#I research the topic and try to make direct lines between the questions and the result

[queers4years]

this user is a slut for data

[riseofthecommonwoodpile]

Hi Izzy! I remember back in the day you were a big fan of Sunspring and wrote a beautiful piece discussing it and talking about AI art. Do you think any AI art has surpassed Sunspring? Have changes in the development of AI changed your perspective on it at all? Asking bc I love that essay and I’m very curious :) thx

(context for those who don't know, Sunspring is a short film made about 8 years ago that used a relatively early LLM to generate its script, which was then filmed with a real cast and crew. if you want to watch it here it is, it's about 9 minutes, i highly recommend it)

i've thought about Sunspring a lot as AI art has become such a big topic in the past year or so, and I think the pieces i wrote about it i still stand behind, though i got a few things wrong that i'll bring up when i answer the second question.

to answer the first question: i personally haven't see any AI art that has impacted me emotionally nearly as much, but i also kinda dropped off watching new movies (most of the new-to-me movies i watch are found footage horror movies, 70's porno-chic also-rans, and shot on video movies from the 90's), and i would wager that, if i could somehow experience all of the AI art that exists, there'd be something that hit me in the same way again. there's too much of it for that not to be the case, and too many genuinely creative people experimenting with it. that said, what was so beautiful about Sunspring was how imperfect the tech used to create it was. Almost all of the script makes grammatical sense, but the way it flows, the directions sentences go, the phrasing used is so strange that the friction between the failures of the tech to be truly convincing and the actors trying to bridge the gap to make it still work is what was exhilarating and moving. as the models have gotten better and better, as the rough edges smooth off, that tension so often has just faded into a bland beige unflavored oatmeal of average aggregate language. some of the phrases in Sunspring that have stuck with me the most ("I think I could have been my life", "Whatever you want to know about the presence of the story, I’m a little bit of a boy on the floor.", etc.) wouldn't be created by any of the most popular LLMs today. they're too idiosyncratic, the phrasing is too odd, the grammar almost but not quite there. the plot is surreal and associative, the structuring bizarre and dreamlike. the lines Sunspring ends on— "He looks at me, and he throws me out of his eyes. And then he says he’ll go to bed with me."— are some of my favorites in any film, and it's because they are abstract, poetic, like the computer stumbled upon a phrase so evocative that no written-by-committee script would've let it through. he looks at me, and he throws me out of his eyes. this man who is supposed to love me looks at me in a way where his love of me has gone, where i'm barely even seen as me. it's not the kind of sentence most modern LLMs, with their focus on being convincing, are designed to create.

as far as the second question, i think the biggest change in my perspective is how my belief in the technology, both good and bad, has curdled. i bought into the hype that the technology would progress to the point where screenwriting could be turned into an assembly line, and maybe after that the rest of the parts of filmmaking as well. i had hoped it would become a new collaborative process between human and technology, and i feared it would become a way for movie execs to pay people less and eliminate jobs. the first i haven't seen much of, and the second, while certainly the dream of so many boosters of the tech, has largely been a failure (though plenty, plenty of people have still lost their jobs to LLMs despite that, and as a labor issue i still think it is a very important area of focus). i was too caught up in the possibilities that i didn't bother to research who was making the tech, where the money was coming from, what growth in the sector would look like materially, etc. i still believe LLMs can be used creatively, but most likely any interesting art coming from them will emerge out of models custom-molded by artists to have some of those same rough edges i loved in the first place. i think, in terms of mainstream film, any use of AI is in service to the same bland competence the rest of the industry is mired in, a determination to make products for everyone that inevitably become products for no one. i've become a lot more cynical about the trend towards mediocrity in entertainment, and that cynicism is due at least in part to much of what i've seen come out of the AI space. i do not have a knee-jerk hatred of the tech, but it has not at all panned out how i had hoped or dreaded.

[typinggently]

On the subject of Brank... How do you think it would go between them if one was asexual? Say Frank was for example

Can’t say that that’s a topic I’ve thought much about but I honestly don’t think much would change between them. I feel their relationship isn’t necessarily sexual to begin with, or at least neither of them would be particularly inclined to ask for or miss it if the other person wasn’t interested.

And that’s mainly because they aren’t exactly poster boys when it comes to how couples should interact, imo. To try and explain what I mean —

I usually see Frank as someone who’s attracted to men but in a very non-self aware way. He could probably go all his life without ever questioning his sexuality, simply assuming that everyone sees men the way he does. So if Billy was asexual, Frank probably wouldn’t even notice. He probably would either assume that they’re simply very good friends (although I think he could be of that opinion even if they did have sex. And lived together. And adopted some puppies.) — or he’d think that that’s how you have relationship with men. He knows relationships with women usually include sex at some point, but apparently men don’t do that. Well, one less topic for him to research.

If Frank was asexual — Well. I could imagine that Billy has a very particular and complicated relationship with his own body and sexuality, based on what we see and know about him. If Frank wouldn’t express interest in that direction, Billy might even be glad about it because he can just leave that can of worms untouched. Which isn’t to say that I think he’d be reluctant about having sex with Frank, but I think the line between being desired and being objectified is very blurred for him, so in a sexual relationship, he’d probably need a while to untangle that and correctly interpret Frank’s intentions. So if there are no sexual intentions from Frank’s side, Billy has no need to untangle anything and might feel relieved, respected and appreciated for not being looked at in this way (again, if the relationship WAS sexual, he probably would feel appreciated and respected, too. We’re simply skipping a step here. Not particularly healthy, but what about Billy is, really?).

Basically, I think they’d be pretty content with how things are going between them. But, of course, this isn’t good or satisfying representation of how relationships with differing needs should work. Again, a well-adjusted couple would talk about the whole thing at some point, but neither of them strike me as the types to ever feel the need to do that, tbh.

That lack of communication is something I definitely could see in a relationship that did include sex, too, though, which is why this concept is so interesting to me. It works really well imo, it’s just not particularly satisfying from a standpoint of wanting positive representation, you know what I mean? I tried to imagine a conversation with either of them trying to explain their asexuality to the other and I can’t come up with a version that isn’t terribly awkward, full of miscommunication and deeply dissatisfying. Love that for them. Kings <3

Again, though: I think they’d make it work just fine! 😌

this was really fun & interesting to think about! thank you for asking 🌹

[physics-scholars]

Physics

How would you introduce electro magnetic induction to your students in class 12 ?

1. Introduction to Electromagnetic Induction

Teacher: Good morning, class! Today, we're going to dive into a fascinating topic of physics called electromagnetic induction. Electromagnetic induction is a fundamental concept discovered by the renowned scientist Michael Faraday in the early 19th century. This concept plays a crucial role in understanding various technological advancements, from power generation to electric motors and transformers. So, let's explore this concept together!

Teacher: To begin, let's break down the term "electromagnetic induction." "Electro" refers to electricity, while "magnetic" relates to magnets or magnetic fields. Induction, in this context, implies the creation of a current or voltage in a conductor when it is exposed to a changing magnetic field. In simpler terms, it's the process of generating electricity by moving a magnet near a conductor or by varying the magnetic field through a conductor.

Teacher: Now, let's discuss the basic principles of electromagnetic induction. To induce an electric current, we need two key components: a magnetic field and a conductor. A conductor is usually a wire made of a conductive material like copper or aluminum. When a magnetic field interacts with a conductor, it causes the electrons within the conductor to move, creating an electric current.

Teacher: Now, let's conduct a small experiment to visualize electromagnetic induction. I have here a coil of wire connected to a galvanometer, which is an instrument used to measure electric current. I will move a bar magnet back and forth inside the coil. Watch what happens to the galvanometer.

[Teacher demonstrates the experiment, showing the galvanometer deflecting, indicating the presence of an electric current.]

Teacher: As you can see, when I move the magnet inside the coil, we observe a deflection in the galvanometer. This deflection indicates the flow of an electric current in the coil. When the magnet moves, it creates a changing magnetic field around the coil, which, in turn, induces an electric current in the wire.

Teacher: This experiment demonstrates Faraday's law of electromagnetic induction, which states that the magnitude of the induced electromotive force (EMF) or voltage in a circuit is directly proportional to the rate of change of magnetic flux through the circuit. Magnetic flux refers to the total number of magnetic field lines passing through a given area.

Teacher: Moreover, Faraday's law also tells us that the direction of the induced current will be such that it opposes the change that caused it. This concept is known as Lenz's law. It helps us understand why the induced current flows in a specific direction.

Teacher: Now that we have a basic understanding of electromagnetic induction, we can explore its applications in various fields, such as power generation in electrical generators, operation of electric motors, transformers, and even wireless charging technologies.

Teacher: To summarize, electromagnetic induction is a fundamental principle in physics, describing the generation of an electric current in a conductor when exposed to a changing magnetic field. It was discovered by Michael Faraday and has since revolutionized our understanding of electricity and magnetism.

Teacher: I encourage you all to explore this concept further through hands-on experiments, research, and practical applications. Understanding electromagnetic induction will open doors to innovative technologies and deepen our knowledge of the interconnectedness between electricity and magnetism.

Teacher: That's all for today's introduction to electromagnetic induction. I hope you found it intriguing! If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

2. Expt. Demonstration:

Some siimple demonstration you can try to further illustrate electromagnetic induction:

Materials needed:

1. A coil of wire (you can make one by wrapping several loops of insulated wire around a cylindrical object like a pen)

2. A bar magnet

3. A galvanometer or a multimeter set to measure voltage

4. Connecting wires

Procedure:

1. Connect the ends of the coil of wire to the galvanometer or multimeter.

2. Place the bar magnet near one end of the coil without touching it.

3. Observe the galvanometer or multimeter reading.

You should notice that when you move the magnet closer to the coil or away from it, the galvanometer or multimeter will detect a change in voltage or current. This change indicates the induction of an electric current in the coil due to the changing magnetic field created by the magnet.

You can further explore the demonstration by trying different scenarios, such as moving the magnet at different speeds, using different strengths of magnets, or reversing the direction of the magnet's movement. These variations will help you observe how the induced current changes in response to different magnetic field conditions.

3. Activities:

These are a few activities you can try to deepen your understanding of electromagnetic induction:

1. Build an Electromagnetic Induction Demonstrator:

Materials needed: A coil of wire, a bar magnet, a galvanometer or multimeter, connecting wires, a wooden board.

Procedure:

- Mount the coil of wire securely on the wooden board.

- Connect the ends of the coil to the galvanometer or multimeter.

- Place the bar magnet near the coil without touching it.

- Move the magnet back and forth or rotate it near the coil while observing the galvanometer or multimeter readings.

- Observe how the galvanometer or multimeter detects changes in voltage or current as you vary the magnet's position and movement.

2. Simple Electric Generator:

Materials needed: A coil of wire, a strong magnet, a small LED or a light bulb, connecting wires.

Procedure:

- Create a coil by wrapping several loops of wire around a cylindrical object.

- Connect the ends of the coil to the LED or light bulb.

- Hold the magnet near the coil without touching it.

- Rotate the magnet quickly inside the coil.

- Observe the LED or light bulb lighting up, indicating the generation of electricity through electromagnetic induction.

3. Investigate the Factors Affecting Induced Current:

Materials needed: A coil of wire, a magnet, a stopwatch, a galvanometer or multimeter, connecting wires.

Procedure:

- Connect the coil of wire to the galvanometer or multimeter.

- Hold the magnet near the coil.

- Start the stopwatch and move the magnet towards and away from the coil at a constant speed for a specific time period.

- Observe and record the galvanometer or multimeter readings.

- Repeat the experiment, changing factors such as magnet strength, speed of movement, or number of coil loops.

- Analyze and compare the results to see how these factors affect the induced current.

Remember to approach these activities with caution and prioritize safety. Ensure that electrical connections are secure, and be mindful of any sharp objects or moving parts. Always follow proper safety guidelines and adult supervision when necessary.

These activities will provide you with hands-on experiences and help reinforce your understanding of electromagnetic induction. Have fun exploring!

[hiiragi7]

Hi, I'm fairly neutral on ToSD discourse, but I'd like to see if I can go through this post to offer some understanding here and open discussion (I find the ToSD applies to my system but that many others I know do not find it fits them, which is totally fine, because it is extremely difficult to fit everyone with a complex disorder into a box).

For me, I actually find the primary/secondary/tertiary categories themselves fine, but find that attaching specific diagnoses (PTSD, BPD, OSDD, DID) to each category is where it falls short. It's clear that the picture of trauma and structural dissociation is much more complex than what we can currently fit into clean diagnostic boxes.

And, while the diagnoses listed are often only listed as "examples" for each category, that is not how they are usually used and discussed in practice, and are used more like hard-defined facts for each category.

The current diagnosis labels are what we have to work with right now and are well-backed by research, but if dissociation truly is a spectrum (which, it is), there will be grey areas between these hard-defined diagnostic labels and structural dissociation categories that I feel could be better accounted for.

For example, your first series of questions:

If someone has PTSD from seperate, unrelated incidents, are these always going to be the same state? Is your EP from a car accident the same one as your EP from the war?

The answer here from all I know on this topic is no. The trauma is compartmentalized differently - Having war flashbacks will not necessarily bring up car crash flashbacks. However, yes, this would classify as "One ANP, multiple EPs" while simultaneously not inherently involving enough identity disturbance, amnesia, or parts distinction to fall under a typical "secondary dissociation" category diagnosis like BPD or OSDD.

This is why I do not like attaching diagnoses to ToSD categories, I find it unhelpful. I believe the ToSD mainly revolves around understanding childhood trauma and childhood dissociation, which, while it can be very helpful there, means it doesn't always account well for much else.

I'd just be repeating myself over the "ToSD doesn't account for OSDD systems with multiple ANPs" part, so I'll skip it, because again, I don't like attaching diagnoses to these categories and find that to be more a fault of the current diagnostic system and how people use that than that of the underlying concepts put forward by ToSD.

I am also not going to go in-depth regarding the endogenic headmates question, because I find that unhelpful, because ToSD is not about endogenesis and what people mean by endogenic headmate in a traumagenic system varies wildly. Some people use that language to describe any headmate who had no clear, direct link to trauma when they formed, while others use it to describe tulpas or spirigenic system members.

Either way, ToSD was not created to account for anything outside of traumagenic disorder, so it would not really make sense to try to account for those headmates within it, because ToSD is not about system members, it is about dissociation.

Overall, I believe it would be much more helpful for everyone to view the diagnoses and structural dissociation categories as more of guidelines and examples rather than hard lines drawn, because I don't actually find that these lines are drawn so harshly in a lot of literature I see discussing dissociation.

They use language like "Such as", "For example", "Usually", "Often", while many people like syscoursers use language like "Always", "Never", and "Exclusively". ToSD genuinely stops having so many percieved contradictions when you stop viewing it as so black-and-white.

ToSD proposes a spectrum model for dissociation, and I believe more people should use it that way.

Hey! It's Structural Dissociation Day in Syscourse Today! So let's drop a hot take nobody asked for:

I don't think distinctions between primary, secondary and tertiary dissociation are accurate or useful.

Let me say that there are certain things I like about the theory. I think some of the broad strokes works, like the idea that certain "EPs" are (or can be) developed from the same states seen in PTSD.

But I think the breakdown of how Primary, Secondary and Tertiary dissociation fails at practically every level.

Primary Dissociation is one ANP and one EP, but this seems unfalsifiable given that these states are less self-aware in general. If someone has PTSD from separate, unrelated incidents, are these always going to be the same state? Is your EP from a car accident the same as your EP from war? Or does different trauma integrate separately? Can we prove that someone with PTSD from multiple sources only has one EP?

Secondary Dissociation involves one ANP and multiple EPs, and includes OSDD. Yet this directly contradicts the experiences of multiple OSDD systems I know of (1a and 1b) who report having multiple ANPs, which would make it tertiary dissociation.

This is without asking where endogenic headmates would fall into this. (And I mean endogenic headmates, not completely endogenic systems, which is a whole other topic.) Does this model only account for traumagenic headmates in the system?

Let's say you have a system with secondary dissociation, where they have multiple EPs and one ANP. Then that system uses Tulpamancy or Daemonism to create a helpful headmate. Did they just... give themselves tertiary dissociation? Because it seems like the new headmate would be considered an ANP under this theory, right?

To be fair, this latter hypothetical is also a problem with how OSDD-1 is classified right now. (An OSDD-1a system doesn't meet the criteria for DID because they lack distinct "personality states." They could make a tulpa and then they technically have DID. I guess a second hot take is that this is why I don't think DID and OSDD-1a should be considered separate disorders.)

I feel like most people in the community either completely supports the TOSD or hates it, and maybe it's because I'm largely an outsider, but I just find it largely too simplistic. It's not maliciously bad, and It certainly has some truth to it.

And as far as poor comparisons to the theory of evolution goes, a lot has already been said on this, but it's also worth pointing out that Darwin was also wrong about a lot in his initial theory. Our modern understanding of evolution is vastly different from Darwin's. That's just how science works.

I don't hate the theory, but I do think that people should be prepared for a lot to get thrown out, revised or replaced.

Just embrace the change as it comes. Don't be like the past generations who thought the science they learned was unchanging, and then acted shocked the moment new things were learned and revised to reflect that new understanding and Pluto suddenly wasn't a planet anymore. 😁

[aminiatureworld]

Affection

Characters: Albedo, Beidou, Keqing, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,705

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: More “new” characters! I’ve been neglecting Keqing and Beidou, they deserve some love. I hope as always their characterizations live up to expectations! This was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t tell whether to make this melancholy or fluffy, so I guess I half-and-half-ed it. Best of both worlds, right? Although the tone feels definitely lighter.

Albedo

Your friends never could figure out why you were flirting with Albedo.

“That alchemist has nothing on his mind but work,” one of them once told you, “he’ll never reciprocate your feelings you know.”

“I know.” You’d replied, smiling the sort of smile people put on when they’re trying to show they’re not annoyed. “I know he doesn’t like me in that way, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to.” You’d shrugged, shifting the conversation to some other topic. In all honesty, it wasn’t as if your friend was lying. But neither were you, not really. There wasn’t any good explanation for why you were flirting with Albedo after all. You knew that he’d never take it seriously, knew you weren’t good enough for it anyways. Maybe that’s why you flirted with him. Maybe it was better to make the slightest fool of yourself than drive yourself mad thinking about something that could never be.

So you continued on your merry, if slightly self-destructive way. Every time you saw Albedo, which was quite a bit considering the fact you were often posted around Dragonspine and spent a lot of your free time in the square right outside his office, you ran his way, asking him what he was doing, or telling him about your own day. You’d developed this habit of leaning in a bit whenever he spoke to you, and the slight pause he gave as his smile grew wider whenever you did made your heart soar.

Not that you ever started thinking there was ever a chance. I mean, come on. Albedo was Albedo and you were you. There was a great deal of distance between the two of you, as if you were standing on opposite sides of a bridge which was liable to fall at any moment. You could shout across at each other, but never did you attempt to walk over to him, knowing it’d surely result in disaster.

Still, why did you flirt with Albedo? The question sort of haunted you at times. You enjoyed his company, you’d even told him you enjoyed his company. He’d smiled his sedate smile, pausing for a moment to look away from the painting he was working on. “I enjoy your company too.” He’d said, before turning back to his work. It was a quiet, calm, even sort of response, just the sort you’d expected. And yet you kept going, and though you made no attempt to push the boundaries or go any farther, you still wondered at times what the point of it was.

Perhaps following that line of thought was a bit dangerous. You found the more you asked yourself what you expected out of your closeness with Albedo, the more absent you seemed to be. It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid him or anything, no quite the contrary. It was only that you tended to want to be alone when you were thinking about something like this. Reaching out was hard, especially to the person who you were thinking about.

“Are you alright?” You glanced up from the lunch you were pondering over to see Albedo leaning over you. Feeling your cheeks redden you jumped slightly.

“Albedo! Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings! Sit down!” You gestured vaguely to the spot on the bench next to you. Albedo smiled politely, sitting down as directed. He seemed to sober however once he was sitting, scanning your face for something, though you weren’t sure what that something was.

“You seem… absent recently, I was wondering if something was the matter.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine!” You shook your hands out in front of you. “I guess I’ve just been sort of busy recently, or maybe a little tired I guess. You know that the festival is coming up, right? Well Acting Grand Master Jean is really running us ragged! But I promise I’ll be back to normal soon!” You laughed awkwardly; it wasn’t as if you weren’t telling the truth per se, just… not the whole truth. But you’d rather not put all your troubles on Albedo, not when he was reaching out to see if you were okay. Smiling once more you attempted to switch topics. “How’s your research? Have you found something new while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, I’ve begun to study the reaction between macrophage and eukaryotic cells in contrast with prokaryotic cells, and how adding elemental effects to reactions either speeds up or slows down the reaction. But I’m glad to hear you’re alright,” Albedo seemed to relax a bit, leaning backwards slightly on the bench, “everything has been much quieter with you gone. It’s unnatural, I can’t focus as well. I keep finding myself distracted by little things. I look forward to participating in our conversations once more.”

“Well I’ll be there soon!” You promised, heart fluttering slightly. Did he really mean that? I mean sure, it didn’t mean anything more than what was on the tin. Your situation hadn’t changed that much. Still, it meant something to you that Albedo wasn’t just tolerating your presence, that he was actually somewhat involved in your friendship. “I promise I’ll have some very interesting topics of conversation when I come back.”

“Good.” Albedo nodded once more before smiling slightly sheepishly. “My workspace is currently going through a cleaning and the lab isn’t supposed to let any foreign substances in in; would you mind terribly if I ate with you?”

“Not at all!” You responded. “I love spending my free time with you. What have you brought?”

Why did you flirt with Albedo? Why did you seek out his presence despite you and everyone around you knowing full well that it was never going to come to anything? What did you even think of Albedo? Well you could answer that last one at least. You loved him. You loved him very much. And even if he didn’t reciprocate the way you did, even if your friends told you it was pointless and your mind chastised you for putting yourself through the ringer, even if all that was true, you weren’t going to stop. Because you were Albedo’s friend and he was yours. And for now that was enough.

Even if a part of you continued to hope that one day this would change.

 Beidou

Beidou was utterly out of your league and you knew it.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to after all. Brash, outspoken, good with a sword, Beidou embodied that sort of restless, self-reliant spirit you wish you yourself could emanate.

It didn’t hurt that Beidou had essentially rescued you from destitution, having found you languishing in a corner of one of the seedier docks of Liyue, and having taken you in quickly after the fact. You owed her a great deal, and was glad to do so. After all you’d fallen hopelessly in love with Beidou.

Life aboard a slightly illegal ship was bound to be an intimate one. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, and it was very difficult to find someone that hadn’t heard about your crush. Someone who wasn’t Beidou, that was. Although it wasn’t like you attempted to hide it; you just never brought it out in the open. And who could blame you? How could anyone who’d nearly died of starvation waiting for some sort of divine help compare to the bravest captain you’d ever met?

So you two settled into a routine of sorts, at least in your mind. You ate every meal as close to her as possible, something which had been difficult at first but as the “secret” spread around became almost comically easy, you discussed your plans with her first, gave her various trinkets you’d found in your travels, asked her opinions about your weapon then asked her to train with you. The training sessions had almost killed your resolve not to tell her, nothing was so intimate as having someone constantly checking your posture, moving and arm here a leg there, closely monitoring how you moved and acted.

All the while you said nothing. It felt selfish after all to even think about it. Beidou had many a time told her crew that they were one big family. On top of the obviously platonic motives behind her love for you, you weren’t about to impose on the crew by trying to take the spot as favorite or partner. It’d make you feel sleazy.

But damn if sometimes your resolve wasn’t tempted. It was the night after a particularly successful raid, and everyone was drunk out of their minds. Even you were tipsy, although compared to the rest you were positively sober. Sitting next to Beidou, who was walking up and down the tables making speeches of various levels of comprehensibility, you thanked the archons above that this woman had saved you. It was all worth the pain and suffering, if only to see her smile, which was blinding at the moment.

“You were brave, my dear compatriots! Distinguished! Honored! Positively courageous!” Beidou let out a slight “hic”, her vocabulary always did turn a bit grand when she drank too much. “Indeed, I’m sure not even the greatest of emperors had an army which could rival the visage of our band of brothers! Storming the deck, why we all might’ve perished! Damned visions, they’re for cheaters! For fraudsters! You all fight without them, and in doing so you prove yourself far more valiant, far more exemplary than they do!” Evidently Beidou had forgotten she herself was a vision wielder. Then again, so had everyone else.

“On this night of victory, of perilous and prestigious triumph, I wish to congratulate the greatest of warriors! This! My proverbial right hand man, the distinguished…” Beidou turned around towards you, gesturing in a very flamboyant sort of manner. You stood there, shocked by the sudden attention, blushing deeply, brain so filled with awe that you only half realized Beidou couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes! This person, this noble scalawag!” Beidou lifted you up so you were standing next to her, archons was she strong. “Now I don’t believe in laws, but if I did I’d marry them I would! You all ought to be more like them, mark my words I want to see some shaping up! There are no levels on this ship, but if there were they’d be higher than you all! Pay attention to my words, they are final!” And with that, speech apparently over, Beidou planted a soft, if slightly messy, kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the people around you, you might’ve fainted.

The next day announced itself with a headache, though as the least hungover of the group you were put in charge of dishing out the medicine and water. The whole ship appeared to be groaning, and though the crew was usually quite active and excited at almost any hour of the day, you could tell that most of the men and women just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“Captain wants to see you when you’re done with your rounds.” There were a few other people helping you out, and the one that informed you about this raised an eyebrow as you promptly turned white as a sheet, before a splotchy shade of red covered your face. What was she going to say? Had she remembered what had happened the night before? You admitted to yourself that maybe banking on Beidou forgetting was a doomed cause from the start. Beidou was perhaps brash and a lover of alcohol, but her memory was sharp, and she somehow managed to never drink herself to total incompetence. If you challenged a drunk Beidou to a duel your chances were going to be about the same as if you’d challenged her sober. Hell maybe they’d be even worse. With that grim thought in mind you distributed the last of the medicine, wiping your hands needlessly on your clothes before walking towards the captain’s cabins.

You loved Beidou’s cabins, they somehow seemed both incredibly grand and inexplicably homey. With furniture made out of a plush and luxurious red sort of material, it was nonetheless crowded by knickknacks; drawings, carvings, and other such paraphernalia littered the shelves and the dressers. Beidou had once told you almost all of it was from current or former shipmates. The luxuries they stole had no use in her home.

“Captain Beidou?” You ventured. The captain was at her desk, scribbling out something, probably a plan. She loved to plan in her free time, whether or not the plan was something doable or a total fantasy. Now she looked up, setting her pen down and smiling her classic, cocky grin.

“Ah, my favorite shipmate. How’re we feeling today?”

“W-well!” You managed to get out, a bit distracted by the nickname. Ah, it seemed she had remembered at least part of it. “Um, captain, I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been thinking since last night, thinking a great deal, and I was wondering, what would you think to becoming my partner, in a, well, romantic sort of sense.”

“So suddenly?” You replied, eyes widening but nevertheless cracking a smile. Beidou’s confession had been blunt, devoid of all the usual flourishes. And yet it was what you wanted, what you’d always wanted.

“Well why not?” Beidou shrugged nonchalantly. “After all considering how you’ve been acting towards me for the past few months, I figured why not become my partner. Unless I’ve been reading you wrong of course.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “I mean yes, I mean, well yes to the first and no to the second. I’d love to become your partner, and you haven’t been reading me wrong.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I just figured I wasn’t good enough. I mean you’re… you. And besides, you said we were all a family. I figured you wouldn’t want me as a partner.”

Beidou raised her eyebrow slightly as her smile melted into a smirk. Shaking her head slightly she approached you, raising your gaze every so slightly. “Well I can tell you right now I’m not too good for you. Not only are you good with a weapon, but you’re about as tough and fearless as they come. I don’t want to hear about how you’re secretly scared or whatnot. Everyone is that doesn’t matter. But you fight well and without second thought. And I admire that. And as for the speech about family, well a romantic partner is family of some kind. Besides the crew won’t mind, they’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I guess they have.” You blushed; apparently Beidou hadn’t been as uninformed as you thought.

“Any last words before you’re my partner?” Beidou’s smile was as wide as you’d ever seen it and just as infectious; you grinned back.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now,” Beidou smiled, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and then a peck on your lips – something which left you grasping for coherent thought “let’s tell the others.”

 Keqing

Working with Keqing was an experience akin to slowly dying inside.

You’d become somewhat enamored with the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing ever since you’d first met her. Her brusque and honest manner was refreshing, and when listening to her talk about the archons, about Liyue, about how the past and the present tied together, you never really seemed to question her. She always gave off the impression of intelligence, and, unlike some others you’d met, she had the brains to back it up. And what could you say? Before you knew it you had a crush on her.

Yet working with her showed other sides of Keqing too. She was very self-conscious when it came to compliments. Not that she minded them per se, as one time you’d asked her if your constant praise was a bother. “I just never know how to respond.” She’d admitted, and to be fair you understood that. But as long as she told you she liked them you’d compliment her.

Of course you knew it could never go beyond that. Keqing was your coworker; she was your superior in almost every way, both in occupation and in character. She never lost her cool or found herself off guard when fighting treasure hoarders or when dealing with rowdy citizens. She was efficient, capable, and aware of her incredible abilities. And she didn’t feel the need for a partner, something she had told you every time someone else worked up the courage to ask her out. You couldn’t bring yourself to impose on her like they did, not when you knew what her answer would be.

It was a slightly disheartening existence, and indeed sometimes you wondered what the point of it was, wondered if you shouldn’t just quit. But that wouldn’t be fair, not to Liyue, and not to Keqing herself. She relied upon the other members of the Liyue Qixing  to work efficiently and without sudden disruption. And the sudden quitting of someone who was hardly at the bottom of the ranks would’ve certainly done just that.

Besides, Keqing was first and foremost your friend. It was a bit of a fragile friendship, yes, but it was friendship nonetheless; and you valued that friendship well above your own infatuation. If you had to bottle your feelings up so be it. You owed it to Keqing to keep it together, to not impose on her what she obviously didn’t want and to not punish her for it by drawing away. So it hurt, so what? A lot of things hurt, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or experiencing. And this was certainly one of those things.

It was late evening, and most of the cubicles were dark. You sat, writing the last few sentences of a report, trying to ignore the headache that had been developing since earlier that day. A friend had attempted to set you up on a blind lunch date, and though you appreciated their motive the whole thing had been a chore, and now you were late on your work.

“Almost done?” Keqing’s voice broke through your mental grumblings. Looking up at her you nodded, and Keqing smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Can’t have one of our best workers getting sick on account of working too hard.”

“I won’t get sick.” You assured her. Finally stamping the paper you let out a sigh leaning back in your chair.

“A difficult day?”

“You could say that,” you admitted, “a friend went on a slightly appreciated but incredibly unnecessary mission to get me to go out on a date. Honestly, I’d rather her just treat me to lunch.”

“I can understand the feeling.” Keqing frowned in sympathy. “People are too obsessed with the idea of romance, so much so it blinds them. There are more important things in this world.”

“I’d say most people consider love pretty important.” You commented. Keqing shook her head in response.

“Perhaps, but aren’t ideals better than individual wishes? Romance may be fun, perhaps, but there are other things to consider. Besides, I find your company far more enjoyable than I would any date.”

“You do?” You responded, heart fluttering slightly; you hoped Keqing didn’t notice the blush spreading across the bridge of your nose and coloring your cheeks. Luckily it was slightly dark in the office.

“Oh certainly,” Keqing waved her hand dismissively, “you’re the best coworker and friend I’ve ever had. No significant other could give me advice like you do, or help me so much when I’m struggling with work or with my thoughts, and dates are so formal and boring and awkward compared to spending an afternoon with you. Really I’m perfectly content relationship wise with our friendship. Relationships are full of pitfalls, people keeping this little thing from their partner, or omitting that little act. No, better to have an open and supportive friendship like we do.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You replied, and really you did. You’d known since day one that a romantic relationship was off the table. So if you could stay by Keqing’s side and support her, if only a little longer, then you’d be perfectly content.

Even if a part of you still wished that things could’ve been different.

 Zhongli

To be fair to Zhongli you weren’t sure how much he understood of any type of human relationship. The fact that the Geo Archon had befriended you in the first place was an achievement in itself.

And yet he had befriended you, and soon you’d found yourself falling in love with the slightly aloof, slightly out of touch geo archon. Zhongli was much more than that of course. Surprisingly open, the ex-deity took to finding out information about humanity with zeal. Always eager to ask you questions and to hear about how your day had gone or how you felt after something particularly happy or sad or gratifying, Zhongli had morphed into a pseudo confidante for you. Someone you found yourself relying on more and more. His gentle nature didn’t hurt either, or his looks for that matter; all in all Zhongli seemed like the perfect sort of person, and though you knew that you’d never be able to measure up to an archon, you found yourself unable to suppress the overwhelming love you felt for him.

Zhongli didn’t seem to mind your openness at all, indeed he sort of relished it, or at least he seemed to. Every time you reached out to grab his hand he gladly slipped it into yours, and whenever you ran up and hugged him after a long period of not seeing one another he always hugged you back. He’d eat lunches with you, and sometimes dinners, and sometimes weekends were spent running around Liyue, or at home listening to one another’s stories or reading one another’s books. It’s truly a magical sort of feeling to share a book with someone. But then again with Zhongli everything seemed magical.

Of course affection aside the whole matter never crossed the line of friendship. You never told him of your affections, and in return Zhongli never initiated anything further than conversation. Not that it bothered you; you felt there was a bit of a gap between you and Zhongli. After all surely it was idealization which caused you to recognize that someone like Rex Lapis had no want or inclination towards engaging in a relationship with a mere mortal. Facts are facts, and there’s no changing them, no matter how much you wanted to.

And yet how odd fate is.

“What is being in love like?”

You looked up at Zhongli, trying desperately to act as if you hadn’t felt your heart rate spike to unhealthy levels.

“Uhm… what do you mean what is love like?”

“I’ve noticed mortals are very enamored with love. I have to admit, my experience with romance is minimal; archons and adepti seldom see romance as something that affects them. But I want to know, as a human, what is love like to you?” There was no mockery or sense of superiority in Zhongli’s face. Not that you expected there to be. Zhongli never looked down upon humans as unequal. Many times he’d told you he admired them. Taking a breath you thought of your answer.  

“Well… hmm. Love is very different for everyone. To some love is like an inferno; it’s very sudden and very intense. It sort of burns them up, it’s all they think about. I think that’s less love, more infatuation, but to some that is indeed love. To others love is sort of… staid. It’s being able to rely on them, to talk to them about anything and everything without feeling embarrassed or like you have to put on some sort of show. It’s knowing that there’s someone who will always side with you or help you realize what’s right, or be there when you feel terrible. To them love isn’t passionate, it’s comforting.”

“And to you?” Zhongli interrupted, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

“Well to me it’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose to most people it’s somewhere in the middle. And this is only romantic love after all. Love is so big, so all encompassing, I think it’s hard to pin down. But to me romantic love is both; it is the passion that causes people to do crazy things and espouse crazy sorts of ideals, and it is the staid comfort of knowing there is someone who will always understand you, and always support you in that understanding.” You paused, realizing you’d been prattling on a bit. “Why, may I ask? Is there a reason you want to know.”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, voice slightly less calm than usual. “I, I’ve been thinking about my feelings towards someone a great deal recently; they’ve been alien, although not distressing per se. They feel as if I’m always on some sort of edge, but I don’t feel upset by it. Instead I want to approach it, want to be around the person who makes me feel that way. I wanted to understand that emotion more. I wondered if it was love. Thank you for answering my question, it was most enlightening.”

“That person must be very lucky.” You replied, keeping your tone as light as possible, trying to ignore your emotions, which had risen and dropped so very quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to lay off on the affection now. Part of love is sometimes being a little bit jealous, at least in the beginning, at least for some people. It’s silly, really, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zhongli’s tone was surprisingly wry, as if there was a joke somewhere you’d missed.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Because the person whom I was enquiring about is you.”

Honestly you would’ve been less surprised if Zhongli had told you that he was going to run away from Liyue and join the circus. All you could manage to sputter out was: “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Zhongli chuckled slightly. He raised his hand, gloved fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I’ve suspected it for some time, but I wanted to be sure. Are you alright with me telling you this?”

Alright? You were over the moon! Had you ever been this happy before? You weren’t sure, but you were happy now.

“Of course it’s alright. Zhongli, I’ve liked you for months now.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Zhongli tilted his head slightly in confusion. You stared down at your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I mean you’re an archon and I’m a mortal. I’m hardly different from the other people of Liyue, and I just, I don’t know, I was scared of rejection, I was scared you’d think I was overstepping and that our friendship would crumble. And I didn’t think I could stand that.”

At first Zhongli said nothing, instead he held out his hand. You gladly placed your palm in his, comforted by its warmth.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself so cheaply,” Zhongli spoke softly, “there are a great many extraordinary things about you. Your affectionate nature, your determination to live even when the world is dark and dangerous, your willingness to open your heart to some ancient archon who knows little of humans. If that’s not extraordinary, I don’t know what is. I don’t feel towards anyone as I do towards you, at least I haven’t in a long time. So don’t think of yourself that way anymore, please.”

“I won’t.” You replied. And it was true. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, not anymore. Zhongli would make sure of that, already you could tell.

To some love burns like fire in the mind, to other it wraps you up in a blanket of comfort. You felt incredibly lucky, for you despite yourself demanded both, and somehow fate had bestowed it upon you. And for that you would be forever grateful.

[fridayfirefly]

All For The Investigation

Read All For The Investigation on AO3

Masterlist

By Tim’s calculations, there was an 87% certain that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the Parisian former hero Ladybug. However, 87% was not 100%, so Bruce required further investigation. Damian was stuck with the job.

Except, Damian knew that stuck wasn't exactly the right word. Stuck implied that he was displeased with the situation. Damian wasn't displeased. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the most pleasant person in all of Gotham Academy. If Damian had to choose anyone to be forced to spend time with, he would choose Marinette. Though he grumbled about being forced to spend time with plebeians (for the benefit of his brothers, who would mercilessly tease Damian if they even suspected that he had a crush), Damian was quite pleased by the assignment.

Given that Marinette was in his history class, it was quite easy to arrange a situation in which they were forced to be in each others' proximities. When their teacher announced that there would be an upcoming group project with randomly assigned partnerships, it was simple for Damian to break into her office and switch around some of the names. When the partnerships were announced and Marinette and Damian were paired together, Damian made his move.

"Dupain-Cheng, if you would like to work on the project over the weekend, we can do so at my house."

"Sounds good, Wayne, but you know, you can just call me Marinette," said Marinette with a smile.

Damian felt flustered, which was a very bad sign. He never felt anything less than perfectly composed. "Then you may call me Damian."

Marinette's smile got even bigger. There was a feeling in his chest that, had it been caused by anyone else, Damian would have suspected it to be a complication of the broken ribs from Joker's last attack. "Let me give you my number, and we can plan a meeting this weekend. Would Saturday work for you?"

Damian nodded as he handed Marinette his phone. "My schedule is free on Saturday."

"Great!" chirped Marinette. She plugged in her number, then posed for a picture, explaining that it was, "For the contact photo."

And if in the privacy of his bedroom, Damian stared at that contact photo for twenty-minutes straight, it was just for research purposes. Just to compare Marinette's facial structure to that of Ladybug. Completely normal investigative business.

The next morning, Damian found his way to the bedroom of his most tolerable brother. "Grayson. Can I confide in you without any of the information getting to anyone else?"

Richard glanced up from his laptop. "Sure thing, Baby Bird." He patted a spot on the bed next to him,

"Don't call me that. I despise nicknames," grumbled Damian. He took a seat, staring at the wall in front of him, still weighing the risk versus reward of talking to Richard. If his brother had some technique for extinguishing romantic interest it would solve Damian's problem. However, if either Drake or Todd got word of Damian's crush there was no doubt in Damian's mind that they would never let him hear the end of it.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It pertains to the girl in my who Drake suspects to be Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She has become difficult to investigate. I have found myself unable to observe her objectively."

Richard frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean. Is it something that she did that's bothering you?"

Damian searched for the right words to explain the situation. He was not usually so tongue-tied, but the proper words seemed to escape him at every turn. "Dupain-Cheng is not what I expected. I assumed that it would be a simple task, to observe her and determine whether she has any connection to the Parisian superhero. However, I have found it difficult to concentrate on my mission when I am around her."

"You find it difficult to concentrate when you're around her. How so?"

Damian gritted his teeth. He didn't want to spell out his crush so obviously, but Richard seemed incapable of looking between the lines. "I have found myself preoccupied with trivial things like getting to know her personality, rather than investigating her background. She makes me feel... flustered."

Damian could see the moment that Richard made the connection. His brother's face lit up as he exclaimed, "You have a crush on her?!"

"Quiet!" snapped Damian. "This does not leave this room. I need to learn how to get rid of it, so I can get back to completing the mission."

Richard was grinning ear to ear. "That's not how crushes work. You can't just snap your fingers and have them disappear. The only thing that can get rid of a crush is time. Or sometimes if they get a haircut that kills the feeling. But mostly it just takes time."

"I cannot afford to wait for these feelings to fade. I'll look into scheduling her a haircut." Damian stood up, resolved to get rid of his crush before Marinette came over later that day to work on their project.

"No wait," Richard grabbed Damian's arm. "I doubt that your attraction to her is so shallow that a haircut would destroy the feelings you have for her. This is something that you'll have to talk to her about."

Damian frowned. "Perhaps I should give the mission to someone else. Jon could transfer to Gotham Academy for the semester. His detective skills are lacking but his judgment would be less clouded than mine. If I ignore her for long enough I'm sure that I can evade talking about my feelings."

"Why don't you just ignore the mission for a few weeks while you get to know her."

Damian fixed Richard with a death glare. "I cannot ignore this mission. Father gave it to me personally."

"How about twenty-four hours? You spend the next twenty-four hours in getting-to-know-her mode rather than background-check mode and at the end of it, we can regroup and decide what to do next. If you actually get to know her, you'll better understand the depths of your feelings. Once you have that understanding, you'll be able to see if waiting out your crush is a viable option or if you need to pass on the responsibilities to someone else."

It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than anything Damian had come up with. Anything that could potentially alleviate Damian's inability to focus on the investigation was worth trying. "Fine," Damian replied curtly. "Thank you for your assistance."

"No problem," said Richard. "You know, I would love to get to meet Marinette sometime."

"Don't push your luck," grumbled Damian, ignoring Richard's laughter as he stood up and left the room. There would be no way to hide the fact that Marinette was coming over to the Manor from his family. There was also no way that his family wouldn't intrude upon Damian and Marinette as they worked. However, if he explained everything beforehand and phrased everything in precisely the right way, he might be able to pass off his odd behavior towards Marinette as a part of his investigation. Damian pulled out his phone and composed a text to send to the family groupchat.

Damian: Dupain-Cheng is coming to the Manor at approximately 22:00 to work on a history project. I will be covertly conducting my investigation. From what I have gathered, she would respond better to subtle questioning, rather than a straightforward interrogation.

Tim: wait does subtle interrogation mean that you'll be flirting with her???

Jason: I need to see this

Steph: I'm willing to bet money that his flirting offends Marinette so much she storms out of the Manor before Damian can finish the mission

Dick: No way. I'll bet 20 dollars that his flirting works too well

Steph: done

Damian huffed, half tempted to call off his meeting with Marinette. His siblings were insufferable.

Damian: Please refrain from intervening. Confirming that Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug is a vital first step in determining whether the Justice League needs to interfere in the affairs of the Order of the Miraculous.

Bruce: Damian is correct. No one will bother him while he is working with Marinette.

Damian smirked as he turned his phone off. His plan wasn't foolproof, of course, but a direct order from Bruce to not interfere would force his siblings to be more subtle about spying on him and Marinette. The chance of him being interrupted was significantly decreased.

Damian got everything set up in the den, which was only ever used on family movie night. It was perfectly situated for the task at hand - a room small enough to be classed as cozy but big enough to not feel cramped. It was out of the way, surrounded by other equally unused rooms, so his siblings would have no excuse for lurking in the hallway outside. Damian brought in snacks, chargers, and a few books from the Wayne Manor library on Renaissance Art, the topic of their project.

Marinette arrived promptly at 2 in the afternoon, holding a Tupperware container full of gingerbread cookies, with a smile on her face. "Hi, Damian. I brought cookies."

None of his planning accounted for this moment, for first laying eyes on Marinette. Damian froze up, desperate to put the right words in the right order. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette. I have everything set up in the den if you'll just follow me."

"Sure." Marinette toed off her black boots and arranged them on the shoe tray next to the door. She was left in sage green cat-print socks that matched the rest of her outfit, a pine green sweater and black jeans. Damian couldn't help but wonder if she knit the sweater herself - Marinette's talent for designing was well-known throughout Gotham Academy, as it was what got her accepted into the prestigious high school in the first place.

Marinette followed Damian through the Manor, complimenting little details that Damian had never noticed before - the pattern of the curtains, the bay window in a sitting room that Damian had never bothered to enter, the family pictures that lined the wall in the hallway. Marinette made it seem so obvious to pay attention to those little details. Damian wished that he could see the Manor for the first time through her eyes and feel the same amazement that she felt as she oohed and awed over the decadence that Damian had considered banal.

Damian was so captivated by Marinette that he almost missed the fact that Drake and Brown were lurking in the study across the hall from the den. A text to his father about the gravity of his mission would be enough to get them sent away on some inconsequential but time-consuming task. Damian would have to find an inconspicuous time to pull out his phone during their work on the project to let his father know about their intrusion.

"Now I know why you call it Wayne Manor. This place is huge." Marinette shrugged off her backpack and set it down on the coffee table next to her container of cookies.

"Its size is entirely unnecessary for ordinary life," agreed Damian. "However, it makes for very challenging games of hide-and-seek."

Marinette giggled. "That sounds like fun. You'll have to invite me next time you play."

"I'll make sure of it." Damian smiled, surprised to find that his happiness wasn't forced. He rarely engaged in childish behavior, and even more rarely did he find any enjoyment in it. Yet the mental image of playing a child's game with Marinette was pleasant to him. The feelings he had for her were deeper than Damian anticipated.

The pair got to work on their project. Damian sent out the text to his father as soon as he opened his laptop, leaving Marinette under the impression that he was researching sources. A series of irritable texts in the family groupchat confirmed the fact that Drake and Brown had been removed from their hiding spot.

"Do you want to try a cookie?" asked Marinette, pushing the Tupperware towards Damian.

"Thank you." Damian took one, just to be polite. Growing up in the League of Assassins, he never really had a taste for sweets. Alfred's baking was the extent of what he would tolerate. He took a bite - small, to back up his claim that he already ate if it turned out to be inedible. Surprisingly, it was nearly as good as Alfred's gingerbread cookies, and those were tailer made to Damian's taste. The cookies were heavy on the ginger and cloves, just as Damian liked. "These are delicious," Damian professed.

Marinette blushed. "Thanks. I know they taste a little different than store-bought gingerbread. My parents make them with a lot of ginger."

"These are much superior to store-bought cookies."

"Thanks. You know, you're a lot nicer outside of school. You always seemed kind of grumpy in class."

"I'm not a fan of the state-mandated curriculum."

Marinette nodded. "I get what you mean. I barely have any room in my schedule for my design classes, with all the mandatory classes that Gotham Academy makes us take. I'm lucky that I have my internship, otherwise, I think I would go crazy, taking so many classes that I don't care about."

"Your internship is with Audrey Bourgeoise, isn't it?"

Marinette nodded. "I was friends with her daughter, back in Paris. Originally it was going to be a four-year internship in New York City, but I renegotiated some of the terms so that I could do the first two years in Paris, then the last two in Gotham, while she established the new branch of her company."

"You renegotiated the terms of a prestigious internship at the age of fourteen? Weren't you afraid of losing it if you pushed too hard?"

Marinette shrugged, nonchalant as if it were normal for an intern to make such a bold move. "I didn't want to leave Paris. My whole life was there. I wasn't ready to just pick up and move to a new country."

"What changed that you were able to come to Gotham?"

"There were a lot of reasons. Hawkmoth was the biggest one. I felt nervous about leaving my family and friends behind when he was terrorizing the city. After he was defeated I felt a lot more comfortable leaving."

That aligned with the theory that Marinette was Ladybug. "What were the other reasons?"

"My age was one. I didn't feel ready to leave home at fourteen and my parents didn't like the idea of me leaving home that young either. Another big one was the fact that I didn't have a good handle on my personal style. I was worried that designing full-time in Audrey Bourgeoise's office would cause me to lose my originality. The worst thing I could imagine was watering down my designs to appeal to the rest of the fashion industry."

"Your conviction is impressive. Most in your position would not worry about selling out to obtain such a highly coveted position."

"Audrey said the same thing, though when she said it, she spoke it with annoyance, not admiration. I've never been highly motivated by wide-spread success. I don't need to be a household name to feel content with life. I just want to design clothes that I'm proud of."

The fluttering feeling in Damian's chest returned with full force, alongside a tendril of anger at the unfairness of the situation. Here was the most perfect person Damian had ever laid his eyes on, and he was forced to pick her apart piece by piece to figure out her deepest darkest secrets. Damian didn't know much about relationships, but this didn't seem like the way they were supposed to go.

"You look upset," Marinette's observation was tinged by the worry in her voice.

"I'm not upset," he assured her. "I was just wondering how I never noticed how interesting you are."

Marinette flushed, her cheeks turning pink. "What does that mean?"

Damian shrugged. While his nonchalant attitude was all a bluff, his admiration of her accomplishments was all real. "Most of our classmates feel accomplished with the most conventional of achievements. Yet you secured an internship at the side of one of the most renowned fashion critics in the world and you still stay humble about it. You weren't blind-sighted by the incredible opportunity. You fought to maintain your values, no matter if it meant losing something priceless."

Marinette's blush deepened. "That's just who I am. It's not special, it's me."

"It is you," agreed Damian. "And it is special."

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by the emotion in his words. "We should get back to work," she said, self-consciously rubbing one cheek with the sleeve of her green wool sweater.

"Of course," Damian amicably agreed. He had pushed far enough for intel and had managed to get to know her a little better in the process. His flirting wasn't as blatant as it could have been, but it got the job done. Richard had said that once he knew the depths of his feelings he would know what to do. Richard was right. Damian's feelings were seemingly endless, a maze of all the things he liked about Marinette, in which every corner he turned was a new quirk that he couldn't un-notice. Yet Damian didn't want to pass on the responsibility of investigating Marinette to anyone else. He wanted a reason to spend time with her.

It wasn't the best situation. Damian wished that he could get to know her organically. However, Damian wasn't the type to dwell on the could-have-been. He had an opportunity to get to know Marinette right in front of him and he wasn't going to let it go.

Hours later, after Marinette went home, Richard stopped him in the hallway. "So what did you learn?"

"My investigation has proven inconclusive. I need to further get to know Marinette Dupain-Cheng if I want to uncover her identity. For research purposes, of course."

Richard laughed. "Of course."

[iibislintu]

I just sent this to my boss and colleagues, and maybe someone else could benefit from it too.

Hi!

It seems that I'm running into smaller and bigger conflicts with students, parents and colleagues this year because of misunderstandings in communication.

Because of this, I wanted to write to you a bit about communication as an autistic person, in case you're not already very familiar with Autism Spectrum Disorder.

Here are a few general phenomena that I've noticed in myself, in other autistics, and also in literature/research by/about us.

I'm not an expert in anyone's autism, not even my own, so please take this as coming from personal experience, not a General Theory About Autism.

--

- we may take things very literally, part one. For example, if you say, "I would like you to do X", may mean to us, "I am telling you about my thoughts." We may reply, "ok, thanks for telling", and leave it at that, because we didn't recognise your sentence as a request.

SOLUTION: frame your requests with "please", etc.

--

- we may take things very literally, part two. For example, if you say, "I wonder what the weather will be like tomorrow", we may already be reaching for our phone's weather app because we want to help you with your query. We may not recognise the sentence as a conversation starter but interpret is as a question.

SOLUTION: use direct language, for example, "hi, do you have a moment to talk?" (Also, note that "how are you" may be taken as an invitation to share personal details, not as a "hi", like many neurotypicals seem to use it.)

--

we may take things very literally, part three. There is no "between the lines" for us. If you tell us something, we assume that's what you mean. In addition, when we speak to you, there's nothing hidden between the lines. We say what we mean and we mean what we say.

SOLUTION: explain what you mean when speaking to us; and if you receive a communication from us that you feel might include some kind of hidden message, please ask us for clarification.

--

- we may not recognise facial expressions, postures, inflections, etc. For example, the so called "passive aggressive" messaging may go unnoticed from us, because we simply hear/read the words, not the other stuff that neurotypical people tend to notice.

SOLUTION: when talking with us, imagine writing a text message to us. Include everything you want to convey, in the actual words.

--

- we may ask for highly detailed instructions for tasks that seem straightforward to neurotypical people. This is because we can come up with a thousand different ways to do the task, and want to make sure we choose the right way. For example, when the Education Department instructed teachers to come up with seating orders last autumn, I spent a whole night planning my class's seating order so that one table would consist of "Spanish-readers who go to Ethics", another table of "French-readers who go to Religion", etc., so that the seating order would cover ALL possible situations. Then next morning, after getting gray hairs from the task, I heard that it wasn't actually meant to go like that.

SOLUTION: make sure your instructions are detailed enough, and be patient with us when we ask for more details. We aren't doing it to spite you.

--

- we may be uncomfortable with making eye contact. I mean, it can feel painful. OR we may try to present as "normal", and end up staring at you for awkward periods of time.

SOLUTION: you've been taught that "avoiding eye contact is a sign of untrustworthiness." Please forget that right now; it's harmful. Also, maybe don't tell a student to "look at me when I'm talking" and especially "look me in the eye".

--

- we may ignore rules/orders that we don't understand, simply because we don't know how to obey them (see "highly detailed instructions"). On the other hand, we may be sticklers for rules we do understand, because rules and routines help us feel safer.

SOLUTION: see "highly detailed instructions", also, "inner motivation" is a big thing. We may not care about outer/arbitrary motivational things.

--

- we may find chairs or other seating arrangements uncomfortable and fidget/get restless when sitting down for extended periods of time. This doesn't mean we don't respect the speaker, but it more to do with how our brains are wired. Remember that autism is a neurological phenomenon, and our brains actually are different from neurotypical brains.

- in a related issue, we may be hyper/hyposensitive to sensory input. We may experience loud noises as painful, bright lights (or ordinary lights) as blinding, food as choking... For example, I always carry a Spork with me in case the school cafeteria is using those single-use wooden forks. I can't touch them because they make me puke. Different wiring again.

SOLUTION: take us seriously if we mention sensory issues to you or fidget or move in our seats. We aren't doing it to annoy you.

--

Thanks for reading! If you have anything you'd like to ask, please do! I'm not an expert or a professional in neuropsychiatric stuff, but I do have a lot of lived experience on the topic.

XOXO,

Selja

[glitternightingale]

I just had a train of thought run away from me and I needed to share it with someone who is more talented than I, as well as open minded. I thought of you first lol

I don't know a way to say this delicately and I hope I don't offend anyone (I am always terrified of this happening lol) so I'll just say it:

What if Antonio had been born with Down Syndrome?

Pepa had Antonio at age 45, which is extremely late and at much higher risk for birth defects and complications. A family friend had a baby at the same age and her sweet daughter was born with Down Syndrome.

I'm just imagining sweet little Antonio with Downs not being much different than he is now, just a sweet, caring, considerate little boy who's afraid of disappointing his family but cares so much about all of them.

I'm also thinking about this extremely popular Disney movie having representation for kids with Down Syndrome and I love Antonio's character the way he is of course but it makes me sad to think of this missed opportunity.

Please tell me if this is way overstepping because I'm in love with this headcanon but I'm nervous it's crossing a line.

What do you think? :3

I think it's a wonderful idea.

You shouldn't be ashamed of abstract concepts that simply pop into your mind. You are human and are allowed to self-project, to find similarities between a work of art and your own life. You are allowed to want to explore the things that interest you even if there is no direct connection between them and real experiences.

For example, I have personally never dealt with EDs before and haven't made the acquaintance of a person with Down Syndrome yet. That's why I'm very open to criticism of how I portray them and love debates. I want to learn something and get in contact with people who can tell me more about the topics I'm interested in. However, since no extremes are ideal, I always try to find a middle ground between external opinions and my feelings of what I think is right.

What's more is, according to how you wrote your ask, you have no intention of causing harm! I can only encourage you to pursue this headcanon and make it visible in form of notes, fanfictions, ramblings, etc. because you might just make many people very happy who have longed for that exact representation.

Here are some questions that might help you structure your thoughts:

how would the Madrigal family dynamics look?

what (physical) adjustments would have to be made inside the house?

what could accommodating conversations be like?

Of course, this is very superficial since I haven't done my own research on Down Syndrome so, if possible, tell me about your ideas! Keep me updated!

Because now you ignited a spark in me, too. 💖

[sweetiejunie]

Txt reaction to having a smart s/o

Genre: fluff

💕 Requested: txt reaction to SO who is really educated/working on her masters/does well in school/research - can code n all that jazz

A/n: repost cause it wasn’t showing up in search results. I thought it would fix itself like usual but it didnt :’)

======================================

Intellect

—.*•—

Yeonjun

He’s never asked too much about your background

At least in terms of your education

He knew you studied part time for something having to do with computers, but not much of the specifics

One day he went over to your apartment announced to surprise you

Instead he found you on your living room floor aggressively typing something on your laptop

At first he thought a coworker had pissed you off and you replying with angry reply

But when he peeked at your screen he just saw lines and lines of text in different colours that he couldn’t understand

And that’s when he realised you were coding and honestly, he’d just be in awe

“Hey babe. When did you learn how to code?”

“Didnt i tell you i took a course for coding a while ago? I just do this for fun now.”

Well damn, he didn’t know he had someone so smart for a s/o

Instantly he would cancel whatever plans he initially had for the two of you and proceed to sit next to you and ask what every line you typed meant

“What’s this one mean?” He’d ask pointing to line you just typed

“That’s just for the colour of the words.”

And this went went on for almost every other line

—.*•—

Soobin

Soobin always loved listening to your random trivia knowledge

Like “soobin did you know that if you yawn when someone else yawns it shows you have empathy?”

Or “did you know that 210 stars explode every 7 seconds?”

And even the dumber ones like “did you know the game among us actually came out in 2018?”

And every time you said something like this out of the blue, he wouldn’t stop you

He loved listening to you talk about such things

He thought you were the cutest when you spoke about whatever it was going on in your mind

Sometimes he swears that you’re like a computer that has 20 different tabs open at once

Even when you would even speak for lengthy periods of time, he never cared, even if he didn’t remember much of what you said, he would still listen in the moment

Just smiling to himself and watching the gestures and facial expressions you would make

And let’s be real, he would be so much more distracted just watching you talk than actually trying to process what it was you’re saying

Loves to ask you random questions to see if you know the answers cause he knew how happy you were talking about these random topics

—.*•—

Beomgyu

He knew you were busy studying for your bachelors degree

But that doesn’t mean he wanted any less time with you

So he decided it would be a good idea to go look for you on your campus

After much wandering around and asking for directions to the science block, he eventually found you in one of the labs

He wasn’t allowed in — for obvious reasons — so he watched you from outside

You were wearing a lab coat and goggles, dissecting something that he couldn’t quite make out

In that moment he realised how hard you’ve been working, and how smart you actually were

He wouldn’t have a clue what to do in there, but everything was so natural for you

When you finally saw him on the other side of the window and exited the room he would pull you into a tight hug and tell you how proud he was

When you were actually done, he would ask you so many questions about what you studied and what you were doing

“I was just dissecting a mammal heart, my teacher wanted us to sketch out the pulmonary value in the right ventricle for our next class.”

He probably couldn’t understand half the words you were saying, but nontheless he still pretended like he did

—.*•—

Taehyun

You loved reading, be it fantasy books, mystery books, thriller books etc

But you never really read infront of taehyun before since you didn’t like having to carrying around a physical book everywhere

And taehyun never knew about this

That is until he went to your apartment and found the wall of books you had in your room

“Did you read all these?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re really interesting. I just finished reading ‘the shadows between us.”

He’s never been much of a fan of ‘reading for fun’

He never understood how looking at words on a white paper could be interesting, like theres a movie, why would you spend so many more hours reading it instead?

So he was somewhat shocked when he found out you did

He probably went on to ask you about the story and what happens in the book

And wants to borrow the book from you to give reading it a go

In the end, he ends up buying you so many new books. Whenever you go out together and pass by a book shop he would ask if you want to go in. Or if he’s alone and sees a book he thinks you’ll like he’ll just get it

—.*•—

Huening Kai

Caught you studying late one day, fast asleep on the textbook you were reading

He’s told you many times not to over do it, but you never listened

He carefully tucked you into bed and went back to keep your book

His eyes glanced over the page you were at and a picture of a dog caught his interest

Deciding to find out what you were studying, he read a page

The page spoke about ivan povlov and his work on classical conditioning

Honestly, he barely understood what it wrote and was thankful he didn’t have to study such things when he was in school

He’d be amazed how you could do this on the daily and even make notes about it

The next day he would ask you so many questions about it

Asking you who ivan pavlov was and how he could be so cruel to the dog and also about poor Little Albert

He’d be more concerned about the wellbeing of the subjects rather than the actual experiment.

======================================

Ik some of this wouldn’t be considered ‘smart’ but i just wanted to write them. Nonetheless hope u enjoyed this 💕

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - First Time With MC (Lemon)

(Author’s notes: These scenarios do NOT assume a gender for MC, but do write the boys penetrating the reader.)

– Zen –

This isn’t his first rodeo, but he’s not exactly experienced; he’s had, like, one-and-a-half relationships before you. It’s been years since he’s had partnered sex.

And he’s never had sex-ed, either, so his knowledge of the Nasty is kinda lacking. He thinks he can re-use condoms as long as he keeps it on, he believes coconut oil can be used with latex, he thinks birth control pills act as a spermicide, and so on.

You and him initiate sex pretty early on in the relationship, perhaps merely a few days after the RFA party. He’s very romantic about it, too, planning a whole day in advance with rose petals on the bed and scented candles dotting his room. But in the middle of making out, you ask if he’s clean, and he pulls back, confused. “... I think? I mean, I haven’t been with anybody in years, so ...”

Turns out he’s never been tested for STDs. He’s almost offended when you bring it up, like you’re insinuating he’s been cheating on you. You have to explain that getting tested is just what everyone does before having sex with someone for the first time. 

So ... he’s not tested. “Can we ... still do it?” He’s blushing like crazy now, embarrassed he’s so behind on the know-how when he’s the one who wanted this in the first place. 

Partnered sex can still be relatively safe even when an individual’s not been tested, so long as you use lots of protection. But depending on who you are, you might say no, just to be 100% safe. Either way, Zen’s disappointed - not in you, no way, but in himself. God, he’s been looking forward to this night for so long, and he fucked it up by being stupid. He stews in his thoughts silently for a while, and you can tell he’s feeling down so you cuddle him close to have a good long chat about sex, relationships, and communication. Afterwards, he feels much less insecure. The two of you take the rose petals and candles to the bathroom to enjoy your first romantic bath together, instead.

Two days later, he bounces back from the clinic with a negative on every test imaginable. It’s finally time to dig in, and go ham he does, passionately wrapping you into his arms while thrusting deep and slow, trying to have as much skin contact at all times. Oh, god, he loves you, and he’ll spend the whole night proving it.

(Except he definitely couldn’t last the whole night. Your first time having sex was a mere two turns before he clonked out. He’s still embarrassed about that.)

– Yoosung –

It’s his first time having sex, and he’s really nervous. He wants it, wants you badly, but oh my god what if he messes up? What if he farts? Or scratches you in the face? Or he thrusts weird and hurts you and you start bleeding or something?? Dear lord help him

He considers proposing sex like, eight different times. He’s always chickened out, just kissing you on the doorstep before saying goodbye, or letting you leave his dorm without offering to stay the night. It doesn’t help that his dorm is tiny, he’s got a twin bed barely big enough for him. And anybody passing by the door would hear what’s going on inside clear as day. Take his word on that.

He had spent several hours worth on his laptop, doing research on ‘how to have sex for the first time’. He’s got his list of positions to try, how to minimize pain and discomfort, etc, all memorized.. He eventually goes out to get condoms and lube, making sure to use the self-checkout. 

You and him are hanging out in his dorm after a date, and he wasn’t even planning to suck it up and ask you, but you saw the condoms in the shopping bag he forgot to stow away, and you asked him gently, “do you want to be intimate with me, Yoosung?”

He blushes like crazy, you could swear you saw steam lines radiating from his face. But you take his hand in encouragement and he nods eagerly, looking anywhere else but your eyes. “I - I really want this, MC. I’ve been thinking about this for so long ...”

You can tell he’s nervous. The two of you sit on his bed and talk explicitly about what he wants, how you should proceed, what lines to avoid, and lots of other important details. A safeword is confirmed; ‘server maintenance’. He feels much more confident. 

The two of you begin by just kissing on his bed, he slowly dares to feel up your shirt and eventually the clothes come off bit by bit. His body is lean and soft, and he’s loud, too. Just nipping at his pillowy tummy makes him cry out. 

You give him oral, and he’s twisting around, grabbing at pillows and sheets like he’s tumbling down a cliff. He comes without warning and collapses, wrung out and overwhelmed with pleasure. 

Some cuddling afterwards, and then he’s hard again and kissing at your neck. He asks you to ride him, and when you do, he’s sobbing without shame and grabbing hard at your hips.

Some time afterwards, when you and Yoosung are trying to cuddle on his bed without either of you toppling off, he remembers just how loud he’s been and dreads facing anybody in the building tomorrow. You just laugh and tuck him into the bedsheets.

– Jaehee –

She shyly shows off a beautiful new set of lingerie as her way of asking to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. And she’s a real bombshell in it. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Jaehee’s got a bod underneath her suit/cafe uniform.

Unlike certain younger boys, Jaehee didn’t feel the need to agonize over this night over a period of several months. This is a natural progression for her. Once things feel ready between the two of you, it’s natural that the question eventually comes up.

She first shows you her new lingerie in its original packaging, and waits to hear your ‘yes’. Then, it’s time to hop into the bathtub for a long soak and thorough wash before putting it on.

She also gets new toys. Entire shopping bags and shipping boxes filled with insertables, vibrators, pumps, impacts, (and also the supplies needed to maintain them). She didn’t come out and show you these all at once, she’d probably die of embarrassment if she did. But she had them all unwrapped, clean, tested, and ready to use in a discreet box.

You and she actually end up making out on the couch rather than the bedroom. She’s sitting in your lap dressed in her lingerie, you’re fully clothed, and things get so heated the two of you decide to go at it right there.

She’s surprisingly wild. She keeps as much of her lingerie on as possible, even while you’re knuckle deep or pelvis-to-pelvis. The floor is eventually lined with toys as one is used after the other. And she loves taking the initiative with a gentle but firm hand, directing the positions one after the other, or deciding what toy to be used where, and for how long.

A round on the couch, and Jaehee cools down long enough to freak out about staining the upholstery, so she ushers you into the bedroom while she busts out the Lysol. 

After she cleans up, she joins you on the bed for some belated cuddling, and perhaps a second round. Or three.

And it’s actually in the middle of the day, not during the night, so the two of you are completely worn out by dinnertime. Food is takeout, and there’s a lot of it because you need to replenish all that energy.  

Jaehee doesn’t get blushy until you feed her a bite of dessert. It’s cute how confident she is when it comes to sex, but shy about small acts of intimacy. 

– Jumin –

He’s not a virgin, (not that it’s any of your business, Luciel), he had sex with a random girl back in college just to see what the fuss was about, and nothing else since then.

Jumin’s a conservative guy. “Liberalism can only flourish with a good foundation of conservatism.” He believes unmarried couples shouldn’t live together. Of course he’s not gonna be fond of having sex before tying the knot.

It’s not like he rushed the engagement for that reason, but if he was perfectly honest, he did wake up in a cold sweat at 3am when he remembered that this meant the two of you would be intimate very soon. 

Jumin’s got that reputation for being some d/s sex-mad sadist daddy, but that’s not the full picture. You might be able to get him into that specific mood after the two of you establish your relationship more. But for the first few times, it’s all vanilla.

It takes a long while before the wedding actually happens. And, no, Jumin’s not gonna really want to have sex for that entire period. Sure, he’s excited about it, but it’s not a driving, burning need. You, on the other hand, might say differently. 

So if you don’t want to wait four to five months, you’re gonna have to breach the topic yourself. And he’ll be torn - on one hand, he rationally realizes that it’s completely harmless to have consensual sex without martial ties. But he also believes in that supposed virtue of being abstinent until marriage. He also liked the romance of waiting. It’d make the moment more special for him.

Either way, he’s excited. The bed’s furnished with fresh sheets, the lights are dimmed, and there’s five dozen roses in crystal vases throughout the bedroom. 

It’ll start with wine while sitting on the bed - if you don’t drink, you have a glass of something you prefer while he’s sipping on some $12,000 vintage - and he drills a hole in your face with his loving gaze while singing your virtues. He wants you naked before he is, so after some kissing you’ll be nude on the sheets while he finally takes his clothes off.

Jumin has no idea what sex is ‘supposed’ to look like, which is both good and bad - you can tell him to do anything, and he’s not gonna worry about feeling awkward or stupid. But he also needs to be told to do anything. 

If you want him to go faster, or use more tongue, you have to tell him. He’s not gonna take the initiative. If you want him to switch positions, you need to describe exactly how you want to position yourselves. It’s a mixed blessing.

The first round goes quite a while because Jumin was taking it slow. There’s a second round where he gets more adventurous, and maybe a third round depending on how you feel. 

The next morning, the chef’s been hired to prepare a special breakfast, and you can tell that they know. Jumin doesn’t care. He just smiles all day.

– Saeyoung –

He actually was a virgin, which was kinda a surprise. His agent job never require any sort of sex-related work, thank god, and it’s not like he ever earned the attention of anybody else before this point. 

If an agency job had enough time to have sex while in the field, then that meant the job was going down the dumps fast. And whenever Agent 707 was involved, a job never nosedived that far.

It’s (semi) canon that Saeyoung asked to be intimate during the after-ending, while on the search for his brother. It was the night before all your plans would come to fruition, and he didn’t know he would come back alive. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed.”

But it’s ALSO canon that in Saeyoung’s ‘dark chocolate’ Valentine’s Day ending, he asks to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. Which implies that the two of you haven’t had sex yet. 

So what’s the dealio? Basically, Saeyoung wanted to have sex with you that night in the cabin, and after some kissing, you realized that you (1) didn’t have protection, (2) neither of you have been tested recently, and (3) your current emotional states weren’t ideal for sex, especially since Saeyoung was a virgin. He left a lot of hickies on your neck instead, and the two of you held each other close the whole night. 

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, it had been two months since Saeran was rescued and Saeyoung was feeling a lot happier. You made it to the end of the scavenger hunt to find an amorous redhead that was ~prepared~ this time. An entire shopping bag full of prophylactics, lube, band-aids, water bottles, and everything. 

He managed to fake a confident persona up until he undressed you fully, then he found himself blushing like crazy when you undressed him in turn. Damn, he really was hiding muscles underneath that hoodie. His arms were woven cable, and underneath his pudge you could feel shapely abs. 

He asked to be on top, you complied, rolling over and allowing him to explore your body with his hands and mouth. It took three tries to enter you, because without his glasses, you were a bit of a blurry blob. But once he was in, he went at it. Maybe even a bit too enthusiastic for the first few thrusts, he was just running on some animalistic instinct he didn’t know he had. 

Two minutes later, he was blindsided by a surprise orgasm. Embarrassed, he rolled off of you and buried his face into the sheets. You had to stroke his hair soothingly for ten minutes before he would look you in the face. 

Saeyoung’s first evening of sex had one ‘disastrous’ first try, then a much better second run, and then after dinner there was a third ... and also .5 a prance while in the shower.  

– Saeran –

You’re his first sexual partner, but more than that, today also marks a big step in his self-confidence. He’s cashing in his newfound tolerance for his body and constitution. Saeran spent most of his life hating his ‘weak’ health and thinking anybody’d be repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have sex if he didn’t believe differently. 

So it’s probably several months - perhaps years - into your relationship that he even brings up having sex. Even though he may be ready, he’s still nervous and shy and unsure about how to proceed. 

Before the big night, he spends several minutes in front of the mirror, looking at his body. He’s gained weight and a new color to his skin thanks to his healthier lifestyle, and there’s this confidence to his posture that wasn’t there before. A sparkle in his eye. It’s incredible how far he’s come from hating every inch of himself. He smiles.

He prepares one of his Patented Saeran’s Romantic Dinners, complete with candlelight and ambient music. The two of you have done this several times before, but this time there’s an electricity in the air ‘cause of what’s to come. You notice that the food has no garlic, or other strong smells. Saeran’s more cunning than he looks. 

As dessert finishes up, he gets more quiet, until the conversation dies down and there’s nothing for it; he takes a deep breath and says, “....Sh-shall we go to bed?” Like this hasn’t been planned weeks in advance. The two of you walk hand-in-hand to the bedroom, where there’s even more candles and another stereo playing soft music, and you picture Saeran putting together a ‘having sex for the first time’ playlist.

You begin by kissing Saeran lying beneath you, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder and asks to switch positions, because he doesn’t like the feeling of you hovering over him. It’s another mark of his progress that he asks for adjustments. 

Things progress slowly. Saeran feels out what makes him feel anxious, and what makes him feel good. The two of you end up side-by-side as he takes you, facing each other with your legs wrapped around his waist. Very intimate. Very sweet. He loves threading his fingers through your hair, and he mewls every time you fondle his ears. 

His health is still shaky, so he only has the stamina for one round before he needs to rest. He all but demands you inch as close as possible so he falls asleep holding you tight. When he wakes up the next morning, he’s got a 1000-watt smile. 

– Jihyun –

Out of the entire wacky cast of Mystic Messenger boys, Jihyun’s the only actual experienced one. You don’t have to tell him that a single pack of five condoms is waaayy too little, you don’t have to explain what dental dams are, or worry about him using oil-based lube on accident, and he’s the only one who actually showers thoroughly beforehand. 

It begins with your typical night of cuddling-and-kissing, then Jihyun says he’s clean and he’s got a bedside cabinet full of supplies. He gently holds your hand and asks, ‘”if you’d like …? We could … if you’re comfortable. If you’d have me.” He’s blushing, but he’s confident. 

Of course, even if you’re experienced, the first time with anybody is gonna be awkward. And Jihyun’s a surprisingly big guy to maneuver. There’s a lot of accidental elbowing, bonking of the heads, kneeling on sensitive bits, and little scrapes. His long limbs seemingly end up everywhere on the bed, and it’s like you’re playing twister. 

Mistakes just make him laugh. You trip over his outstretched forearm and face plant into his shoulder, and he just chuckles and pulls you into another kiss. 

He’s just so soft and loving. ‘Cause to Jihyun, it’s about ~making love~. He wants to go slow, looking into your eyes, cradling your head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

Tries to get you off first, either through oral or otherwise. He’s not a big fan of any positions that turn you away from him, it’s just too rough and aggressive. He’d rather carry you on his shoulders before he prefers doggy style. 

Checks in with you constantly, asks what you like and where you like to be touched. Tries to get you to literally guide his hands. In turn, he asks you to please, touch his legs, his thighs ... yes, kiss me there - 

For your first time, he’d rather have a one-two long sessions than multiple quick ones. He believes sex is one of the most intimate methods of non-verbal communication, and the longer you go in one sitting, the more is passed between the two of you. 

He’s never used toys in his life. If you decide to pull one out for your first time, he’s gonna blush like crazy and actually decline. He wants the first night to be 'organic’. And he’s so driven towards that romantic face-to-face lovemaking, he won’t go too hard or fast, even if you’re begging him. 

After the sex, he wraps you up in a cozy blanket before fetching some hot tea and fresh fruit. Then there’s several minutes spent reviewing how things went, what things worked well, or how they can improved. He catalogues it all for later. 

He rarely wants to fall asleep right after sex, so you might pass out peacefully, but he’s gonna stay awake, just gazing at you for a while. 

[samwisethewitch]

Communicating with Spirits

On this blog, we’ve talked about why witches might want to work with spirits, types of spirits they might work with, and the proper etiquette for establishing a relationship with a spirit. What we haven’t yet talked about is one of the most important, but sometimes most frustrating, elements of spirit work: communication.

There are several methods you can use to communicate with spirits, depending on your skills, preferences, and comfort level.

Signs and Synchronicity

The most organic way to receive messages from spirits is to wait for physical signs in your environment.

The concept of synchronicity was first introduced by Carl Jung. A synchronicity is a “meaningful coincidence” — a seemingly random event that feels meaningful to the individual. For example: crows have a lot of spiritual significance to me, and whenever I see or hear one it has a very specific meaning for me.

Another way a spirit might send you a sign is by surrounding you with physical reminders of them. I’ve most often experienced this with deities. If a new deity is reaching out to me, I’ll see images of them in places I wouldn’t expect to and may hear their name mentioned over and over again around me.

In her book The Angel Code, Chantel Lysette encourages readers to ask for physical signs when they connect with spirits, as a way to confirm that this is a genuine spiritual experience. This is something that has really stuck with me, and has become common practice in my spirit work. It can be very powerful to see signs in your mundane life that validate your spiritual experiences.

Divination

One easy way to communicate with spirits is to use your favorite divination method. (I’ve already done a whole post on divination, so I’m not going to spend much time on it here.) When using divination to communicate with a spirit, address your questions to them by name. From there, proceed as you normally would.

One thing to keep in mind when using divination to communicate with spirits is that the communication will be limited by the divination method you use. If you’re using a pendulum, you can only ask yes or no questions. If you’re using a tarot or oracle deck, the spirit will be limited to the cards in that deck when they’re trying to answer. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it is something to keep in mind.

Automatic Writing or Channeled Writing

This is a little bit different than other divination methods, because in this case you’re actually connecting directly with the spirit in order to write down messages from them. Automatic writing is the act of allowing your hand to write out a message without focusing on the words — the idea is that your hand will be guided by the spirits in order to write down their message for you. Some people believe that you should use your non-dominant hand for automatic writing, as this is your “receptive” hand. Channeled writing is the act of receiving a message through your psychic senses, which you then write down. Automatic writing is a type of channeling, but not all channeling is automatic writing.

I personally prefer channeled writing, simply because I find it more comfortable. Some witches prefer automatic writing because it bypasses your conscious mind, thus making it less likely that you’ll unknowingly “edit” the message. However, automatic writing can be a little bit harder to learn, so I’m going to focus on channeling here.

To channel a message from a spirit, you will need something to write with — a notebook and pen/pencil works, but so does a laptop with a word processor or even the notebook app on a smart phone. You will also need to enter a light trance state (this is the same state of consciousness experienced in meditation), so you might choose to use trance triggers like incense, shamanic drumming, or binaural beats. Begin by creating a protective space around yourself. (This is just to make sure only one spirit comes through at a time.) Invite the spirit you want to receive a message from into your space. Enter a trance and open yourself up to whatever it is they have to say. Don’t think about the words that come to you — simply write them down. You can analyze the message later, after your trance has ended.

Meditation

If you have a specific question you need an answer to, you can receive an answer to that question in a meditation. Likewise, if you want to connect with a certain spirit, you can do so through meditation.

This is fairly straightforward. Prepare for meditation in the way you normally do — light incense or candles and play music if you’d like, and make sure you have a comfortable place to sit or lay down. Before you begin to meditate, speak your intention out loud. This could be as simple as saying, “My intention for this meditation is to connect with [insert spirit’s name],” or “My intention for this meditation is to receive an answer from [insert spirit’s name] about [insert topic here],” or it could be an elaborate prayer.

From there, meditate as you normally would. Focus on the spirit you’re trying to connect with or, if you have a specific question, focus on that question. Whenever I do this, I often receive an answer in a sudden information download — suddenly the answer to my question is clear and obvious.

Pathworking

A pathworking is a specific type of meditation where you go on a psychic journey, usually with a specific goal in mind. I like to think of pathworking as the halfway point between meditation and astral travel. With pathworking, you are still anchored to your physical body, but your consciousness is able to make a journey into the astral world.

There are two important elements to a pathworking: a clear entrance/exit point and a way to retrace your steps. Pathworking journeys are typically cyclical — there is both a journey out and a return where you go back the way you came. This makes it easier to fully return your consciousness to your body, and failing to do so can cause you to feel disoriented upon the return.

A very common entrance/exit point is a door or gate which you use to enter and exit the astral realm. Sometimes it’s more of a home base — for example, my entry point is a rocky beach. I’ve also heard of people using a tree, or even The World Tree, as their entry point. Whatever imagery you choose, make sure you’re able to find your way back to it. If you’re worried about getting lost, author Thea Sabin recommends using “the Theseus trick.” Like in the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, you can tie a golden thread or rope to your entry point and the other end to your astral body. If you get lost, you can follow the thread back.

If you want to try pathworking, make a rough “road map” of your journey beforehand. This doesn’t have to be super specific, but it should contain the following: a goal for the pathworking (such as to connect with a certain spirit), an entry/exit point, and a general idea for the route you’re going to take.

Astral Travel/Spirit Flight

Perhaps the most direct route, astral travel (also called “spirit flight,” “soul flight,” or “hedge riding”) involves sending your spirit or consciousness into the astral realm/spirit world. Astral travel is not a beginner technique. This method should only be used by witches who have experience with meditation, pathworking, and other altered states of consciousness. The major advantage of astral travel is that you’re visiting the spirits on their own turf, which means you can communicate with them much more clearly and directly.

I’ll talk about both pathworking and astral travel at length in my next post. In the meantime, know that it is an option but that I only recommend it for intermediate to experienced witches, and even then only after some serious research into how to do it safely.

Some Basic Precautions

No matter which method you use, here are some basic rules to keep you safe and comfortable during your communication.

Cleanse before you begin. The best way to make sure you’re talking to the spirit you want is to clear out any other nasties before you begin. There are lots of ways to cleanse your space, from incense to sound baths to sweeping with a ritual broom. Use your favorite method to energetically tidy up before you try to contact anybody.

Use protection. A few safety precautions never hurt anyone, and they’re a good idea if you’re going to attempt one of the more involved methods of communication, like channeled writing or astral travel. The salt circle is an oldie but a goodie — once you’ve set it up, only spirits you invite can enter the circle. (But please don’t sprinkle salt on the ground outdoors — this hurts plant life! Use another protective substance, like rosemary, to form the circle instead.)

Know who you’re talking to. It may not be in your best interest to chat it up with whoever presents themselves. Not every spirit has good intentions. I speak from experience when I say that opening the lines of communication to whoever is around is not the best idea. Be clear and specific with which spirits you invite into your space, and don’t open the door to spirits who make you uncomfortable. This is part of the reason that having an established relationship with spirits that you know and trust is important.

Don’t take things at face value. Something that doesn’t get brought up enough in the New Age community is the fact that spirits can and do lie. They can also be wrong, and may give you false information in good faith. Just because a spirit tells you something doesn’t make it true. Always do your own fact-checking outside of spirit work.

Don’t be the idiot in a horror movie. Use common sense when working with spirits. Use safety precautions (see previous notes about cleansing and protection). Don’t intentionally contact negative entities — don’t be that guy who buys a Ouija board so he can talk to Jack the Ripper’s ghost. If a spirit gives you bad vibes, tell them politely but firmly to leave. When in doubt ask yourself, “Would a character in a horror movie do this?” If the answer is yes, don’t do it. You’re smarter than that.

Resources:

The Angel Code by Chantel Lysette

Wicca for Beginners by Thea Sabin

Southern Cunning: Folkloric Witchcraft in the American South by Aaron Oberon

New World Witchery podcast (several episodes, including “Episode 164 — Irish Folklore and Magic,” “Episode 161 — Practicing Safe Hex,” and “Episode 152 — Honoring Ancestors”)

“My Goddesses: How and Why I Work with Mary and Hel” by Kelly-Ann Maddox

[dabi-drift]

Yaoyorozu, Hawks, Bakugou, Amajiki, Dabi, Mirko & Geten with a Genderfluid S/O:

If you want any characters adding here or to anything else I write, just drop me a comment or an ask!

Momo Yaoyorozu:

☿ It was hard enough for you to acknowledge your own gender- fully understanding it was a different topic - so coming out to Momo was going to be tough.

☿ Really tough.

☿ She was a lovely girl and a wonderful girlfriend.

☿ But could you really expect her to be supportive of something so complex?

☿ Your gender fluctuated a lot - sometimes you'd feel distinctly outside the binary, and sometimes you'd feel more masculine, or more feminine.

☿ You hadn't noticed this until recently; you rarely gave gender a second thought.

☿ Looking at yourself in the mirror and questioning everything that felt a little off, you'd figured that maybe you just wanted to feel special, a little different.

☿ So you researched. A lot.

☿ You had a system that no-one understood because you were still deep in the closet: a different coloured strand/extension in your hair (on one side only) that stood out but was never questioned.

☿ Red = Feminine, Purple = Non-Binary, Blue = Masculine, Green = Third Gender/Multigender.

☿ Coming out was a decision you spent countless nights debating.

☿ No-one 'deserved' to know, it was really nobody's business…but being gendered correctly 100% of the time did sound nice.

☿ Deep breaths, and positive thoughts.

☿ "I identify as…no, I am genderfluid. You, eh…you should probably know that."

☿ This sweet, precious thing was confused at first.

☿ But you explained it:

☿ "Sometimes I'll feel more masculine, more like a boy, sometimes feminine, neither or both/all genders? I'm still wrapping my head around it too, but eh…it can change a lot. Sometimes a few times a day. Um…sometimes one gender will stick for a while. That's why figuring it out can be…confusing. But it's also enlightening, uh…kinda nice, warm, y'know?"

☿ Instantly says she understands and supports you.

☿ Expect a flurry of hugs and kisses.

☿ Acts like a very proud girlfriend.

☿ Pays extra attention to your hair - never wants to get anything wrong.

☿ If she does, she'll apologise immediately and reprimand herself.

☿ Go easy on her, she'll be an utter mess.

☿ Overall, her love for you is unconditional, and she makes sure that you know she's sorry.

"You shouldn't ever have to be scared to explain who you are."

Keigo Takami/Hawks:

☿ Keigo knew something was amiss.

☿ You'd been dating for two years, and although he never pried, he couldn’t help noticing the way you'd suddenly become uncomfortable when someone addressed you, or when you stayed in one set of clothes for too long.

☿ It wasn’t always the same, and he just figured it was anxiety and general insecurities coming to the surface.

☿ So he held you closer, wrapped you in his wings and fussed over you for hours (or however long his job would allow).

☿ He didn’t have a lot of time to consult the internet.

☿ He also didn’t want to pressure you into revealing anything.

☿ But now, the topic was unavoidable.

☿ You'd broken down, crying and mumbling to yourself when you thought he couldn’t hear you.

☿ He finds you kneeling in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

☿ Rushes to your side in an instant.

☿ "What did the mirror do to you, dove?"

☿ Very, very worried, feathers shaking around you.

☿ Defensive birb, ready to protect you from that loathsome mirror.

☿ "I-I look so…so girly today! It's awful! My chest, and…and…I don’t have a binder, and I…"

☿ Doesn't understand, but is determined not to worsen your mood.

☿ "Hey, look at me. What are binders, and where would we get one?"

☿ He places both hands on your cheeks, and you lean into him.

☿ "They're…they flatten your chest, um…sports bras and binders…I-I've never bought one, so I don’t know…"

☿ He nods. "Do you wanna come with me to look for one?"

☿ You're perplexed - shouldn’t he be weirded out by this?

☿ He laughs, and somehow, it warms your heart. "I just want you to be happy. I'd do anything to make that happen, angel. You might need to explain all this to me, though. I'm a newbie, after all."

☿ He takes physical notes - nothing will catch this man out.

☿ If someone misgenders you, he'll correct them immediately.

☿ If someone acts ignorant or spiteful, he'll 'politely' tell them how to adjust their attitude, and how to address people outside the gender binary.

☿ I.e, respect them even if you don't have a complete grasp on their identity, and never, ever misgender or marginalise them.

"You are yourself, not how others perceive you."

Katsuki Bakugou:

☿ You decided to use pronoun badges. There were some awesome-looking designs out there, and you'd been feeling a little more confident lately. It couldn’t hurt to clue your classmates in, right? Plus, you supposed Katsuki ought to know…he was your boyfriend, after all. He'd definitely be pissed if he discovered this a few years down the line, rage about you not placing enough trust in him, and it'd be a huge mess…

☿ You'd never interrogated him on LGBTQ+ issues, so you weren't sure how he'd take your news; he wasn’t always the most accepting (Midoriya & the quirkless community being obvious testaments to that).

☿ Needless to say, instead of being confused, he was frustrated. Why was he with someone who didn’t even know their correct pronouns? He pointed it out, very matter-of-fact.

☿ When your dazzling smile suddenly dropped, he became concerned. Was he the idiot after all? Why did he upset you? What in the Nine Circles of Hell possessed him to do that?? He didn’t even say anything bad! All he mentioned was…

☿ Oh. Shit.

☿ This boy isn't accustomed to apologising, so don’t expect it to flow naturally. He’ll try, because he loves you, but he won't keep eye contact for very long and he'll recant every few seconds.

☿ This perceived insincerity only masks his guilt, though. He’ll beat himself up for years, unless you stop him. This boy has no chill. He's always the first to go off on people when they disrespect or degrade you, so he's gotta make amends in some way, right?

☿️ Honestly, if there are any pronoun badges with really cool or pretty designs, he'll buy them for you. He'll also get for himself, to prove his acceptance and solidarity. He won't ever allow you to feel alone again. He's more than okay with your identity - it changes absolutely nothing about you. If anything, it gives you a sense of completion. He's here for that, 100%.

☿️ You better believe he'll fight for your rights.

☿️ If there's any hate/intolerance directed at you, he'll explode. Quite literally.

☿️ You'll be tasked with ensuring no-one dies. Unless you want them to, of course.

☿️ They'll deserve it.

☿️ Katsuki is very perceptive, so when he gets to grips with it, he'll most likely notice every indication (however subtle) of a gender change. He'll carry spare pronoun badges around, just in case you lose yours.

☿️ Secretly, he's swimming in pride.

☿️ He's kinda like 'Yeah, that's my awesome partner! Look how cool they are, flaunting their pronouns like that, all confident and happy!'

☿️ This boy adores the ever-loving shit out of you. He hates reflecting on the day you came out, because he handled it so poorly at first. Thankfully now though, you're more secure.

"Gender doesn't matter. I'm gonna be a hero, not a hater."

Tamaki Amajiki:

☿️ (Y/n) wasn’t a dead name, but sometimes the very mention of it made your skin crawl.

☿️ It was a gift from your parents, so you wanted to keep it.

☿️ But it was a very gendered name - you couldn’t escape that.

☿️ So you decided on a few more - ones both your mind and heart adored.

☿️ The names corresponded to different gender identities, and although you weren't out just yet (though you planned to be shortly), they gave you the fluffiest feeling.

☿️ Because you hadn't come out, you didn’t bother making it easy for people - no different coloured bracelets, rings or anything to highlight your gender at the time.

☿️ In your heart, you knew who you were.

☿️ Still…everything seemed tied to the binary - official documents, school, the chatter of other students…you'd seen and heard it all.

☿️ These people didn’t accept non-conformists.

☿️ So why should Tamaki?

☿️ Sure, he was kind-hearted, heroic…amazing, but what would he do? What would he say, when you finally came out? You couldn’t remain in the closet forever.

☿️ No way that was happening! You were human too, your feelings mattered! Surely you were allowed to voice your truth…

☿️ Tamaki loved you.

☿️ He'd be accepting…right? Memorising some more names and pronouns shouldn’t be so tricky.

☿️ To minimise discomfort for both of you, you chose to explain things in his room.

☿️ He got really nervous at first - he thought you wanted to break up.

☿️ Boy was sweating profusely, coming up with all sorts of counter-arguments in his head. He really, really loved you.

☿️ "(Y-Y/n)-"

☿️ "Um, could you maybe call me (O/n) today? It's an…off-spectrum day."

☿️ Cue more confusion than Momo.

☿️ He'll ask about it in a really gentle voice - being anxious himself, he can easily pick up on other people's signs.

☿️ "Basically…my gender's fluid, so…you know how 'sex' is biological and 'gender' is a sense of identity? Well, sometimes I align with my birth sex, sometimes I don't. Today is…one of those days."

☿️ He'll hold your hand while he listens, squeezing it periodically to reassure you.

☿️ Now it's your turn to question the strength of your relationship.

☿️ This boy's love is deep, though; he cares way too much to let anything come between you.

☿️ Plus, nothing about you has actually changed.

☿️ You've just come into yourself, gained more comfort in who you are.

☿️ Tells you how proud he is.

☿️ Asks you to let him know when you sense your gender change, so he never calls you by the wrong name or pronouns.

☿️ It's They/Them today, but who knows about tomorrow? Or even an hour from now?

☿️ Finds gender-neutral compliments and nicknames, and does a ton of research.

☿️ Has an entire script in his head - if you want to come out but can't speak for yourself, Tamaki will push aside his anxiety and recite the words he's practiced a million times.

"You've finally found yourself - only change if it feels right."

Touya Todoroki/Dabi:

☿️ Your identity was really important and dear to your heart.

☿️ But that didn’t stop those you cared for tearing you apart whenever you tried to speak up.

☿️ Your family, your friends…you loved them, but they just couldn’t accept you.

☿️ So you killed them.

☿️ You went on the run, evading police and heroes alike for years.

☿️ And then, you found the League of Villains - a strange dynamic, kind of like family but much more welcoming.

☿️ Yet, your identity stayed hidden. You didn’t have the strength to harm all these people, if they rejected you.

☿️ Besides, there was more solidarity here than there ever had been with your blood relatives.

☿️ Dabi was your companion, though whether that meant closest friend or love interest, you didn’t know.

☿️ He was observant, transforming his thoughts into words regardless of how that affected people.

☿️ He pointed things out immediately.

☿️ "New bracelet?"

☿️ You paused, half-shocked, half-afraid.

☿️ You knew that he'd see through any lie you posed.

☿️ The truth would be the only thing to save you from his flames.

☿️ "That means something, doesn't it, (Y/n)?"

☿️ Step 1: put the drink down so you don't shatter it in anger.

☿️ "Yeah, um…this colour means 'masculine'. I'm a guy…now."

☿️ His face betrayed nothing.

☿️ "Like a reverse Magne?"

☿️ You wondered if that was a genuine question or an attempt at humour.

☿️ Todorokis don't understand jokes.

☿️ "No…she's a transgender woman, I'm genderfluid. I'm not confined to a single gender. It, uh…it changes."

☿️ His nod didn’t instil you with confidence.

☿️ "You out to the others yet?"

☿️ "Didn't think they'd accept me."

☿️ He made a 'Really? You're the least weird of the bunch' face.

☿️ "Ah, I'll just burn 'em if they don't."

☿️ You were too stunned to employ a comeback.

☿️ He contemplated for a while.

☿️ "So, you got any other names?"

☿️ Helps you plan how to come out to the rest of the League.

☿️ Will legitimately burn the haters.

"Found families are more accepting than the real thing."

Rumi Usagiyama/Mirko:

☿️ You bought three mugs - 'It's a Girl', 'It's a Boy' and 'It's a Mess'.

☿️ The excitement had been bubbling away inside you for weeks.

☿️ Rumi still didn’t know that you were genderfluid, but she was about to learn.

☿️ There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she'd accept you.

☿️ You hadn't told her yet because it was a big thing - lots to take in, and you needed to be completely sure of it, and of your relationship.

☿️ You weren't gonna tell just anyone.

☿️ Dating Rumi was awesome, and this was just the next stage.

☿️ It didn’t go according to plan.

☿️ Not at first.

☿️ "You're pregnant?!" Was her very concerned response.

☿️ She kept muttering about how she needed some space to think things over.

☿️ Until you dragged her back, exasperated but determined to explain yourself.

☿️ "It's in reference to myself. I wanted to let you know, in a funny way, that I'm genderfluid. There's a Girl and a Boy one, and the other is for Non-Binary."

☿️ She made a noise like she understood, but you saw the confusion.

☿️ "Today's an Enby day, but you might have a girlfriend tomorrow. Or a boyfriend. Who knows?"

☿️ In an instant, the biggest smile took control of her face, and she brought you into a crushing hug.

☿️ "So I could have a girlfriend, a boyfriend and a murder partner??"

☿️ "Eh…if you can do the jail-time, count me in."

☿️ This one won't necessarily search for information herself, but she will consult you whenever she's having a difficult time processing something.

☿️ You're like,, the expert in all things LGBTQ+, and she loves listening to you talk so passionately.

☿️ She's really glad you told her - that you trusted her with something so important.

☿️ She feels loved, and makes sure you do too.

☿️ Asks if you ever thought she'd reject you.

☿️ "Nah. We'll go strong forever, Rumi."

☿️ She's overjoyed, honestly.

"You're so brave for coming out, and if someone doesn’t like it, I'll kick their butt."

Geten/Iceman:

☿️ Geten didn’t have the faintest clue about gender identities. He accepted male and female, but without a proper education or motivation to learn anything beside his quirk, you didn’t expect him to understand. You would've held it in, if you were strong enough to deal with the constant misgendering.

☿️ If you use Neopronouns, you're especially worried. They aren't as widely welcomed as the general She/He/They. And Geten being the angry, feral gremlin he is, his temper was a major concern.

☿️ You couldn’t change for him, so if he decided to lash out or disapprove, you'd be crushed. You'd obviously have to walk out of the relationship, if he didn’t do so himself. As deeply as your love ran, you simply couldn’t put yourself through such anguish. You weren't of the soundest mind, so to be rejected by Geten…

☿️ He isn't gonna understand unless you sit him down, crack open the slideshow presentation and maybe start crying? He'll feel guilty, but he doesn't ever wanna see you in distress. He said as much, in the beginning of your relationship.

☿️ So cry. Cry your little heart out, and he'll do everything within his power to comfort you. He's not the most receptive to other people's emotions, but with you, it's different. He's always by your side, always watching over you. His hugs are a little stiff, but wrap your arms around him tightly, and he'll protect you with his life.

☿️ "So…genderfluid?"

☿️ His tone is gentle, like he's afraid to cause any more tears.

☿️ "Yeah, um…you identify with your birth sex, right? Well, I don't…not all the time. And if you could…could use those pronouns? That would mean…a lot. To me. It'd mean everything, actually…"

☿️ He's quiet for a while, still trying to make space in his brain for all this new information. It isn't something he needs to 'come around to', though. He'll be completely painful and respectful. He's bound to slip up a few times, but he'll always correct himself.

☿️ Hates seeing you cringe whenever he makes a mistake. Always vows never to let it happen again.

☿️ You're okay though - you know it's gonna take time.

☿️ Angry boi never uses your gender identity as an insult, and openly condemns (threatens) anyone who does. He'll want to prove himself - prove he's gonna love you regardless of gender, regardless of everything!

☿️ Honestly doesn't know why you were so nervous to explain this. When he said his love was unconditional, he wasn’t lying.

“There’s no way I couldn’t accept who you are.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

hello anon!! okay, this is going to be a very long post, so buckle up. standard caveat: since i don’t know the specifics of your topic or discipline or situation, some of this will hopefully be relevant and some of it might not, so just grab what works for you and leave the rest! and if you have more specific questions that this general overview doesn’t touch on, feel free to send those in.

it sounds like you have a few different questions here:

How do I find and articulate my research question?

How do I effectively take notes on my background reading in the early stages, when I’m not sure yet what my argument is going to be?

How do I organize a long research project/paper? How do I conceptualize something that has so many moving parts & happens to be a genre (a thesis) that I’ve never written before?

How do I write something that long? 

also I am not sure if by “diss” you mean a senior thesis, master’s thesis, or a doctoral dissertation, as I know US and non-US universities use different terminology! so I will kinda just respond to this as A Very Lengthy Research Paper.

my response here will focus mostly on that first question (how to find/articulate a research question), with some thoughts at the end about notetaking in the early stages of a big research project. I’m going to lay out a method I just used with my own students to help them articulate questions & generate possible lines of inquiry to follow. I have been calling it the ‘research tier’ activity/system but it’s a pretty basic way of mapping out possible directions for a project. I use some version of this for every big project I undertake - whether it’s academic work, planning a course syllabus, or writing fic.

I want to emphasize, before I start, that the “tier” map you construct is a LIVING document, not a set-in-stone plan that has to be finished before you begin. the goal is to get past the anxiety of the blank page by generating tons and tons of ideas and questions related to your central topic -- so that if you hit a dead end, you can trace your way back and follow a different line of inquiry. when i am working on a research project, i am continually updating this planning document (i’ll say more about that at the end, once you have a sense of what the tiers look like).

Those questions are geared towards my students, who are working more in social science-y disciplines and/or on projects that have clear connections to specific communities. If you are writing a more traditional humanities discipline, here are some other examples:

I’m interested in...

the romance novel as a genre

Virginia Woolf’s writings on nature/the environment

the cultural reception and impact of the TV show Will & Grace

what queer social life looked like in 1920s New York

play and playfulness in the college classroom (my current research project, which I’ll use as an example)

once you have some idea of your focus, you can begin generating questions related to that focus. “Tier 2″ begins to get slightly more specific, though you are still very much in “big picture” mode. here’s some sentence stems I give my students to help them generate tier 2 questions:

my students are doing research projects that are ideally supposed to develop out of their preexisting community involvements or commitments, so i give them this additional advice:

[note: if your thesis topic is in a social science-y discipline (or a humanities discipline that leans closer to the social sciences), you can probably use some of those ideas or prompts. if your thesis topic is more of a purely academic humanities-type topic (for instance, a literary studies thesis about a specific novel), not all of those will apply perfectly, but some will hopefully be useful still!]

here’s an example, again using my playfulness project. I’ll list the question and then below it, in italics, I’ll explain what ‘stirred up’ that question for me.

T2: What are some core preoccupations or big-picture questions I want to explore? What are some things I’ve noticed that I want to understand?

Core Question 1: Why are college classrooms so serious? Why is there so little playfulness in most college teaching? Why so little laughter, movement, fun?

Observing my friend’s kindergarten classes made me realize how much elementary educators rely on bright colors, movement, singing, playing imaginative games together, etc. to engage young learners’ imaginations, minds, and bodies. Why do we value that so much in elementary education, but stop considering it important in college classes? Do learners “age out” of a need for highly interactive, engaging learning? I suspect no... so that’s a hunch I can begin to follow. 

Observing other college courses (and drawing on my own experience as an undergrad and grad student) made me realize how much educators rely on the same standard methods of teaching (lecturing with a discussion section; a version of Socratic seminar discussion that is primarily led by the professor). To me, these methods are antithetical to playfulness and tend to quash people’s ability or desire to playfully experiment, try things out, risk failure, etc. I wonder if the actual methods we use to teach content or to structure our classes are producing ‘serious’ classes, whether or not we personally as instructors want that to happen. That’s another hunch I could follow...

I’m thinking of a possible connection here to my past research on the origins of English literature as a discipline (in 1920s-30s England). One of the things that scholars often emphasize is how hard faculty had to work to transform English into a serious, rigorous, ‘legitimate’ discipline, akin to the hard sciences. That’s something that I think we still see today in the way people anxiously defend the value of a humanities education. I’m curious about whether the need to justify our existence as a discipline/field of study influences our methods of teaching college students. Do we banish playfulness from the classroom because it threatens that image of the humanities as a serious, rigorous discipline? That’s yet another hunch I could follow... 

Core Question 2: I have a hunch that people learn better in playful environments. Is that true -- and if so, why? What is it about playfulness that enhances learning?

I’m a lifelong fangirl, and fandoms are creative environments where people are continually engaged in acts of imaginative play. I’ve observed and have experienced firsthand how these playful environments seem to encourage people to try new things, take creative risks, learn new skills even if they’re afraid they’ll be ‘bad’ at them, and commit huge amounts of time, energy, and passion to long-term creative projects that don’t make any money or ‘earn’ them a grade. I’m curious about how we might adapt the playful, passionate energy of fan spaces to college teaching.

In my own classrooms, I’ve noticed that students get so much more into the activity (and seem to internalize the content more deeply) when I frame it as an imaginative exercise, a roleplaying activity, or a game of some kind. Teaching the same content in a way that encourages playfulness seems to produce deeper engagement (and deeper learning?) than using the traditional methods of ‘serious’ teaching.

Core Question 3: Playfulness and shared laughter/fun seem to build social bonds (again, drawing on my experiences in fandom). Could shared imaginative play help students develop better social skills? Could it help build a sense of community in the classroom and strengthen students’ sense of belonging? This question feels especially urgent to me given the epidemic of self-reported loneliness, anxiety, and depression on college campuses. 

*

You can have lots more than 3 core questions/preoccupations! In fact, the more ideas you can generate at this stage the better. The idea isn’t to hone in on your research question (yet) but to generate as many possible paths you could take, so that you can begin evaluating which interest you most, or which seem like the most fruitful questions to explore/answer. Doing the idea-generating for Tier 2 should already begin to set you up for Tier 3 -- which involves articulating specific sub-questions you’ll need to answer to better understand or answer those core questions/preoccupations.

and then we’ll go ahead and fold in T4, as I tend to move back and forth between T3/T4 as I brainstorm.

I’ll just take one of my Tier 2 questions as an example, but again, you can/should do this for all of yours (or at least the ones that interest you most).

Core question: Playfulness and shared laughter/fun seem to build social bonds (again, drawing on my experiences in fandom). Could shared imaginative play help students develop better social skills? etc etc

T3 subquestions (with T4 “directions for inquiry” folded into the first one, so you can see an example):

-- SubQ1 Does play actually strengthen social bonds? If so, how? Are specific kinds of play better for this than others (ie, collaborative or cooperative play compared to competitive play)? With Tier 4 folded in:

Do a library database search to try to figure out where “play” research typically happens -- is it in psychology research? Neuroscience? Early childhood education?

Then begin searching for different keyword strings that might help me gather up initial sources. Some initial ideas: play + social bonding, play + social skills, play + social development, play + cooperation, play + friendship, play + mental health. (Typically finding a couple useful/relevant articles will help you generate better keywords -- as you can begin to see the kinds of terminology that researchers use to describe your topic.)

I could also maybe interview college students themselves, or design a survey - but that would depend on the type of research I want to do. Do I want to conduct my own original research study, or is my focus more on synthesizing existing research from different fields to construct an argument? 

Could I find faculty or researchers who work on these topics, who might be able to direct me to specific resources or help me understand what kind of work has already been done on this topic? Maybe I can’t find someone who specifically researches playfulness, but an educational researcher whose work focuses on social-emotional learning would probably have a pretty good understanding of what features or pedagogical choices help create positive, affirming learning environments.

-- SQ2: Are college students lonely?

Are they reporting (or do they experience) higher rates of mental illness? What are the numbers on this?

What are some of the prevalent theories or hypotheses about why this is? Could social isolation or difficulty forming friendships be a possible contributing factor?

-- SQ3: Why are social bonds good for us - physically, mentally, emotionally?

-- SQ4: Do social bonds enhance learning? If so, how?

What if I looked to other non-academic learning environments (such as fandoms, team sports or group activities, etc where people are learning new skills in highly social settings) to make a case for playfulness in the college classroom? This isn’t direct 1:1 proof that “more playfulness in college classrooms = happier, more socially well-connected students,” but offering detailed descriptions of how those learning environments are structured might spark ideas for my audience (university instructors and administrators) or persuade them that playfulness has an important social-emotional role to play in college learning.  

*

Typically what ends up happening is I produce a huge, messy document (or fill a giant paper or whiteboard if I’m doing it by hand) that has tons and tons of different directions I might follow. usually, the initial process of creating this giant brainstorming document sparks lots of ideas for where to begin researching. then, as i go off and begin reading articles, those articles typically help flesh out my understanding of the core questions or concepts i’m interested in, or my understanding of what kind of research on this topic already exists vs. where the gaps are that my own work might be able to fill. that initial source-gathering phase of research will also usually spark new questions and sub-questions, which get added to my tier map.

having some kind of messy brainstorming map/plan also helps me read in a more focused way. instead of just opening a random article and skimming it without any clear sense of what i’m looking for, i’m now opening articles and reading them with a purpose -- i’m looking for answers to the specific questions i’ve articulated. so i can skim in a more focused way, looking for specific keywords that seem relevant, and i can also take notes in a more focused way, noting down key ideas that

having a question in mind can also help me figure out more quickly if the article is relevant to my research questions or not. for instance, let’s say i open an article about how playing competitive games in high school PE classes improve students’ self-reported moods. if i didn’t know what i was reading for, i might spend a lot of time on this article, trying to figure out if it was relevant to my research (it has the keywords, right? so maybe it’s relevant?). but if i am reading with a specific question in mind (“Do collaborative learning games help strengthen students’ sense of social connection?”) I can tell pretty quickly that this article is not going to be that useful, since it focuses on competitive physical games (probably not something I’ll integrate into an English class). so I can say with some confidence, “I probably don’t need to read this whole thing, but maybe I’ll check out their lit review section or their bibliography to see if the authors cite any other work on play/playfulness that might be more relevant to my specific questions.” 

i think i’ve kinda started to answer your second question about notetaking here, too, so i will also say that in the early stages of a big research project, i am absolutely NOT taking detailed notes on any of the sources i find. my focus is much more on amassing a large pool of highly relevant sources that i know i’m going to want to go back to and read more deeply as my research questions come into sharper focus. this is because deep reading burns through a lot of time and energy, so i want to make sure i’m saving that deep reading energy for sources that are quite likely to be relevant to my project. 

to figure out if a source is relevant, I often skim the abstract and introduction to figure out the core questions the article or chapter is seeking to answer. then I ask myself three questions:

Are the core questions of this article the same as (or very similar to) my core questions or subquestions? If so, mark this citation as HIGHLY relevant - I’m going to want to come back and read this source carefully, to see if it’s already suggested answers to the questions I’m asking. 

Do the core questions of this article seem to resonate with my core questions, even if we’re not asking them in exactly the same way, or the author of this paper is applying them to a different field? If so, mark this citation as LIKELY relevant - it may not be a perfect 1:1 with my own questions, but that can sometimes spark exciting new ideas or ways of reframing my original questions. If not, toss it.

Do the questions this article is asking suggest new questions or lines of inquiry that I am interested in exploring? Sometimes an article will introduce me to a whole new area of research or a new array of questions I hadn’t even originally thought to explore. If that’s the case, I typically pencil those sub-questions into my brainstorming tier document and mark the source as LIKELY or HIGHLY relevant, depending on how excited i am about it. 

OK I WILL CLOSE HERE FOR NOW as I have to get back to work, but I will say that when I taught my students this method, they were very confused by the initial explanation of it, but then when they went back and used the models to work through the tier brainstorming activity for themselves, they seemed to find it really useful. so if you are scratching your head, try doing a quick TIER 1 - TIER 2 - TIER 3 - TIER 4 map for your own research question to see if doing it yourself helps clarify. also: if you can’t get further than tier 2, it’s usually a sign that you need to do some more reading and freewriting about the questions that you’re curious about, or the gaps you’ve noticed in the scholarship, or the threads you’d like to follow. but you can do some of that background reading in a more focused way now, using your initial big questions to help guide your selection of background readings & give you a sense of purpose as you read.

[inkedtae]

golden gills ⇾ jjk. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ goldfish!hybrid jungkook x bratty!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ e2l, smut with a sprinkle of fluff and a waterfall of filth 

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ Reader taunts Jungkook for being the new Teacher’s Assistant for her history class. She simply can’t stand a teacher’s pet. Jungkook can’t help but make her one. 

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ a shit ton of flith, hate-love sex, office sex, super bratty reader, thigh riding, hair pulling, spit play, pube play, panty sniffing, a tad bit of edging, oral (f. receiving), dom!jk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lots of spanking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names, a dash of puns here and there, lowkey crack, probs gonna need some (un)holy water.

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ extremely unedited. please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. currently on a kookie kick so get ready for some filthy (and occasionally fluffy) kookie content. if you have any request, please send them my way (i might consider another member). enjoy!

><> le playlist 

He strut into class, a little notebook clutched in his large hands. You couldn’t help but notice how his veins popped out. Was he flexing or was that just simply always the state of his hands. His sharp nails, tips tinged orange, dug into the leather binding of the notebook while he spoke with your professor. You glared at him from your seat at the front. He must’ve felt the heat of your gaze as he rubbed the nape of his, looking over at you. 

There, right there was the reason why you hate that man so much. That shit-eating smirk tugged on his pink lips, brownish-yellow eyes flickering between you and the professor. An annoyed sigh escaped you. He was too cocky for his own good. He may have radiated golden rays wherever he went. The yellowish-orange tint of his hair layered with strands of pink was undeniably eye-catching. You figured that if he was full fish and not just a hybrid, then that might be the colour of his scales. But, when that golden image was paired with his arrogant personality, you reminded yourself as your eyes bounced up and down his frame, he was insufferable.

Despite the golden hues of his species, Jungkook felt most comfortable in black. It was a trend you noticed immediately on him. His flowy, golden fin would stick out his shirt, lined along his spine, and tiny golden gills would rest in the hollows of his cheeks but he would only wear black. You hated how you knew that he only liked to wear loose fitted clothing because it looked great on him. It was all he wore so how could you not notice it, you tried to reason. That fact didn’t soothe your rage one bit, however, since it meant that you indirectly admitted to yourself that he always looked good. 

That man is dangerous, you thought to yourself before turning back to your notes. You didn’t have much to write just yet, but you weren’t going to waste your last moments before class staring at Jeon Jungkook. You opted for doodling, gently scratching your orange pen within the margins.

“How come whenever I walk in I always catch you staring?” He asked, sitting a couple of seats to your right. 

“Glaring,” you correct, not bothering to look up. 

He chuckles to himself, the breathy sound confusing your heart and stunting your rage for a minute. “You’re giving me your attention either way, hun,” he replied. “And I barely had to do a thing.”

You stopped mid-stroke, looking up at him with that same glare before your eyes scanned across the classroom. You noticed empty seats peppered between others who were lucky enough to enjoy some peace before the lesson began.  “There are other seats,” you muttered, turning back to your notebook. 

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, tossing his notebook down on the table with a light thud. “I like this one,” he sighed as he pulled out a black pen from his pants. “I can see everything from here, and everyone can see me.”

You furrowed your brows at his words. What a cocky little shit; always needing to be the center of attention. “You’re an idiot,” you hissed, making the mistake of looking up at him again. 

He met your annoyed gaze with a playful glint in his eyes. He had his tongue poking at his cheek, and a single brow raised as if asking if you truly meant that, as if warning you to try again. “Am I?” he challenged. “Or are you too busy concerned with me to realize how wrong that statement was?”

Your face scrunched with confusion as you tried your best to decipher his words.Why did he have to be so cryptic? Why couldn’t he just tell you what the hell he meant? Giving up, you were about to tell him how stupid he sounded when the professor began his lecture. 

He welcomed the class, introduced himself and went over the course syllabus before turning to look at Jungkook. “And, if you have any other questions, please feel free to contact me or my TA this semester, Jungkook.” He then gestured for Jungkook to stand. 

Fuck no. 

Your face fell as he rose from his seat. Before he could even catch a glimpse of your pure shock and devastation, you schooled your features and looked back towards your professor. It all began to click now, why he spoke with the professor before class and why he sat at the front. He even tried to warn you, in his own stupid, idiotic, cryptic way. Did you really insult your TA? He was going to be grading your work for the next four months. You wanted to believe Jungkook wasn’t a total asshole but with the way he taunted you with that look in his eyes before the lecture started gave you pause. 

Your face must’ve been revealing bits and pieces of your panic, despite your efforts, because you soon heard little breathy chuckles to your right. “Relax, hun. I won’t let it affect your final grade,” he whispered as the professor dived into his lecture. “This time.”

That little shit. 

You had written your essay two weeks prior to the due date, which is a lot coming from you since you’re more of a pull an all-nighter the night before kind of girl. You had researched thoroughly about the topic provided, giving your own analysis on the wars and political practises of the West. You even quoted Karl Marx a few times, and this little shit only just passed you? You had an average to maintain and you knew your paper was not merely worth a passing grade. You even had your best friend, Namjoon, read it over and approve of the analysis, citations and writing style. 

So the moment his office hours were available you made your way over. They were running during another one of your classes but fuck him if he thought you were going to let this slide. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but if this was all some power play, you were about to show him who the fuck was in charge. 

“Jeon, you motherfucker,” you huffed in a way of greeting as you walked into his office. 

Jungkook peeked up at you from his bowl, noodles hanging out of mouth. His eyes were a bit wider, cheeks puffed all too cutely as they were filled with food. He finished slurping his noodles as you shut the door. Though still completely furious, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop staring at his mouth. Something about those pouty, spice stained lips lit up your core and caused arousal to pool into your panties. 

You let out a shaky breath, seating yourself across his desk as he pushed his meal away, directing his full attention on you. He sat back in his seat, that stupid smirk over taking his features. 

“Yes?” He practically purred his response causing you to shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

You tossed your graded paper on his desk, eyes unforgivingly boring into his. “What the fuck is this?” You asked in a calmer voice, but the anger was still ponet in your tone. 

“You’re crappy paper I had the misfortune of reading,” he answered casually, like you just asked him about his day. 

The original fire in your eyes, you somehow were able to maintain since entering this office, dimmed into disappointment. Was it really that bad? But, you worked on it relentlessly. You had at least hoped it would pique his interest. Even Namjoon told you the approach you took was unique and well-thought out. For Jungkook to say it was a misfortune to read wasn’t just a shot at your grade but a blow to your intelligence, your pride. 

He must’ve noticed your change in demeanor as he sat up and sighed. He picked it up to look over it once again, but you ripped it out of his hand, crumpling it with, what you hated to recognize as, shame. “Don’t do me any favours, Jeon,” you all but warned through gritted teeth. “The grade speaks for itself. I can’t believe I thought someone as stupid as you would be able to understand something as layered and complex as this paper. The only thing crappy about any of this is the fact that I have a useless TA.”

Jungkook watched you with an unwavering gaze. “Watch your tone,” he grumbled, voice carrying more edge than those words ever did. 

You’ll admit, it stunted you for a moment, but the pain still lingered. You released the creased assignment on his desk lazily, treating it like the afterthought he believed it was. “Or what?” You taunted, tilting your head slightly. “You’ll fail me?” Your voice dipped in and out of feigned sadness, sarcasm dripping with every word. “You’ll go tell your precious professor? Hmm, little pet?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, inhaling sharply from his nose before standing up. Even from across the desk, he towered over you. “Behave, (Y/N),” he warned, poking at his cheek with his tongue. 

His words meant nothing. You ignored the inner voice that reminded you that your behaviour was only getting this bad because his words actually meant more than you even wanted to acknowledge. 

“You’re just a useless pet, a stupid little goldfish trying so desperately to look tough in those all black clothes,” you pressed on, gesturing to his shirt that sat atop his chest and biceps all too well. He circled around the desk as you continued, “you can’t even get me to treat you with respect. Better yet, I bet you can’t even get me off. You’re that fucking useless.” 

How or why that sexual sentence slipped in was beyond you. You didn’t really have much time to think about anything, your mouth running on its own and leaving your mind to catch up. All you could see is him, him and those orange hues that lit around his muscular frame like a halo. You noticed him avoiding your gaze and you couldn’t help the teasing giggle that left your lips. 

A brow quirked up as he looked at you through his lashes. You only just realized that they were tipped with bits of gold. “There’s nothing you can do,” you said, standing up for the sole purpose of leaning in and whispering, “little pet.”

Those two words triggered something dark inside him. He groaned out, in frustration or excitement - you weren’t sure, and crashed his lips into yours. You wished you could say you resisted at first, but you were melting into his touch immediately. All logic left you and the only thing you can recall from that moment was another rush of lust and desire soaking your panties. You knew you lost your better judgement when you shamelessly moaned into the kiss at the fact that his lips tasted like freshwater and whatever flavour of spicy noodles he was previously eating.  

A rough hand tangled in your hair, tugging on it to pull you off his lips. You whined at the lost contact, surprising even yourself. You only caught a glimpse of his hooded eyes before he latched his lips onto your neck, setting fire to every inch of skin his mouth graced. Those eyes of his held a degree of rage and lusty fury all while little flicks of orange and gold swam within them. Had they always been like that? You never really got time to think about it before Jungkook bit at your flesh, unforgivingly nibbling and tugging only to slobber sweet kisses to soothe the sting. 

Your hands clutched onto his shirt, desperate to recompose even an ounce of your dignity. As if he knew what you were up to, his chuckled, warm breath fanning your skin, prickling you all over with goosebumps. Your thighs pressed together tightly at the sensation, and you were thankful you opted for a skirt rather than jeans this morning, knowing very well that there would’ve been a wet stain near your crotch. 

Jungkook inhaled deeply, parting from your neck to lick the shell of your ear. “You always smell so fucking sexy when you’re horny for me,” he raved. 

“I’m never horny for you,” your pride answered all too quickly. You wanted to add that he was mediocre at best right now, no matter how big of a lie that was too, but couldn’t find the courage after he bit harshly on your collar bone then lapped his tongue over the sting. 

“Don’t lie, pet,” he warned, smugly throwing your word back at you. 

“I’m not your pe- shit!” You gasped when his lips landed on the shallow hollow of your collar bone. You tugged on his shirt once more, tilting your head back as he began to attack it. His kisses were absolutely sinful and you found yourself wanting them all over you as you rolled your hips into his.

Once he was satisfied with the dark mark he left, he slightly pulled back. He opted for moving you around by the grip he had on your hair. It earned him little blissful whines from you that he couldn’t help but laugh at. He yanked your body closer to his chest, your hands now resting on his shoulders as you somehow positioned your crotch over one of his thighs and quickly, shamelessly moved against it. Your actions surprised you as well; you didn’t realize you were this hot for him.

“What were you saying before, my precious pet?” He teased, hovering his pouty lips over yours. His free hand rested upon your ass, gripping and kneading the flesh like he was coaxing the answer out of you. 

You bit your lip in denial of making a single sound. The notion wasn’t lost on him and he used his grip on your ass to halt your movements on his thigh. While you struggled to defy his silent orders, he held your body flush against his, keeping your clothed pussy trapped over his thigh with a single hand. You could feel his semi-hard against your lower belly as he smirked down at you. Had you not been in his grasp or too stubborn, you would’ve smacked that smirk off… with your lips. 

Jungkook yanked at your hair so that you were looking up at him with lips slightly parted and eyes undoubtedly desperate. That was the thing with your eyes; you could never hide your true feelings from them. 

His hot breath fanned over your chin as he muttered, “What happened to those cute little sounds, pet?” It took the last ounce of self control left in you to not to moan at his words. He continued to stare at you for a moment, admiring how, though you’re trying so hard not to show it, needy you were. 

“Open your mouth, baby,” he cooed. 

His voice was gentle enough for you to immediately comply. You parted your lips, looking up at him innocently. Though you knew what was coming next, your pussy clenching around nothing out of mere excitement, you did not pull away. In fact, you stuck your tongue out as he hovered his lips over yours and spat a stringy dollop of saliva into your mouth. It didn’t taste fishy at all, but simply, what you recognized as, him. You gazed into his eyes with lust-charged hate as you swallowed it without a second though. 

He smiled, satisfied, and released your hair to let his hand slide down to your other asscheeks, moving both hands under your skirt now. A little hiss left him as he felt your wetness reach the back of your panties too. “You really are this horny for me, aren’t you, baby?” He questioned as he guided your clothed pusssy against his thigh once more. 

“N-none of this is for you,” you stuttered. You tried to sound annoyed but the little moan in your tone hinted otherwise. 

He nudged his nose on yours, mannerisms shockingly softer than his grips on your ass. “Want another?” He raised a brow. 

When you remained silent, not wanting to admit that you most definitely wanted another wad of his spit in your mouth, he laughed. The corner of his wondrous eyes crinkled and he threw his head back, laughing at your silence. When his gaze met yours again, he bit his lip to subside the rest of his laughter, taking note of your furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

Jungkook seemed to like the challenges you were offering. He slightly tilted his head, eyes suddenly seeming unreadable. It wasn’t like you were paying much attention to his logic anyway, yours long gone by now. No, you were focused on the pleasure, the built up arousal twisting in your lower belly just desperate to be released. You knew your pussy wasn’t usually that sensitive, sometimes finding that you needed to tug on your skin to really get yourself off. But, holy fuck- 

“Jungkook!” You whined all too loudly as he flexed his thigh beneath you. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, tone reaching dangerously cocky levels. You loved it. 

Meek moans and whines poured out of your lips, like his name was the damn that held them back. Your grip on his shirt was sure to leave creases now, as you looked up at him, holding his gaze while you got yourself. You were passed pride now, ready to admit to yourself that you wanted to stare into those golden-brown eyes because, fuck, the simple sight was enough to make you cum.

Jungkook knew it. He knew you were close and squeezed your ass to let you know that. “Does my pretty pet wanna cum?” He lazily asked. The indifference in his tone was strangely enough to make you a slut for him; as if you weren’t already. 

You couldn’t give him the satisfaction, however. You were far too stubborn for that. Breaking your gaze, you threw your head back and shut your eyes. The pleasure was all you wanted to focus on as you got so fucking clo-

“No!” The cry tore from your throat, breaking as it fell from your lips. He took advantage of the grip he had on your ass once more, trapping your pussy on his flexed, muscular thigh. 

“Open,” he ordered.

You glared at him, sticking your tongue out with a huff. He spat another wad in your mouth, smacking your ass as you swallowed. The force jolted your body closer against his, now completely flush against his chest. Fuck, that chest. So strong and firm. You ran your hands up and down his pecs as he spoke. 

“You close your eyes again, and I’ll have you on your knees,” he threatened. You moaned at his words, earned a quirk of his brow. “Fuck, baby, you’re such a slut for me.” 

“When are you going to tell off that shirt?” You asked, the helplessness in your voice surprising you.

“When you ask nicely,” he teased, bringing his hand back down on your ass.

You leaned back just enough to tug on the hem of the loose shirt. He looked at you expectedly, actually believing you’d ask. A smirk found its way on your lips as your hands snuck beneath the cotton to rub up and down his skin. His breath hitched a bit at the contact, making you silently giggle to yourself. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one coming undone to soft touches. 

He kept your hips locked in place, but began to move his thigh under you. You gasped feeling the pleasure build itself back up in your lower belly. Digging your nails gently into his skin, you scratched at his nipples. It seemed you were both rewarding the other for a tease well done as he returned the blissful gesture by quickening the pace of his thigh. 

“J-Jungkook,” you whined, slowly bringing his shirt up higher and higher. His hands left your ass long enough for you to pull his shirt off and you took it as a sign to also be allowed to move again.

Giddy giggles left you as you got what you wanted and more, and you barely had to play nice at all. He was too consumed with getting you off to care, or so you thought. His hands came down on your ass with a force your pussy couldn’t ignore and you were sent into your first orgasm of the hour. 

Jungkook chuckled to himself, watching your jaw clench as high-pitched squeals escaped you and your pussy released all over his pants. The wet mess emitted filthy, slouchy sounds, further imprinting the fabric and filling the space between you two wonderfully. You held his gaze all the same, riding out your high as your nails dug into his pecs. He hissed at the sensation but did nothing to stop it. 

Your rapid rolls over his thigh stuttered against the friction, the pleasure starting to become too much for you. You halted your movement and quivered the last bits of our orgasm out. He peppered your face with little kisses all throughout, and you let him, whimpering for more. 

Jungkook pulled back at your sounds just to flash you a smug smile. He helped you off him, standing you up again. You bit your lip to keep from whining at the loss of contact. Though you did get your release, you were hoping for more. Your eyes, too obviously, flickered between his abs and the bulge in his pants. 

“If you want more, little pet, you’re going to have to strip for me,” he informed you. Jungkook held your fucked out gaze as he swiped a finger over the drenched spot of his pants to scoop up some of your release. You swallowed thickly at the action, watching as he sucked your cum off his finger. 

“You’re going to have to ask nicely,” you all but whine as his adam’s apple bobbed. 

His once playful teasing eyes seemed to be getting annoyed. The softness within them switched into something a bit darker. He was done with playing, and it only made you want to play with him even more. 

“I’m waitin- ah,” you gasped as he ripped the buttons off your thin, tight sweater off, exposing that yellow bra of yours that cupped your tits all too well. 

Jungkook towered his slender frame over you. “I don’t have to do anything,” he whispered, hovering his lips over yours. “Strip, little pet.”

You pulled your sweater off. A part of you wanted to reach up and just kiss him again. He was so close you could feel his breath against your parted lips. But, you knew better than to fully challenge that dangerous look in his eye. Your skirt was pushed down next, but you kept your panties on, slightly too embarrassed by the fact that they were sticking to your pussy. Reaching back behind you, you fumbled to unclasp your bra. Jungkook remained silent as he reached a single hand back there and undid it easily. 

You thought it must have regained his composure, the thought slightly pissing you off since you were becoming more and more of a mess by the second. But, the moment your bra fell, he attacked your breasts, burying his face between them. His lips latched onto one of your nipples, tonguing, biting, sucking away at it. One of his hands rested on your hip to keep you steady, while his other gripped at your other tit, massaging the fuck out of it. 

Your hands were lost somewhere in his orange-yellow hair, tugging at the long strands. You moaned his name repeatedly. Shameless and horny, you were loving his attention. “Oh, god, just fuck me,” you sighed. 

He hummed against your nipple. “In a minute, babe,” he muttered between alternating tits, now latching his lips onto your other nipple. 

From his slightly bent over position, you could see his fin lined along his spine. You wondered how it looked in the water, if it flowed within the waves like it did out of them. A hand reached over, gently grazing the ripped, but soft fin with the tips of your fingers. He shuddered against your touch, rolling his shoulders back but didn’t stop his tongue’s attack on your tits. 

You whimpered against him, lightly scratching his scalp with one hand and rubbed up his fin with the other. “Jungkook,” you breathed. You were desperate, needy and in total need of another orgasm. And that was what you kept telling yourself as you stuttered, “p-please, kookie.”

Jungkook froze, mid-suck and looked up at you slowly. “My, my,” he smirked, abandoning your tits and straightening up to his full height once again. Your hand on his fin slid up to his shoulder once more, an action that disappointed him too, his eyes flashing something too needy to be masked by his cocky demeanor. “Begging already, baby?”

You pressed your thighs together, granting yourself the smidgen of friction he was hell-bent on denying you. “That was barely a beg,” you scoffed. 

He shook his head at your words. “Shall we change that?” He lifted your hips before you could even respond and placed you on his desk. You were surprised he could lift you being that you were a grown ass woman and all. 

He spread your legs, groaning quietly to himself at the sight of your cum slick thighs and sticky panties clinging to your folds. Placing a hand to his forehead, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. 

You hated the sudden fear and panic of insecurity that shot through you. However, you couldn’t help but weakly ask, “s-something the matter?”

He nodded, meeting your gaze once more. “Yeah,” he sighed. You felt your heart drop, ready to close your legs when he continued, “those ruined panties haven’t come off yet.” A sigh of relief left you, your momentary panic bringing down all your walls with it as a blush tinted your cheeks. 

Jungkook must’ve liked that sight too because he was proudly smiling to himself. “Let me help you with that, little pet.” He dipped his head between your legs, lapping up the cum that stained your inner thighs too, not too bothered by the slight discolouration of them. 

Your legs were already trembling at the warmth of his mouth. He hooked his arms under both your legs, pulling your pussy closer to his face. Nudging his nose against your clothed clit, he inhaled your sinful scent. “God, this must be a fucking dream,” he muttered more to himself than to you in particular. “You smell even sexier when you fucking cum, babygirl.”

A whimper trickled out of your lips at his words as you gripped onto the edge of the desk. Little did you know that was merely the start of his filth. His mouth engulfed your clothed pussy in a single motion, licking and sucking the cum out of your panties. The hungry groans he made against your heat were boarderline pronographic. You were living for them, rolling your hips into his face relentlessly chasing after your next high. 

Jungkook tsked against your panties as if warning you to behave again, then sunk his teeth into them, catching a bit of your folds too. You cried out his name, your nails scratching at the dark wood beneath you. He watched you intently as he pulled those ruined panties off. You lifted your ass for him a bit and brought your legs together as he leaned back. 

He stood over you once they were off, the piece of clothing still locked in his jaw. Taking them out, he sniffed at them again. You pressed your thighs together once more, mesmerized by the sight before you. “Beautiful,” he rasped. Then he stuffed the wet, balled up panties in his pocket. “Mine now,” he explained, noticing the shock in your eyes. “Just like this pussy.” 

Grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk and spread your legs apart once more. A little blush crept up his neck as the mess before him. He moaned to himself, getting on his knees. You never knew you needed to see a shirtless Jungkook on his knees before. He looked heavenly but his tongue was hellish, licking a clean strip up your folds. You threw your head back as he sucked on your clit. 

“Kookie,” you whimpered, having a lazy hand get lost in his hair again. You weren’t sure how or why you fell into that nickname, but you did and you weren’t planning on stopping. 

He hummed up at you, also accepting the nickname like you’ve been calling him that forever. His tongue swirled around your entrance, teasing - always fucking teasing you. He’d poke the tip of his tongue in only to watch you shudder and immediately clench your walls. His mouth traveled a bit higher halfway through another assault on your clit. 

“Can’t help it,” he muttered before licking at the short hairs a top your pussy. You blushed deeply at his actions. You had hoped he didn’t notice, but now seeing him practically lose himself over it, you felt a bit of pride swell in your chest. 

Jungkook bit at the flesh, tugging the hair with him as he pulled back. He spat on your pubes just to lick it up against the hair again. You gasped, looking down at his filthy actions with pure lust in your eyes. He repeated this action a couple of times, noting how excited it made you then returned to the wetness between your folds. 

“That really turned you on, huh baby?” He questioned watching as more of your wetness pooled out of your entrance. Diving right back in, he lapped up all the new arousal repeating the same flicks of his tongue over and over again. You couldn’t really grasp what the pattern was at first, but then it hit you all at once, forcing you to cry out in approval. He was licking his name against your entrance in Korean and English, poking his tongue into you with the dots of his js. 

“M-marking your territory?” you questioned, trying to sound as confident and composed as he did but your moans kept getting in the way. 

“I’d be drowning in it too if I wasn’t part fish,” he chuckled, fanning his warm breath against you. “Why don’t you prove me wrong, little pet?” His tone hinted that it was more of a suggestion rather than a challenge. “Cum for me.”

You were up for it either way, rolling your hips into his face. Nothing felt as sexy as when the little gills in the hollows of his cheeks brushed up against your inner thighs, slightly quivering at the contact. That unexpected sensation and the way Jungkook began to devour your pussy was enough to shock you into your second orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck yes,” you cried out, moans tumbling out of you endlessly. Your eyes rolled back, head falling back with them as you quivered against his face. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you squealed as you rode your release to the end. 

Jungkook flattened his tongue, letting you get yourself off on him. Once he was sure you finished spasming on his tongue, noting how your thighs started to squeeze his face as they came together, he flicked his tongue back into action. He lapped up your cum, swallowing every ounce of what you’d given him. 

Sensitive and gasping for air, you attempted to weakly push his face off of you. It was an impossible task. He was too strong and too consumed with the task at hand, slurping your juices, unfazed and unbothered. 

“Kookie… I… fuck,” you squealed, closing your legs around his face. He was practically suffocating against your pussy as he drank you up.

He suddenly, and very easily, pushed your legs apart as if you hadn’t just been using all your strength to close them. He got up, face glistening with a mixture of his saliva and your cum. He looked like a fucking goldfish god with his hair all tossel from your grip and face all smeared of your cunt. You wanted to clean it all up for him, but he wouldn’t give you a chance yet. 

His thumbs slid into his waistband about to push his pants down when he caught a glimpse of you. You were looking all fucked out, trembling from the remnants of your last orgasm, legs curled up into your chest. “You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he whispered, all hints of playfulness and teasing threats gone from his tone. He almost sounded sincere, almost sounded like he actually meant all those things he said, like it wasn’t all just words thrown in the heat of the moment. 

You were panting quietly, not exactly sure what to say to that. You felt like you were saved by the exposure of his cock (on many levels) and pushed all thoughts away until you were back to your normal, rational state of mind. 

His cock was huge, veiny, and leaking precum, desperate for some contact. You shakily slid off the desk, fully prepared to get on your knees for him and give his heavenly cock the attention it deserved. But Jungkook tsked at you, nodding his head back to the desk. 

“Back on the desk, babygirl,” he grunted as he began to pump himself using the precum collected on his pink tip. 

You leaned against the edge of the desk for some stability, swallowing thickly at the sight of his veiny hand around his veiny cock. Licking your lips, you met his gaze shyly as if silently asking him to reconsider. 

Jungkook smirked, slightly buckling his hips into his hand. He gave himself a couple more pumps then set his hands on your hips to lift you back up on the desk again. “Be a good girl and I might consider letting you wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my cock next time,” he promised with a smile all too sweet for you to challenge. 

“Next time?” You meekly questioned. 

He positioned himself between your legs, that giddy smile still etched on his lips. He slapped his cock against your wet pussy a couple of times, making you whimper his name, before replying, “just behave, little pet, and you can have my cock down your throat anytime you want.” He then, without much further warning, sunk his cock into your entrance, hissing at the tightness. 

“J-Jungkook,” you sighed, only now just realizing how fucking badly you really needed him to fill you up. Tears pricked your eyes at the pure blissful sensation of his cock stretching you out so fucking good. 

Noticing your tears, he halted all movement. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, concern laced in his tone.

You shook your head immediately, all but begging, “keep going, please. Fuck, please kookie.” 

He let out a sigh of relief and continued to sink into you until he bottomed out. You gasped, holding his gaze while your nails dug into his shoulders. He flashed you a golden smile before pulling out and ramming back into you at a sinful pace. 

 “S-so b-ig,” you choked out between harsh thrusts. 

His face was contoured with pleasure, nose scrunched and brows furrowed in too cute of a way that you would’ve never even guessed he liked it this rough. “Ah-yah,” he gasped, overtaken by the clench of your cunt’s walls. “Tightest cunt I’ve had.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He complied with little complaints and you leaned your forehead against his. Noses brushing, breath exchanging, Jungkook fucked you into the desk with such force, he jolted it back a bit with each thrust. You tilted your head enough to kiss his gills and whine against them. A smile graced his lips at the contact and he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You peppered each gill with kitten licks, then soft kisses despite how rough he was fucking you. 

Your arms moved around his back, practically hugging him. Shaky hands found his fin again and tightly gripped onto it. He buried his face in your hair, evading his senses with the floral scent of your hair, and groaned out little praises in your ear. You bit at his shoulder, subsiding your moans into his skin. You knew you weren’t exactly behaving, leaving little marks on his shoulder, but you also knew Jungkook was too engrossed with how your cunt gripped on his cock to care too much. 

All rough kisses and bites  on his shoulder came to a crashing halt, however, when he hit that spot deep within you. “Jungkook!” You shreeched, throwing your head back. He hit it again and again. Each time he hit it harder and rougher, coaxing you closer and closer to your release. 

You rested your forehead against his again, wanting to stare into his eyes when you came all over his cock this time. “There, there,” you encouraged, moving your hips up to meet his. The entire room returned the quick slaps of skin on skin in faint echoes, reminding you just how filthy this was. 

“Your close, aren’t you, little pet?” Jungkook asked as your cunt tightened around him. “Wanna cum, babygirl?”

You nodded your head eagerly, toes curling as that knot in your lower abdomen twisted in ways you weren’t completely familiar with. 

“Beg.”

“W-what?”

He chuckled and smacked your ass. You gasped, gawking at him in disbelief. “Beg.” he ordered. “I won’t repeat myself again.”

You squealed in frustration. “P-please Jungkook,” you started. “Your cock is so big… just wanna cum all over it. I- ah, I need to cum. Please, just please let me cum, kookie. Please!” 

“Cream on this cock, babygirl,” he growled in approval. 

You unraveled all you had to give him, cumming on his cock as he continued to ram into you in an unforgiving pace. You held his gaze all the while, shrieking moans and trembling whines escaping you. Your eyes slightly rolled back, mouth hung open as you tried your best to maintain eye contact. 

“Ah, fuck! You- you’re so fucking sexy when you cum, baby.” He gasped, thrusts getting sloppier. 

Though you were being overstimulated once again and felt the blissful burning of your after-high start to creep up on you, you still talked Jungkook into his orgasm. “Please fill me up, kookie,” you started, but never really got to finish as that was all it took for him to release ropes of white within you. 

You ground your hips into his as he buried himself deep in you. His brows knitted together, eyes just as needy as yours, cumming deep inside you. You knew he was cumming a lot just from how full you felt, but his cock was so huge, fitting your cunt just right, that it plugged all his cum in you, no remove for leaks. 

You circled your hips into his as he gasped for air, panting his hot breath over your face. “You’re so handsome when you cum,” you whispered, filter completely gone by now. 

Jungkook huffed a little smirk. He nudged his nose against yours before placing a gentle kiss against your lips. It was all over, the heat of the moment, the need for a release. Still, you kissed him back like it was a normal pastime. His tongue played with yours and you let him. It was like you two already had a routine of rough sex and intimate aftercare. And, shockingly enough, you didn’t find that off-putting at all. In fact, you realized you could actually get used to this, used to him like this. 

He pulled away, gasping once again. You joined him this time, slowly untangling yourself from him. You hadn’t even felt him soften inside you, practically just as big as when he was hard. You both gazed down at his cock, watching as he pulled it out to find it coated in a mixture of your cum, completely creamed. The cum plugged within your cunt came pouring out in thick glopes all over your graded paper. 

“Shit,” you whispered, watching your paper being ruined. “Now, that’s never going to the professor,” you huffed, looking up at him again. 

He bit his lip and scratched the back of his neck. “About that,” he began. “That’s actually not your real grade.”

A mixture of confusion and rage clouded your once sex-blown gaze. “What?”

“I may have given you another copy of your paper with a crappy grade just to get under your skin,” he confessed. He rested his hands on your thighs, rubbing them gently as if trying to calm you down. 

It worked. 

You raised a brow up at him. “Were you trying to get me naked?” 

Jungkook blushed, softly chuckling. “That was just as wonderful a surprise to me as it was to you.”

You held his gaze for a moment, finding comfort in the silence and his cute smile. “It was wonderful,” you muttered. 

“No one has touched my fin or gills like that,” he suddenly said, a blush tinting the tips of his ears. 

“Like this?” You asked as you leaned in to stroke his fin and kiss his gills once more. 

His hands found their place on your bruised hips and he hummed, “mhm,” before peppering your neck with sloppy kisses again. “Now get that pretty ass of yours off my desk.” He lifted you up only for you to wrap your legs around his waist. He laughed at your childish antics, holding you up by a newfound grip on your ass. “Come on, (Y/N),” he chuckled. 

You pulled back only a bit with a pouty smile playing on your lips. “Make me,” you whined. 

Jungkook smirked. “As you wish, little pet.”

[starfirette]

Chapter Six: Backtalk Is For Losers

Alstroemeria, Chapter Six: A bit of backtalk gets you into trouble with the infamous Lance Corporal Ackerman.

grand masterlist | previous chapter | more levi | join the taglist: inbox | next chapter coming soon!!!!!

tags: @kuxredere | @luvelyxp | @fan-g0rl | @levisbrat25 | @a-dream-is-reality | @89staytinyzen21 | @cqptainlcvi | @the-average-mastermind | @carlyandthechocolatefactorsugar | @akaashisowl​

a/n: Levi is heeerrreeeeeeeeeee. 

There was a pain that you could sense even before you open your mind to the subject of complete consciousness. It trickled down into your right big toe.

You slowly sat up after you opened your eyes to a row of empty cots made with plain white linen and one flat pillow. You rubbed your eyes, looking around to the majority of the room that was, to say the least, depressing. All along the walls were shelves and cupboards made from dark, grainy wood, set with vials and mason jars of who knows what. 

You reached for the little nightstand on the side of your bed, set with only a tarnished bell that you pressed with your palm. 

Moments later, you could hear shuffling and footsteps coming down the hall. The door opened open, and to your dismay, an unfamiliar woman entered with a glass and a pitcher of something that sloshed with ice. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

You watched with mild shock as she poured you a glass of ice water and held it out. Your dry tongue yearned for the glass, and you took it and gulped it down in a moment. 

The woman gave you a refill. 

“Who are you?” you asked after one more drink. 

“I am the on call surgeon for the survey corps,” she explained, setting the pitcher down on the racketing side table. 

“I’m at the survey corps?” you asked. Your brows contorted with confusion. “How long have I been...?”

“About four days,” she explained. “You were badly hurt during the battle of Trost and you lost a lot of blood. Your injury required twenty two stitches, all on your lower back, where you had a five centimeter deep gash after being dropped on a rock fragment.”

You were dumbfounded. “Four days?” Four days for such a minor injury? 

“You must have needed the rest,” the surgeon said with a simple shrug. “Your friends attested your long day of hard work.”

“Why am I with the survey corps?” you asked. “Where are the others?” You’d been  half tempted to ask for your friends, but you didn’t really have friends. You had people you’d trained and bunked and fought with, but not ‘friends.’ 

“You are one of the few cadets that seemed to be close to the asset. Captain Ackerman has been waiting for you to wake up so that you can be questioned.” 

Questioned? Captain Ackerman? Asset? Though none of that answered your question about the other cadets, it explained why you were at the survey corps hospital. 

The surgeon explained Eren as the asset, and Captain Ackerman is the man in charge of anything related to Eren.  Captain Ackerman wanted to know about Eren, from every point of view possible.

You drank the rest of your water before crawling out of bed. You could feel the stiff sutures rub against the fabric of your shirt. The ache of the injury stiffened your movements as you paced back and forth across the length of the room like the doctor had asked of you. 

She made a note on the parchment pad she held before setting it down and making way to the cabinets that lined the wall. It was filled with syringes made of brass and had foggy glass jars filled with powders and pills capsules. 

She leveled four scoops of a thin, white powder and placed it in a small drawstring bag. “That’ll be for the pain,” she says. “Mix one spoonful it into water or tea before bed and again as needed. The survey corps only allows one dosage of painkillers per injury, so you will not be getting any refills. Try not to get addicted.” 

You were tempted to toss the bag back towards her. “Addicted?” you said with wary. 

The surgeon shrugged. 

“What’s your name again?” you asked. She lifted her brows. 

“I am Kathie Perrine, head of surgery and chief assistant to Hanji Zoe, the lead on science and medical research here at the corps.” Kathie reached for the glass frames that were tucked into her shirt pocket, unfolding the arms then placing them at the bridge of her nose. “The captain will give you more information on your room detail and other housing matters. You and the other cadets will be given the formal opportunity to choose your branch of desired service after Eren Jaegar’s trial. Captain Ackerman’s office is up the staircase outside the room, at the right hand wall. It’s the very first entrance.”

You clutched your bag of medicine tightly, nodding and trying to soak up all the information you could. It felt like Kathie was trying to get you out of the surgery as soon as possible, even though you didn’t feel ready yet. 

“What if I get lost?” you asked before you budged. 

Kathie looked lost herself. “Ask for directions. You’ll get it.” 

As you walked out the double surgery doors, you felt like Kathie wasn’t too concerned with you getting to the apparently important Captain Ackerman. Maybe you’d get lost in the giant place and die. Maybe you’re stitches would rip open and you’d bleed to death on the stairs. 

It felt like it would happen as you climbed the steps, wincing as the tightly closed wound on your back stretched with every movement. It was worse than the sort of stretch you got when your knee was scabbed. It was real. 

This was all real. You were at the cadet corps in God knows where, about to meet God knows who. 

But you had been assured by Miss Perrine that Captain Ackerman would set you straight with your living details and your new assignments. Then you could get the hell out of here. 

The survey corps was not a place you wanted to be. 

With every step up the winding staircase, you could remember the agonizing noises of wailing and screaming on the roads of Trost. 

You looked at your hands; you flex and clench them, looking at every detail of your skin. You had been scrubbed down. No dirt and blood was jammed underneath your fingernails. 

What was that boy’s name? 

You suddenly remembered him as you took a stark right, looking at the oak door to Captain Ackerman’s office. 

You hesitantly rapped your knuckles against the door. 

“Enter,” a stern sounding voice sounded from beyond the oak. 

You turned the brass handle and opened the door to a neatly put together office. It was a normal looking one, with a large wooden desk, stacks of yellowish parchment and leather bound books. You were completely stunned to see who must be the one and only Captain Ackerman. 

He wasn’t like you’d imagined at all. For one, he wasn’t old. At least, he didn’t look like it. He was older than you, by maybe ten or so years. His hair wasn’t white or gray, but rather a deep shade of black that had undertones of violet in the candlelight. 

He was sorting papers, not bothering to look up as he spoke. “Name?” 

“Y/n L/n,” you stammered, offering a weak salute. You felt strangely embarrassed by the greeting, wondering if he’d look at you and wonder why on earth you were doing such a pose. It didn’t feel like he was a captain. He felt like something much more intimidating. 

His eyes finally met yours, and you felt like you’d been slapped in the face. Sharp and steely as they were, they were darkly beautiful. He had a stern looking expression, one to match his voice, and the finest bone structure you think you’d ever seen. 

He did not look like he belonged in the survey corps. He looked like he belonged in the royal courts at the interior, maybe even on the arm of a princess. 

“Yes, miss L/n,” he murmured to himself as he searched through his papers. “Have a seat.” 

You strained to do so without meeting his gaze as he looked back and forth between files. 

“I am Levi Ackerman, a squad leader here. For the time being I’m also taking the lead on the Eren Jaeger case. I’ll be asking some questions about Jaeger and I am expecting your full, honest answers. Now, until you’ve chosen a corps to serve in you’re going to be residing here and answering directly to me.”

He looked at you for confirmation when you did not answer, a thin eyebrow raised high. 

You stammered, “Oh, yes sir,” as a pathetic reply. 

The captain tutted under his breath. “Room assignment is seven in the girls hallway,” he said then, going through his papers. He didn’t sound like he really wanted to be going over this all with you. “Sauna and showers every morning at seven sharp for the females. Breakfast seven thirty. Lunch is optional, all noon. Dinner eight in the evening. Questions?” 

“No, sir,” you quickly said. You could remember all of that. Maybe. 

“Let’s talk about Jaeger.”

It was an abrupt topic change, one that you didn’t quite welcome. To be honest, you didn’t want to be here at all. You were in the total dark about everything. Where was Krista and Ymir? 

And Armin, and Mikasa, and even Eren? 

Reiner? 

The last image that you could muster into your brain was clutching Eren’s limp body in your arms. You remember trying to pull him free of the titan corpse and then nothing else. 

“Last time you and I met, you had been recently injured,” Levi noted. “How is that?” 

You blinked. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, “but I don’t actually remember meeting you.” 

The captain impatiently tapped his pencil “The injury?” he repeated.

You felt your face flush with warmth and embarrassment. “Better,” you said quietly, using a hand to feel the medicine in your pocket. 

“And was that induced by Jaeger?” 

“I don’t think so. No.”

“Do you think, or do you know?” the captain asked. His eyes were a stronghold, trying to force their way into your nerves. 

“I-No.”

“So, you know, then?” the captain asked. He leaned back in his chair, using his forefingers to massage his temples. “It’s a simple question.” 

“No.” You spoke firmly. “Eren did not hurt me.” 

“You do not remember meeting me,” the captain drawled, “but you remember clearly that Eren did not hurt you?” 

Floundering was the only way to describe how you were currently feeling. The captain seemed to know every way to make you feel flustered and feverish. 

“This feels oddly like an interrogation, captain,” you said before you could stop yourself. 

His eyebrows lifted in shock. You could see the age in the crinkles around his eyes as he finally let his face relax. Late twenties, maybe even around thirty, you estimated. 

“Let me correct you, cadet,” the captain said slowly. “This is. Did you know Eren Jaegar was a titan?” 

Your eyes would have rolled out of your head if you could widen them any wider. “Absolutely not,” you snapped. “I wasn’t under the impression that any human could be a titan.” 

“If I were you I would very quickly adjust that attitude, Y/n,” the captain said smoothly. It shook something in your belly when he said it. His dark eyes were unwavering and they peered into you with no remorse. 

“I did not know. I don’t know Eren, really. He and I were never friends.” 

“Were you close with the Armin boy?” Levi asked as he looked at his pages, making some notes in the margin. 

“No.”

“And the girl?” 

“Your relative?” you asked for confirmation. 

The captain looked surprised again. “Do not begin to assume anything about me, L/n,” the captain said carefully. “Though she and I share the surname, I do not know her. That wasn’t the question. Were you, or are you, close to Mikasa Ackerman?” 

“...No,” you said again, feeling the strain of frustration tugging at your jaw, keeping your mouth tense. 

“Were you ever threatened by Jaeger?” the captain proceeded to ask. 

“Never. I hardly interacted with him.” You crossed your ankles.

“Then why help him?” the captain asked. 

You paused. You looked at the captain with a blank expression. 

He lifted his eyebrows again, silently repeating the question with what you would have imagined to be a tone of annoyance. “Is there a problem?”

“Is there some reason I shouldn’t have helped him? Does that make me a bad person? An accomplice? I would have liked some support, had it been me. I can’t understand why you don’t understand about-”

“About?” the captain challenged. He wore a strange sort of smirk, as if he were impressed by your impending outburst; it was like he’d been waiting for it all this time. 

“About human decency,” you concluded. 

The captain had a mask of amusement on his face as he folded his hands overtop his desk. “You’re a stark change from the usual cadets around here.”

“How so?” you asked, feeling your face sizzling with impending embarrassment. 

“You’re a much bigger dumbass than most of them. In the two interactions we’ve had together, you’ve proven yourself to be quite stubborn. You refuse to die, and yet you also refuse to comply with human nature. The nature in this compound is that I am your captain and I ask you what I ask you not to humiliate you, but to form a solid basis of what I’m dealing with. Eren Jaeger is not a usual situation. I will not have usual reactions. Despite that, I expect you to behave like a cadet should behave. You’ve made your impression. Those are all the questions I have for you today. Report to your quarters, change into uniform, then report here immediately.”

“For what?” you asked, your voice squeaky with humiliation. 

“For janitorial service. Problem with that?” 

His challenging tone was just daring you to talk back one more time. 

You ground your teeth in a hard clench. “No, sir.” 

“You are dismissed,” the captain said with a small wave of his pale, slender hand. You could see the scars and callouses that littered the top of his palm even from your seat across the desk. 

Standing to your feet, with your fists clenched at your side, you offered Levi a stiff salute; you didn’t mean it, without a doubt, but you didn’t want to risk getting in even more trouble. 

“Dismissed, cadet,” the captain said again. “I expect a swift return.”

You have never felt so completely humiliated. The captain had practically gutted you in there. Your legs trembled by the knees as you stormed out of the office. 

You paused in your steps, groaning, then you turned around again, making your way back inside. 

“Yes, cadet?” the captain asked, sounding exhausted as he immediately pinched his nose in frustration. 

“I forgot my room assignment,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his gaze. 

“Room seven, girls’ hallway,” he said. “I can write it down if you’d like.” 

“No thank you. Sir,” you added before he could bitch again. 

It was a slap in the goddamn face to have to march up to your room while knowing you’d have to march back down and face your first ever corporal punishment. 

The girls’ hallway was marked by a little plaque on the door. All the doors were made of the same kind of heavy oak with grains and lines from the aged tree it’d been born. No numbers were put up. You had to count a few times, unsure of how the rooms were meant to be numbered. Down one wall, then back the other? Or alternating? 

You hesitated to enter the room you thought would be yours. You knocked a couple of times, while pressing your ear up against the door to hear any answers inside. 

The room, though muffled, was undeniably silent. You opened up the sticky door, the door swinging into the room. 

It was a plain room, but no doubt better than the group bunks you had at the training academy. One unmade cot was pressed up in the left corner. Your familiar trunk of belongings sat on the bare mattress, alongside a set of sheets, a woven quilt, and two dismal pillows. 

There were no windows; rather the light source for the rest of your days here would be the oil lamp or the three large candles sitting on the pathetic looking desk pushed up against the north facing wall. 

Wow. You sure got lucky with room number seven, you bitterly think to yourself as you slam the door shut behind you. Stalking forward you could feel the slight pain in your back as you threw open your trunk. You felt relieved to see your belongings packed in it. It must have been brought after the attack. 

As you sifted through, looking for your uniform, you felt rage boiling in the pit of your stomach. The prickly, uptight Captain Ackerman had an easy time brushing off your attitude and asking you insensitive questions about Eren. Who knows what Eren’s feeling right now? His experience compared to the others that suffered in Trost is entirely different, but likely just as traumatic. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. 

Really, you couldn’t imagine how anyone was feeling.

You thought back to Fable, her baby Bree, and that boy who was just around your age, whose name you’d forgotten. You felt nauseous as you imagine the fate that could have befallen them after they left with your horse. 

You didn’t want to know the details. You’d rather go on the rest of your life assuming they made it to their little farm in Fairkelt by Stohess. 

Just as you didn’t want to know the details of their adventure, you certainly didn’t want to know what happened in Trost after your injury. You feel lucky for not remembering the injury itself, or your apparent first meeting with Captain Levi Asshole-man. 

Four days has been long enough to clear out the titans and assemble the dead. 

You took your time buttoning up your shirt as you tried to keep the Captain waiting for as long as possible (without getting in even more trouble). Maybe if you just barricade your door, he’ll give up and let you go on your way. 

Doubtful. 

You shoved your feet into your knee high boots, strapping up the buckles as you eyed your trunk you’d moved to the floor. It was a little bit pitiful to look at the small room and realize you didn’t even have enough belongings to fill it up. There wasn’t even enough clothing to constitute owning a wardrobe. 

You kicked the trunk out of the way as you stalked out of the seventh bedroom in the girls’ hallway. 

Your back did feel stiff and achy as you sped walked to Captain Ackerman’s office. 

As you walked down the stairs, you could see him waiting outside of his office door, leaning against the door frame with a bucket of water and a lame mop. 

“Reporting for janitorial duty, sir,” you scowled as you salute him. The captain simply gestured for you to take the mop. “In the future,” he said as you took the handle, “you will be expected to know where the cleaning supplies are, as you will have to get them yourself,” 

“Thank you so much, sir,” you scowled again. 

“Cadet, your attitude is the reason you’re doing this,” the captain said carefully. “I would suggest keeping that attitude of yours in check for the duration of your stay.” 

If you had the balls to do it, you would have made a retort featuring something about his height. It was surprising how short he was. You couldn’t tell by him simply sitting, but on his feet, he didn’t even exceed 5-foot-four. 

You chose to keep your mouth shut the way he’d so lovingly suggested. 

You dunked the mop head into the water before slapping it against the stone floor. “Happy mopping, cadet. I’ll make sure to leave my office door open if you have any questions. I except the hallway and the staircase to be done after thirty minutes. Then we can review your next cleaning assignment.”

Thirty minutes, you think angrily as the captain turns his back on you to retreat into his stupid office. Just how long would this little punishment last? 

You got to work mopping the hallway outside of the captain’s door; his office seemed to be the only one down here, so you didn’t have any luck of running into your acquaintances. While you wanted to ask him about any of them, you had a small feeling he’d be of little help. 

You supposed that you couldn’t blame him. If he truly were managing Eren Jaeger’s case, he must have an enormous amount of work he needs to get done. Your testimony, though filled with ‘attitude’ may have helped him some, and he needs to properly log it.  How stressful. 

Such a job would produce wrinkles in the forehead. 

Looking at him as he works, you can see that while he may be older than you, his face is rather smooth. You’d peg him to be in his later twenties. 

You were stunned to look from his office to the corridor, and seeing a young woman approaching. You blushed. You didn’t want her to think strangely of you for continually glancing into the Captain’s office. 

“Good afternoon, miss cadet,” the woman said kindly. You lamely gathered a salute as you got caught in the warmth of her eyes. She was incredibly beautiful. She had soft hazel eyes, and wavy reddish brown hair that tickled her chin and neck. 

“Is Captain Levi available?” 

Levi must have heard the woman’s voice. He quickly stood to his feet, pushing down his stack of papers and striding out of the office. 

“Petra,” he said smoothly. His voice was noticeably kinder than it had been when he had spoken to you. 

“Hello Captain,” Petra replied with a voice so genuinely sweet. “I see you’ve been working hard. Already giving poor cadets janitorial punishments? She’ll never want to join the survey corps now,” she added, throwing a small wink your way. 

You would have laughed if you weren’t so flabbergasted by the captain’s change in demeanor. 

So he could be nice! You supposed any one would be nice to a young woman as pretty and charming as Petra. So, that’s not you. Not that it matters. 

You don’t need the captain to like you, mostly because you have no intention of staying in the survey corps longer than you have to. You’d certainly had enough of death and destruction to last you an entire lifetime. The Garrison unit just made sense. 

It’s not as if you had any other options. 

You did your best not to eavesdrop on the conversation Levi and Petra were having. You mostly wanted to listen for details on any of your friends, maybe even Reiner or Krista. Any familiar mention of the two would make you feel somewhat better for being trapped here. 

“L/n,” the Captain called. 

You jolt with a start. You cast your eyes into the office, the sole point you’d been trying to avoid until now. “Yes, captain?” you asked meekly. His gaze combined with Petra’s made you feel strangely sick. 

“Finish up with the staircase,” he said dismissively, immediately turning his attention back to Petra, as if he hadn’t just spoken to you. “Then you’ll be escorted to the mess hall for dinner.” 

You blinked back tears of absolute ignominy.

Petra noticed how you’d been silently struck by the captain’s curt words, and she tugged his sleeve, whispering something to him with her eyebrows sternly furrowed. 

You weren’t sure that you could bare the weight of their eyes any longer, or even the potentially cruel response from the captain. 

You strained to pick up your bucket. You knelt down, wincing at the strain it put on your stiches. The flat soles of your boots left imprints on the wet floor as you slowly walked up the stairs of the spiral case. 

Water sloshed over the bucket as you struggled to place it somewhere constructive. Rather than listen to Petra and the Captain, you tried to decide how the hell you would go about mopping stairs. It was very compelling as you tried to block out the small laughs that Petra let out downstairs as they discussed the “shitty new batch of cadets.” 

You felt slightly unnerved at the thought of the captain shit talking you to Petra. What did you ever do to that man? 

You’d done nothing. You couldn’t be expected to not get angry when the captain likes a dickhead. You dunked your mop into the bucket before you sloshed the head of it around on the first step. 

As long as Captain Ackerman is apart of this corps, you’d never, ever join. You would rather slap the man in the face then tell him to shoved. Straight up a titan’s-

A slight scream left your mouth as you felt the heel of your boot pushed the bucket of water back. It clunked against the steps, spilling the water across the way and gathering beneath your boots. The flat soles did nothing to save you as you felt the entire world tipping backwards. 

You tumbled down the hard set of stairs, shrieking so abruptly at the pain that you bit your tongue hard. 

It was a hard thump at the bottom of the steps, your head cracking against the stone floor. 

“Oh, m--!”

You could hardly hear the rushing footsteps to your side as Petra’s light feet slapped against the floor. 

Her light head of hair appeared over you, her eyes wide as she knelt down to your side. 

“Are you alright?” 

No. You were not alright. You were laying in a pool of your own blood because your stitches pulled open. You opened your mouth to reply, to maybe even ask for help, but the blood from your tongue seeped out in a mixture of your saliva. 

This seemed to truly frighten Petra as she called for the captain. 

“No,” you begged her, wiping your mouth as you tried to sit up. “Not the captain.” 

“Christ, L/n,” the captain swore as he exited the office. “I only asked you to mop. Is that something to throw yourself down the stairs over?” 

He came to your side, just by Petra. He rolled the white sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows as he examined your wounds. “Ah, shit,” he muttered. 

You flinched under the captain’s touch. His arm swept underneath your back, pulling you to sit upright. His hand tugged at the blood soaked hem of your shirt. His palm felt warm against your wound. “Shit,” he said again. “Okay, you’re going to the surgery.” 

“No,” you said quickly. You used the back of your mouth to wipe the spit from your mouth. “I just came out of there.” 

Petra looked horrified at your words. She whirled her head towards the captain. “She just came out of the medical unit,” she gasped. “And you already had her go onto janitorial service?” 

Levi looked flabbergasted. He didn’t bother to say anything. Surprisingly, he just kept his mouth shut as he swept his other arm beneath your legs. You tried to push out of his arms as he rose to his feet. 

You were slightly shocked at how strong he was, especially considering his height. 

“Medical unit,” the captain said sternly. “Now.” 

“I can walk there,” you argued, still squirming under the feeling of his strong hand clasped across your wound. 

He met your eyes with his own. It was a strange sight. Up close, his eyes were less dark. They were a smoky grey, with little wisps of crystalline blue seemingly fracked into the irises. 

“Let me do my job, cadet,” Levi said as he continued to carry you down the hall. 

You felt so close to tears as you earned glances of confusion from the wandering soldiers. While the captain didn’t seem to mind, you really did. You hated feeling so exposed and helpless to a person you didn’t even know. You fought in the Trost battle, for Wall’s sake! You could make it to the surgery all on your own. 

Shame doused over you as Levi kicked the door of the surgery open, immediately demanding a bed and attention for you. You hated the way he said your name. Cadet Y/n L/n sounded almost like an insult. It didn’t take a genius to know that the captain doesn’t like you very much; perhaps some reason is your own fault. Even so, you felt like you didn’t deserve to be judged based off a first interaction. 

Or, second interaction, if you count the captain’s claim that he met you during Trost. You couldn’t remember that no matter how hard you tried, in the same way you couldn’t remember Fable’s friend’s name. 

Kathie Perrine stalked towards you and Levi, rolling her eyes practically to the back of her head when she recognized you. “Back for more?” she asked you. 

She gestured a thin hand to one of the made beds. 

You tried to crawl out of Levi’s hold. He didn’t let you. Instead, he placed you gently on the mattress. 

And then he left. 

You looked after him, shocked that he had managed to be so nimble and graceful looking even with his hand covered in your blood. You blushed as Kathie approached you, looking not as gentle as Levi had been. “What happened?” 

You started to unbutton your shirt as she gestured for you, mumbling in a low voice, “I fell down the stairs.” 

“You fell down the stairs?” Kathie said for confirmation. A little part of you was willing to be that she was repeating it to rub it in your face. She sighed. “Well, lay on your stomach girl. I’m going to have to close them up.” 

You cringed. “Is there any way for me to be unconscious during this procedure?” You begged. 

“Not unless you want me to hit you over the head with a lead pipe,” the doctor said. “I can give you a drink of whiskey, though,” she added hopefully. 

You accepted. 

You downed the two shots Kathie measured out for you before turning to lay on your stomach. Her hands were cold against the sticky, warm mess of your wounded back. They didn’t feel anything like the captain’s had. 

You tried to focus on the captain’s hand as Kathie made the first stitch. 

You wonder if he felt bad, at all. You wonder if he’s discussing just how lame and clumsy you are with Petra. Sure, a small part of you knows you slipped on your own accord, but majority of your brain blames the captain. He had to have known you’d just gotten out of the medical unit. 

Oh, but maybe that’s just how it works in adult life. Perhaps you’re just used to being coddled by Commander Sadies; it was strange, thinking that Sadies was the nice one in comparison to the 5′3 captain. 

“So, what happened?” Kathie asked. 

You clutched onto a pillow, trying not to tear the fabric apart and release the feathers. “I fell down the stairs while mopping.” 

Kathie snorted a laugh. You didn’t exactly appreciate it. 

“Well,” she said, “I suppose you learned your lesson. I’m tempted to put you on bed rest...but, with Eren Jaeger’s trial coming up, you’ll need to attend.” 

You strained your neck to look at Kathie. “Why do I need to attend?” 

“The captain wants you to. Captain Ackerman, that is. He’s been postponing this trial for days, waiting for you to wake up. You were a key witness, you know. He was adamant that you attend. You’ll have to go in a wheelchair.”

You dropped your face into your pillow. “’Wheelchair?!’” you repeated, sounding (and feeling) mortified. 

“Trust me, there’s lots of soldiers here that would kill to be put onto wheelchair rest. You’ll be in it for a week.”

“What about my room?” 

“Hmm,” Kathie hummed as she did one last stitch. “I suppose you’ll be sleeping down here. I can send someone for your belongings, if you wish. Don’t worry, I won’t be too mean to you.” 

You winced at the feeling of her stitching, taking comfort when she told you all she needed to do now was bandage you. 

There was a small levee on the wall, made from a wooden handle that poured water from the embedded spout as she pulled it. Kathie dunked a cloth into the water bucket and grabbed a roll of cloth bandages from one of the taller cabinets on the wall. 

You braced yourself for the freezing water, and hissed as Kathie put the cold washcloth to your skin. 

“If you didn’t want to be uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have fallen down the stairs,” Kathie said in cool tone.

You turned your neck once to glare. “The captain put me on janitorial punishment,” you explained, your voice sounding just slightly snotty.

Kathie tutted. “So soon? I’ll have a word with the captain. Not the first time he’s overworked my patients.” 

The captain has a history of this? 

Ugh. 

You pulled your pillow closer to your face. You focused on the fabric threads, your eyes going cross eyed, as you mumbled, “I don’t think he likes me very much.” 

“Trust me, kid,” Kathie laughed. “He doesn’t like anyone.” 

When the bandages were done, Kathie helped you roll over onto your back.

As you nuzzled down into the bed that would be yours for the next week, you had one thought that stood out against the others. Anyone, except for Petra. 

“I’ll bring you a tray of dinner tonight, and with that you can take your painkiller. I’m giving you a stronger dose, so it might make your stomach uneasy. I’ll send someone up for your things here soon, alright?” Kathie set a folded, linen shirt on your lap. You were bracing your chest with the blanket from the cot. 

“Alright,” you mumbled as you slowly tugged the cloth over your head. It’s not as though you have a choice. “Miss Perrine?” you call before she can leave. 

“Yes?” 

Your cheeks felt warm and rosy before you could speak. “Did you, by any chance, treat a patient by the name of Krista Lenz?” 

Kathie shook her head without any thought. “She a friend of yours?” 

“You could say that,” you shrugged. You didn’t want to feel to sad to hear that. It’s good to know that Krista wasn’t hurt. 

“I can ask around. I’ll see if she’s stationed here. Do you want me to let you know?” 

You carefully leaned back against the propped up pillow you pushed behind your neck. “That would be lovely,” you murmured. “Thank you, Miss Perrine.”