#or. well. at least all the time around Juno.

[thestrangesthell]

Afterlife Jobs and Civil Service

Seen a few theories and "plot hole" accusations flying around after Beetlejuice Beetlejuice and thought I'd add my own hypothesis on what the deal is with jobs in the afterlife.

This will contain spoilers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

TW: This post will discuss suicide. Please only proceed if you are comfortable.

The short version: I think (for the most part) jobs are a choice and available to those who need to hang around due to unfinished business (even if they themselves don't know what that is). I think those who commit suicide do have to work for some time as it wasn't their time to die yet. They can't just board the soul train and move on to better plains. Instead, (and though rather sour in the mouth), they're met with the shock that it isn't over. This is Beetlejuice, after all. Death and life is hard.

Now, for the long version (and it really is long), read on!

Despite the fact I do personally think it's canon that those who commit suicide end up having to work (at least for a while) in the afterlife, we can't believe that purely because Otho said so. Firstly, the guy is living, pompous and has zero evidence for that statement. Secondly, he's not a credible source. He may have been "one of New York City's leading paranormal researchers until the bottom dropped out in '72," but his interest in anything can be boiled down to obsession with image and aesthetic more than a desire to get into the nitty gritty.

What we as the audience do see is people working in the afterlife that could have died by suicide.

There's the Road Kill man ("Thanks, I've been feeling a little flat!"), Juno (*who I will come back to) and most obviously, Miss Argentina. These people are working and likely (if not outright confirmed) died by suicide.

It's a weird thing to pick up on, but what about the skeleton workers?

Besides being a great visual gag, there's not really a clear indication of death by suicide here. We could, of course, suggest they died this way and have since been "worked to the bone" - as this is the Beetlejuice franchise after all, and lord knows pun-based humour is...well, pun-damental - but no other ghosts seem to have permanent alterations to their state. In the Beetlejuice universe, once you're dead, you're stuck that way. (Unless you get your soul sucked that is).

Well, that clears things up, right?

Maybe not.

For a long time, a lot of us in the fandom accepted the whole "in the afterlife they become civil servants" thing because, well, that was what we were told. But with the recent instalment of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice this is now dubious.

Why?

Betelgeuse himself.

Betelgeuse was largely assumed by many to have died by suicide. Various headcanons over the years include strangulation, hanging, poison, drowning, electrocuting himself - the list truly goes on. part of his charm is the mystery. But with the sequel, it is suggested that he died by poison from another. Delores.

Why is this an issue?

Well, if Betelgeuse didn't commit suicide, why was he Juno's assistant?

I have two theories for that.

Firstly, in line with this entire post - he died after Delores poisoned him and then chose to work up from the bottom to become Juno's assistant. He claims himself that his heart was pretty much blackened before he met Delores, so what's to stop him from wanting to take over in the afterlife after finding himself there ahead of his time? He probably feels robbed of life and hella opportunistic. It would support the theory of unfinished business and explain the random jobs we see him doing in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. From Guide to working Immigration, man's got one hell of a resume.

Then there's my second theory, which muddies the waters quite a bit.

We didn't actually see him die after he was poisoned.

I'll let that fester for a bit...

Ready to move on?

Let's talk about *Juno!

Juno, my beloved.

Despite recent questions surrounding her cause of death, I do personally feel the cut on Juno's throat was self-imposed. The issue fans have with how deep the cut is can be answered fairly reasonable. This is more practical rather than an effort for believability. Beetlejuice is high camp and smoke pouring from the throat of a ghost only adds to its ridiculousness. Plus, it helps back up my theory that those who commit suicide are required to do some type of work in the afterlife to make up for their shortened time on earth.

The reason I believe this is that Juno seems to really hate her job - or at least hate the crap that comes with it. If she had chosen to be a caseworker, (or been given a job similar to what she did when living), we'd perhaps see her be a little more understanding to everything that was going on. Instead, she's burdened by her paperwork, sick of having to deal with issues from baby ghosts and their "routine hauntings," and the poor woman is constantly haunted by the knowledge that Betelgeuse is out there.

(While we don't know their history, we do know that Betelgeuse ended up with a bit of a liking for Bio-exorcisms. I don't think she believes him evil any more than she considers him a nuisance, so we can only assume he got caught up in trouble that threatened Juno's line of work, leading to him getting fired.)

The real reason I can suggest that jobs are largely a choice are the recent additions to the Beetlejuice universe. I'm talking about Richard, Wolf Jackson, the Shrinkers, the Janitor and all of Wolf Jackson's squad, (plus a handful of others). They all have jobs, with some having more legitimate jobs than others.

This is where my theory really comes into play.

I think all of the above characters (possible with the exception of the Shrinkers) chose their jobs. Why? They have unfinished business - just as Barbara and Adam had unfinished business in Beetlejuice.

(Of course "they found a loophole and moved on" but this is more-so to explain their necessary absence in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. From a lore perspective, they could very well still be haunting the house for another 89 years. I (like many others now) believe the loophole was unfinished business. They had the family (Lydia) that they wanted all along and when she moved on with her life, they felt complete. Next stop: The Soul Train and The Great Beyond.)

When looking at these new characters, here's what I theorise for each of them:

Richard - Unfinished business: a family reunion. Richard died in the Amazon, away from Astrid and likely didn't get a proper goodbye. After saving her, thus seeing her once more, he could move on. It's possible too that he's not going to move on after Beetlejuice Beetlejuice due to waiting on more family to see again. But we don't know that, so I'll keep it short.

Wolf Jackson - Unfinished business: "keeping it real." Wolf Jackson seems slightly in denial about his situation. Janet has to continuously remind him that he in an actor because he gets too into the bit he's currently doing. I think the man gets completely convinced he is a spy/detective/investigator/whatever it is he is hyper-fixated on becoming. He's method, dedicated to his craft and won't move on until he feels he has fulfilled every cast-type possible for his range. He's gunning for a Gross-cer.

Wolf Jackson's squad (including Janet) - Unfinished business: supporting cast. Judging by how useless they all are, I'd hedge bets that they are actors too, waiting for their "big break" or recognition to feel satisfied with life (or death). In the Toonverse, celebrities are canon. If these universes are more aligned than previously thought, this could be a possibility.

The Shrinkers - Unfinished business: think big. These poor sods got on the wrong side of a witch doctor (although I really do think a certain B-man is to blame for this). We saw what happened when the portal to the living world opened. Those suckers saw a bid for freedom and went for it. I'd wager that they're somewhat forced to work for Betelgeuse. Maybe he's promised them 'head' (not that kind) if they do his dirty work. After all, he got his head back to normal size. Who's to say he hasn't promised them the same if they work for him? (Let's hope they read the fine print in that contract).

The Janitor - Unfinished business: a taste for revenge. To be honest, I think this guy either died by suicide or totally on accident. Either way, it was from ingesting something toxic. He's got a hankering for bleach and chemicals, who's to say this was just in death? I think he was content working in the afterlife, consuming these deadly toxins with zero repercussions.

Much of the same can be said for the Dry Cleaner. People need their clothes cleaned, he was good at it in life. Why not carry on if you're not ready to go?

Speaking of ready to go...

All aboard The Soul Train!

Another key point in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is that (aside from Astrid, who was semi-forced to board), The Soul Train is something you board when you're ready to depart. Maybe some people are forced here and there, as there are guards stationed, but we are also reassured that Hell is an option for those who do truly fucked up shit.

(It's worth noting also that The Soul Train has other stops. The Pearly Gates, Elysium and another stop (my memory fails), all of which were DELAYED. Time works differently in the afterlife; maybe some people get jobs because the wait is truly an eternity.)

WOW, you made far! Congratulations for enduring my ramblings, here's a beetle for your trouble 🪲

After all that, here's what we do know:

If you died within a certain radius of your home, you're left to haunt it for 125 years.

If you died by suicide (and if Otho is correct), you have to work for an unspecified amount of time as a civil servant in the afterlife.

If you died via a horrific accident (Wolf Jackson, Janet and Richard), jobs are there for you and you don't even need the credentials to back up your experience.

You cannot leave the afterlife unless you are confirmed "dead dead", board the soul train, attempt to swap souls with a living person or get sent to Hell.

In summary:

Jobs are available in the afterlife. There's no expectation to "work" but there's not much else to do. If you're not ready to leave the afterlife, (perhaps you're still processing death, waiting for loved ones to meet you on the other side or even enjoying the weird and wonderful atmosphere), why not get a job?

Well...unless you're forced into one by a horny poltergeist. But that's a whole other post.

But hey, what do I know? I'm only living.

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Chapter Seven

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @sirenetheblogger @a13x15a5133p @abcdontbotherme @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @leleunderscore06 @tinymonke @lonelybluesworld and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none

Previous Part: Chapter Six

Next Part: Chapter Eight

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

—-------------------------------------------------------

You balanced the boxes of donuts in one hand while you pulled open the door to the savannah exhibit open. Then, you slid inside, happily carrying the boxes through the heated exhibit. The heat was already causing beads of sweat to appear on your brow, so you made sure to hurry.

The hyenas were where they were the other day, by the waterfront, chatting animatedly between each other. At least, they were until Ruggie yelled “Hey!” and, in a storm of dust, raced over to meet you.

Ruggie stood in front of you, eyes gleaming, no signs of being afraid of you anymore, “You brought donuts!”

“Yes, I did promise you that I would!” you said with a laugh.

Ruggie wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on your stomach in a strange hug. You couldn’t really hug back with the donuts in your arms, but it made you smile all the same.

“What kind do you want?” you asked, opening the top box. Ruggie snatched up a chocolate frosted donut with rainbow sprinkles and plopped himself down on the dry grass below, chowing down on the donut without leaving time to breathe between bites.

“Slow down, Ruggie, you’re gonna choke,” you laughed, motioning for him to calm down. Ruggie looked up at you with a mouth full of donut and he looked so innocent you couldn’t help but melt a little. 

He tried to say something, but it was muffled by the chocolate in his mouth. He seemed to realize you couldn’t understand him, so he chewed, swallowed, and said, “All for me?”

“Nooo, everyone gets a donut,” you laughed, “You are not eating 36 donuts on your own.”

Ruggie pouted and continued to chomp on the rest of his donut. The other hyenas came up and each took their own donut. Once they were all finished, you picked up another chocolate sprinkled donut and handed it to Ruggie, “One for the road, hon.”

“Road? Hon?” Ruggie was confused, tilting his head at you as he tried to understand.

“It’s a phrase and a nickname,” you said, patting Ruggie’s fluffy hair gently, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ruggie leaned into your touch as he scarfed down the new donut. You waved goodbye to the hyenas, who all hesitantly gave you a little wave back, before heading across the savannah to the far end, where the lions laid.

“Hey guys!” you yelled, “Who wants donuts?”

No response. Oh well, you were used to that.

“Hey Leona, which donut would you like?” you asked the king of the savannah.

“I eat meat, not sweets,” he replied coldly.

“Have you ever had one before?” you asked coyly, “Or are you just trying to avoid me?”

Leona’s jaw hardened and, after a moment of glaring at you, he held out one hand with claws extended, “Give me a donut.”

“You have to pick which kind,” you explained, “There’s too many flavors.”

Leona growled, but he allowed you to open the box and show off its contents to him. Leona reached for a powder sugar donut and gasped in surprise when he saw his fingertips, “This donut! Its white covering sticks to your paws!”

You tried not to laugh, “Yeah, powder sugar gets everywhere, but it’s really good.”

Leona raised the donut to his mouth hesitantly. You smiled encouragingly and he tentatively took a bite. His eyes fluttered closed at the sweetness and he let out a pleased hum.

“Still don’t like sweets?” you teased.

“You were right, herbivore,” Leona conceded.

The lion halfling sat up on the rock and called out to the other lions, “Take one donut each! Do not be tempted to take more just because of their sweet flavor.”

“Thanks, Leona” you said, turning the box so the other lions could see. One by one, they each took a donut.

You watched them eat (and Leona lick powdered sugar off of his claws) for a while before you realized the sun was starting to go down. You bid them goodbye, not realizing that Leona’s eyes followed you until you were out of sight, licking his lips both from the powdered sugar and the predatory instincts he felt around you.

You finally left the hot savannah and headed for the wolf exhibit. A little girl came up to you and asked if she could have a donut. “Of course you can!” you said cheerfully, letting her pick from the leftovers.

From his perch not far away, Leona’s eyes narrowed, one thought going through his head until you disappeared into the wolf exhibit. You would make a good mother.

Unaware of Leona’s dark thoughts, you walked through the wolf exhibit. You barely made it a few feet when the wolves popped out from their places behind the trees.

“What do you want with us?” one of the wolves snarled, “You keep returning!”

“I’m a researcher,” you explained calmly, “I have to come back, that’s my job.”

“What’s that you’ve got there?” another wolf demanded to know.

“Donuts!” you said happily, opening up the box and showing it to the halflings. Disgusted, they backed away into the shadows without another word. You sat down on a tree stump, disappointed by their reaction.

“Donuts,” a gruff voice said. You instantly brightened when you realized Jack had stuck around.

“Yes, would you like one?” you asked. He nodded and sat down in the grass next to you, taking a random donut from the box without really looking. His eyes lit up at the flavor and he began devouring it like a man starved.

Pretty soon the both of you decided to split the remaining dozen. You both chowed down and, by the time it was over, you felt like your stomach may burst. Even so, you and Jack smiled at each other.

“Frosting,” Jack said, shyly reaching out his thumb to brush away some crumbs on your lips. He leaned in close and, for a moment, you thought he was about to kiss you. Instead, he nuzzled your cheek affectionately. You wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from it.

Jack placed a gentle kiss on your temple and your face grew even warmer. “I… um… I should probably get going.”

It wasn’t just an excuse- it really was getting dark outside. Jack backed away with a nod and escorted you to the exhibit door. You gave him a pat on the head and he melted into the action, sighing softly at the feeling of your hand on his white hair.

Then, without further ado, you headed on home to write your notes out. A special about lions was playing on TV.

“When a female is in heat, she will mate with a male from any pride, and they will stay together for three or four days. During this time, they will mate every 20–30 minutes, with up to 50 copulations per 24 hours.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, “That’s crazy. I’m glad I’m not a lion.”

[harrowharkwife]

i'm so used to there just being random unidentified bones laying around everywhere in these damn books that it finally occurred to me, just now, to wonder where the bones on new rho came from. y'know, the bones palamedes always tried to teach nona necromancy on.

they're his.

palamedes, who always loved teaching, living on borrowed time in a body that's not his own. palamedes, mentoring, teaching- parenting, by sixth standards, mind you. and that boy is sixth, through and through.

and the entire point of teaching nona necromancy in the first place was to try and determine if nona is, well, nonagesimus, right? so it has to be bones, it can't not be bones. bones are, like, her whole thing.

but they're not in the nine houses, anymore. things are different, on new rho.

they burn bones here. dig up the cemeteries. a society terrified of zombies will evolve to dispose of its dead differently.

the only bones he has access to now are his own. (camilla wouldn't let anyone take them- skull or hand, doesn't matter. they're still him, and she doesn't let go, remember? it's her one thing.)

palamedes woke up every morning wearing someone else's body to then gently place the shrapnel of his own in the cupped palms of a girl who's the closest thing he'll ever have to a daughter and try to teach her- how did the angel put it, again? normal school, as much as possible, for as long as possible.

(but hey, in a roundabout way, at least it's a chance for him to touch camilla again, right? nevermind that she's not there to feel any of it because he's in the driver's seat, that he can only stay for fifteen minutes at a time. it's atoms that belong to camilla touching atoms that used to belong to him, and that's close enough. he'll take what he can get, these days- if she can be their flesh, he can be the end. so what if holding his own bones is a mindfuck? so what if looking at them makes him nauseous? surely he can suck it up and deal with it for fifteen minutes. it's the least he can do— his poor camilla was the one who had to scrape the bloody pulp of them off the floors of canaan house.)

(speaking of, here's a fun fact: we actually only see nona practicing with the bones one time, on-page. camilla's final line in that scene, before palamedes takes over, is none other than: 'keep going. there are some bones left.' ow!)

remember, too, that the only part of dulcinea, the real dulcinea, that palamedes ever physically touched, was her tooth- the one that ianthe gave him, pulled from the ashes cytherea burnt her down to. he only ever touched dulcie once, and it wasn't until after she was already gone, but that doesn't matter- it still happened, and you can't take loved away.

in this same roundabout, bittersweet, by-proxy sort of way, palamedes has been physically touched by nona, too: the atoms she currently occupies, touching atoms that he used to occupy, and never will again.

the main interaction we've seen between palamedes and his mother took place back on the sixth, with her acting as mentor and him as pupil: the two of them studying a set of hand bones, juno encouraging him every step of the way.

we know that harrowhark's "most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding harrow's over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of harrow's wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique."

they're still small for a nineteen year old, but the wrists are bigger, in this new set of memories nona's making. and it's not an inexpertly rendered portion of skull anymore- it's a hand, now, albeit one crafted from [a piece of skull reassembled (painstakingly—passionately—laboriously reassembled) from fragments, manually, and not by a bone magician, from the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded.] and the identity and origin of these bones is no mystery at all. they belong to palamedes, and he's consented to their use for this purpose, and that matters.

but the details are just set dressing, really. the foundation of the memory is the same.

palamedes and his mother, juno and her son.

harrow and her mother; pelleamena and her daughter.

nona and her father-mother-teacher; palamedes and his daughter.

[newluvrs]

Anton ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: JUNO - CHOKER word count: 1.8k

“is this okay?”  

The room is hazy from the glow of your bedside lamp, the smell of weed perforating your room as a result of your shitty roommate hotboxing your apartment last night.  Your hoody is pushed up over your hips at present, everything feels sticky and hot from too much body contact with too many layers of clothing on.  The sheets are kicked down by your feet, your legs at present hanging over Anton’s shoulders.  His lips are all swollen, having spent the last half an hour lip locked with you.  At this point in your relationship(?) neither of you had gone past make outs coupled with grinding and feeling each other up.  When he started to kiss down your body you felt nervous, but your need to be touched screamed louder than any doubt in your brain.  

“Please.”  

You know Anton asked for reassurance more for himself rather than you, his own nerves and excitement getting to him.  It was one of the first things you had noticed about him, and something you adored, how he could be simultaneously awkward and self-assured.  Like he didn’t need validation from anyone, but he so badly wanted yours.  

“please what?”  

Okay now he was just fucking with you.  

“Anton.”

“I was only joking..”  

He flashes you his boyish half-smile, pulling your sweats off as he does so.  His hair is all fucked up from his beanie and the amount of times you’ve ran your hands through it in the last half-hour.  You can only imagine your own hair looking mussed as well.  But none of this matters when he settles between your legs at the end of your bed, face to face with your boy shorts.  He glances at them, then at you, half-amused half extremely turned on.  

“Sorry if you were expecting lace.”  You let out a scoff, trying to hide how vulnerable you feel right now.  Now you really were thinking to yourself maybe you should have dug out your nice underwear, the ones reserved specifically for situations like this.  

When he doesn’t answer, you look away from him, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling.  It’s quiet for what feels like too long to you.  Neither of you making a sound, the only thing playing in the room being your playlist accurately titled “music to kiss boys too.”  You’re starting to feel really fucking awkward, even with the heavy bass of the current song thrumming through your body. 

“Anton-“ 

Your cut off by your own gasp when you feel him lick you through your shorts.  His arms are wrapped around your legs, helping you hold them up.  He bites the inside of your thigh, making you buck your hips towards his face.  

“you’re so pretty, and you don’t even have to do anything.”  

He stares at you now, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

“you could wear a trashbag and I would still think you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”  

You turn away from him again, a blush taking over you.  You can’t remember the last time you felt shy, it’s always you who makes him feel flustered.   Showering him in compliments endlessly about how cute you think he is.  How hot you think he looks doing simple everyday things.  You liked watching the way he stumbled over his words after, his face turning a pretty shade of pink.  You didn’t ever feel like you needed compliments, or at least you never voiced your need for them.  But now, laying here under him, it’s all you want to hear.  

His fingers dip under your shorts, groaning when he comes into contact with your wet heat.  Your hips shift in his hold, trying to move closer to that single touch.  He giggles at this, pulling his hand from your boxers. 

When you open your mouth to complain he finally gives you what you want, putting his mouth back on your cunt.  The material thin enough for you to feel his tongue prodding at you.  It’s taking you everything to restrain yourself from fucking up into his face.  Especially when he starts sucking on your clit.  Your hips jerk up, your hands balled into fists and coming up to grab at your pillows, resisting the urge to pull his hair.  

“Fuck, Anton please.”  

Your voice is so whiney, a breathless edge to it.  He pulls off of you briefly, bringing one of his hands to thumb at your clit as he speaks.  

“What is it baby?”  

When you look back down at him, you realize his hoody is also still on, making this whole thing look hotter but also making you wonder why you’re the only one half-naked.  

“I- fuck, please.”

He’s still rubbing at your clit, making it hard for you to talk, upping the speed when you open your mouth to speak.  You know that he knows this, and you know that he thinks this whole thing is fucking hilarious but god you just want more so bad right now you don’t even care.  He decides to throw you a bone.  

“Want me to pull your shorts off?”

You’re so embarrassed right now, all you can do is whine, covering your face as you nod your head.  

“Sorry, what was that?”  

He mumbles this into the side of your thigh, trying to hide the shit-eating grin adorning his face right now.  You feel like you’re going crazy.  

“Anton, I swear to god-“

“I’ll pull them off if you admit you look sexy in them.” 

His request throws you off-guard, he speaks up again as he takes in the confused look on your face.  

“All you have to do is say that you think you’re sexy.” 

“you can’t be serious.”  

When he stares back at you incredulously you realize he is in fact serious.  

“okay i’m sexy, now pull them off.”  

He tsks, rolling his eyes as he moves to pull his hand away from you.  You could scream you’re so frustrated.

“please just take them off.”  

“not until you give me what I want.”

Before you can protest he goes back to lapping at your clit through your panties, the fabric starting to turn obscenely wet from the combination of his spit and your juices.  You toss your head back, hands scrambling against the sheets now, the sudden stimulation overwhelming.  You look down at him again, noticing for the first time how he humps against the mattress as he goes down on you.  You whine out his name again, pleading with him to give you what you want already.  

“Sorry baby, I can’t hear you.”  He mumbles into your pussy.  

It’s just not enough, its everything and its so much but its not enough.  Your hands fly to his hair now, unable to stop yourself from humping his face.  In between your whines you could swear you hear him let out a ‘cute’.  Desperation overtakes you, fueled by the need to get off. 

“’m sexy.”  

You say it so quietly he can barely hear over the obscene sounds of his mouth sucking on wet fabric.  

“baby?”  

He glances up at you, and he nearly cums in his sweats right there.  Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks pink with your hair all fucked up, whimpering as you still have a grip on him, trying to fuck your hips up into his face as he pulls off of you.  

“I look so sexy….”  

You sound embarrassed as you say it still, but it’s good enough for him, just happy to have you look so fucked out and shy just because of him. 

He sits up briefly to pull his sweats down to his knees before he finally, finally, pulls off your boy shorts.  It’s obscene the way they stick to your cunt, completely drenched from the previous activities.  For the second time tonight, Anton nearly cums again just from finally seeing your pussy.  He spares a glance at your face and you just look dazed and breathless, too needy to be touched to think of anything else.  

He settles back between your legs, letting out a groan at the way his cock feels through the thinner material against the mattress.  He runs a thumb against your clit once, just to see the way it throbs when he pulls away.  

“s’cute.”  

He plants an opened mouth kiss to your cunt, not even complaining when you move your hands back to rest in his hair, gently guiding his mouth back to your pussy.  You could cry when you finally feel his tongue come into direct contact with your clit, letting out an obscene moan into the thick air.  From there the two of you fall into a steady rhythm, you humping against his face as he humps against your sheets, both dazed and mesmerized by the other, just watching.  When he brings two fingers to your entrance, you’re so wet theres hardly any resistance when he slides them in.  You cry out as he crooks them up, pushing and pulling them slowly in and out of you.  He’s gentle as he does it, just petting your insides, feeling the way you squeeze around him.  He pulls away from your clit to rest a cheek on the inside of your thigh, just watching his fingers stroke in and out, watching the way you cling to them not wanting to let him go.  

“anton.”

“mm.” 

“m’gonna cum.”  

He smiles at this, moving to suck on your clit again with an “okay baby.”  

You cum exactly like that, watching your boyfriend fuck your mattress as he presses against that gummy spot inside you, lapping at your clit.  When the stimulation becomes too much for your tired body you push his head away from between your legs.  He moves away from your cunt to rest his head on your thigh, just staring up at you with starry eyes as he speeds up his movement against the mattress.  You reach to bring his hand up to your face, sticking your tongue out to suck on the fingers that were previously inside you.  He lets out a full body shiver, groaning and cumming as soon as you wrap your lips around his fingers.  

“so sexy y/n,  pretty baby.”  

When his hips still, you both lie there, catching your breath.  In the midst of your panting you notice your playlist keeps looping on a single song, you wonder to yourself how many times its played before you noticed.  Quietly, so quietly you can barely hear yourself, you ask.

“you really think I’m pretty?”  

You’re looking away again, trying to come off as nonchalant to ward off the vulnerability.  You hear shuffling from the edge of your bed.  Then his hands are gentle on your chin, pulling you in for a kiss.  This one is sweeter than any of the ones before, his mouth gentle against yours, fingers delicately placed on the sides of your face to keep you in place.  When he pulls away, he leaves one more kiss on your forehead.  

“the prettiest.”  

[1-800-c3dr1c]

hiii, i have a request if they're openn

for luke castellan, a smut. he finds reader riding his pillow and mayne punish her? and he's a mean!dom

LUKE CASTELLAN SMUT ONESHOT.

submissive! reader. dominant! luke castellan. mean! luke castellan. female reader. reader is shorter than luke. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). pillow humping/riding. unprotected sex. overstimulation. (lmk if i forgot anything)! ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to luke castellan under this post or in my inbox, as well!

i hope you like this, anon!! (and anyone else reading ofc), let me know what you think! <3 this is also my first time writing for luke, so hopefully i do him some justice!

taglist : @ayoitsmarie33 @junos-web

while luke castellan was busy playing capture the flag and most likely winning, you were busy with something else. quiet whimpers left your parted lips as you struggled to keep yourself quiet, sitting on your boyfriend’s bed and grinding against his pillow for at least a bit of friction. you wanted something else in its entirety, but for now, you’d have to settle for this. your shorts discarded and your panties pushed to the side, your cunt leaking and begging for anything, especially from the boy you loved.

it was a shame that he wasn’t here, and you were strongly feeling the affect of his absence. covering your mouth with one hand, you used the other to support yourself.

“be quiet, dove.” that oh-so familiar voice startled you, your head snapping around as you instantly paused in your movements.

luke castellan, shed of the armor you’d seen him in just before the start of the capture the flag game, stood just a few feet behind you. his arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“luke-” you started, in a futile attempt to explain what was going on without getting yourself in trouble.

“i know,” he leaned forward, tracing your jaw with a hand. “needed some release, hm? when the fuck will you learn?” his eyes darkened after the last sentence, a tint of anger laced in his tone. “my cock is the only thing that can make you cum. what the fuck do i have to do to make you understand that?” he spat in your face, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “nasty girl.” he drawled.

“wait, no, ‘m sorry!” you gasped, falling back onto his bed with a squeak.

“you’re sorry? sorry doesn’t fucking cut it. you should know that by now. you’re fucking pathetic.”

his words sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes tightly.

“what the fuck have i said about not looking at me?” he instantly questioned, scoffing at you.

“t- to never close my eyes,” you whispered back, hesitantly letting your eyes flutter open.

he loomed above you, a cocky smirk on his face. “i think you should be punished.”

“wh- what?” you stammered, eyes widening.

“you fuckin’ heard me. how ‘bout i fuck you ‘til you’re dumb and all you can think about is my cock? bet that’s all you could think about when gettin’ off on this stupid pillow. the pillow doesn’t know your body, i do. so what the fuck made you think a fucking pillow could get you off?” he laughed in your face.

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry!” you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together for friction. gods, he was being so cruel.

“you should be sorry. fuckin’ say it like you mean it.” he hissed out.

“i do!! i do mean it!” you whined.

“no you don’t.” is all he said before he leaned forward, kissing you so feverishly that any reply you may have had on your tongue was instantly melted away, just by how hot and desperate the kiss was.

you’d barely even realized—half-conscious just by his kisses alone—that he’d already taken off his pants, and was in the process of removing his boxers. when you did, your breath hitched.

“please..” you begged, wanting so desperately to tangle your fingers in his hair. however, due to your hands being restrained, you couldn’t.

“only good girls get what they want. you’re far from a good girl, dove.” he responded lowly.

“i’ll be a good girl, promise!” you were nearly blabbering, and he hadn’t even touched you.

“yeah, y’will?” it was almost as if you could feel the way he didn’t believe you. this was nothing new, after all. you claimed you’d be good, if only for tonight. and then you went back to being a fucking brat. despite that, you were his fucking brat. only his.

you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. he nearly smiled, finding your tears so, so pretty. “gonna cry, dove? go ahead. cry all you want. next thing, y’know, you’ll only be crying out my name and how you want me to stop fucking you,” he whispered, mouth now by your ear. “but we both know you’d be lying to the both of us.”

you swallowed, watching his expression. “nuh-uh..” you mumbled, wanting to look away. but you knew the rules. keep your eyes on him the entire time.

“yuh-uh,” he shot back, grinning at you. not a nice grin, no—one that told you that you were about to be fucked. literally, and figuratively speaking.

with his hot and bothered cock free from the confines of his boxers, he didn’t hesitate. lining himself up with your sopping cunt, not even needing to prep you due to how much slick was running out of your pussy and down your thighs, it was enough to make sure any pain you might have felt would be washed away almost instantly. he slid in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“fuck.. luke!” you cried, already shaking. you were overstimulated due to the fact of you trying to get off on his pillow, and he knew as such. did he care? absolutely not. that only made him want to fuck into you so much more, to the point where you’d try to claw at his back and beg him to stop.

“shh,” he cooed, laughing in your face. “you can take it, you stupid girl. you’re just a hole for me to fill, yeah?” there was a glint in his eyes, something that told you he’d be far from done. you were practically gushing around his cock like a bitch in heat (his words, not your own) and he adored it.

“mhm!!” you nodded frantically, whining as you blabbered incoherently about how much you needed this. which was true, you had desperately needed this.

“fuuucckk,” he groaned, his thrusts speeding up. you gasped, trembling already. “mine. all fuckin’ mine. you know that, huh? don’t ever try to get pleasure from something that isn’t my cock, that isn’t my fingers, that isn’t my mouth. that’s all you’ll ever be pleasured by- fuck- and we both know it.” he leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss to keep you quiet, your tongues in a battle for dominance—one you were obviously going to lose—and tangling with each other like this was your purpose.

“gonna cum, gonna-” you sobbed, gulping in large portions of air as you panted.

“c’mon, dove. be a good girl..” he grunted, “let me hear you.” he added, and you swore you could feel him. all of him, filling you to the absolute brim.

and fuck, did it feel so good. so much so, you clenched around his cock immediately, milking him for all he was worth as you came with a half-concealed scream, cut off by the way he shoved his fingers into your mouth to keep anyone from hearing you. your sounds were for his ears only, after all.

he stilled inside of you for a second, eyes half-lidded. your chest was rising and falling quickly, your cheeks tear-stained and puffy. “no more..” you choked out, knowing that he hadn’t cum yet himself.

“aw, i can’t do that. i haven’t cum, dove. you can take it all, right?”

[luxthestrange]

Beastars Incorrect Quotes#36 Losers~

This is a song I feel resonates with...Pretty much Louis, Pina, Bill,Riz, Legos-But imagine singing this to the club members... herbivores and carnivores...

Y/n*After seeing and hearing everyone's pasts...while others were piece of work, You look at your clubmates, You sighs and stand on the stage*...

So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall and Can't face the world proudly and dopeless~

You've lost your way, ya think your life is wrecked Well, let me just say you're correct~

Louis*Is sitting down, feeling the worst then eyes widen confused at you* Wait, what?

Y/n*Smirking at him taking dancing steps back with a beat In your step,making a "L" with your finger on your forehead and looking at everyone* You're a loser, baby A loser, goddamn, baby You're a fucked up little whiny bitch~

Lous*Offended seeing you dance around him mocking him* Hey!

Y/n*Dancing around Bill now with a smirk* You're a loser, just like me~

Bill*Rolling eyes and gives you the bird* Thanks, asshole

Y/n*Smilling as you twirl Juno and making a "crazy" finger at Riz You're a screws loose Loser An only one-star reviews-er

Y/n*Twerking and laying dramatically in the floor pointing at Pina*You're a power-bottom at rock bottom But you got company~

Drama Club: This supposed to make me/Us feel better?!

Y/n*Looking at your own reflection and thinking about your past of your own past...and traumas* There was a time I thought no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight! We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich

Louis*Looking at his own hands at all the damage and hurt he caused others from his less-than-ethical deeds and now people close to him and what he did...just to survive for his father*...I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak -

Y/n*Snickers at that and raises a brow at him, Holding a hand out for him to take to spin him around gleefully and patting his cheek...then rolls eyes* Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!~ We're both losers, baby We're losers, it's okay to be a~

As everyone stated their own truth about themselves

Y/n*Getting close to Juno with a smile* Baby, that's fine by me~

Juno*Smiles and starts to get into the groove and proudly singing* I'm a loser, honey~ A schmoozer and a dummy But at least I know I'm not alone~

You then finally reach Legoshi and hold your hand out for him to grab...which he does as you pull him into the light

Both of you in harmony: You're a loser, Just like me~

Legoshi*Leans on your back and looks at you affectionately* You're a loser, baby~

Y/n: A loser, but just maybe if we~

Both of you: Eat shit together, things will end up differently

Y/n*Both of you start to dance in each other's arms as you sing to him your feelings* It's time to lose your self-loathin' Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby Play your card, be who you are~

Legoshi*Swinging with you and stepping on beat*OOOoooooh~

Both of you holding each other's hands as you gaze into each other's eyes: A loser, just like meeeee!~

[waters-and-the-wilde]

okay i was thinking about. the way Juno and Nureyev think. like the way their minds complement each other is just so goddamn neat to me.

(I've touched on something like this before in my 'Nureyev's coping mechanisms backfiring when misapplied' post, the bit about 'Juno’s intelligence is geared toward gathering clues and then assembling narratives, getting good insight checks and putting together a bigger picture that Nureyev has trained himself out of being able to see. they’re both very good at reading people but Nureyev’s strength is being quick on his feet and handling people and situations in the moment while Juno is good at mapping people’s inner landscapes and motivations')

and now another thing that strikes me about Juno's whole detective brain thing is the way his knowledge and memory is incredibly interconnected and associative, the way little pieces crop up in his mind and he knows they're important but not necessarily why, and has to hang onto them until he can see how they fit. The way he basically lives for his 'I connected the dots!!!' moments. he doesn't seem to have the same command over recall the way Nureyev does -- Nureyev's being extremely deliberate and structured, whereas Juno's pattern recognition and responses to prompts and triggers look a lot more instinctive, even if it's just that the way he works has allowed that talent to flourish

And from there you have an equally fascinating contrast in how heavily Nureyev also relies on his knowledge and memory, and yet his method hinges on that ability to compartmentalize, and how the the pieces stay extremely discrete. it's like. Nureyev's constantly putting shit away in filing cabinets, and Juno's constantly leaving stuff around all the time because How Else Would He Know Where It Is, it'll be there when he needs it

and then that leads to fascinating stuff like Nureyev's knowledge being incredibly precise yet fragmented, very purposefully weighed and deployed in the scenario he knows how to apply it to. and how that catches him off the back foot so spectacularly in Man In Glass by relegating useful context as extraneous so thoroughly he literally dissociates it. In Juno's case, the way he can see how things relate to each other backfires on him when he gets carried away, jumps to conclusions without necessarily having the groundwork/evidence/ability to show his work and back it up

ALSO. jury's out on how much Nureyev has actually considered whether his 'focus on the guard not the queen' mentality was shooting himself in the foot before Man In Glass but. something something Train From Nowhere 'i trust your eyes, for a start. and I trust your mind! a master detective's' etc. I get the sense that he recognizes what Juno does as a strength and a complementary skill (at least initially/on an instinctive level/when he's at his best. obv there's still him getting stuck on his Rules of Thieving/forgetting to listen/getting condescending and dismissive under stress but i think that sorta highlights the whole point that they're at their best when they're confident in that trust in each other.)

(also given the CMP heist it's not exactly just Nureyev and I kinda have to wonder if maybe the Aurinkos have Juno's jumping to conclusions tendency work great sometimes and then backfire a bunch of others so they can't always let him have a full head of steam at a precarious moment. i know i've seen ppl get frustrated about that bit and like yes it is a frustrating device but it still strikes me as different from the way that sort of thing is usually deployed, in that it has plenty of plausible grounding in the characterization and communication styles)

like yes i'm a simple man i go bonkers for them being competent at their chosen skills but 'we work well together' is such a cornerstone of their relationship and the way their minds are so different and dovetail so effectively is just. the drift compatibility is built into their psyches and it's absolutely *chef's kiss*

[gayou01]

Astrology observations I made pt 24

DISCLAIMER- Placements will not play out the same way for everyone and having challenging placements + aspects does not mean that you are a bad person or that you will have a bad life. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t

-if you have an ascendant ruled by Mercury (Gemini and Virgo), it probably didn’t take very long for your mom to birth you. You were out within a few hours

-Sagittarius ascendants tend to be of tall stature, or have a slender figure and long torso which gives the illusion of height. Or they’re short and real thicc

-Scorpio moons tend to lie by omission. They’ll tell you half the truth while keeping the rest of it to themselves, mostly because they personally feel like it’s none of your business anyway and knowing something you don’t gives them a sense of control

-at best Aquarius moons have a relationship with their mom where they see her more as an equal than a disciplinarian. Because of that relationship dynamic, they tend to be more comfortable having certain conversations with their mom that would usually be awkward or difficult to have with one’s parents

-at worst, Aquarius moons see their mother as someone very detached that can’t be bothered to get to know their child on an intimate level. They feel like they are given so much freedom that they might as well have not had a parent

-having the saturn square Jupiter aspect can indicate having to work hard for everything you have and actually chasing your luck. Or at least feeling like you have to jump through hoops to get the good things you want/deserve while everyone else gets it all handed to them

-Lilith in the 7th house in a mutable sign (specifically gemini) can indicate craving companionship when you’re single but then wanting to run away once you finally have someone by your side.

-challenging aspects between Lilith and Venus can indicate extreme jealousy and wanting complete control of your partner to the point where it can get dangerous (especially if mars and pluto are also involved)

-Juno in the 11th house can indicate marrying someone that was once a friend of yours, or somebody who grew up in the same community as you (like someone from your school, church etc)

-Chiron in the 11th house house can sometimes indicate having trouble seeing/believing that you actually bring joy to peoples lives and that many of the people around you actually want you around. The trauma behind that is the native being made to feel like a nuisance all the time just for existing

[parkerdoeswriting]

I’m in Love With How You Feel

(TASM!Peter x PregTeen!Reader)

category: fluff oneshot

summary: preggo teen!reader and peter discuss baby and living situations

warnings: (teen) pregnancy, reader is written to be afab but is referred in neutral terms

word count: 0.8k

A/N: im lowkey tempted to make this like a just teeny tiny series with two or three more parts so if that’s something at least one person wants to see I will write it

pt 2 to Anyone Else But You, but you don’t gotta read it to understand this

“Hello goober” Peter coos into your bump, pressing small kisses to the surface of it.

“Goober?” you laugh, ruffling his hair.

He smiles dorkishly at you, his hands caressing your bump.

You’ve been pregnant for around 5 months, and ever since then, Peter could not keep his hands off your stomach. He tried not to touch it during school, so as to not drag attention to it, but you were getting to the point where your bump showed against your baggy sweaters.

You managed to somehow inform your parents of the news, and thankfully they didn’t kill you on the spot. They were upset at you and Peter of course, but they noticed how happy you two were and so they supported you both, and were excited to meet their future grandchild.

Then next was May, Aunt May. Peter felt better telling her about the baby then you were telling your parents. You can still see her expression when you both told her of the situation, a mix of shock and pure joy. Her arms wrapping around you both to give you a soul crushing bear hug.

“Are you staying the night?” you ask him, your hands resting on your bump gently.

“Mhm, never gonna leave you” he mumbles against your belly.

You chuckle softly at his words, petting his hair as he practically clings to you.

“You’re gonna have to go home eventually” you remark, making little ponytails in his hair.

“Nope, gonna bring you with me” he smirks cheekily at you, sitting up so he can wrap you up in his arms.

“That reminds me actually, when I do give birth, are you gonna visit a lot?” you ask, rubbing your bump.

“Well.. I was hoping we could live together so I can help at night” he says, pressing small kisses to your cheek.

“Like- get an apartment?!” you tilt your head in confusion.

“Mhm, I’m starting a job soon so I’ll start getting some sort of income” he plays with your hair.

“I don’t know if we can even rent- cause we aren’t eighteen yet..” you sigh, frowning softly.

He sighs as well as he looks up at you, his lower lip jutting out. It’s been hard figuring out what you should both do after the birth of the baby, Peter doesn’t want to leave you to be the carer the majority of the time, and you don’t want him to miss out on his education, which has caused a small strain in your relationship.

“Well, we could either do like a week here and a week at my place, or I could spend all my nights here? I’m sure May would understand” he offers sweetly, reaching for your hand.

“I kinda like the idea of a week there and a week here, we could do that after a couple weeks after this demon is born” You giggle at my joke, putting his hands back on your bump.

As if on cue, the baby kicks against your stomach. Peter’s eyes widen as he looks at you in shock, laughing softly.

“Our little demon” he leans in to kiss you, his thumbs rubbing circles on your bump.

“We still gotta figure out names” you whisper to him, looking down at your bump.

“Stinker if it’s a boy, stinkerette if it’s a girl” he chuckles.

“Stop fooling around” you laugh back, messing his hair up.

“Fine, what do you think we should name ‘em?” he reaches for your hair in return, giving it a quick mess up.

“Dunno, was thinking maybe Juno for a girl?” you giggle mischievously.

“We are not naming our child after that movie” he laughs, planting his face back into your bump.

“Oh come on.. it’s a very beautiful name” you pout.

He shakes his head, his nose brushing against your belly. You scoff playfully at him, shifting your body so you’re lying on your back.

“Noo.. don’t move” he mumbles, trying to hold you in place.

“Just laying down Pete” you stretch out, yawning.

“You sleepy?” his head pops up.

“Always” you chuckle at your little joke.

He moves his face from your bump up to your face as he lays next to you, paying attention to you. He cups your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. It was all like some sort of routine of his, he’d spend time making sure the baby felt loved and cared for, and then made sure his baby felt loved and cared for as well.

“Love you” he mumbles assuringly, staring deep into your eyes.

You blush, leaning into his touch, cupping his hands with yours.

“Love you too” you smile, yawning again.

He moves on his side, his body pressing against your sides as he lays his leg over yours, snuggling his head into the crook of your neck. You know he won’t fall asleep until you do, but it doesn’t matter. You slowly feel yourself fade into dreamland, the stress from the pregnancy dripping away with each second you let yourself succumb.

[talonabraxas]

Sun in Gemini II (5/30 – 6/10 2024) The middle decan of Gemini is called the Hermaphrodite, after a child of Hermes and Aphrodite, who bore the external and internal genitalia of both men and women in their own body.

According to one story of Hermaphrodite, found in Ovid, he was a remarkable beautiful young man of extraordinary gracefulness and easiness of manner. A naiad, or water-spirit named Salamis observed him bathing one day, and jumped into the pool to fondle the youth who was too young to understand or consent to these advances. She tried to have her way with him, either through rape or seduction; yet the boy resisted, and Salmacis cried aloud her wish — to be united with this boy forever. A passing god, hearing her prayer, solemnly knitted them into one being — and Hermaphrodite became a god in themselves, a god of the unified masculine and feminine. They blessed — or cursed? — the spring in such a way that anyone else who bathed there would be similarly transformed.

Other accounts suggest that Hermaphrodite was an androgynous figure from birth. Roman theologians attributed the birth of human hermaphrodites to the influence of Hermaphrodite and their father Hermes’ influence. “Serious” scholars of natural history noted that hermaphroditic births were rare but regarded as significant omens of the future, while satirical authors made hermaphrodites into funny figures worthy of derision. Whether by alchemical change in a pool or divine birth, the Greeks and Romans depicted Hermaphrodite with both female breasts as well as penis and scrotum in naked depictions; I’m not aware of a statue that also shows a vagina — but it’s possible. Despite Ovid’s account connecting Hermaphrodite’s origins to female-on-male sexual assault, this boy-girl deity was highly sensualized and sexualized in Roman fresco and statuary, and was considered to be the patron of marriage. Since they united in themselves both the masculine and feminine, their feast day (the fourth of every month) was considered highly auspicious for weddings in many community around the Roman Mediterranean.

And Hermaphrodite stood in contrast to another figure, far more terrifying to the ancient Romans — that of Magna Mater, the Great Mother Cybele. She had been carried into Rome in procession in the form of a Black Stone that was said to have fallen from heaven — and she was placed in the porch of the temple of Capitoline Jupiter in the heart of the city during the Second Punic War, and spiritually married to Jupiter as the principal god of the Romans, an extra consort to be recognized alongside Juno. Her high priestess and priestesses were not scions of Rome, either, but foreigners from Phrygia in what is now Turkey — and there is symbolic evidence that Cybele had been worshipped there in some form since at least 6000 BCE. Even more than the women priestesses wielding significant power in the cult of the Great Mother, though, were the strange and androgyne priests of Cybele — eunuchs all — who had voluntarily allowed themselves to be castrated in service to the Mother. The Roman Senate, with the same kind of shrill horror that some modern US senators reserve for anti-immigration screeds, forbade any Roman man from joining the cult of Cybele as anything other than an observer.

So, here, in miniature, echoing from twenty-two centuries before our own time, we find some of the same kinds of strange dismay and fear of foreign customs, alchemical-medical recreations of the mortal frame, and ancient powers that do not seem to belong to “the modern rational world” —and yet do. Public officials have no trouble vilifying transgender people, and comedians satirize them, and preachers sermonize about the way they warn us that dire changes are coming. And yet, the presence of transgender people in the world is unnecessarily sexualized, their romance is celebrated (both their actual relationship lives and the fantasies we spin about their lives), and their presence in a community is a remarkable signpost (and perhaps talisman) that points to tolerance, diversity, and healthy community norms.

And maybe we react with such a strange mix of hope, unease, joy, and concern around transgender persons today, for the same reasons the Romans did — they’re proof that Mother Nature can bring forth a far vaster range of possibilities and potentials into the world, than our allegedly rational minds can understand. The Great Mother is truly greater, and more awe-inspiring, than we can conceive — and patriarchy has little choice but to bow down to her revelation.

Maybe that’s one of the key messages of Gemini more generally, and of The Hermaphrodite specifically. We humans want to control a lot of things: the wind, Mother Nature, the structure of sex and gender, what are the acceptable desires of flesh and heart — and Cybele and Hermaphrodite both say, “Terribly sorry, but those are not in your power to rule.”

The Dodeks of Gemini II are Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Capricorn — and they also tell this complex story of dualities turning into uncontrollable multiplicities. Libra indicates a balance between two — this exactly equals that. But Scorpio is the many-handed monster of desire, carrying both healing and poison in its stinger. Sagittarius is the human, the divine, the technical, the feral and animalistic, all wrapped up in a strange hybridized package. Capricorn is the fish caught in the moment of chan into a goat — a reminder that evolution is ongoing, for sure; but also suggesting the Egyptian crocodile, 250 million years old and counting, reminding us that there are forms of nature far more enduring and steady than ourselves. --Wanderings in the Labyrinth

Hermaphrodite in Dreams Johfra Bosschart

[teecupangel]

So, got another idea. XD What if we take the Monster Hunter asks and the giant snake asks and combine them? XD Dalamandur!Desmond's here to fuck up Templars and save lives!

And since Dalamandur is so huge and his roar summons meteors, Desmond speaks telephaticly to his ancestor/dream shares with them?

Idk if there's stories of giant snakes or snakes in general in 11th century Syria, so idk how Altaïr would react to having dreams of a mountain sized snake talking to him. XD And the snake is weirdly encouraging and tries to tell him to befriend Kadar and Malik more.

Ezio would probably take these dreams as a symbol of the Devil tempting him or something bad, considering the snake tempting Eve to sin is in the Bible. Especially since the snakes tells him he needs to follow it's advice, otherwise his family will die. XD Desmond just worried, because he slept really long and Ezio looks to be 17 and he has no idea what month it is.

Idk about Ratonhnhaké:ton, this is just a quick idea. XD

Here’s Dalamunder (all images from monsterhunter.fandom.com) for those unfamiliar with how the monster look like.

Okay, first of all.

Dalamunder is so big calling it huge is an understatement XD

So I propose Desmond starts off as a baby snakie during Altaïr’s time. And by baby, we all mean he’s already as big as the average size of an adult healthy snake. He also starts learning how to speak telepathically with Altaïr during this time and it all started when the supposed Ark broke apart during the scuffle (with Altaïr distracted by a voice in his head calling his name) and pops the snake.

… that immediately ate whatever was inside the treasure they were ordered to retrieve (steal).

From there, Desmond begins to grow sorta kinda slowly while sticking close to Altaïr because they tried to keep him in Masyaf and he always just slips away. (Al Mualim tried to touch him and Desmond almost bit him. Al Mualim was lucky Desmond wasn’t that used to his new body yet).

By the time Ezio’s time rolls around, Desmond is now the same size as an adult Dalamunder and has been chilling in the expansive underground ‘city’ of Monteriggioni. Assassins have learned to build their headquarters underground with Desmond paving the way through. He starts telepathically talking to Ezio when Ezio is around 16~17 so we can hammer in Ezio’s Catholic upbringing for as long as we like XD

Ezio lived with the fear that the Devil was tempting him with power and knowledge as well as the fact that he believes he can’t tell anyone about this because they might think of him as a devil spawn. If he had told Giovanni Auditore, he would have learned about how Desmond is considered as an old god or a divine beast. The Templars made the whole ‘the devil is a snake’ thing a bigger impact than in the original timeline because of Desmond.

As for Ratonhnhaké:ton, it really depends on whether we’ll let Edward live or not. If Edward lives, that means that Desmond is a swimming snake that everyone thought was the Leviathan and, Ratonhnhaké:ton learned of him because Desmond starts to whisper to him when he was a kid. It’s the least stressful meeting of the three because Edward is there to tell Ratonhnhaké:ton who Desmond is. If we’re keeping it close to canon as possible, Desmond hibernates in the Grand Temple after eating whatever device was keeping Juno’s data and he awakens because he hears Lee and his men. He eats Lee and telepathically tells Ratonhnhaké:ton that they need to go and save the village because the other squads are on their way. From there, the village believes Desmond is one of the ‘beasts’ that sleeps in the land, having awakened because of the atrocities of the colonists.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

New dad

Barbie dolls: jegugily x you

Word:1.5k ish

Summary: you guys have a kid its just fluffy really

Warnings: Lily is preggers, I use a Juno quote, idk parenting ig, Nymphadora is wolfstar's surrogate, teddy lupin involved slightly, alluded to trans Regulus, morning sickness and gags mentioned I'm sorry it's like canonical pregnancy shit, baby Harry

To be fair, Regulus was very sleep-deprived the night Remus and Sirius announced their pregnancy. His reaction was delayed. He was confused at first. Regulus pointed out to Sirius ‘You don't exactly have the utensils to do that.’. Sirius' smile had fallen slightly, his shoulders slumping. He expected his brother to be more excited. Sirius obviously didn't expect him to be jumping up and down, that wasn't Regulus' style, but he excited at least a ‘congrats’. After Regulus stared at them blankly Remus caught up. Remus explained to Regulus about Nymphadora being their surrogate and how she would help raise the baby as well. Regulus was happy for them, he even hugged Sirius.

But Regulus' reaction was nothing compared to Sirius'. Years later Lily noticed her period was a week late. You went out to the store with her, holding her hand as you waited on the test. The boys were at work so it wasn't really all that worrisome leaving the door open. Lily flipped over the test when the timer went off. She turned to you and stared. You smiled at her and kissed her cheek. Your boyfriends were more than excited when they found out, you three promised you were okay with whatever she wanted. Lily said she was ready and suddenly you four were sitting around the living room with parenting books in hand.

Finally, it was time to share the news. You were all sat in Sirius and Remus' living room, sitting quietly. James was bouncing his knee. Regulus was wringing his hands in his lap. He said he was the one who was going to tell Sirius. Seeing as Sirius was the one who told him. Lily was sitting patiently in her massive sweater, waiting for one of her lovers to speak up. Three-year-old Teddy kept running into the room and holding up a cutie to Remus. Remus had a growing pile of orange peels next to him. By Teddy's third cutie, Regulus finally spoke up.

“We're pregnant,” Regulus said bluntly. Remus sucked in a breath as Sirius let out a strained chuckle.

“You or Lily?” Sirius asked. Regulus grimaced and pointed at Lily. Lily proudly stood up and lifted her sweater showing off her small bump. Sirius and Remus cheered, standing up. Remus quickly pulled Lily into a hug. Her warm laugh made Regulus relax more. Sirius gently tugged Regulus towards him, tightening his arms around Regulus. You pulled James up, hugging Remus as he clapped James on the back. You glanced over at Regulus and Sirius. Lily and James were still talking with Remus. You saw Regulus trying to discretely wipe at his eyes as Sirius ruffled his hair.

Sirius was quite supportive towards Regulus and the rest of you throughout the pregnancy. He came over and helped build the crib. Sirius got so excited when he found out he was the godfather he sprinted around the entire house cheering.

Regulus was a very anxious husband. He was a hover-er definitely. Every time Lily tried to walk around the house barefoot, he was chasing after her with a pair of socks in one hand and a pair of slippers in the other. Regulus was snatching spicy food out of her hands. Which was quite sad seeing as you lived with James Fleamont Potter. Regulus didn't let her leave the house without a coat on. Lily barely needed to try to remember her vitamins. Regulus had an alarm set within seconds of it going off, he was sprinting into the room with her multiple bottles of vitamins. Anytime Lily tried to order a soft drink at a restaurant, Regulus was swapping their cups so she could have water instead.

James wasn't much better. He was making dinner every night, avoiding fish and rare meats. He was researching each meal weeks in advance, double-checking that Lily could have it. When night cravings rolled around, James was volunteering, launching out of bed, and out the door. James was bringing home onesies and decor for the new baby every time he left the house. James would stand behind Lily and pull up her bump to give her a small break whenever he got the chance. The one thing different between James and Regulus is James knew when to concede. When nagging he knew the second Lily looked up at him with her fiery glare he was moonwalking out of the room. However, when Regulus saw her glare, he dropped a kiss on her cheek and gave her his puppy eyes. She usually accepted defeat after that.

Lily seemed to only get peace during her pregnancy with you. She loved her other partners but you were more relaxed with her. When she got tired you were lying down to take a nap with her, tracing shapes on her bare stomach and kissing her shoulder. You were holding her hair and your gags when she had morning sickness. You were running her a bath slightly colder than usual to help calm her nerves. You were sinking in behind her to massage her back and wash her hair. You were folding all the onesies James found, placing them into the new drawers you found at a thrift store. You were helping Lily nest while making sure she wasn't pushing herself.

“You're okay, baby.” James nodded at her words, calming significantly. James snapped out of it after that, getting you four to the hospital in no time and being the calmest of you all.

Eventually, it was time. Lily had wakened Regulus up first. He helped her out of bed as you woke up James. James shot up in bed sprinting around the house in a flurry of panic. You were helping Lily and Regulus settle into the backseat as another wave of contractions washed over Lily.

You looked back to tell James he should start the car only to find him still on the front step. He was fighting for his life trying to squeeze into his Converse. You deadpanned at him. James looked up to see Lily squeezing onto Regulus' hand and your annoyed face. James quickly yanked his shoe off and hobbled to the car with the go bag thrown over his shoulder. He started muttering out apologies as he stuffed the bag in the trunk. Lily called his name, her contractions lessening. James was pulled out of his panic staring into her eyes. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

A week or two later you four five were home. James and Lily were upstairs taking a nap. Sirius was building a small play kitchen in the other room. Sometimes you heard him swear his family's name. It was barely after lunch but Lily had an eventful month. Regulus was taking care of Harry in the nursery, trying to rock him to sleep. You were relaxing in the living room, reading yet another parenting book. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked up to see Lily joining you on the couch. She curled into your side, her eyes squinted. You wrapped your arm around her. You heard Regulus leaving the nursery. You looked up when you heard the refrigerator open, curious as to what Regulus was doing. You saw him and almost cried. You nudged Lily until she sat up. You both stared at Regulus in awe.

He had brand new baby Harry pressed to his chest, his little fist pressed to his mouth as he drooled on Regulus' shirt. Regulus' eyes were closed, bouncing up and down slightly as he shushed Harry. He craned his neck to look at Harry's face. The sun seemed to add a natural spotlight to Regulus. You didn't even remember opening a window but the sun was still caught in his curls. You sighed happily as you watched your beautiful husband. Lily turned to you and muttered some form of compliment before leaning back on your shoulder.

Sirius waltzed into the kitchen stopping at the sight of Regulus. Regulus looked up at Sirius. Sirius was staring blankly at him. Regulus felt a ball of anxiety settle in his stomach. Was he holding Harry wrong? Should he be sitting instead? Should he switch sides? Was he doing everything wrong?

“Am I holding him okay? How do I look?” You were watching the interaction from the couch. You understood Regulus was really asking about his form. You knew he was feeling a lot of anxiety with the new life he was responsible for, feeling like he might end up like his own parents. You had spent a good number of nights holding him and reassuring him he could never ever ever be his parents.

“Like a new dad;” Sirius started “scared shitless.” Regulus paused, staring down at Harry again. Regulus pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. Regulus glanced up at Sirius again.

“You're doing amazing Regulus, no need to worry.” Regulus hummed at Sirius, rocking Harry again. He glanced over at you on the couch. You smiled at him, hoping you could reassure him with one look. Regulus' lips twitched, rubbing Harry's back.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Percy: Huh, I thought given how much Camp Jupiter... Feels about Jason those officers would've listened to you over him.

Reyna: You'd think. But while they might look down at Jason, he has them outmatched in experience and rank, while I only have rank over them.

Percy: True. I forget sometimes you joined only a few years ago. It's like you were born here or something.

Reyna: chuckles Or something.

Octavian: It's scary how you quickly you adapt though. I remember when I showed up and Jason just went "you'll get used to it" once shit got crazy around here.

Reyna: Wait, I thought you and Jason joined together? Or at least around the same time.

Octavian: shakes his head Nope, Jason was already here when I joined Camp Jupiter.

Percy: When did you join?

Octavian: 7 years ago, so when I was 11.

Reyna:... That's pretty early, especially for a legacy. No offence.

Octavian: shrugs None taken. My parents were gonna wait till I was an adult. But my powers set in and suddenly they could only think that hey our kid can see the future he'll be a brilliant asset to the Leigion.

Reyna: I... am paying them a visit the next time we're in the mortal world.

Percy: Same, fucking hell.

Octavian: snorts Thanks...but yeah Jason was already here.

Jason: Jason was already where? Sorry I heard my name.

Reyna: Hey, we were just wondering when you joined Camp Jupiter.

Jason: 2.

Percy: 2...years ago? But that doesn't make sense.

Jason: No, 2 years old... Why are you all looking at me like that?

Reyna:... What the fuck?! What... The fuck?!

Octavian:... I didn't think... You weren't that much younger than me so I didn't think...

Jason: Guys it's okay.

Percy: Nothing about this is okay! You were a baby, Jason...Thalia would've still be around how did...

Jason: Ah... That. Well, Juno started harassing my mum with monsters. Told her they'd go if she left me, but she was gonna come back she promised... And than she didn't. Lupa got me, went to the Wolf House, survived and I've been here ever since.

Reyna: To reiterate my previous point, what the fuck!

Jason: Guys, it wasn't that bad.

Percy: I almost died in the Wolf House now... You went through that at 2.

Octavian: No wonder you were so feral.... Wait... Horrified Realisation You have tattoos for every year you've been here, right?

Jason: Yup, 13 lines for 13 years.

Reyna:...So not only did some idiot decide to train a baby with a sword... They tattooed you too?!

Jason: It wasn't that bad. I mean they did have to hold me down, because I was crying and trying to bite them but yeah... Why are you all looking at me like that?

[cupidlovesastro]

Girl tell me why I'm talking to this guy right 😭 and the vibes IMMACULATE. He just felt so comfortable to be around even though he's a teeny bit mean sometimes 😭, the energy just felt so safe and secure to be around and things like that. Like even if im not tryna be attracted to him i keep getting pulled in. I was even talkin about marriage at one point which it was for jokes..but i was lowkey serious😭. The one time I kinda got turned off from him was when we were talking and there was a moment I didn't like how he talked to me cuz it felt kinda cocky and almost bossy and I didn't like that which is ironic because the main thing i liked about him was his dominance..but idk i could just feel the difference idk how to put that 😭. Anyway, Whole time I'm just sitting here like hm..I wonder what his Zodiac is. The mf is a aquarius and I got a aquarius chiron, aquarius over my 4H, groom in 11H in my groom pc, ic aquarius, juno in 11H, neptune in aquarius i- 😀. Now I wanna try ro fake look up this boy chart and see the other placements but ion wanna be weird about it 😭

And it's so funny because literally in high-school I had the longest crush on a guy and he was also an aquarius and it was for this exact same reason😭. Something they both had in common was they both are lowkey flirts and just easily atract ppl😭..I feel like I'm cooked 🥲

yeah his sun conjunct your chiron is no good. it’s either gonna heal you or hurt you. if it hurts you, it’s going to remind you of childhood trauma, your mother, affect your emotional wellbeing, etc.

if it heals you, it’s going to heal childhood trauma and inner child wounds, as well as possibly heal mother wounds although, interactions with other women help more with that than men

ic being aquarius pretty much shows you attract aquarian energy or have ancestral aquarian energy in your family or even in your past lives

11h energy can be a little different than aquarian energy imo. i feel like 11h energy is honestly like the sugar coating of aquarian energy. 11h doesn’t necessarily represent coldness, shallowness, etc, the same way aquarius does

and YES aquarians are huge flirts. they are an air sign after all and secretly love making friends and relationships with people (although they won’t admit it). aquarius’s are either the weird kid who you thought was weird in a bad way and ended up being cool, or the players who have talked to at least half the damn school LMAO

[ataraxiaspainting]

Heaven Can Wait.

Yan (College AU) Juno x GN Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, manipulation, descriptions of violence, implications of dub-con sex (not with the reader), Chrollo is the worst, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Can be considered to be an honorary part of Hier Encore. (Or as a standalone for a soft yandere hot woman)

*~*~*~*

You could have chosen a better place to eat. Everything was less than half the usual price compared to the more expensive places, yes. But the customer service was ghastly though, the food was near inedible, and everything smelled of cigarettes. Cracked white bowls and filthy cups littered every table, including the one you two are sitting at.

Well, Juno thought, at least I can smoke here.

That would ruin the mood though, perhaps. She wants you to only have the best opinion of her after all. She wants it so bad that she has dressed up to the nines for a simple late-night fast-food run. Like a single cloud hovering in a bright blue sky, she stands out like a sore thumb.

It’s half past midnight now, much later than she usually stays up on her days off. Not that she had many off days, to begin with. It’s a prison of her design honestly; always wanting to know more and do more sometimes gets her nowhere.

But most of the time it gets her somewhere.

It was easy enough to befriend you, having moments not too intimate but not too distant either.

Yes. Yes… you remind her of him, in some ways.

You tell her sweet words and your touch is as soft as the pillows she sleeps on. Those were not the only traits Sebaste had Juno sees in you, though.

You’re not the most aloof person she knows, that easily goes to Camus, but you still don’t know how to control your facial expressions much. You like the beach, but not necessarily like the ocean’s water. 

“How can you just eat all of that?”

“Pardon?”

You point. Juno looks down at the many empty plates on her side of the table, all piled high on one another and all having a thin layer of red sauce inside them. There must have been at least five, she thinks. She was too zoned out to feel the spice of the food most likely. 

Your bowl, on the other hand, was more than half full. Your side of the table was also covered in little splotches of hot sauce, while hers remained mostly clean. You were avoiding the vegetables maybe, or maybe you didn’t have as high of a spice tolerance as she did. Juno is undecided on which one would be more likely.

…Has… she really eaten this many bowls while her imagination roamed free?

She has dealt with far worse pain. Though around forests in the middle of the night only to be threatened with a taser was on the much lower end of the spectrum of unfortunate situations she has been in, the spiciness was somehow even lower. The device was set to the lowest setting, but her skin still felt like it was about to jump out of her body and run away. Being held with an ax right below her neck while another hand held her up by her hair was another one only slightly above the last two. She only had a slight cut just above her collarbone when the grip loosened and she was able to leave.

But she cannot tell you all of that; she wouldn’t want you in more danger than she has already made you be in.

“I’ve simply dealt with far worse… ‘dishes’, [First].”

You look confused at her answer but decide not to pry – another trait she loves about you, your ability to not invade others’ privacy – and decide to instead delve into the now cold cup of admittedly diluted green tea you ordered mere minutes ago.

*~*~*~*

When Juno locks the door behind her, she notices the tall lamp by her desk is on. It’s no mere coincidence, she knows it, but somewhere deep down she hopes that tonight it will be. Hell has to take a break sometimes, right? 

Juno has to remind herself that though the demons may have today to do whatever they please, Lucifer himself does no such thing. He enjoys making life for others unbearable – he lives for it.

She can’t make out Chrollo’s face because of the book he covers over it.

“The Collector, huh?” Juno sets her purse on the coat rack along with her cardigan. Her high heels come off soon after, though they do make a blunt thump when she puts them by her dorm’s entrance. Chrollo just turns a page, almost as if he is ignoring you entirely, almost as if this is his home and not yours. “I recommended that one to you, did I not? I thought that perhaps you could metamorphose into a better person if you see the damage you could potentially do to your crush.”

Her teeth push against each other as she says the last word.

“Is that how my lovely girlfriend greets me after cheating on me in the middle of the night?” He looks down at his watch – one of the many he wears on the regular, though she can swear that this one was the most expensive from the little diamonds around the outer rim of the clock. “At such a cheap place too.”

“A crush is all I am.”

“Are you now?”

Chrollo doesn’t even look at you as he stands up, the book still covering his face as he steps towards you. His posture is upright like it normally is, but his suit is without a tie and the button-up is a third way undone. He must have been in quite a rush to break in here – she hopes he did.

“Then what are they to you, huh? A crush as well?”

She shakes her head, and somehow he sees it because he nods in response.

“Then what are they?”

“Something you are not.”

“Are they really, Juno?”

Slowly but surely the book falls to Chrollo’s side – a blood-red curtain that does nearly nothing to hide the scene about to be revealed to the audience. The actors are not there and neither are the special effects done by the stagehands, but the props stay where they were placed.

It’s horrifying.

She struggles to come up with a coherent answer to the question despite her expecting it. It is like Chrollo used his damn book without even opening it – her painted lips feel dry and her freshly washed hair feels like it is about to fall off from stress. It is like a diabolical curse has been put over her like she will become a haggard old woman with a humpback in mere seconds. If that did happen, Chrollo would have her beg for months on end until he is satisfied.

She doesn’t want that.

She doesn’t want that any more than she wants you to get hurt because of her.

She doesn’t want you to see her hideous real face, nevertheless Chrollo’s.

You’ll stay with her, won’t you? You’ll stay until her flesh rots and your flesh rots and Chrollo’s flesh rots. If you allow her, she won’t let go of you even when she is long dead. Her pretty nails will dig into your skin and refuse to leave. You’ll stay – because you are all she has left in this cold, uncaring world. 

“Don’t hurt them.” Her fingertips hold onto her skirt like they are flies and it is a spider’s web.

He points – a clear order, a clear demand.

“Get on the bed then, dearest.”

[writingrock]

let me be numb to you [2]

pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral) summary: being bored at some club sucks. but when you meet a charming stranger offering you some fun, you don't say no.

notes: drug use, gambling, addiction, mentions of overdose, angst, implied sex

word count: 4.1k

chapter list

Each time he promised himself he wouldn't meet with you again, he lies to himself. There was never a last time when it came to going out with you. In fact the two of you started to go out more.

Initially, Aventurine was adamant in cutting you off after that night. He’s not someone to be friends with. He’s well aware of what kind of influence he is and is content with walking on this dangerous thread alone. The careless, foolish lifestyle where sobriety could fuck off. Where all he had to do was gamble and consume whatever could get him high.

But, you were irritatingly persistent. The onslaught of messages and calls, catching him off guard and inserting yourself into his life.

Thinking back on it, he wished he was stronger back then to refuse you. To block you and completely cut you off. But he was weak when he met you. Deep down, he wanted to be fucked up with someone and you rose to the role. So bit by bit, you seeped into his life through the cracks of his defences.

All the memories of the gambling sprees and drugs were brought back to Aventurine when he sees your name ringing on the screen of his phone. He's just taken a shower. Water from his damp hair falls onto the screen of his phone, two fat droplets of water fall on your name as he contemplates picking it up. 

Cheese pulls are always satisfying when eating pizza. Your hands held the crust of the slice as you pulled it away to showcase the stretchy cheese. Aventurine was only mildly amused. Or at least, he was pretending to be mildly amused.

The two of you had just finished playing a few games at the casino. He was still teaching you the ways of gambling. You could have sworn he was some gambling god. The fun lasted till the early morning of 4:32 am. Both of you left the casino with the winnings of the night. Adrenaline rushing through both as they got into his car.

Hunger was the last thing on your mind until your stomach grumbled during the car ride. “Are you seriously hungry–” Aventurine’s words were cut off by the sound of his own stomach grumbling.

So since the two of you were hungry after the little games, you brought him to your favourite midnight snack place. A small pizza place sits at the corner of a quiet street. A humble, generational pizza shop with weathered bricks and a retro-style neon sign that read “Juno’s Pizza”. The sign buzzes faintly in the stillness of the night, casting a warm glow onto the sidewalk below.

It looks unassuming but they probably made the best pizzas. They always hit the spot after a long night out. Something about the cushiony, salty cheese and the perfect ratio of pizza dough and toppings. The pizza place is cosy, with a comforting, lived-in feel. The moment you walk in, you could picture all of the memories that have taken place here.

Aventurine wasn’t particularly fazed by the place or the pizza. But he could admit that the pizza was good. His fingers pressed the crust, the remaining bit of the pizza slice he hadn't eaten yet. Eating late night pizza from some corner shop was strangely not bad.

It’s been two months since you guys met and the both of you were getting closer. Aventurine wasn’t a big fan of that. Relationships and people are always complicated. Especially when he was intent on fooling around, putting his life on this thin thread of danger and death.

A part of him wants to keep you around. No one has really stuck around him like this and this often. Is this what they call a friend? In his line of work and general life, everyone is a ‘friend’. There’s no meaning behind that word. Just a way to address someone and be friendly with them. He doesn’t truly understand what a ‘friend’ is. But you’ve turned into something he can’t quite understand. Why would someone continue to spend time with him? Is it because of how he’s teaching you how to gamble? Once you learn, will you leave as well? There’s no such thing as a free lunch. There’s only give and take.

“What’s your next step once you fully understand the art of gambling?” he asked with a slight curiosity in his voice, tossing the last piece of the crust into his mouth. Aventurine expects you to dwindle away from you once you’ve learnt all that you need to learn.

Besides, you shouldn’t be around him. This hellhole of pleasure and pain isn’t for everyone. He jumps into it to overwhelm himself from remembering. Running in blind to forget his past turmoil that haunts him. He doesn’t want to look behind him. The past can stay buried.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, taking a sip of your beer. You’re naturally confused by his words. You weren’t here because you wanted to learn how to play card games or win big. You were here simply because it’s fun being with him. Doing the dumb shit with Aventurine is different than doing it alone.

“There isn’t a next step. I’m here because I enjoy your company.”

Your words are slowed in the replay, the easy smile on your face etched on his mind. The memory rings in his head as Aventurine picks up the phone. Hesitating, he slides the ‘answer’ button of your call. A soft click is heard, his breath is held back as he waits to hear your voice.

“Hey … ” Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to pick the phone up. You hadn’t planned for what you were going to say if he did pick up. Dryly swallowing your mouth, you sniffle before speaking, “could you.. pick me up?”.

The line is silent for long enough that you thought he had ended the call. Just as you were about to pull the phone from your ear to check, you hear his voice pull through. Your heart beats grow heavy at the sound of his voice. The phone call doesn’t do his voice justice, you miss hearing his voice in person. Your hand grips the phone rather tightly, shaking slightly.

“Send me the address, I’ll be there.” Before you could say anything, the line clicked. He ended the call. Removing the phone from your ear, you look down at your phone, taking a moment to look at the ‘call ended’ display.

Despite how coldly he ended the call, your heart felt warm. The warmest it’s ever been in a long time. He was going to pick you up. Promptly, you type the address to him. Sending a text to his phone that detailed where you were at.

Clutching the phone to your chest, you shiver from the cold wind. You weren’t exactly dressing for the weather. A regret you’ve come to accept as you stand by the dumpster in the alleyway. Hoping that the large size of the dumpster blocks some of the incoming wind. He hasn’t always been this cold to you. 

Sprawled on the bed were the two of you. Bare bodies slick in sweat, sticking to the sheets of the bed. A cool air brushes past your body eliciting a small shiver as you recover your breaths. Your chest rising and falling slowly as you absentmindedly stared at the ceiling. Sinking into the effects of the drugs mixed with the lingering pleasure from your orgasm.

What other way could you celebrate winning five million credits than getting high on drugs and fucking? The sex had always been casual. No feelings ever came between the two of you at least to your knowledge.

At some point, between the drugs and gambling plots, you fell for him. His irresistible charms and those strikingly beautiful eyes of his. The rare, genuine softness he shows when you both are alone. How the both of you leaned on each other as you both delved deeper into the spiral of sex, money and drugs. There’s never been judgement. It was easy to indulge and be stupid together.

Neither of you ever talked about going sober, it was always about what casino we were going to hit next or how are we getting high tonight. But nothing beats the nights where the two of you lay next to each other, freely spilling all the insecurities and vulnerabilities to each other. Buzzed with whatever substance the both of you abused that day. You remember the nights when he opened up about his past. Aventurine hated talking about it but he needed to get it off his chest sometimes and the drugs gave him the small push he needed. Outside of those nights, that topic is never discussed.

You snap your attention to Aventurine when he starts to speak. “I dreamt of my sister yesterday.” he softly speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically fragile. You keep quiet to let him speak, knowing he would continue. “The skies were clear and we were playing with marbles..” his quivering, soft voice described his dream.

He wasn’t sure why he told you about his dreams or his past. But you made him feel comfortable to be vulnerable with. Something about crashing into the sheets of some random hotel and laying there high on whatever substance they chose for the night. Perhaps it was the drugs that made him more open to talk. Aventurine hated those nights, those intimate moments where he revealed himself. Yet when he was with you, he just wanted to spill everything he buried for so long. Unwillingly and instinctively becoming an open book for you. Something about you emanates with placidity. Your presence comforts him.

Besides that, you were a sight for his sore eyes. The subtle rise and fall of your chest as your breaths created a rhythm, a quiet poetry in motion. Thin rays of light from the window slid over the gentle slope of your collarbone. His eyes marvelled at the subtle dip of your waist, and the soft swell of your hips. His fingers toyed with your locks of hair cascading over the sheets, admiring the texture of them.

But most of all, he loved laying his eyes on your face. Your dreamy expression when you were intoxicated with a subtle flush to your cheeks. Parted lips, curving into a faint smile as you step in and out of the hazy sensations.

What god decided to bless him with such a beaut? Sex with you always felt like a blessing, in a way he was addicted to the way you tasted. The way your body trembled under his touch, the lewd expressions on your face. Your needy whines and moans that sounded paradisiacal to his ears.

His favourite sensation is the warmth he felt when your bodies melted with his. He felt alive when he was being intimate with you.

A part of him knew he desired you more than the casual flings. But he’s never acted on it, he didn’t dare to. You were something he didn’t want to take a chance on. The risk of losing you was something that he didn’t want to play with. He’d much rather be content with casual sex than never have you by his side.

Sex became the tool that conveyed his feelings for you. Because fuck love. He only needed lust. The two of you could continue being together if it was just lust.

There wasn’t a chance he would let time go wasting when it came to you. He slides into the driver seat of his car, shutting the door with a solid thud. Aventurine was definitely worried, simply based on the way you sounded through the phone. It didn’t sound positive. Sliding his fingers across the dashboard, he starts the engine with a low purr.

The car comes to life, the air conditioning unit kicks in and emits cooling air. He sets his car keys aside. Quietly inputting the address into his car’s built in navigation system. He softly spells out the words as he types.

Aventurine wasn’t sure where you were but with one look at his navigation system, he could tell this wasn’t somewhere particularly nice.  A worried sigh slips past his lips as a sense of urgency crawls under his skin. His body is stiff, tense about your well-being after seeing the location.

Both hands stretch to the wheel, gripping it rather tightly as he begins his drive. It’s hard to not be worried about you. He hadn’t always been this cold towards you. But there was no point reminiscing about the past.

He hadn’t felt this worried about you since— he stops for a moment as he pulls out of the driveway. Pausing as he lets out another sigh. He hadn’t felt this worried about you since your overdose.

He hates remembering this particular night. Yet he remembers it in full, excruciating detail. The club was pulsing with energy, neon lights flashing in sync with the heavy bass that reverberated through the room.

It’s as if he’s there right now. Feeling the heavy vibrations under his feet. Dancing bodies with drinks sloshing in raised hands paired the occasional flash of a camera capturing the wild moments.

The adrenaline he felt as he pushed through the crowd, searching for you. Calling out your name, though his voice was swallowed up by the music and the noise of the crowd. Fuck. How did he lose you? His movements are urgent, his eyes jumping to each person in the crowd for your face. Cursing at the flashing lights that blur the faces in the sea of people.

The both of you were unravelling at this party with hard liquor and whatever pills were circulating at this party. Mixing substances is never a good idea but at the time, neither of you really cared. Which is why Aventurine was frantically searching for you that night. The last time he saw you was when the two of you were— yet again snorting god knows what.

Recalling this memory isn’t just uncomfortable, he feels sick thinking about it. And he still blames himself for it. Letting you get involved with him. Not holding back even slightly on that night. For losing you in the crowd.

A shrill scream was what led him to you. The sight of your lethargic body on the ground, your breathing was shallow, erratic. He could hear those loud, uneven gasps that broke through the noise of the crowd. How your eyes rolled back in a similar motion as your body, struggling against the toxic concoction of alcohol mixed with drugs. Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he didn’t find you when he did.

The ride to the hospital was the most tense experience he’d ever felt. He always felt thankful for the paramedics that stabilised you in the stretcher. He remembers how clueless he was, having zero clue on what they were doing to help you. All he knew was that he was useless in that moment as well as deep regret. Perhaps if he was colder and pushed you away more, he wouldn’t be in this situation. This terrifying situation that he doesn’t want to think about.

Even in the ambulance, he squeezed his eyes tight as if trying to convince himself he was in a nightmare. That this wasn’t real. Reality hit him whilst he was in the midst of staring at your body in the hospital bed.

An oxygen mask strapped over your mouth and nose whilst an IV drip runs through your arm. Aventurine wasn’t really listening to the doctors when they were briefing him on the treatment. What they had done to save your life and all their questions went unheard.

At that moment, all he wanted to do was bring you back. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours. He didn’t want to see you in this bleak hospital room with the stale air of disinfectant. Haunting his nightmares were the visual of you hooked onto machines— the one memory he tries to erase the most. Hours pass, the steady beeps of the machines reading that you were stable.

He still remembers how his ears perked up at your first croak, the sign of your consciousness. How he practically squeezed you so tight you could have gone unconscious again. Aventurine didn’t let you stay in the hospital for long.

Barely a full day in that hospital before he snuck you out of there. It was dangerous but he hated being there. Hatred burned inside of him each time he saw you in that hospital gown, locked onto the bed being stuck in that stuffy room. It reminded him why you were there. He didn’t want to face these reminders. So, he took you home. 

Pulling up to the address, he slowly stops his car. Peering from the window of the car, searching for you to come out. Was he really going to see you after all this time?

Emerging from the dark alleyway, you stumble out with clear signs of being intoxicated. The sight of you spaced out as you walked to his car made him infuriated. You managed to get into the car, the two of you refraining from making eye contact. The tension was thick, it felt suffocating as it wafted in the air. Wordlessly, Aventurine starts the car, his hand steering the car as he begins the drive. His hand grips tightly on the wheel as his gaze stares ahead. His knuckles pale against the dark interior. Refusing to meet your gaze in the rearview mirror.

The drive back to his place is dead silent, not a single word shared. Not even the exchange of greetings. Why couldn’t you get better? There is a tightness in his jaw, he’s lost in thought, wrestling with unsaid words. A heavy weight on unspoken emotions reeling deep within them both. Every now and then, either of you shifts in their seat, a small, restless movement that seems to echo the silence. The radio is off. Only the sound of tires rolling over the asphalt is constant during this car drive. He left so you could get better. So why are you in this spiral?

The night was quiet. An empty black skyscape with faded clouds. On the balcony, two figures stood leaning against the cold metal railing, one had their arm resting casually on the edge while the other held a smouldering cigarette. Aventurine’s shirt, black and loosely buttoned, flutters slightly in the soft breeze, revealing glimpses of his pale skin beneath. The shirt hangs open at the collar, adding to the relaxed, almost careless demeanour. He’s gotten used to your presence.

It’s been about… two or three years..? Three and a half years since you’ve been fooling around with him. But he often questioned why you’ve decided to tag along. Especially since your overdose, he assumed you’d come to your senses. Your overdose was just last week. Why are you here? Realise how dangerous it is to continue on and get help. Leave his side.

But you were still here, by his side to touch the heavenly high that you both desperately craved. As if nothing had happened.

The light golden brown locks of his hair, slightly tousled, catches the faint light from the city below, adding to his allure. His gaze is distant, eyes half-lidded as they stare down at the floor, lost in thought. Looking down at his worn out, black leather shoes. His arm extends to hand you the cigarette that is held loosely between his fingers.

Gently, you took it from his fingers and pulled it to your lips. The cigarette glowed briefly as you took a slow drag, the tip flared orange and casted a warm glow on your face. Smoke curling up from your lips, rising in delicate, twisting tendrils before it dissipated into the night air. You could feel the cigarette loosely hanging between your lips as you sink into the feeling of the first hit. Easing into the comfort, you pluck the cigarette from your mouth to rest between your fingers.

“Do you regret getting involved with me?”

The question nearly sobered you up. His voice cut through the easy atmosphere between the two of you. You twist your whole body to swing your arm and give him a hard slap on his face.

Now that definitely sobered him up. Straightening up, he held his stinging cheek. The warmth of his glowing cheek contrasted against his cold fingers. His eyes widened with shock. He didn’t expect that.

“What’s your—” “No. Fuck you. What’s your problem?” You cut him off instantly. Your words were firm and solid.

There was anger brimming inside of you. You remembered that particular night, how frustrated you were by that question. It ticked you off. The air around the two of you turned thick. You no longer shivered at the cool tingle of air.

Aventurine was silent, letting you speak. He had never seen you that pissed off, hence why he decided to shut up. Besides that, he could feel the warmth of his cheek from the inside of his mouth. He did not want another slap.

Stepping away from the railings, your searing gaze stayed on his face. Positioning yourself to be directly in front of him. Placing your hands on the railing on either side of Aventurine. Trapping him with your outstretched arms as you step in and close the distance.

Your lips pursed into a fine line as your eyebrows scrunched up in agitation. Your eyes were the fiercest features in that moment.

“I’m not some ditzy girl that happened to fall into this,” you state clearly for Aventurine to listen, “I made this decision for myself. Don’t you fucking dare pity me or ‘blame yourself for my downfall’ because I am far from being a victim.”

It’s silent as you confront him for his question. The dumbest question he’s ever asked. The facts are that he introduced you to this world. But your choices afterwards were your own. You chose this for yourself and you held no regrets. There were always passing comments that all meant the same thing: You’ll regret drowning with me.

A tense silence befalls between the two of you. The only sound is the distant hum of the city, blending with the quiet rustle of the wind as they remain absorbed in their solitary moment, detached from the world around them. The breeze blows past both of you.

“Is this because of my o.d? You need to quit worrying, it was an accident and, look! I’m fine—” 

“You’re fine?” Aventurine’s voice caused you to move back, your hands releasing the railings. A scoff leaves his mouth, not believing he’s heard you correctly.

“You’re delusional if you think you’re fine. Fucking– get a grip! You're going to lose yourself!” Scorching heat flares from his words, his expression twisted into pure, raw anger.

Disappointment, frustration and worry boiling together in the pits of his stomach. All of his thoughts spilling out his mouth which each heated breath. Why were you still next to him? Couldn’t you see that you were slowly killing yourself with him? Did he need to spell it out for you like a child?

You grit your teeth, flaring your own fangs at him. You are capable of making your own choices as a grown woman. So they might be poor decisions but you liked being with him like this.

Being fucked up with him made you happy. No matter how ugly it could get. You reached a different sensation with him. He’s never influenced you to do the shit you do, for fuck sakes, you are not a child that needed to be scolded. He should stick his nose out of your business.

Aventurine is fueled by the deep worry he has for you. You’re probably one of the people closest to him and he didn’t want to lose you. Aventurine wished he could have communicated it better to you. Be calm and sit down with you to discuss getting help. Instead of opening his feelings, he berates you. Regrettably saying things he never meant. But you were the same. Perhaps if you weren’t so defensive or blinded by the serotonin from the substances. Maybe then you would have seen his concern.

The night sky was bleak that night. Raised voices bickering on the balcony with no regard for the neighbours. An argument that dragged both of you from the world.

Aventurine left your place at 5:53am. Slammed the door hard enough for your apartment to tremble. He didn’t call or answer your texts ever after that. Until now.

a/n: what a heavy chapter huh? How are yall feeling?

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight