off lately. I can't explain why. But when I think about you, or anyone really, I just want to...bite them."

You leaned back and giggled. "Glad to see you're feeling well enough to fuck with me, I guess. But really, the offer stands."

This didn't seem to land, though. Ellie leaned over, putting one hand on either side of your body, and smiled. Your eyes drifted to her lips, looking quickly away when you convinced yourself her teeth looked longer than normal.

"I'm not fucking with you. Test me, though. See how long I can go without sinking my teeth into you."

And who were you to deny Ellie Williams? She was as hot as ever, and maybe someone warm to lay with was exactly what she needed. So you leaned forward and captured her lips in a messy kiss, which she quickly took over. The clashing of tongues and lips was interrupted occasionally by the scrape of teeth, something unusual for her usually soft mouth.

Ellie shifted so her whole weight was on top of you, one leg next to your waist and one between your thighs. She pushed forward slightly, causing you to moan into her mouth. She took the opportunity to capture your bottom lip and

"Fuck!"

You pulled away, wiping your lip and looking down to see bright red blood. You expected the nervousness in Ellie to pop up, quickly apologizing, but when you met her eyes she only looked more hungry.

"I told you," she said, reaching out a thumb to wipe the last bit of blood from your mouth. She popped it into her mouth, her tongue peeking out as she licked it clean. "Whatever happens tonight might be irreversible for you. It's up to you, baby."

Whatever fear should have arisen at her words went straight to your pussy. Maybe something had broken in you, but the sight of her licking your blood of her finger was suddenly the hottest thing you've ever experienced. So you nodded hastily and shoved your mouth against hers.

Ellie's hands started to roam, groping your tits and pulling them out of the spaghetti strap you were. She kissed her way down your neck, popping a pebbled nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. You moaned at the sensation, pressing the ache between your legs harder into her thigh and arching your back into the wetness of her mouth. Ellie scraped her teeth over the nipple, pulling gently before letting go and leaving hickeys towards the other side. Giving it the same treatment, she began to snake her hand down your stomach and hips. As curious fingers reached the hem of your sweatpants, you tugged her hair to pull her away from your chest.

"I'm on my period, if you mind. I totally understand if you do, but..." you began explaining, trailing off as the hungry look in her eyes returned.

Before she could confirm or deny her continued interest, Ellie was pulling your bottom half free of the pajamas and panties you had been wearing. Pushing them aside, she spread your legs and dove into your pussy.

Ellie ate you out ferociously, tongue in so many places you could barely keep up. Your mind went blank as she overwhelmed your senses, hands tangling in her hair. One hand reached towards your still exposed tit, grabbing like a lifeline, while one moved down towards your hole. She pulled back as she inserted two fingers at once, watching as you threw your head back with a scream.

"That's it, good girl. Taking me so well. You taste incredible like this."

Dried blood smeared from the side of her mouth, but she returned to suck your clit before you could point it out. The stretch of your cunt being worked up combined with the pressure on your clit quickly cannonballed into one of the strongest orgasms you had ever had, ending only after Ellie pulled away and removed her fingers.

She reached her clean hand up to you and pulled you off the couch on to shaky legs. "If you're going to get my cock, I want you to take it in your bed. Got it?" she asked, leading you down the hallway to your room. Already fucked out, you could only nod and mumble a barely coherent "mm-hm".

Within falling distance, Ellie pushed you on to your bed and crawled between your legs, grinding the bulge beneath her pants into you. Already sensitive, your legs began to close and shake around her. As your arched backed and your moans stuttered, she pulled away before you could cum again.

"Not so fast, baby," she whispered, tucking a strand of her behind your ear in an oddly gentle gesture. You leaned your face towards it, vaguely registering that her hand was just as cold as before. Before you had time to contemplate, however, your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of silicone rubbing between your lips. Pressing in slowly, little by little, Ellie leaned over and began panting in your ear.

Leaving kisses with each thrust, she nipped and licked from your ear down your jaw to the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Fucking you hard, you asked her to repeat herself when her strained voice asked "can I bite you?"

Why would she asked that? Hadn't she done it before, didn't she know? Your stomach twisted--excitement, nervousness, confusion. What was different this time.

"Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"You can't go back," she explained, more and more desperate as her thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. You knew she was getting close, and the pressure against your already sensitive clit was getting to you. "You can't go...fuck, baby. Please. Please."

"Yes, fuck, yes. Bite me, Ellie. Bite me please." You begged, both of your moans reaching a louder volume than before.

You felt her teeth, sharper than usual, against your skin. Her tongue darting out to lick the salty sweat. A pressure, a release, an orgasm as your skin broke.

You and Ellie screamed in unison, dual orgasms wracking your bodies as she clung to your neck.

And then, you felt nothing.

Nothing but cold and thirst.

#Ellie williams #Ellie x reader #Ellie williams x reader #Ellie smut #Ellie williams smut #vampire smut #vampire x reader #vampire!ellie #wlw vampire

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currentfandomkick · 9 months

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Fan concept to incorporate however you want:

In comics i’m pretty sure there’s a lazarus pit in the batcave, and others in gotham. A high concentration of lazarus water per square foot. Add to that gotham’s various contaminated waters from various toxins and gases on top of usual run offs, and there’s a high chance everyone in gotham is contaminated by all of this.

Add in the popular head cannons and partial fanon of lazarus water = (in some form) contaminated or corrupted watery ectoplasm.

And if we go ecto contaminated enough = liminal…

Then gotham city is full of liminals, the most notorious being a handful revenants with questionable cores (Solomon Grundy and Red Hood off the top of my head), with Damian’s Robin a liminal bordering on halfa if you go the ‘raised next to and put in the Pitts’ route.

Hell if you want, most of the Batfam can be partially ecto contaminated if not liminal (minus Duke, i feel like he’s the only starting to) but no one notices because its gradual and they assume its side effects from the 10,000 + polluntants in gotham.

You can have anyone from Amity Park enter Gotham and go ‘huh, edgy aesthetic Amity.’ Then go ‘oh, sick liminal… which dork back home knows how to fix this?’

If you want Tucker can be sending Sam updates on Gotham’s liminals (including Rogues) which Sam is helping the ecto terrorist (League of Assassins in a lot of older portrayals) and Danny vibing working for (DC bigshot or group of your choice) as an engineer who says he’s bad at coding when no one has broken his code yet as ‘its standard back home’ and baffles his employer

Dani can see Gotham and just. Vibe as a feral child who tries to help the other sick liminals with mixed results. I say let Harley snag her as her sidekick during her anti-villian days.

Jazz can be attending university and has to explain drinking filtered ecto to her dorm, only for a lot of them to start managing things better emotionally and combat wise, but now have the urge to Kick Ass as a way to Make Friends. Batfam investigate her a s a cult leader when really all she’s doing is using a clean ecto filter and teaching her classmates to do the same. Even teaches them how to make them thanks to Danny breaking down his rigs to her and leaving her repair instructions in case hers breaks early.

If you go baby Ghost King Danny, he can find out about Gotham and do a ‘oh, a fucked up version of Amity Park. Neat!’ see the Joker and go ‘Fuck this guy,’ and appear by pulling Joker into the ghost realm for his trial with a note that reads “sorry for missing another Liminal City. I’ll do better as king and handle those breaking Ghost Ettiquette myself. My bad. Still new to the ‘King of the Infinite Realms and all bonded to it. So liminals fall in, didn’t think there were more besides Amity. A branch of the Council of Observers will be sent to evaluate which liminals are sick, which are dealing with unsustainable or harmful obsessions, which liminals need relocation to handle their obsession in a better suited environment, and which ones are uneducated on liminal health.

Don’t worry, I stole some time to make sure i did all the paperwork before taking this guy. He’s the type of ecto entity who consumes attention, fear, and souls, which is Pretty Bad and that last one is an auto-execution. So i should manage the normal ‘visiting of the realms and introduction to’ spiel after we can make sure you won’t be in danger from ghosts that forget mortals dont shrug off being dropped off a few cliffs and having a two ton rock dropped on them. I may send some ambassadors from Amity to help you adjust since it was a pain for us too. Fyi if anyone tries summoning the Ghost King and expects Pariah, i win by conquest ten years ago and only JUST got to looking into liminal areas. With cheating by stealing time. If you have any questions, look up the Manson family, Amity Park, Ohio. Sam can explain better than me, and her parents somehow ended up on the mortal side counsel.

#dpxdc #long post #dp x dc #danny phantom #gotham is limina #liminal gotham #fic prompt

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glassbxttless · 1 year

Text

L&D Baby

Nurse!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: Steve and his wife are having their first baby— and it happens to be at the hospital he works at.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: 18+ (editing to add: no sexual themes, but I am literally an adult and do not want minors interacting with my content whatsoever), marriage, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of a stillbirth, dad!steve, labor and delivery nurse!steve, blood/blood loss, swearing— as always let me know if there’s any tags i missed!

Notes: This is posted over on my ST blog ( @hellfirestxnes ). Once all of my content is moved over here— that blog will be inactive as my main objective is to have one space for myself!

Steve is tired. His bones are aching and his eyes are sore, but it’s just another Friday really. He has about half of his shift left and he’s off again, thankfully, until Monday. Leaning on the counter at the nurses station, listening to the other nurses gossip and share stories about their kids. And he’s thinking about you at home, sitting pretty and waiting for him to come home— belly swollen with his child. Any other day, he might tuck himself away and use the phone to call and check in, but today… he couldn’t face it. The first delivery he was on that morning, he watched a new mother wish with every fiber of her being that what the doctor was telling her wasn’t true. He cleaned up that baby, took their weight and height, made out the card for the parents that would never get to hear a cry. He bundled up gray, cold skin and hoped that the couple would be able to find peace. Somewhere deep down, he wishes he wouldn’t have heard them ask how did this happen? Everything was just fine this morning. But, now here he sits. Thinking about that delivery, thinking about his wife at home. His very pregnant wife. Your pregnancy has gone by so quickly, been such a breeze. He’s been to as many appointments as he could, especially the ones you were so worried about. But there’s always a reassuring answer of your baby being strong and healthy. A perfect little Harrington. And now, Steve’s never found himself more terrified. If everything can be fine and perfect one second and terribly tragic the next, he doesn’t know where to find his peace. He hangs his head against his hands for a few moments— taking a deep breath. He’s gotta get himself straight, take a few moments. But there’s hellos being exchanged a few feet away and after what seems like a millisecond, a hand is settling on his lower back. He snaps around, prepared to give the whole I’m married spiel he’s done a thousand times, he’s met with the beautiful eyes of his adoring wife. And that softens his features, he’s visibly relaxing.

You smile at him, as he tugs you into his grip. The hug lasts longer than usual and Steve loves hugging you. You rub his back and kiss his shoulder, “you forgot your lunch.” You whisper to him quietly, the bag in your left hand adorning a beautiful band that Steve had so carefully picked out himself. At your words, Steve’s grip just tightens a bit and he kisses your head, sighing out. “Do you wanna eat together?”

“Yeah, angel. Just about to take my break. come on.” he says quietly, leading you down to the cafeteria. He pulls out your chair and you can tell something is distracting him as he sits. He’s busying himself by passing out the food, but he’s quiet and normally— he isn’t. He asks about your day, tells you about his, has told you he loves you a dozen times by now. And he knows you’ve noticed, by the way his eyes flick up to yours and back down again. “I’m okay.” he says after catching the look on your face.

“You’re not.” you reply, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on, Steve? Can talk to me.” you reach over for his hand, thumb brushing over his own gold wedding band. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Steve sighs heavily, flipping his hand over to take yours gently. “The first birth I was on this morning was a stillbirth and I dunno… just had me thinking a lot.” He explains, his eyes dropping down to your belly across the table. You nod slightly, the hand that wasn’t entwined in his moves to your belly. You’re almost due and neither you nor Steve have ever had to worry about this. Never had it been a thought in your head.

“Just want you guys safe, is all.” Steve says softly and gives your hand a squeeze before he’s pulling it away to eat his lunch with you. And when it’s time for him to get back to work, you stand. There’s a dull ache that starts in your back and wraps around to your tummy, it lasts about 30 seconds as you clean up from lunch. You ignore it as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll see you at home, okay? Take it easy, rest.” He reminds you, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Yeah, okay.” You acknowledge him with a nod, before you feel another aching pain. But this time it’s accompanied by a slow trickle of fluid down your thighs. And when Steve notices where your eyes are falling, all of the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

“Oh.” Is all he can manage. He’s done this a thousand and ten times over the past few years. He’s consoled laboring mothers, he’s held their hands and cleaned them up, he’s been their support system. It’s his job. But here he is, with his own wife, frozen in his tracks. Your water broke and he can tell with the uncomfortable face you’re making the contractions have started as well. “Okay, angel… let’s… let’s get you checked in.” he says softly and suddenly, you’re more than thankful for the pre-registry packet Steve made you fill out last week. He holds your hand the entire time they check you in and get you into a room. He can hear his pager going off and he’d check it, every now and again, hoping one of the other nurses could pick up his patients, since he still technically was on his shift. But when he can’t put it off any longer, he kisses your head. “Listen, I’ll be right back okay? I’m not leaving you alone for this. I’ll be really quick.” he says softly.

You just nod, munching on the ice chips he had brought you not too long ago. You still feel like you have time. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. But Steve would throw a fit if they even tried to send you home and you know it. Steve smiles nervously when he wheels a cart into another expectant parent’s room. He introduces himself and shakes her husband’s hand when he extends it to him introducing themselves as, “Caleb and Connie Bear.” He's trying to keep the small talk up and keep himself calm— and not to think of his wife four rooms down. “Is this your first?” he asks softly, administering her medication.

“Oh no.” Connie laughs softly and shakes her head, “It’s baby number seven.” She pats her belly gently. Steve nods, a little lost in his own head. A mix of thoughts of the young couple a floor up with no baby to show, his wife laboring without him, and these friendly people working on their seventh baby. “It’s not as bad as you think.” she laughs, catching Steve’s face.

Steve laughs nervously and shakes his head, “oh no. it’s not that.” He smiles softly, “my wife and I wanted around six.” He shrugs, giving her a glass of water.

“You’ve got kids?” She smiles at him and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze as he adjusts her monitors. “You’re so young.”

“Uh… not yet.” He laughs softly and pulls her blanket back up over her. “My wife’s in labor now, actually. Not very far along yet and It’s our first, might have a while to go.” He rambled off nervously.

She smiles at him, a warm and comforting smile, and so does her husband. They remember those days. And Steve does find comfort in that smile. “These things take time.” She says softly, nodding at Steve. “but she’ll know what to do and I know you’ve seen a lot of babies being born but the minute you see yours, everything’s gonna change.” And Steve knows she’s right.

“Thank you.” he says softly. “I’ll be back in to check on you in a little while.” he dims her lights a bit, sighing softly as he steps out of the room and walks over to his station to chart his notes quickly. When he looks up and sees his mother-in-law, that’s when his panic starts to set in. He’s hurrying around the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/N called asking me to come, Steve.” She laughs, a sound that reminds him of you. “She knows you’re busy.” She gives his arm a pat and smiles at him. “She’s getting close, from what they’ve told her.”

“And she didn’t say anything to me?” Steve frowns, leading her over to your room. His face is knotted up in confusion when he looks over you. Your feet are planted on the floor, leaning over your bed. He sighs softly, knowing he should have been in here. He walks over, standing behind you to rub circles into your lower back.

“This is how we got into this situation.” You joke, face pressed against your sheets.

The response makes Steve chuckle, rolling his eyes, “oh hush. your mother is here.” He mumbles softly, rubbing your hips gently. “Where did they say you’re at, angel?” he asks softly.

“Eight.” You mumble back, letting yourself melt into Steve’s hands. They slide around to your belly, lifting gently and trying to keep the pressure off of your back in between contractions. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” You ask him, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. You can see the worry etched into his features. But once he sees the way your hair is sticking to your forehead and how flushed and clammy your skin is— he softens.

“A girl.” He says softly. “Gonna be just as pretty as you.” He whispers softly, helping you switch positions and lie back on the bed quietly. Steve’s head perks up as he sees one of his co-workers take a quick peek in. “What’s up?” he mouths over to her. He watches her point down to her belt, signaling to the pager Steve has forgotten.

He sighs and kisses your head once more, rubbing soothing circles onto your arm. “I’ll be right back again, okay sweetheart? Your mama’s here. gonna take care of you while I’m gone.” He says softly and squeezes your hand before he’s ducking out and heading down to the Bear’s room, pushing the cot along quietly.

Connie smiles tiredly, having opted for an epidural at the last stage of her labor. Steve’s ready at her thighs, ready to pop the baby up onto her chest. His own head is occupied with the thought of missing the birth of his own child while he welcomes another into the world. His shift would be over soon and then he’ll be sitting at your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you healthy and happy. Supporting you throughout the entire transition of your labor. Caleb rubs soothing circles on Connie’s arm as she pushes, and Steve takes note of the love in the room. How much the two of them lean on one another.

And Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when he’s reaching over her thighs, with their newborn boy laying on her stomach. He’s helping rub the baby dry, eyes flicking up to the delivering doctor when no one hears any cries for just a few more moments. And Steve whispers, panicked, but full of hope, “oh come on, kid.” No one hears him, but Connie— and her eyes are on him as Steve tries his fucking best to coax a cry out of the baby. Even after suctioning his nose and mouth. He remembers the heartbroken looks on that young couple this morning and he couldn’t take it again.

And finally there’s a sigh of relief when the little one lets out their first big wail. Steve smiles watching as Connie holds their baby to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. She gives Steve’s hand a squeeze, her face silently thanking him. And then as he’s walking away to fill out a stats card for their baby, Steve hears his name followed by someone shouting time to push. And he’s running. He’ll check back in later, but he’s not missing his baby’s birth. You’ve got the rails of the bed in your hands, gripping tightly as you push— and he’s finding your side and brushing back your hair. “I'm here, angel.” He’s whispering through your tears. “I’m here. Look at you. You’re doing so good, mama.”

And it’s a whole new feeling when Steve hears a cry before he even sees the baby. He can see the blood on your thighs as they lift the baby up to place against your chest. The tears in your eyes are falling as you look up at Steve. And he just presses a kiss against your forehead, sniffling back his own years. “You did it, angel.” he mumbles softly.

“Congratulations.” You hear through your OB’s big smile. “It’s a boy.” And then Steve laughs, his smile pressed against your hair.

“It's a boy.” you repeat, fingers brushing against the back of your baby's fresh soft skin. The quiet grunts coming from him fill the room as he roots around trying to latch onto your breast quietly. “Joseph.” You whisper and turn to look up at Steve, remembering the perfect name the two of you had spent the last eight months curating. “Joseph Steven Harrington.” You announce to your mother quietly. And Steve feels himself tear up a bit.

Nothing has ever felt like this before in his life. And once you’re squared away, he makes sure to thank his coworkers quietly. Appreciating every second of them covering his ass tonight. They all congratulate him for the beautiful baby, passing out hugs and offering advice. And Steve soaks it in, every single word of it. Soaks it in like his life depends on it.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt

#steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington #steve x pregnant!reader #dad!steve harrington #nurse!steve #cw: pregnancy #cw: birth #cw: stillbirth mention

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

AITA for saying I don't give a shit about calorie counts?

Before I even start this, I'm going to say - if you actively have an eating disorder, please don't vote on this one. I used to have one and I know how badly ED screws with your reasoning regarding weight and food, even with other people. Onto the dilemma.

I (22M) and my friend (31F) are both on "diets" - in quotes because its a lifestyle change, but idk about her. I've drastically changed my diet, exercise, and general lifestyle for health reasons.

My friend also wanted to start dieting at the same time, and as far as I know, she just wants to lose weight. She has a healthy weight goal in mind and her methods of losing weight are healthy, basically the same as me - better foods and more exercise. Recently we talked about our goals because we both lost several pounds, and she asked me what my goal weight was. I told her I didn't have one, I might later but right now my only focus is making sure my body is in good health. She seemed to agree and the conversation moved on.

Another thing is, I recently learned that I LOVE to cook. I've been adding more veggies and spices into my diet as well - swapping french fries with marinated air-fried carrots, veggie dumplings, shredding cabbage for noodles, making my own stir fry sauce and blends, etc.

I cook for us sometimes, because I often make more than I need and I want to share my cooking with others. But she keeps asking my how many calories are in stuff. I tell her what's in the recipe and how it's made, but I honestly have no clue how many calories are in anything I make. I can tell her pretty much anything else, like it's rich in whatever vitamin, it's low cholesterol, it's a great source of iron, I used healthier alternative instead of whatever... but that's not the info she's looking for. And since a lot of my cooking is experimental, I can't look it up online. I've never noticed this to be an issue before, but I'm a bit clueless so it's possible she showed signs of being bothered by this and I just didn't notice.

It all came to a head the other day when we had dinner after our usual workout. I was charting the exercises I did that day. She asked me if I was tracking calories for the meal and started talking about her calorie tracker app. I listened to her spiel about empty calories and tracking food. When she asked if I was going to downloaded it, I laughed and said "I don't give two shits about counting calories. As long as the food is good for me I don't care." I said it light-hearted and joking bc I don't want her to think it's bad to count calories - it's just not what I'm going to do. But she got quiet and later texted me that it hurts. I explained that she can count calories if she wants, and I don't care if she does or doesn't, but it's not for me. She doesn't know about my eating disorder history and I'd rather not tell her, since that's another reason I don't count calories - I don't want to fall back on starving myself since I KNOW that's not healthy, so it's easier for me to just exclude calories from the picture entirely. Should I tell her why I don't count calories? Could I have told her that I don't care about calories in a nicer way? AITA?

Also, before anyone suggests it - she does NOT have an eating disorder. Idk why she counts calories, but she shares a lot about her life with me, and she eats plenty and eats well, and doesn't exercise excessively, just enough to stay healthy for what she wants to do.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #eating disorder cw

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grogusmum · 4 months

Note

Hey Lovely Hazel! 🖤

Happy Saturday evening to you and sending lots of love your way!

I'm here to challenge you with Pedro Boy ficlet, let's see now... let's go for Dieter!

He's excited!

Love you! 🖤

Thank you my darling Jett! I hope you are having a good Saturday! 💚

Okay, this is connected to another lil 300-word doodad I wrote soon after The Bubble came out.

I got carried away, I had some of this worked out before, so a 300-500 word thing turned into 1300 oops!

Dieter was excited. He was trying to keep his cool, but it had been weeks since he had seen his sweet pea! But this time, he notices someone else... you.

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Anika looks up expectantly.

“Do you have the number for the therapy animal people?”

In his suite, Dieter looks around at the mess, turning a circle at the center of the room. The paint, the drugs, wine and liquor bottles, his clothes, KitKat wrappers. The only area clean is the space set aside for his fitness mirror, which he looks at sheepishly, then throws a towel over it.

Pressing his lips together as he makes his decision, he gets to work. He cleans up the most offending messes, then calls housekeeping for new sheets and towels, and a bathroom clean up and vacuuming, before heading back to the lobby to meet with the goat lady.

Dieter had called right away, and asked about Skipper, and if he could book another session with him. The woman he spoke with was very kind. She was the main trainer and creator of the therapy program, she explained it ran out of a larger farm owned by her family. She wished aloud that he could come to the farm, he would get an earlier slot… Dieter told her he would happily pay any fee for expediting his session. She relented, telling him she remembered how he connected with Skipper and she thought he could miss the next group and go to visit Dieter. She would bring him herself.

You drive your jeep since it's just one small animal, Skipper bleats quietly back in his crate. Thinking back to the day at the hotel, Dieter's reaction to the baby goat was not entirely unusual, especially these days. But you felt for him, it seemed like he was releasing a lot. So you weren't surprised to get his call. He had offered an exorbitant amount of money, but you told him you'd gladly accept an additional fee, but that his offer was far too much. You thought, sure it's a business and it has to keep making money but it is for helping people. And he seemed to need it.

Before you know it you are on the grounds, at the gate you show your credentials, get the Covid rapid test, and the safety protocols spiel. You park, pull a large duffle out of the backseat, and put Skipper on a leash. You let him relieve himself, then put a water bowl down so he can have a drink before getting to work.

You look up at the front doors and you see Dieter watching, his body language tells you he is excited but trying to be patient.

Skipper finishes his water break and you start up the gravel drive toward him.

Dieter has been practicing his spiel to convince you to sell Skipper to him. He doesn't know if he's going to pull the trigger on it, but he wants to be ready.

You put on your mask and approached the actor.

"Mr Bravo, nice to see you again."

"Hey, uh, hi," Dieter says looking a little needy.

You don't usually do this, but since its one on one, you hand him the leash.

Dieter lights up like a Christmas tree, so different from the first time. He starts talking to Skipper as the three of you walk to the side lawn-

"Hey Sweet Pea! I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you."

He gets ahead of you so you can't quite make out all he says. But it's animated and happy.

Skipper was still determining where he was going but he likes to be with you, so having you on his own was exciting. When he was taken out of the jeep he recognized where he was a little. The smell, the cobblestones. He saw you look toward the big building so he looked to… was that the Fluffy Guy?

It was. Well, he needs all the help he can get from what Skipper could see.

The goat looked from you to Dieter as you passed the leash to him.

Is this wise, mama? he thought.

"...I've missed you."

It's okay, guy. I'm here, what are we doing today?

"I really want to adopt you… but I don't know if the therapy woman will let me."

This is nothing new, pal. Everyone wants to adopt me…

Skipper bleats up at Dieter and Dieter is beside himself. He sits down on the grass and starts to pet Skipper's flank. You soon catch up and sit down with him. When you've both settled, Skipper climbs onto Dieter's lap. The man's eyebrows lift and his mouth is a small "o". Then his eyes get wet. As Dieter tries to pull himself together, you put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to go over and sit on the patio. Mr. Bravo, you be you, talk to Skip, and if you want to cry, cry. This is what he is here for."

Dieter gives a grateful nod and hugs Skipper, the goat bleats happily.

"Would you want to live with me?" Dieter wonders. "No, why would you… fffu- sorry Sweet Pea, I shouldn't curse. I just, it's only-"

Dieter growls in frustration. Skipper bleats and twists his head to see him.

You watch from the patio, Dieter's body language has changed, so you stand.

“Mr Bravo, is everything alright?”

Dieter lets out a breath, continuing to scratch the kid’s rump.

“I want to buy Swe- ah Skipper. I’ve really never- I don’t know I just- I will pay you anything!”

“Mr Brav-”

“Dieter, please, call me Deiter.”

“Dieter”, you say gently, putting an equally gentle hand on his arm. “I am not going to sell you Skipper, I’m very sorry.”

His crest-fallen face pulled at your heart.

“Okay let's do this-” You open your duffle bag and pull out two yoga mats. “Do you do any yoga, Mist- I mean Dieter?”

Dieter shrugs, his pout makes you smirk, a man who is used to getting what he wants if he throws enough money at it, but he does stand and assume a stance with his legs shoulders width apart. Skipper knows the drill, he did the moment you unfurled the mats- he loves goat yoga!

Soon enough Dieter is giggling as Skipper insinuates himself in all of Dieter's poses. But far from getting in Dieter's way or anything, Skipper finds where he needs to balance, and its not unlike getting a massage at the same time, as Skipper’s hooves dig into knots. But Dieter was starting to be taken by you as well, your quiet praise, and with a completely unnecessary request for permission to touch him, some hands-on adjustments to some of his poses. Soft and warm but also assertive, you touched his hips shoulders, and back with assured purpose.

After some water and downtime, Dieter paints with Skipper in his lap, and finally, you hand him a stiff bristle brush to groom Skipper with.

Yes, fluffy Guy! My favorite!! Now just let me nibble your fluff and we are golden.

Dieter brushes the little goat and you and he chat idly.

Dieter feels fantastic, but sad, as you leash Skipper and hoist your bag over your shoulder. You decline when Dieter offers to take it and hand him the lease. His boyish grin gives you a little jolt of something, you aren't quite sure about. He’s handsome, and you truly enjoyed your time with him today, but you’ve seen the articles - he is a walking Hollywood disaster story… but-

He reluctantly hands you the lease as you come to the jeep.

“Thank you,” his voice is low and quiet, “That was- that was amazing.”

“You and Skip did some great work together.”

“You were great too.”

Why is heat rising in your cheeks? Skipper looks up curiously at you and if goats could smirk, he would.

“Thank you.”

“How much would it cost to convince you to come once a week?”

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

thanks for this ask, Jett! It kind of kicked my butt in gear to get this little thing out of my WIPs, for good or bad. lol 💚

#slumber party saturday #dieter and skipper the goat #dieter bravo #dieter x you

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possessionisamyth · 6 months

Text

okay, hi, im back extremely briefly but just hear me out this time!!!

So pre-time skip Sanji goes up to Usopp and asks the age old question "how did you know you were trans?" At first, Usopp's hackles go up for a split second. She hasnt been able to physically transition anything, just socially, and it's hard enough getting anyone outside her crew to believe her. Therefore, this does rub her the wrong way until she recognizes Sanji's tone as being genuine and not condescending. She notices the hesitancy in his posture and the concern in his eyes before she takes up her usual role of lightening the mood.

Usopp explains how it's kinda funny actually. That Ninjin from her village had a pet cat who absolutely hated all men except for Usopp. At the time, Usopp bragged about being one of the world's greatest animal tamers, but it was the hint she needed to start really looking at herself. Sanji interrupts with a hand on his chin in thought and says something like "okay, yeah, animals confirm your gender" and Usopp stops him right there. She then explains that it was actually Luffy's spiel on being themselves and following their dreams that made her take the leap with the social transitioning aspect she struggles with off of Going Merry. She asks Sanji why the question, but Sanji says he's just curious cause he's only really ever run into drag queens and Usopp was far from being the type (even if her wardrobe got a little too silly sometimes). The subject changes to ideas for dinner before Sanji walks off to do his chores. Yet, the conversation sticks in the back of Usopp's mind like a little footnote.

At some point she is able to slowly start physically transitioning, and during this she catches Sanji saying things that are just kind of strange in a familiar way. She doesn't acknowledge it though. She's honestly surprised she notices half the time considering all the other shit they got going on.

Then the group is separated, and Sanji is on drag queen island for a long time. He has a lot of talks with people that make him both extremely uncomfortable, royally pissed off, or terrified and questioning. By the time his tenure on the island starts coming to a close, Sanji faces some very hard truths about how he's treated people and how he's treated himself. So, understandably, when she shows up to meet everyone at Sabaody she's a little nervous. She doesn't let it show though. She was just happy Ivankov's kindness didn't come with a drawback. She also has a little vial for a friend with her cause like, it's easier to skip where you can right?

When she runs into Zoro and he doesn't bat an eye while they get into their angry banter, Sanji starts to relax. Everyone came back different, which means they did what they were supposed to do. Get stronger to take on the new world. She thanks the sea that she isn't attracted to any of the motley men on their ship. It was a real scare with the drag queens that she might find herself pitching for the other team after the transition, but her love for women remained in full force.

This thought occurs the exact moment she sees Usopp. Three words hit Sanji like arrows piercing through her body at the sight of Usopp, which is Strong, Busty, and Beautiful. Usopp's hair was so long now??? Did her smile get even cuter???? Why the hell was she wearing the world's tiniest crop top under those suspenders??!!???

Usopp's eyes light up with something knowing that makes the nervousness return to Sanji in droves. Then Usopp smiles and says "long time no see", and her voice?!!!! Gone is that strange warble from the lingering edge of puberty, and it's been replaced with something smoother right at the bridge between a tenor and an alto in rhythm. Sanji is GONE. She is MELTING. She is BLEEDING ALL OVER HER NICE NAVY SUIT. Oh wow, she's feeling light-headed all of a sudden. She passes out. Wakes up to see she's in Usopp's arms? Passes out. Wakes up to see she's in Usopp's arms? Passes out. Chopper realizes what the hell is happening, and Usopp is switched out for a giggling Luffy. Sanji stays conscious this time.

Fishman Island happens, and things are calmer among their crew as they leave. Well, as calm as they can get for the strawhat pirates. Usopp finally finally gets a chance to corner Sanji in the kitchen because she's excited! Shared experiences and all that jazz. Sanji is both distracted and shy because Usopp is still wearing that tiny crop top that just barely covers her assets as well as showing off her abs AND Sanji didn't think she'd have to keep talking about the transitioning thing. She thought she'd be sort of done unless she ran into someone from her past about it, but she likes listening to Usopp talk about it. While Usopp is talking about all the hurdles on the island she was stuck on, Sanji remembers the little vial she asked for from Ivankov. Sanji asks Usopp to stop mid-story and gives it to her explaining that if she ever wants to just stop taking her shots, she can have Chopper administer that. No pressure obviously. Usopp can do whatever she wants and Sanji will respect her for it.

Usopp is extremely touched by the gesture, and tells Sanji she'll have Chopper hold onto it in case she does want to just go the quick way in the future. They sit in amicable silence for a little while before Usopp narrows her eyes at Sanji and asks "wait, does it change Everything?" Sanji says it does. Usopp pointedly looks down. Sanji hunches forward. Usopp repeats, "Everything?" Sanji now red faced with embarrassment shouts, "YES! EVERYTHING!" Sanji already went through mourning the loss of being about to take a piss anywhere without a second thought before being stabbed with like ten large needles. She was used to squatting now! The bleeding on the other hand...

Usopp sets her chin on Sanji's shoulder, and Sanji looks over in time to catch the smile on her face. She thanks Sanji again, and Sanji sort of nods and hums because there's that nervousness again since Usopp is so beautiful and she's SO CLOSE TO HER. The singular not short-circuiting part of Sanji's brain does speak up as she tells Usopp she's really proud of her. That she feels kind of like she cheated being gone and going the easy route and just being able to step into something Usopp had to work for. That if their roles were switched, Sanji wasn't sure she'd ever feel brave enough to do half the stuff Usopp did to get to where she is.

And that little footnote Usopp kept in the back of her mind for a while pops up right then, so she interrupts Sanji mid-spiel to ask her "how did you know you were trans?" It's a role reversal of a conversation from what felt like so long ago. And Sanji pauses. She's quiet for a little while until she speaks up and says she got a hint for it back in Little Garden. This confuses Usopp, but Sanji continues on and explains how Usopp didn't have any trouble calling herself a girl, and after Brogy and Dorry just accepted it, how happy Usopp looked and how relaxed she was.

Sanji says she wanted that freedom. The freedom to really be herself without any strings attached, and that she envied Usopp but didn't actually understand what the emotion was until much later. To Sanji's chagrin, Usopp pulls away with a hand on her chin in thought and says "okay, yeah, giants affirm your gender". And Sanji stares at her incredulously before Usopp starts giggling. The giggling is contagious. Sanji starts laughing herself, and sure it's nearly 11 at night, but that doesn't matter. There's an understanding here. There's a love here. They'll both be moving forward on the right foot into the future.

But for now, it was time to go bed. Sanji asks if Usopp wants to shower first since she's unsure about the hot water situation. Usopp, as if she's completely forgotten who the fuck she's talking to, says they can just shower together now if Sanji wants to. It's no big deal. Sanji proceeds to start bleeding all over her nice blouse. Usopp promptly freaks out and calls Chopper. There is a long lecture about blood transfusions needing to be SPARINGLY PROVIDED WHEN SOMEONE DOESN'T HAVE A DISEASE. Usopp says they'll figure something out. (They do because the pair start dating around the middle of Punk Hazard).

#one piece #sanuso #black leg sanji #god usopp #trans usopp #trans sanji #op headcanons #THIS WASN'T BRIEF AT ALL IM SORRY I LIED TO YOU

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kindestegg · 1 year

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Analyzing all the differences in the storyboards posted by Yasmin Khudari and the final product! - Part 1: No Collector Edition

Hello everyone!! Today I bring you a different kind of meta post than usual... I'm sure some of you are already aware that Yasmin Khudari who worked on The Owl House has posted quite a lot of storyboards for episodes in season 2B and For the Future as well. I will reblog this post with the link to her site later (as if I believe correctly the issue with posts with external links on them getting shadowbanned still is not fixed).

But for now! Under the cut, I will point out every difference between the storyboards and the final cut and what this could mean! There's a lot of exciting stuff to go through, so much so in fact that I will have to cut this post in half to showcase the Collector related storyboards elsewhere because there is just! So much ground to cover! And the 30 image limit would burst!!! (I know this because I've literally tried.)

(A small side note... I have elected to sometimes to not show picture evidence of things changing because we do have a 30 images limit here and I want to hopefully talk about all the changes!)

Starting with Season 2 Episode 12, Elsewhere and Elsewhen, we have this cute little scene of Lilith cutting some branches out of the way while Luz follows her and does a little twirl. I imagine this was just cut because it wasn't very necessary, but it is cute as hell.

In the final episode, they cut directly to the scene where Lilith is looking at her book showing the Pools of Time entry.

Another subtle difference likely cut for time, Lilith originally would sniff the seaweed brought by her palisman that ended up on Luz's head. In the final episode, this little action is absent.

Something that was not cut but rather added this time! In the storyboards, Lilith only goes "Eh?" when she thinks she failed in finding the time pools, whereas in the final episode, she goes into her whole spiel about how she "triple checked all her calculations, her equipment is first rate". It's possible that while the moments seen before were cut, this was added instead.

There is also another slight divergence in dialogue. In the final episode, Lilith's monologue goes: "Maybe the blood was too dry? Is it not algae blooming season?" Whereas here Lilith wonders if the map was outdated or if the oak was a bit more of a pine before wondering if it's not algae blooming season.

And finally, there is a moment that was also cut from the finale episode where Luz is wowed by the discovery of the prehistoric Boiling Isles, but finds out she can't breathe in there. This would explain why in the final episode she is heard coughing before pulling her head back out.

I do think it's a shame this was cut as it would better explain why she was coughing and would be a neat little nod to the fact the air would have been different in that era of time.

Next, we have another set of boards for Elsewhere and Elsewhen, this time showcasing Luz and Lilith traveling with Philip to the head. I'm excited to get to this one because this has some juicy changes I want to discuss.

And our first change already shows exactly what I mean: there is no mention of The Collector in these boards. Instead, both Luz and Philip are seeking something called "The Song of Stars".

And equally, Luz doesn't refer to it as a "he" who can tell them how to clear the mist, but rather just something that can grant them power.

Is it possible that at the point in time these boards were getting done, the Collector was not yet meant to be a character? Maybe the Song of Stars was rather some kind of powerful spell, something that would grant Philip a power similar to the draining spell.

Smaller detail but just something I thought was cute: In the original boards, Luz did not say "snap snap snap" out loud, so I'm glad that was added in the final cut. It's cute!

But you know what did not make the cut? Philip being a suck up to flatter Luz and Luz being absolutely adorable about it. He calls her crab language "beautiful" and says both her and Lilith are very brave and that they're like warrior princesses, which sure makes Luz happy. Oh, if only her happiness could've lasted.

A blush and happy tears!! My god girl!! I am so sorry your idol turned out to be a douche! You deserved to have kept that happiness!!!

I do have some theories as to why this was cut. Could have been reworked for time, or could have been that they didn't think people may get the reference (this reads like a Xena Warrior Princess one to me at least), or even that it might seem odd for him to have that concept...

I do think the blush here is interesting, we have seen characters in the show blush in contexts that aren't romantic such as when they are embarrassed, looking up to someone or think something is cute. So this isn't too odd, Luz is meeting what at the current time is a big idol for her and he is saying very nice things to her, which would understandably get a strong reaction.

Minor change: Luz goes "what!" in the original storyboards before asking if Philip uses glyphs too. Again, very minor change, but! Cute!!!

Interesting change here: In the original boards, Philip does not comment that it took years for him to find the glyphs and that it was almost as if the world wanted to hide them from him.

Instead, he comments he "didn't realize there was one for light as well".

This is REALLY interesting to me, because it also makes me wonder if the subtle theme of it being ambiguous whether the Titan's consciousness lingered and somehow hid the glyphs from Philip or if he was just that disrespectful and stubborn towards the B.I culture and wildlife that the only way he could rationalize his hardship was through the world being against him... was way less present in an earlier draft of the story.

He also does not comment "a warrior and a scholar, truly impressive" at Luz after she tells him she also found a glyph in a snowflake, just being quiet instead. I think that part may have been added to make more thematic sense with Lilith having a small quiet moment of looking weirded out by Philip's flattery right after.

Another minor detail: Luz also blushes in this storyboard when gushing over teaching Philip the light glyph, but this is absent in the final cut. I wonder if this was done so people wouldn't get the wrong idea, or, rather, if "my idol is so cool" gushing would be considered to be something that wouldn't be worth blushing over.

Another instance of The Collector being replaced by The Song of Stars. I find it funny in a silly way that it's in all caps, makes me think of how RPG games will write important key items or boss characters in all caps.

And that's all for the differences in this episode! But before we move onto the next, I wanted to talk a bit more about the Song of Stars because this all just... fascinates me? Coupled with that one storyboard we have seen from The Owl Beast nightmare that showed what seemed to be three figures instead of one, I wonder if back then they were toying with the idea of the celestial magic opposing earthly magic from the titans and the collectors as a species being the reason why titans are gone, but they didn't think to actually have a collector as a character back then, only have them as some distant threat and adding to the lore. The song of stars could have been some kind of powerful spell or weapon left by then way back when, perhaps even what killed the titans.

Maybe we will know once the series ends and we can ask all about the cut storylines that ended up being discarded in favor of the current one. I certainly want to know!

For, Them's The Breaks, Kid, now, we have one minor dialogue change. Eda adds a "honestly", when she says she thought there'd be more (to her misdeeds). Maybe they took it out because she WASN'T being honest? LMAO.

This is an interesting cut line: In the storyboards, before saying she'll be separated from Lilith, Eda says her parents "will kill her". While we know this is classic Eda hyperbole, I think this is interesting because to me it may have been cut due to the fact that this could be seen as odd when her parents have been shown previously to be pretty understanding... or maybe there is more to the Clawthornes than we think of.

I'm definitely not saying Dell and Gwen would be abusive, fucking hell no, but Gwendolyn has at the very least been pretty overbearing on Eda at times, and has made Lilith feel left out, presumably even before the curse if Lilith's desperation to stand out above Eda is anything to go by. Maybe, even without meaning to, Eda and Lilith's parents were pretty strict about getting them a good enough education and nudging them to join the Emperor's Coven. I mean... where do you wonder their aspiration to it came from?

Or, again, I'm just looking too much into this and this line was cut precisely because this wouldn't reflect Dell and Gwen well.

Small detail, in the storyboards, Eda said "I'll do anything to make up for this" instead of just "I'll do anything". I think it's possible they cut this because it made more sense to imply she'd do anything to stay rather than "make up for" things she wasn't truly sorry for.

More small details! Faust doesn't say "no child is beyond redemption", but rather "no one". This is interesting to me because it would imply Bump's life philosophy extends to adults as well, and in my opinion nods to the goodness in his heart.

Also! In the storyboards Eda doesn't laugh nervously, just raises her hand at Bump.

"IFWOT" also used to not have its name be said in the storyboards when Faust explained it to Eda and Bump, instead he simply called it a "special training program for gifted students of the Isles". I think this was more of a change to let us know of the name really, and it's possible they didn't have the name when it was boarded.

And finally, Faust was I guess supposed to laugh offscreen when he walked away, but this is absent from the final episode. I guess they either thought he might not be the type or they just forgot to add it, after all it would require someone to remember to record the line and add an offscreen sound effect.

Another set of boards for the same episode also shows Lilith and Eda in their studying together.

For starters, instead of Lilith saying "Trials for the Emperor's Coven are just around the corner", she says "The Emperor's Coven will be here *any* day" in the storyboards, which to be fair isn't a big difference, specially since the storyboards afterwards continue the same way with Eda pointing out seven months isn't any day/just around the corner.

Also something interesting, when giving Eda her question, Lilith specifies a potency the Leadfoot potion would have. Does this imply that potions can be mixed with varying potency, making some purposefully weaker or purposefully stronger? Maybe as a way to create balance?

Also it is barely a real difference, but I thought it'd be criminal to not let you all know Lilith is described to be "slightly envious" in the storyboards when stating that Eda is correct lol

She also had EEE on her dialogue before saying "imagine us both getting" on the storyboards which I'm sad didn't make it in!

Also there was no dialogue for Lilith pointing to the clock in the original storyboards! I'm guessing they added "look we're gonna be late" as a way to clarify what pointing anxiously at a clock meant lol

The storyboards then cut to way later in the episode, with Raine having transferred to Hexside and Eda meeting them in the cafeteria. Another slight dialogue change is Raine used to simply say their parents were surprisingly cool about it, rather than they hated the cold on the knee like they do in the final product.

It is very faint, but there is also a cut frame of Eda blushing at Raine while smiling here. Very cute!

Raine also used to take a sip while saying "give me the rundown of this place" while cutting that sentence in the middle and going "blegh" because of the taste, rather than in the final cut where they say the full sentence and then take a sip.

I think this may have been cut simply because it made the pacing of the dialogue way too awkward.

And finally, Raine used to laugh at Eda commenting on how much she liked the apple blood, which I think is just cute.

Next up, Labyrinth Runners! We have three different sets of storyboards for this one to get through!

First of all! After Bump takes a fighting stance, the coven scouts look at each other and shrug, which was cut in the final version. Guess they'd usually not think much of Bump huh...

Another set of storyboards shows us a pretty different look at the scene where Adrian has Gus held inside the gym: First of all, for some reason this set of boards is missing all of Adrian's dialogue, which makes it hard for us to infer just how much changed about that from the storyboards to the final cut, but we can see a glimpse of a different storyline with Gus' one line in all this:

"I'll never join your coven"... does that mean, originally, Adrian would try to force Gus to join the illusion coven, and Gus was resisting because he probably figured out by now getting coven sigils is bad news? But then again, I can imagine this was cut and quickly reworked into something a little less convoluted and more straightforward: Gus wouldn't know yet just how bad joining a coven is and about the draining spell, and Gus DOES specialize in illusion, so it could look odd that he is resisting this much.

There's another set of boards of when Hunter wakes up at the infirmary, and sadly this one is also missing dialogue. But we can still infer some differences!

First of all, after Skara tells him it's not an illusion and he is in the healing homeroom, Hunter opens his mouth briefly, maybe speaking words of relief or just sighing in relief really.

Also minor thing: it's a bit hard to tell with how these storyboards are with missing chunks, but it seems like Willow would have walked up to Hunter to defend him without him having to have brought up Gus' breathing exercise.

And for the last board in this, uhm, I don't... think this was meant to make it into the final cut but. LOL. LMAO.

Moving onto King's Tide!

Originally, we would've seen Luz use her safe fall spell when dodging Belos' attacks!

Also, instead of saying that it took him years to figure that (combining glyphs) out, Belos instead says it took him years to "harness their strength"... and he does NOT say anything about it being almost as if the titan was hiding it from him. Hmmm. Perhaps, more fuel to the fire of the theory that back then, there was no subtle implication of either the titan's consciousness lingering or Belos attributing his own disdain and lack of care to the titan?

This also curiously alters the next bit of dialogue: he still says "though you're still decades away from beating me", just earlier. And soon after, he says "that was almost impressiv-" getting cut out when Luz sends fire out at him. Not gonna lie, I almost wish this was kept because I like the idea of Belos getting cocky and immediately getting blasted, unable to finish his sentence. But oh well!

Speaking of dialogue differences!

Here, Philip says "And I'm giving you a chance to be saved, Luz. To go home!" instead of "And despite our differences, I want to help you, Luz. I can send you home." I consider this more or less the same, really, but it is an interesting change. He leans more on the saving aspect here.

And there is a pretty big cut scene also with how Luz responds to "I don't want to see another human life destroyed by this place".

Here, she snaps that he's the one destroying things, and wonders what it is all for, and then asks "what do you think they DID to you?"

Only after this, in the storyboards, does she go on to her "you're such a hypocrite" lines.

To me, this is a bit of a shame for having been cut out, because I feel like it brings up a good point about how Philip self justifies his wrongdoings by believing that the Boiling Isles residents are all inherently bad by the way they simply are, and that this divergence he cannot understand could somehow justify the drastic violent measures he takes.

I think it could have been this was cut for time, or maybe the crew thought this addition would be a bit confusing for some audiences to understand the implications it is trying to set up. It IS indicative of a bigger exploration of Philip's psyche after all.

Another incredibly interesting change: in the storyboards, Luz used to not have the petrification spell continue crawling up her, and is able to shake it off okay. I imagine they changed this to maybe make the situation look more dire and up the stakes a little, otherwise the scene might be too stale and anticlimactic with just Luz being able to keep talking and not having time ticking down on her life.

She also shuffles to her feet and is able to stand up while facing him, while in the final episode she can't get up due to the petrification spell still crawling up on her. Not gonna lie, I almost wish we did get this one, because the way she controls the situation with Philip here kind of feels more satisfying like this, while in the final product, you're busy going "shit shit shit LUZ OH NO".

She also used to cry a lot more on the boards when begging for the deal... I wonder if they added the petrification continuing really to just hammer home the desperation and make her crying have a "reason", though uh... hot take, I think she has reason enough to cry considering the Draining Spell threatening to kill everyone.

Also! Belos used to "chuckle" as the boards call for it when he was about to shake Luz's hand, but he doesn't do so in the final cut.

And finally for this batch: there's a small cut moment of Belos saying "you" with pained effort at Luz after she fucking booms him and gets the sigil on him, and she fucking STARES back with the most ominous badass look. I'm kind of sad that didn't make it in. Yeah it's minor but I like every time it's very clear Luz is being a thorn on his side and he is actually really fucking bothered by it actually.

Next batch of storyboards for this ep shows the fight with Belos on the bridge! First difference I can think of is that Luz was supposed to say "Philip" very quietly before getting jumpscared by him showing up behind her. It may have been cut similarly just because of them not getting audio for it or something or it not being necessary.

Bigger dialogue change: Instead of saying "we don't belong here", Belos says "I wanted to save you", which adds more fuel to the fire that they used to put a lot more emphasis on Philip's psychology of seeing himself as the one who gets to decide who is saved and seeing himself as a savior and martyr, and also someone done wrong by the demon realm.

I can't really know for sure why this was reworked and why more emphasis was put on rather Philip seeking to relate to Luz in their humanity. A lot of these boards seem to put even more emphasis on them as foils, standing up as equals against each other, and I do kind of lament we lost that? I mean, don't get me wrong, I can totally see that STILL lingers in the final product, but it feels way stronger in these.

By the way, if you're wondering, Luz does not say "I'm nothing like you" here either, it just cuts right onto Willow grabbing Belos with vines.

Also! When the gang shows up, they used to have no dialogue about how they're here to help and all, just cutting to Luz saying "you guys!!" (in the final product, she says "You guys are literally the coolest"). I do like the final product more, it's cute and adds more I think.

This one deserves to get shown: there's a cut little moment after Amity covers Luz where they look at each other and blush and it is! So cute! Why did it not make it in!! WHAT! Just because it "isn't the time to be gay"? Bullshit! Yuri time is all the time!

But for something that wasn't in the boards but made it in! Hunter protecting Willow was added in the final product!

And that is it for King's Tide... and so I ask that you tune in next time for when I analyze the For the Future boards!! I am VERY excited to get through those, specially because even between the roughs and cleans for a scene, there's so many little differences!!! And I want to talk about it ALL!!

#the owl house #toh analysis #storyboards #toh storyboards #luz noceda #emperor belos #philip wittebane #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #sorry for tagging all these characters but theyre all pretty relevant here!#commander's orders

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slayer-if · 2 years

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Into every generation a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer.

That’s the spiel you had been told on the eve of your sixteenth birthday; a day where your biggest worry should have been if you were going to get the car you wanted. You shouldn’t have dealt with the fact, and the dawning horror, that you were chosen to be the one to fight the coming waves of evil.

You didn’t want to believe it— hadn’t believed it to be true— and for the next two years everything was fine. There was an odd occurrence every now and then, but nothing that couldn’t be easily explained away by simple logic.

That is until you move to a new town— a town with a reputation for death— and everything starts to become a little too real. Your nightmares becoming a reality…

Will you be able to stop the incoming darkness? Or were you destined to die like all the Chosen One’s before you?

Demo Features

The MC is Gender Locked Female.

This story is inspired by the show Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and will be free from start to finish.

Will you be prepared for the great evil that seems to be lurking behind every corner? Or will you end up perishing too?

Will you be able to pass your classes while fighting the forces of evil at night? Will you even remember where they are?

Romance 1 of 6 options that will make your destiny that much easier to bear. Or that much harder…

Remember to have fun and enjoy yourself!

This story is rated Mature (18+) for depictions of violence, blood, gore, mentions of torture, profanity, sexual themes, underage alcohol consumption, and various other things that will crop up as the story continues.

NSFW asks will be tagged #nsfw for anyone that may wish to avoid them.

Anastasia

The Slayer that came before you. An individual that doesn’t back down from a fight and has a spirit has fiery at the pits of hell. She doesn’t know when to quit and refuses to back down from a fight when it concerns the people she cares for. The only problem? She was supposed to be dead.

Appearance: Anastasia stands at around 6’0” with electric blue eyes and raven black hair. Her lightly tanned skin stands out against the usual black leather that she wears. Her athletic body honed from years of training/fighting. (Her hair falls to just over her shoulder blades in soft waves.)

Oliver

One of the first people that you meet upon your entrance to Solaris High School. With a goofy demeanor, laid back attitude, and penchant to shove his own foot in his mouth, Oliver is definitely an oddball but you couldn’t imagine life without him. Not when he’s so clearly adamant about helping you. No matter what.

Appearance: Oliver stands at around 5’8” with dark brown eyes and dark brown hair. Light brown skin causes the gold flecks within his gaze to stand out. He’s usually seen within a graphic tee, almost drowning his slender body, of some kind and his trusty bag thrown over his shoulder.

Quinn

The first person that you meet within Solaris High that actually seems to be a genuine individual. Quinn doesn’t speak much, and she’s absolutely shy, but her intelligence shines through and her genuine wish to help you. Maybe it’s because of Oliver taking a liking to you, but you weren’t about to complain about having her help.

Appearance: Quinn stands at around 5’3” with dark green eyes and dark auburn hair. Her bronze skin causes the contrast of her eyes and hair to stand out that much more. She has a slender, almost delicate , body the usually hides beneath layers of clothing. (She keeps her hair to just under her shoulders.)

Noah/Nora

The one to watch out for within the halls of Solaris High. One word from their lips can either mean life or death for a person’s social standing. With an arrogant smile, haughty attitude, and complete lack of social awareness when it comes to their bluntness, you don’t know why you feel drawn to them, but you’re going to figure it out. Maybe even discovering something more along the way…

Appearance: They stand at around 5’11” with hazel eyes and light brown, almost golden brown, hair. Bronze skin standing out against the expensive brands that they tend to wear. You can’t look anything except your best after all. (Noah keeps his hair short and Nora keeps her hair to just over her shoulders.)

Cassius/Celeste

The mysterious stranger that you swear you’ve met before, but can’t quite place. Though you feel like you’d remember someone with their soft spoken demeanor and tendency to sink back into the shadows at a whim. You’re not sure why, but seeing them again brings a memory to the surface of your mind but it’s too far for you to grasp. Will you be able to discover what the stranger means to you? And what they’re hiding?

Appearance: They stand at around 6’3” with steel gray eyes and onyx black hair. Their olive toned skin has turned pallid, but you can’t truly understand why. They have an athletic build but not one that you’d consider bulky. (Cassius keeps his hair just above his ears and Celeste keeps her to her shoulder blades.)

Lucian/Lucia

Where C is soft spoken and mainly keeps to themself, L is anything else. They made it known, when entering Solaris, what they were and that it was you they were after— even if you weren’t exactly sure if they wanted to kill you or not. With a brazen attitude, tendency to flirt no matter the moment, and general suaveness, they were certainly one you couldn’t miss.

Appearance: They stand at around 6’5” with ice blue eyes and golden white hair. Pale skin standing out against the dark colors they tend to favor; really living up to the vampire stereotype. They have a lithe build that has power strewn across it. (Lucian keeps his short and Lucia keeps hers to the middle of her back.)

#slayer #no demo #interactive fiction #interactive novel #romance

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timotey · 7 months

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You know what would be a great twist? If Jung Ki Chul had known this whole time that Park Joon Mo was a cop.

I mean, since Ki Chul is so in love with Eui Jung, he could've checked her out and kept tabs on her for some time. And if so, then he would know who her husband was, at least if he did a good job with that. It would be great if he had known that Joon Mo was a cop and let him do "his thing" to see what would happen. But then Joon Mo actually honest to gosh protected him, again and again, risking his life and... Can you imagine Ki Chul's confusion? Like, what is this guy doing? He's a cop and he almost got himself killed protecting me? What IS his angle? It would explain the way he keeps staring at Joon Mo, like trying to crack a difficult nut. And it would also explain why he asked Joon Mo to help him win Eui Jung, it was a test.

That would be so awesome. And a really original twist, not the usual you betrayed me!!! spiel. But most likely not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But it's fun to speculate.

Also, I wish this drama went down the route of the French movie Les Spécialistes (1985) where an undercover cop had to choose sides and decided to stick with his crook friend, turning against the cops in the end, because he really started to like the guy - and dislike the cops. BTW, it's a great movie, highly recommend it! Unfortunately, Korean TV is too righteous for that. I could maybe see it happening in a Jdrama but alas, not here.

#the worst of evil #kdrama #mé

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whumpsoda · 8 months

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Trapped

I have been so busy and burnt out lately from work and writing and art and just everything :(

I have had like no good ideas working out for me and this definitely isn’t the greatest as well, but I’m glad to at least have SOMETHING

And idk if anyone has any ideas or requests I am SO open to that :)) Enjoy!

cw: restraints

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Doctor stepped to the bulky, leather chair, calmly plopping herself into it. The air in the bright, sterile room was thick and tense, but she paid it no mind.

Armed, burly guards were stationed on almost every side of her, hammering into her head how really dangerous her job was. She would much rather ignore that fact completely. No matter how risky, she was well aware of how essential her work really was. Her constantly above and beyond results was also a telltale sign of her vitality.

Moments prior, she had been urgently called down to the newest resident’s room, 0075, for what had been described as an emergency. Her higher ups always seemed to blow things out of proportion, doubting her capabilities, so the doctor was not worried. The doctor was never, worried. Not like she would show it anyways.

When she had first entered the room, she had first taken notice of her newest subject, displayed behind a thick window of glass. They had been strapped into a firm, uncushioned chair, retrained with thick, rigid, leather straps. The sight sent a momentary strike of guilt through Doctor’s being. That would occasionally occur, before she had to remind herself who she was dealing with, and why.

As expected, there were no reported injuries or power use. The guards gave no rational explanation as to why the patient had been restrained, or why Doctor had been so urgently called for. Only that the patient was in hysteric distress, which was a very usual experience for Doctor to witness.

Sitting in her own comfortable leather chair, she prepared herself for the introduction she had presented so many times prior.

“Hello patient, I’m Doctor. I’ve been so eagerly looking forward to meeting our newest resident, although not exactly in your state of discomfort.” The person’s eyes across the glass stabbed into the doctor’s, their look a mix of fury, desperation, and embarrassment.

“Let me go.” They snapped. As they began to struggle against the straps, the numerous security personnel guarding them took quick notice.

“Do not touch them.” The command froze the guards in their tracks. “They’re fine.” Doctor flashed a genuine smile toward their patient in attempt to comfort them, eliciting only a glare in response.

Doctor remembered the patient’s file stating they were young, but not as young as they appeared. The subject couldn’t be any older than twenty three, at the very most. Doctor was much older, and rarely ever saw any patients under thirty. They saddened at the thought of someone being corrupted so young.

Doctor lofted her hands into a defensive position, almost as if taming a wild beast. “I know you must be very scared right now, understandably so, but I am only here to help.”

“Help? So that’s why I’ve been kidnapped, and taken to some, some crazy government place? Let! Me! Go!” The yells elicited no reaction from Doctor, having heard the same spiel so many times before.

“If you would prefer, I could elaborate on our facility, our practices, and why you’re here?” She smiled again, her dimpled cheeks lifting to her eyes.

“No! I want you to let me go!” The patient continued struggling, to no avail, especially thanks to the metal cuffs that engulfed the patient’s entire hands. They became increasingly more distressed, their voice receding from unbridled anger, and rather leading to desperation. “You gotta let me go, lady, please! I’ve already seen enough of whatever crazy shit you’ve got going on in here, and I want no part of it.”

“If you’d just let me explain,”

“I don’t need you’re fake crap! I’ve already seen the other victims in this disgusting place, which was more than enough to fully convince me this whole thing is batshit insane!” They chuckled, a nervous and heavy one. Their cheeks were tear stained, their eyes already red and puffy from whatever events had perspired earlier.

Doctor was fully prepared for their first interaction to not go as well as she had always hoped it would. Not one patient ever gave her a trusting chance at first, but eventually they did.

This one would not be any different, she was sure of it.

“Honey, I understand you’re afraid, but no one is going to hurt you. Our only objective is to help.” She kept her back straight, both hands wrapped in her lap, and the same soothing smile plastered across her face.

“You kidnapped me! Kept me in a lab rat room for a week!”

“Oh honey, trust me, this is all for the good of everyone, and you know it.”

The patient let out another boisterous laugh, coated in worry. “You have got to be kidding! The good of everyone? Like I said, I’ve seen you’re other victims, you can’t lie to me!”

“Honey, they’re not victims, not anymore. They’re patients, just like you, getting the rehabilitation they need.”

“You call mind wiping rehab? Stealing and, and erasing a person’s entire being, molding them into some stupid, carbon copy of a model citizen? Jumbling up someone’s brains? You people are insane! You’re not helping anyone but yourselves!”

“We are not erasing anyone. We simply erase the villainy, their nature to commit acts of evil. Like I said, the disappearance of these seeds of evil in a person's mind simply ensures the safety of all innocent people, as well as the ill themselves.” A slender finger pushed up the shining frame of her cold glasses.

The patient’s mouth ran dry, a concoction of disbelief and horror spread across their scarred face.

“You- you can’t do this… I- I didn’t-”

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t lie to me child, you’ve certainly done a lot of things. That's what evidently landed you here, unfortunately.”

The reality of the situation was ramping up the patient’s panic, displayed through their ramped up frantic thrashing and staggered breaths.

For a moment the doctor’s smile lost its shimmer, although it almost instantly returned in full. She turned to face the guard positioned attentively next to her. “Sedate them please, I don’t have any more time to waste dealing with this nonsense.”

As she began swiftly picking herself out of her chair, and strode determinedly to the giant metal exit, the doctor turned to meet her new resident’s gaze one last time. Although their wails enveloped the room, their eyes clouded by fat tears, they managed to meet one another’s piercing eyes.

“I look forward to your long awaited recovery, Villain. You’ll soon see just how delightful it will truly be.”

#whumpblr #whump #villain whumpee #Lab whump #maybe?#doctor whumper #hero villain whump #villain #my writing #Writing drabble

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eluxcastar · 2 months

Note

I know there's an questionable amount of 13 with Arlecchino but. Can i have 13 sandrone? Please? Or 14? There's no food going on with that doll

Sandrone experiencing a crumb of love

── ୨୧：sandrone x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: sandrone questioning why her assistant has not left on account of her delightful personality

୨୧﹑genre :: slight fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, they're not in a relationship, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 1.4k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

sandrone is written like a bitter old man LMAO, but tbh, that's just the characterisation of her I prefer. some like her motherly, and Idk I just like her being a bit grouchy and wondering why these damn kids are on her lawn (slight joke), BUT I DID TRY TO GIVE HER A HEART so you can have that consolation

I hear your burning question "Riri what happened to the fourteen part" well you see the dreadful phenomenon we all know and hardly tolerate called "I can't read" struck again BUT I had an idea retrospectively so I will do that

prompt list

Sandrone is not the most personable woman. She is aware of that fact; she just doesn't care. Many people will come and go, but, dedicated entirely to her work, she finds that adapting herself for the comfort of others is an inconvenience.

You have always been her exception, a fatuu she kept around initially out of the necessity for a helping hand to hold the torch for her or aid in the testing of her creations. There is always something that needs doing, and with that workload, the demand for an extra set of hands arises to make a place for you. Assistant isn't quite the right word, her first inclination settling on lapdog and staying there as she took great pleasure in her cruelty towards you to see how long you would last under the thumb of her snappy and curt demeanour.

Evidently, you proved to be more resilient than she expected, and with time, her intentional tormenting died down to the bare bones of her attitude. Sandrone no longer requested you complete such dangerous tasks alone or begin spiels of the unnecessarily specific detailed demands she had of you. She relaxed into a state of simply accepting that, for a little while longer than the rest, you would be there to stay.

It's almost nice to hear sounds around her workshop, formerly filled only with mechanical dolls and spare parts she keeps. A person flitters about moving tools from her wall to her hand, living, breathing, capable of speaking with or without her prompting and all too inclined towards doing it. She listens to you as you work across the room—your footsteps, the humming whenever you start when you forget she's there, the clatter of gears, even the rubbing fabric of your clothes sometimes—and it's pleasant for the silence to be filled with life.

The thought almost confuses her, really, but she'll get over it.

What she may never get over is why. There are plenty of places you can go, a transient, run-of-the-mill worker she picked at random from a pile of names and didn't care to know anything about you beyond your capabilities until you showed up.

You remain steadfast by her side and don't show any signs of dissatisfaction, lost in your own little world some days. Maybe you cope with her by blocking out her presence. That would explain the humming and why you seem so happy to work here.

People always find something wrong. You have found nothing, and it makes her suspicious.

"Why are you here?" she asks one day, speaking out of the blue, out of character for her.

"I work here" is the response you offer, short as she usually is and with a bit of sass of your own that you picked up.

"I know." Slightly annoyed, she rephrased the question. "You could have transferred jobs before now."

"Paperwork's not worth the trouble," you joke, though she doesn't get that or doesn't find it funny, and her expression only sours at you. You throw your hands up in defence. "I kid, I kid! I don't have any reason to."

Sandrone knows what people say about her. She doesn't trust such a superficial reason, especially after your comment. "You're satisfied here?"

You shrug. "The work is easy, the conditions aren't gruelling. It's better than most places."

"I see," she says, falling silent. Her curiosity is mostly sated, save for some remaining questions she hasn't roused the courage to ask you yet.

"Should I be more unhappy?" you question, "You stopped making workplace hazards, and it's not unbearably cold in here. It's not like you're that difficult anymore."

She presses her lips to a lip line, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth. "You speak too carelessly."

You only offer her a smile and an unbothered "I know."

"I should reprimand you," she adds. Her hand absently finds a pleat in her skirt and toys with it, fingers running over the fabric as a background to the conversation. She considers what to say if you're so flippant with her again. Perhaps you think she'll go soft on you if you act friendlier towards her. She lifts her head with another thought. "If you have an ulterior motive, speak."

From the corner of her eye she sees you turn to glance at her for only a second before your focus is back on the tools you stand arranging for her. You always put them away just as she likes them.

"Is it a crime to just like you?" you retaliate with something unexpected, something gentle.

Sandrone opens her mouth to speak, bitter words on the tip of her tongue that die the moment she gains a hint of a conscience against ruining it. Nobody likes her. Sandrone is disagreeable, has a terrible personality, is snappy and disdainful, and is downright rude at times. People don't simply like her.

"People believe I'm terrible." She settles on a half-hearted grumble as she turns away. There's nothing more to be said, really.

"That's ridiculous." You say it too quickly for her liking.

She glares back at you like sharpened daggers looming inches from your back, though she's across the room and would have a hard time getting to you so quickly. "You're lying," she spits.

"A little," you admit, trying to ease the damage, "I don't think you're completely terrible."

She can't keep the frown from her face this time. "But I am still terrible."

"To an extent," you admit, cautious, but not nearly enough. "You have good qualities as well. It's not enough to just say you're terrible."

Seconds pass in silence, awkward on one side and impatient on the other as you shift your weight between your feet. Sandrone merely stares ahead, clearly having no intention of speaking and every intention of watching you squirm for as long as she can prolong it.

"What? You wanted me to be honest."

"You're reprehensible," she mutters. Her hands ball to fists in her lap and then relax again as she lets out an irritated huff. It's not worth working herself up over something she has heard many times before, a fact she has long accepted.

You sigh, a strangely upsetting sound. She doesn't like it, she knows that much. It's not the kind of sound you make when you're happy, and she'd much rather hear you hum your little songs across the room. "Don't end up a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"I'm doing no such thing," she says, sending another sharp glare your way to accompany her retort.

You crack a lopsided smile at her. It's a ridiculous face you're making, really, and in response to a perfectly reasonable statement. "Aren't you?" you question.

…Perhaps she might be. Perhaps a part of her does search for abhorrence. There's no greater reason to suspect you secretly despise her than her own belief—paranoia, one might even say—but to expect anything else is setting herself up for stark disappointment.

"Do you mean it?" she says quietly, eyes more focused on the fabric between her fingers to stave off the nervousness she's strangely riddled by.

You're nobody. Your opinion means nothing to her; it never should, never has and never will. You can lament all you like and--

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met."

She pauses, hand stilling in place, skirt pinched between her unmoving fingers. Her head tilts up, and she twists in her chair to meet the back of your head in a one-sided staring contest. At the first sign of you turning to her, Sandrone turns away, determined to hide whatever face she makes to gawk at you.

You are not real, fake, an imposter. She made a doll to curb her loneliness and programmed it to speak. You must be. You must be saying what she wants to hear. It is not new for lowly grunts to fear Harbingers to the point of reverence, though you have never shown signs of false flattery in your time with her.

Yet all of that is a lie; you are not another lifeless creation that operates on a mechanical heart. Perhaps you have simply gone mad in your time with Sandrone, or she has. Madness might suit her a little more than you.

"You jest," she manages to say after a long stretch of silence, browns furrowing to hide her shock at the sentiment, though you can't see her face. "I should cut out your tongue."

#♡ — anon visit.#✦ — headcanons.#sandrone #sandrone x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 9 months

Text

Between Two Lungs/Heaven is Here Pt 2

SYNOPSIS: Y/N tries to process the idea of eternity and reincarnation. Aziraphale begins to identify his feelings for both Crowley and Y/N. Crowley is pining and moody

WORD COUNT: 7k

TAGS: Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley, Aziraphale x Reader, Aziraphale x Crowley, fluff, soulmates, pining, kind of confession, so much fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, pov third person, fluff and angst

A/N: i didn’t mean for this to be as long as it is, and I mean the story itself. But there will be a part 3. This focuses more on Aziraphale, next more on Crowley. Sorry this isn’t as long as the last but felt like it was wrapped up

She felt like she was vibrating as a human, small little shakes destroying her entire sense of balance. Nina had made her take her break, though it was far too early in her shift, and she sat in the back with her legs shaking so violently the table rattled. She'd broken her mug that was sitting on top of it. Y/N was absentminded the entire shift, messing up orders and stuttering with each customer she talked to. Eventually Nina pulled her aside during a lull.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, eyes wide as she seemed to realize that this wasn't a 'here's the sugar, don't forget the napkins' spiel - the kind of spiel every new person got during the first month of their job, that was both helpful and insulting - but a 'you're fucking up spiel' - which was significantly less enjoyable and filled the receiver with such shame and embarrassment they considered the different cliffs nearby. During a particularly intense thought she considered the cliffs of Broadchurch, before remembering that was from a television show.

"Don't be daft. You've been a good barista these past few weeks, then that couple comes in and you're dancing like a bee."

"A bee?"

"They dance to communicate," Nina said plainly, as though it was an obvious comparison. Nina was sometimes so in her own head, tracking her own thought process, that she couldn't comprehend why it wasn't someone else's immediate thought as well. It was something her shrink told her to work on.

"Oh, sorry. I, they just rattled me." Y/N tried to ignore the image in her head of Nina moonwalking while firing her or someone salsaing on their way to tell someone their son has tried tragically. It was terribly funny and she was not in a terribly funny sort of mood. Demons and angels did that to a person.

Nina stared at her for a moment, "you a homophobe?"

"Oh! Oh my god, no. Never, that's not what I mean. No, no, no," she was rambling, not knowing what to say and now terrified her boss thought she was a homophone. She tried to consider how to explain to Nina that she wasn't homophobic, she'd just been pulled aside by a literal angel and demon who told her that her soul has been trapped on earth for more than 2,000 years eternally connected to them with their miscommunication and angst, which means that when the world does indeed end in fire she will definitely be there and might not have a place to go after the fact aside from miserable eternity. So she settled on saying something close enough to the truth that Nina wouldn't think she's a piece of shit that should be fired. "They, they made these comments about fate. Eternity and whatever. It wasn't bad, they weren't bad, I just got spooked. Not really religious, didn't know what to think of it."

Nina blinked rapidly and paused, letting Y/N's words sink in. "You're like this cause you're having a crisis of fate?"

"I- I, well yeah. It sounds silly. Just got to me."

"We get missionaries in here all the time, the Mormons won't leave me alone. You gonna be like this every time someone mentions God?"

"No! This is a one time thing, I promise. I'm not usually like this. I think it was the de - redhead, he drank like a lot of espresso and he was talking very intense-like." Whenever she got anxious her language devolved into likes and ums, stutters and little comments that only made sense to herself. She sometimes wished she could press an off button to stop the random shit that just decided to spew from her.

Nina looked at her with a sort of blanket skepticism she carried into each conversation. One of the things Maggie both loved and struggled with. Eventually she nodded, "right, okay. Life gets tough, people throw us off. I get it. I'm gonna send you home today, you're a mess even if it is a one time thing. Next time this happens, you tell me so we can fix it." Y/N's shoulders slumped at being sent home, feeling like she failed Nina. Nina, being surprisingly observant, went to reassure her, "shop closes in an hour anyways. Only one person comes in regularly and it's my partner, I'll be fine."

Y/N nodded, untying her apron and hanging it up. Nina gave her a smile as she left, trying awkwardly to comfort her. She really did appreciate the attempts, even if Nina's somewhat harsh demeanor failed to always communicate that.

Y/N loitered outside the shop for a minute, staring at the antique shop of 'Mr. Fell' who she'd come to realize just a few short hours ago belonged to the actual angel Aziraphale. She should go talk to them. They'd told her to. Aziraphale had insisted that she come over after her shift to discuss this situation more, maybe she could start to recover some of her past memories. She'd gotten a few initially, remembering the ring and Crowley's eyes. Crowley had suggested he just make Nina forget she was working and to let her go freely. While tempted by the demon's offer, she'd only had this job for two weeks and wasn't about to risk it all. Though it clearly wasn't the worst of her problems.

She began to cross the street to the building. It was tall and cute, tucked on a street corner and just old enough to be charming. Windows with drawn blinds teased at stacks and stacks of books, but even without approaching the door she knew it'd have a closed sign. Nina had told her when she first started at the coffee shop that the bookshop was never open, the owner liked having space for his personal library rather than actually selling any of his precious books.

Parked in front of the shop was a black Bentley. It was a vintage style though Y/N knew nothing about the year aside from it was older than 1980, and even then it was a hazarded guess. It was sleek, kept in prime condition. Inside one of the windows there was a film with two bullet holes printed on it, something that made Y/N smile. Her grandfather had one of them as well, said he'd bought it because of James Bond. In the back seat she spotted a cardboard box labeled 'troublemaker' with a plant sticking out of it. It's leaves were wilting. Somehow, without even being told, Y/N knew the Bentley was Crowley's.

She lingered in front of the doors. She wanted to knock, she had to knock, but it was bloody scary to face your entire past, present, and future in one go. But, with bravery unmatched since the laudanum accident in the '30s - the 1830s, that is - she knocked.

Behind the door she heard two voices talking, the deeper grumbling and getting closer as he walked to the door. Then it swung open with a gusto, revealing the shape of Crowley.

She swallowed. He was imposing, tall and thin as he peered down a just slightly crooked nose. His hair was beautifully curled back on his head, though the slightest hairs fell onto his forehead. Though his spectacles covered his eyes, she let out a breath knowing those eyes were still there. His eyes had been a constant in her life.

"We're closed- oh. It's you." He said, his voice getting hoarse as he stared at her.

"Who is it - oh! Dear, you're here. Come, come in." Aziraphale said from further in the shop, standing with a book in his hands and spectacles on his nose. He looked kind and sweet, back straight and plush, pink lips curved into a smile. Crowley moved aside for her, letting her cross the threshold with anxious steps. He slammed the door shut.

The bookshop was exactly as she expected. Stacks and stacks of slightly dusty book shelves, covered with as many books as possible. There were horrors, romances, histories, science fictions, fantasies and Bibles. A remarkable number of bibles actually. They had a whole row shoved full of copies of the Bible. Y/N didn't feel like analyzing why an Angel would want well over 20 copies of his group's history but who was she to judge? She owned 5 copies of her favorite book, the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Perhaps a little boring as it was a classic, but the story had hooked her since she saw the enamoring - although a slightly questionable choice to be a children's movie - Disney adaptation. One look into the music and she was glued to the story. The shop smelled of vanilla and old books, a combination that helped calm her racing heart.

"Hi," she said softly once she realized the unearthly beings were staring at her expectantly.

"Hi," Crowley said back. He hadn't taken his spectacles off, and she didn't like that.

"I, um, I love the shop. It's so warm."

"I can, err, lower the temperature if you require, dearest," Aziraphale said, wanting to help calm her but not knowing how.

"No, I meant the atmosphere is warm. Like a hug. But t-thank you," she said. Then after a pause she added, "Aziraphale."

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Aziraphale said finally after a long moment where the three exchanged glances at one another, unaware of what to do next. The tension was so thick she briefly wondered if she jumped from a ledge if she’d be caught in it’s stupid bloody web. A weird and kind of stupid analogy but it seemed to bring her back to reality. Silly things always did.

She let out a breath, "fuck yeah."

Crowley chuckled at this, sauntering back to where he'd been sitting by Aziraphale's desk. Aziraphale gave a curt nod and went into some back room. She lingered by the door.

"C'mon over here, I don't bite," he said, taking a sip of wine from a glass she hadn't seen sit on the end table. His posture was sprawled on a comfy chair, one leg hanging over the arm of it.

"I'm beginning to doubt that," she said with a little laugh, grateful for his relaxed energy to bring down some of the tension. She walked over and sat on a sofa that was surprisingly comfortable, letting herself sink into the cushions.

"Only if you ask, darling," Crowley said with a wink. He immediately regretted the wink but tried not to let it show. He was never an intentionally flirty individual so when he did say flirty things, often by accident, he cringed at himself.

But she just flushed at his words and got comfortable on the sofa. She wasn't upset, in fact she shot back with a, "only in your wildest dreams, love." The term love sent his human heart racing and he quickly looked away. Only Aziraphale had made him feel this way and he hadn't even begun to process those emotions, let alone do it a second time for her.

Aziraphale returned with two steaming mugs of tea and a bottle of wine which he promptly handed over to Crowley. She thanked him and sipped the drink, letting out a happy sigh at the cinnamon thrown in. She loved cinnamon.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, his eyes wide and full of concern. "It can be a lot to take in."

"I'll admit I've kind of been in a state of shock. It doesn't feel real. Not that I don't believe you, I mean you did stop time and I remember your ring. It's, it's kind of frightening, actually? If that doesn't sound childish."

"Earth's full of s'frightening things," Crowley said in a strange sort of reassurance.

"Right, well while I appreciate that sentiment, you two aren't from Earth. So it's another layer of frightening."

"Perhaps we could help ease your worry by answering some questions?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have so many, I don't want to waste your time." She said, running her tongue over her lips quickly. She was struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Darling, you aren't a waste." This kind statement came, surprisingly - or unsurprisingly depending who you asked, as Aziraphale watched with a fondness towards a certain demon Y/N couldn't explain - from Crowley. "We could ask you some as well if you'd like. Even the scales a bit."

She blew out a breath, nodding. Her heart was racing inside her chest. Strangely enough she did trust these two unearthly beings, but she didn't know what to do or say. She'd never imagine herself being in a situation like this before, and she couldn't fathom the words. They slid on her tongue but wouldn't come out. So she meekly said, "you first?"

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Aziraphale smiled when he looked into Crowley's eyes, remembering how he and Y/N had agreed they were the demon's best feature. They made him look so kind, even if it seemed a roundabout sort of way. Crowley, on the other hand, was admiring the way Aziraphale guided what felt like such a new and unknown conversation. The Angel took lead with a breath and a kind smile, "what is your favorite dessert?"

Her mouth dropped slightly as her eyes lit up, she hadn't expected such an innocent question. "I- I don't know. I can be quite picky. Maybe Tiramisu? I quite fancy that."

"How lovely! Such a wonderful choice." Aziraphale clapped eagerly, now craving a nice cold Tiramisu with a warm cup of coffee right beside it. And of course water as a palate cleanser. Oh and perhaps -

"What-," she started, then seemed to lose steam. Y/N straightened, setting her mug down and sitting more firmly. "When did you meet me? First meet me?"

Crowley gestured for Aziraphale to start. The Angel began, "we met you in 55BC. You couldn't have been more than 25, maybe a little younger given you were unmarried at the time. Crowley and I went to eat oysters, and you were in a corner crying. Julius Caesar had just announced his invasion on Britannia, and you had a brother and father who were both in the Navy. You worried over their safety. I blessed you eternally, and Crowley cursed you eternally."

"What made you curse me?"

Crowley looked embarrassed, "I wasn't used to the whole cursing thing so it was a surprise for s'both. You tripped over my foot and called me an asshole."

Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed slightly. Then she stilled, searching her brain for as much memory as she could. It was hidden in the back of her head, hazy ideas of what happened with no coherent life story. She mused to herself that all those hyper realistic historical dreams she had must have some founding in her experience. Her experience. There was a Y/N that existed out of this body and this name, and she existed over 2,000 years previously. She was a sister and a daughter, she had fears and worries just like she did now. It was a frightening concept.

Crowley seemed to notice Y/N sink into herself, mind moving so quick with all these ideas. He couldn't well tell her not to overthink it because even trying to think about it was overthinking it, but he knew he had to be careful with it. Ease her into the world with little memories here and there. "You like Shakespeare?"

"Oh, I, yes I do. I love Shakespeare's works. I performed in one of his plays in secondary school."

"Which one?"

"Taming of the Shrew," she laughed. "Horrible meaning nowadays, but I was lucky enough to be Katherine. It was fun yelling and banging things up on stage."

Crowley and Aziraphale chuckled, they would have loved to see that performance. They imagined her standing brave, eyes sharp and shoulders pulled back as she spat venomous words to all of the men who dared to stand in her way. She was a passionate woman - time couldn't steal that - regardless of her acting ability, they wanted to see and feel it all.

"Did I ever see Shakespeare?"

"Funny you mentioned it, dearest, but yes. We met you once at Hamlet's rehearsals. You were quite enamored with the stage," Aziraphale looked wistfully into Y/N's eyes. "I know it seems odd to say given the strange circumstances, but it's one of my favorite memories of you. Before I realized who you were, I always thought fondly of the girl who broke in to see a Shakespeare show. You were so excited to be alive and experience life, that can be quite refreshing for an immortal creature."

Y/N's chest felt tight and she tried to swallow the emotion in her chest. She'd been there, seen it with her own eyes with people she didn't know she'd known and would know. The idea of reincarnation, of a soul going through the motions of life forever, haunted her and she suddenly felt as though she couldn't breathe. They were being wonderful with her, patient and kind. They knew that the concept of eternity wasn't easy, a brain couldn't wrap around it just right. It was so much, it was too much. She felt trapped and stupid, so stupid - shouldn't she be able to process this? Characters in film and book seem to understand the confusion around them like it was common sense, they don't panic over each thought related to what it is. Her chest was tight, she closed her eyes and tried to fight back tears she didn't know were there. This was too much, why would some God give all of this to humans?

She suddenly felt a hand along her back, gently rubbing up and down. It was Aziraphale, hands large, warm, and consistent along her spine. She released a shaky breath. "Breathe with me, dearest. Inhale... exhale. Inhale..."

Crowley appeared, sitting on the floor and leaning against the coffee table. He pointed to her hand and asked, "May I?"

She nodded and he lifted it, letting his fingers rub mindless circles into her palms. They were short and sweet, running up to her elbow and down to her finger tips. They made her shudder but in the best way.

Her heart started to calm down, the world stopped spinning beneath her. She focused on Aziraphale's warm hands on her back, Crowley's ginger touches to her arm. They were kind and gentle. It made her feel safe, it made her feel appreciated. In the back of her mind she felt those stupid, mindless thoughts about self loathing and incompetence.

Crowley seemed to sense these feelings. Whether he could read her mind or she was just that transparent she didn't know, but he jumped in. "Y/N, it'snot bad to question the universe. The universe is bloody strange, no one can make sense of it."

She opened her eyes now, blinking away the tears, and looked into his. His glasses were still on and she slowly went to remove them, to reveal the eyes she remembered. These eyes were raw, these eyes didn't lie. They were kind to her. She nodded.

"Dearest, if you are comfortable, would you like to take a rest? I have a bed upstairs if you'd like," Aziraphale said. She turned to look to him. His eyes were glassy and his nose pink, as though he was fighting to hold back tears himself. She liked his face, he had a pretty face. Pink lips with a perfect little Cupid's bow on the top, turned up in an attempt at a smile. She could tell he was struggling, wanting to help her.

So she nodded, stood up on wobbly legs and followed after Aziraphale up a winded staircase to a cozy bedroom. It was small, but covered with antiques and precious books on a desk in the corner. A large bed took up most of the room, made up nearly with beige sheets and many, many fluffy pillows. Aziraphale took his time fussing, folding back the sheets and making sure the pillows were just right. She climbed into the bed and laid her head down, smiling in affirmation.

"Now, dearest, we will be right downstairs. You remember that this situation is frightening, you are not wrong. If you need either of us just call."

She reached out for his hand and kissed his palm, muttering "thank you," against his skin. He nodded, flushed cheeks and ears, and hoped for her to sleep well. She closed her eyes, willing to be swept away in a world without fear.

—————

Aziraphale went down the steps quietly, meeting Crowley back where they were. Crowley had put his spectacles back on, sprawling in the chair. However, Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough to know that it wasn't as casual as it looked. He could tell by the way Crowley adjusted awkwardly that he, too, was trying to hide his emotions. Aziraphale sat down on the couch where Y/N had sat, his hands on his legs awkwardly before he sighed.

Aziraphale poured himself a glass of Crowley's wine, savoring the sharp taste. Crowley's brows shot up and he smirked, "bad day, eh?"

"I still do not understand the concept of sarcasm."

"It's funny, Angel."

"Hardly, if it was funny I would laugh."

Crowley chuckled to himself, sipping the wine. Aziraphale was so unintentionally hilarious sometimes. He glanced outside the window, peeking through the blinds as the sun started to slip behind the buildings. Crowley wondered vaguely how Y/N was feeling, wondered how they could ever make her feel better. There was no good way out of this situation, it'd never happened before and was certainly not going to happen again.

As Crowley thought about Y/N and the world, Aziraphale was caught thinking about the demon. He thought back to how kind he had been to Y/N, how he'd asked for permission to distract her with light touch. His reassuring words she hadn't asked for but he seemed to know she needed to here. The way he understood how terrifying the prospect of life truly was. Aziraphale had had this thought for a while, but it seemed to suddenly strike him that Crowley truly wasn't evil at all. In fact, he was kinder than most angels Aziraphale knew.

Questions. All it has been to cause Crowley to fall was some questions meant out of kindness. And yet questions were what he encouraged, what he did to help Y/N and help Aziraphale. He asked Aziraphale about anything, knowing how the Angel loved to learn and discover. He prompted him to reach farther, do better, not settle for what is known but look for more. Questions paved the way to understanding, which might not always lead to happiness, but it can settle the soul. Crowley had learned a long time ago that knowing is half the battle, but he'd rather stand half a chance than not at all.

"You were very kind to her," Aziraphale eventually said.

"Ngk, she was s'panicking."

"You didn't have to reassure her."

Crowley made a noise in the back of his throat as though he resented that statement, "yous might say that but when you trap someone to eternity, she deserves ki - not bad stuff."

Almost a dangerous slip up. Crowley was typically very aware of the words he spoke and how it could get him in trouble. Though his affiliation with Hell was pretty much done, they still had the power to torture him need be. No use letting the word out that he could ever be 'kind.' Crowley remembered what life was like after the 1830s, and his back seemed to burn with the memory. Scars that never truly heal, but reform, each step more painful than the last. But that was a moment for a different day, different circumstances.

Aziraphale went to speak, then doubted himself. Then he strengthened, reminding himself that things are different. He was going to make a move. "Crowley, I was planning to read my book. Would you - would you like to sit with me while I do?"

Crowley blinked, not understanding Aziraphale's poorly explained request, "I am sssitting Angel."

"Over here." Aziraphale said awkwardly, gesturing to the space around him.

Crowley didn't understand what Aziraphale meant. On the angels lap? Certainly not, neither of them were ready for that level of intimacy. Right beside him? Perhaps, but Aziraphale patted his thigh so perhaps not. The Angel cleared his throat, "I thought, perhaps, you could rest your head on my lap while I read."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up. Ah. Despite himself his cheeks flushed pink, but he wanted more than anything to fulfill the angel's request. He'd never dreamed that Aziraphale would prompt anything.

They stared at one another, realizing what this meant. In this moment they were acknowledging an unspoken part of their relationship, that they were certainly more than friends or acquaintances and far from enemies. That they might 'fancy' each other, as the humans say. This was their person, and they were wrapped eternally with one another. Crowley knew another fact, they were wrapped eternally with Y/N. And they couldn't make their relationship with her function if they could not understand themselves either. He also knew that Aziraphale looked very handsome, ankles crossed and book posed in hand as he waited for the demon.

Crowley sauntered over, laying closer to the edge so his legs could dangle off the arm. Then he let his head fall on the angel's lap. Aziraphale had very strong thighs, always had. They were warm through his trousers, and all of him smelled of vanilla and old books. Crowley let himself close his eyes, cherishing the warmth and surprising comfort of the position.

He felt soft fingers start to scratch lightly at his scalp, musing with his hair as gently as possible. Crowley let out a small moan at the feeling, Satan it felt good to have your hair played with. Aziraphale chuckled.

"What're you reading?"

"Henry V."

Crowley swallowed before asking, "Can yous read it to me?"

Aziraphale smiled, "of course, darling." He flipped back to the first scene for Crowley's sake. "The chorus sings 'O for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest Heaven of invention' ..."

Though they wouldn’t say the words until much later, until emotions seemed to swirl round them and they couldn’t not address it, this was the best way they could say it.

It crossed a demon’s mind for the first clear time, I’m in love with an Angel.

It crossed an angel’s mind for the first clear time, I’m in love with a demon.

—————

She woke up the next morning to the sun blinking through the blinds. She hadn't slept that hard in a long time and she let herself wake up slowly, sleep threatening to take her over again. Y/N sighed, that was nice. Aziraphale's room was organized chaos, and as she woke up she let her eyes adjust to all the little things throughout the room. Trinkets.

A snow-globe that looked like early 1900s, multiple copies of Beowulf in various conditions stacked on his desk, a note from Crowley signed with a large signature taped to the wall, a map of England with a pin sticking out of a town called Tadfield. A whole person's history in one collection.

Y/N was significantly calmer this morning that she was yesterday. She'd woken up for a moment during the night and began to let her mind wander to all the possibilities, before stopping herself and falling asleep. Today, she found herself more used to the idea. It was strange, uncomfortable even, but she wasn't panicking.

She got out of bed, rolling her ankles and stretching her body. Her bobble had fallen out during the night and she grabbed it to pull her hair back and out of her face. Then she carefully went downstairs, smelling the warm scent of baked goods wafting its way to her. When she entered a kitchen that seemed hidden behind rooms full of books, she saw Aziraphale in his vest and trousers paired with an apron covered in sweet little hearts.

"Good morning, my dear!" He said when he saw her. He was making some tea and gestured for her to take a seat at the island table while the kettle finished boiling. "How did you sleep?"

"Really well, actually," she said with a little laugh, her voice hoarse from her first words.

He turned to her, smile so genuine it shocked her, "I'm so glad to hear it. I am making us some cinnamon rolls. I've also decided to slice up some apples to go with it, I thought the freshness of the fruit might be nice first thing in the morning."

"That sounds amazing," she said. "Where is Crowley?"

"He said he had some business to attend to. Shouldn't be out long, I assure you, dearest."

She mulled over in mind what 'business' Crowley had. She knew from some of their explanations in the cafe that they don't necessarily work for Heaven or Hell as they used to, they're more or less independent. That left them to live life as they see fit, so what business could a demon have?

"Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything."

He glanced up, surprised. He came over and grasped her hand lightly, "my dear, this is a strange thing that has happened to you. Crowley and I wish to support you."

"If I can ask... why? You could have not told me, you could have continued without dealing with the consequences. I'd have never known."

"We couldn't do that. You didn't choose this, and we did not mean to do it."

"I don't want to be your responsibility, that's not fair either."

He blushed, "It's, err, it's more than that. We want to be with you. In whatever way you'll take us, myself and Crowley. If I may be forward, we've yearned for you for too long to lose you the first time we realize what we have."

"You've not even known me? I could be horrible."

"You are not horrible, dearest. I could feel it if you were. It's ... odd. Our souls are drawn to you and we want you in our lives, even without knowing the details. Both Crowley and I have longed for the woman with the strange encounters throughout time, and we finally found her. The souls are linked, even without reason, and we'll take you in any way we can."

Her mouth dropped open, forming a little shocked 'o.' That was hot. Is that weird to say that was hot? She'd never had a man - granted he wasn't a man just presenting male - confess wanting her, in any way, like that. It made her toes tingle and her heart warm, and she stared deeply into Aziraphale's blue eyes to be certain this was no joke. She knew he was an Angel but she put that aside and looked at him. He said they were drawn to her, and without saying the word implied they'd loved her for years without knowing. She isn't the sort this happens to, she doesn't have creatures who want to know her and understand her like this. It was a pure connection, one built on a link they couldn't understand but knew all the same. Mysterious ways of the Almighty and all. She kept looking into those eyes, searching for any sort of trickery. Despite herself, she knew he wasn't the sort to lie.

The kettle started to screech and Aziraphale pulled away to pour the cuppas, destroying the moment. He slid hers in front of her, just as she likes it. It was delightful.

Y/N watched Aziraphale move around the kitchen. He wasn't a particularly tall man, but he wasn't short either. She let her eyes fall along his strong forearms, revealed by his sleeves rolled to the elbow, lightly dusted with hair. His hands were capable, yet she knew they were soft. He might not be the most conventional sort of attractive, the type that movie stars are, but she was struck by him. Aziraphale had a draw to him that made her blush and glance down, suddenly shy in his presence yet knowing she was safe in who she is.

She realized that she wanted to know more about him, she wanted to hear his stories about his life, regardless of if she was in it. She wanted to know more about his relationship with Crowley, and what they had that seemed to be left unsaid. Y/N couldn't believe the fantastical reality that started playing in her head, a world where she lived and loved a demon and an Angel. Love was getting ahead of herself, she should be more careful. She longed for a good relationship with them, but that didn't mean that it had to be a romantic relationship. But, as she looked back at the Angel she sighed, damn did the Angel have great thighs.

"Dearest?" He asked, eyes wide and mouth just slightly parted as he stared at her.

She glanced down. Her tea had gotten cold and a warm cinnamon roll with apple slices on the side sat in front of her. "O-oh. Thank you."

"Is everything alright?" Damn him for sounding so sincere, blue eyes sweet like candy.

"You won't laugh?" She asked with a small smile, though she'd already made the decision to tell him honestly. She had a feeling lying would not make things easier in this relationship.

"No," Aziraphale answered precisely.

"I was distracted by you. You're so handsome."

Aziraphale seemed to have a little shock, as though he didn't believe that is what she said. "Pardon?"

"I," She laughed softly, embarrassed to revealing that so boldly. Y/N always admired those who were bold, and in the moments it was needed to she would, but she didn't often express those thoughts. Mainly for a fear of being seen as a creep, but also because rejection is a scary thought. But Aziraphale was sweet, and seemed flattered that she thought him to be handsome. "I think you're very handsome. I like looking at you."

His cheeks flushed pink and he took a rushed sip of his tea, "well, thank you darling. I- I hadn't quite expected that. I've been told I'm soft."

She laughed, "so? Soft isn't a bad thing."

"Do you like soft?"

"Sure, I like soft, I like hard. Besides, I believe personality and talent makes a person attractive anyhow, it's not too important what it might look like to society."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, there's plenty of people who look just as the world wants for beauty. And I don't mean to say they're unattractive, they are. But I personally believe that a kind, talented man who might be ugly to the papers is the most attractive you'll encounter. And a mean, untalented man touted as attractive tends to be ugly. Words change appearances."

"You're very wise, my dear," Aziraphale said with a warm smile, placing his hand over hers. She took a shaking breath, looking up at him. He was close to her now, hot breath that smelled of cinnamon hitting her cheeks as a hand lifted near her cheek, "May I?"

She didn't know what he was asking, but she nodded because she knew she'd relish in it all the same. First Aziraphale's hand went to the bobble round her hair, gently releasing it so it fell down. Her scalp itched from the strain, and his fingers gently massaged it. His hands were strong, capable.

She was struck for a moment with a memory that seemed forgotten. Her holding the hand of a kind stranger as she slid a finger onto his finger, the way he'd clutched hers as though he might lose her. They were warm then, kind. These hands had also blessed her when she wasn't looking, guided her safely home, and cared for her at the bank of the river at St James's park. For Aziraphale it was a flash, a mere second as the memories went through her mind but she felt them deeply, surrounding her. She could feel the dirt floor of the Globe theatre beneath her feet, or the way her heart had jumped when she spotted him in 1865. It was overwhelming and beautiful, she saw a whole person's history in her interactions with him, with them. It was stupid, it was silly, but she wanted to know them. She wanted to experience the life she could only remember in fragments.

Y/N hadn't realized that tears had come down her cheeks until those hands that spoke the history came to hold her face. She leaned into his touch, the pads of his thumbs wiping the tears away.

"My dear, may I?" Aziraphale asked, his voice suddenly huskier than she'd ever heard it. Her eyes opened, staring into his. He cried also, gentle tears down his sweet cheeks. She hadn't realized she'd been holding onto his vest.

"Aziraphale... I remember you."

That was the invitation, the consent, he needed. With a gentle sort of ferocity, Aziraphale leaned in and took her lips in his own. It was eager yet restrained as it held her in place, imploring her to feel all that he felt. All 2,000 years of yearning over an unknown idea. She kissed back with an intensity she didn't know she had. She hadn't much kissing experience, not the sort to fancy many people due to her high standards that seemed only met by non-humans, but with each inexperienced stroke she paired it with passion and enthusiasm. He guided her, led her through the kiss with grace. It was like a dance. It was messy at times, noses clashing and tear stained cheeks brushing, but it was perfect. It was Aziraphale and Y/N, and they seemed to understand what the other needed.

They parted from air, their mouths not far from one another's as they let out gasps. Y/N wanted more, this Angel was dangerously close to becoming her own brand of oxygen and that kiss was the best bloody one she'd ever had. Her first was a horrible sort, a lad with no lips and horrible breath.

Aziraphale leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Y/N's lips before pulling away more definitely. They were both right messes. Mouths swollen and pink, cheeks flushed, and hair ruined. Y/N hadn't even realized her hands had gotten buried in those soft curls, and his explored her locks that now hung free. She had a thing for good hair, and it seemed the Angel did too.

"Did - did I overstep any boundaries?" He asked, having to clear his throat. His voice came back to his normal register, though it seemed to ring with suppressed emotions.

"No," she said simply. "You didn't."

Aziraphale blew out a breath, letting his forehead fall against hers with a soft laugh, "I worried, my dear, that that was a rash decision on my part. You have only, technically, known me for two days."

"I've known you for a lifetime, love."

The nickname seemed to roll off her tongue, as it had the other night with Crowley. Comfortable, easy. And Aziraphale tried to stop the way his vessel's heart jumped at the thought of love. Too early, yes.

"Let's eat our breakfast, shall we?"

"I'm starved," she answered back, sitting on a bar stool and pulling her plate towards her. "This looks delightful."

They ate together with small bits of conversation intermixed between flushed glances when they caught the other staring at them. Aziraphale's food was as good as it looked, sweetness baked into a cinnamon delight that made her roll her eyes back. God she could eat this whole. Or, she supposed, she should say Aziraphale she could eat this whole, remove Her from the equation. Soon Y/N realized that she had a shift coming up at Nina's cafe, and needed to run to her flat to change.

"Your apron is at the front, dearest, with your purse from yesterday. We left them untouched."

"Oh, good, thank you Angel."

She went out and grabbed her purse, checking to make sure she had everything she needed. Then she realized her hair falling in her face. "Aziraphale?"

"Hmm?"

"I need my bobble back."

"Your what, dearest?"

"My bobble, hair tie thing. What you took out of my hair."

Aziraphale hummed as he walked into the main area and towards his desk, an odd yet attractive set of glasses on his nose. "I've not the faintest idea what you're talking about, love. Perhaps it fell."

Ah. Unlikely story. Especially unlikely given the bobble now on the angel's wrist. Guess he fancied her hair like that, round her face. She rolled her eyes and made to leave, before hesitating at the door. "Thank you, Aziraphale. For.. for taking me seriously. It's a strange idea, my soul being immortal and what not. I'm struggling to adjust. But I know that I want you and I want Crowley, I want to figure this out."

Aziraphale's chest seemed to lighten at the words and he smiled at the woman standing before him. She was beautiful and calm as she said this, her hair looking radiant. Y/N was quite right, he fancied her hair indeed. "I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. After your shift, if you'd like, you may come back to the bookshop?"

She smiled, "I'd like that. I, I think I'll pop round to my flat after work first to wash my hair. Let me write my number for you."

Y/N quickly scribbled her number on the front page of a very modern copy of Hunchback of Notre Dame, handing it to Aziraphale and saying, "it's my favorite book. Thought this new copy could handle the defacement."

Then she left quickly and the Angel watched her figure race past the door towards her flat, lips still pink from kissing an Angel.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #aziraphale x crowley #fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #fluff #aziraphale x crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #so much fluff #angsty fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #binging broadchurch #accidentally made this a series #didn’t mean to but now there will be probably a part 3 and 4 #so sorry to the people who were really invested #sorry this is short

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