#Just to be clear in case someone outside of the people who already know sees this

[selfshippingwhenever]

Magolor’s stronger form when he’s not corrupted by the master crown

Important Note: These (yellow rings) printed on like normal, not gold from master crown!

Important Note 2: Not burning, just hazy magic- real body is completely fine!

[kimarii-00]

Honey would please write something like when Armando left his gf she is a hacker and a weapon specialist without saying anything turned out that's not the only person he left behind. ( Tiny a baby girl who like to hold a wooden spoon ) They meet again when they going to the ammo squad in bad boys for . Her Kelly are besties . Very very angst.

(I accidentally deleted the ask, but I wrote it down before I did so above is the prompt for this, asked by anonymous)

Regrets and Punishments

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language

❥Word Count: 2.7k

❥Part 1/2

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

AN: I’m ngl I’m not sure if you meant that you wanted them to have a kid or not, but I wrote it just in case, let me know if that's not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it! (I also gave the kid a name)

I think I’m going to make this a two parter because I kinda took this prompt and ran with it lol

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

He never thought he’d see you again. As much as he didn’t want to, he accepted the fact that he’d fucked up your relationship when he decided to leave you in favor of helping his mothers’ dirty work. He didn’t even give you so much as a call after he’d left to let you know that he was even alive. He only hoped that you were doing fine on your own.

Nonchalantly, Armando walked through the door to the house of the people Mike and Marcus knew, not giving a damn about the warning to stay outside like Mike had told him to. No wonder a gun was drawn and pointed at him as soon as he stepped foot in the home.

“Woah, woah! Kelly-” Mike began his attempt to mediate the situation, “I asked you to wait outside for a second… Alright, Kelly, he’s with us.” Standing in between the gun and his son.

“He can’t be here.” Kelly retorted, keeping her gaze on the wanted criminal standing before her.

“This is my son, Armando.”

“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” The gun never faltered as she spoke with a solid, demanding voice, “I trust you with my life, but I sure as shit don’t trust him.”

“I trust him,” Mike confirmed.

“Then take him to your house.”

Dorn cleared his throat, trying to release some of the tension that had built in the room. Armando said nothing as Dorn came over to try to calm his girlfriend, and Mike took his son to the opposite side of the room.

Marcus sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and snatched up a bag of chips, “This is some dysfunctional shit.” He said, looking back and forth between the two duos.

They came back together after a minute or two. “She’s fine,” Dorn said.

“She don’t look fine…” Marcus expressed, taking in the obvious irritation and discomfort on her face.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned in the direction of Armando, where he only opened the fridge to grab a drink.

“It’s the language barrier,” Marcus explained to Dorn.

“It was English!”

“It was definitely English.”

“I have to call someone. I’ll be back,” Kelly said, picking up her phone and already beginning to dial, “If I’m going to do this I’m gonna need another girl here. She’ll be able to help with the tech stuff too.”

“Is it–” Dorn began, but cut himself off when Kelly nodded, “Tell her to leave Demi at home, we don’t know what kind of shit we’re getting into.”

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

When you got the call from Kelly, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. She told you she needed you to come over, but when you asked her why, she only said something about “emotional support”. You’d tried to press her for more details but she only mentioned having some people over and needing your tech skills. After a while, you just decided you’d go, but not before you handled your own business.

“Demi, come here please!” You called out while folding another shirt, making a nice crease and adding it to your pile of similar neatly folded shirts.

The aggressive pitter-patter of small feet hitting your hardwood floors alerted you that the person you’d called for was on their way.

“Mama!” You felt the bed on which you were folding clothes dip a bit as a weight threw itself into the soft mattress. You smile when you set your eyes on the girl who is smiling to herself contently—your daughter.

“Mimi, mama has to leave soon,” You said as you picked her up and set her on your hip so you could continue to fold while holding your toddler, “Tiara should be here soon to look after you, okay?” You say, referring to your babysitter that you should probably be paying more considering how many times you’ve called her in the past week or so.

“Mama leaving… again?” Your heart dropped when you watched the smile fade from your daughter's face when she realized you were going to be gone and she was going to be left with the babysitter for what felt like the hundredth time. You always felt bad when things like this came up but… you couldn’t just blow Kelly off. Not after all she’s done for you.

“Yes… Mama’s leaving, I’m sorry baby but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?” You tried to cheer her up by giving her stomach a few tickles but your daughter was as stubborn as they come, her pout seemingly permanently stuck to her face.

The doorbell stole your attention and you gently set your daughter down. She followed you to the front door, and when you opened it her permanent pout was replaced with nothing but… confusion. You joined her in sporting this facial expression when you both looked at the stranger at your doorstep.

“Can I.. help you?” You ask the woman. She had a soft smile on her face, but for some reason, it didn’t seem welcoming.

“I’m your babysitter.” The woman replied.

“Um… I’m sorry there must be some mistake. My usual babysitter’s name is Tiara, I called her a while ago-”

“Tiara asked me to come here in her stead, she isn’t feeling too well, unfortunately. I’m a coworker of hers.” The woman explained, but you weren’t convinced. Tiara hadn’t mentioned any of this to you when you called her-

Just then, as you were about to make up your mind about whether or not you wanted to slam the door on the lady, you received a message from… Tiara.

3:34 Tiara (Babysitter): Hey, so sorry for the inconvenience but I’m not feeling good today, I sent over my coworker because I know you needed a sitter ASAP! Her name is Sara.

“What was your name again?” You asked, slowly taking your eyes off of your phone and to the lady, still wearing that smile on her face.

“Sara.”

You look her up and down once more before stepping to the side to let the woman inside. Your daughter hid behind and clung to your leg, only peeking out when she was sure the strange woman was not looking at her.

“Um… This is Demi,” You gesture to the girl who has glued herself to your right leg. You try to get her to say hello but she refuses. Sara stoops down to your daughter's level and tries to wave at her but Demi only scooches further out of sight. “The fridge is fully stocked, there are only a few weres, really: Don’t invite anyone else over, no drinking, oh and her bedtime is 8:30.”

“Please do not worry, I’m sure me and Demi will have a great time together.” Sara expresses, that damn smile still plastered on her face. There’s something about this lady that you just don’t like, but if Tiara sent her then it’s probably just you overreacting, right?

“Right… Could I get your phone number, just in case?” You say. She recites her number to you and you quickly enter it into your phone and save the contact, just in case of an emergency. You then turn around and kneel to look your daughter in the face.

“Be good, okay Mimi? I promise I’ll be back soon,” You say, giving her a quick peck on the forehead and a hug. She looks extremely hesitant and to be honest, so are you, but you’re already running late… “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Demi says meekly.

You smile and turn to leave.

If Tiara sent her, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

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

You parked in front of the house that your best friend and her boyfriend lived in. You had no guesses as to why she called you here, but if your technology skills could be useful to her, you’d want to help in any way you can.

You knock on the door and after a while, Kelly answers but stops you before you can go inside. “We kind of got ourselves in some shit, we’ll fill you in.”

She grabs your wrist, pulls you inside, and closes the door shut. The first thing that you lay your eyes on is the monitors that Dorn was sifting through. Pulling up various pictures of people and files that look confidential.

Should I even be here right now…?

“What's the situation?” You ask as you move towards Dorn.

“Remember when we told you all that stuff about Captain Conrad–”

“(Name)?”

You pause when you hear your name. The voice sounds so familiar you're almost scared to turn around and see who it was that called you. You think you know who it was that called, which is probably another reason as to why it takes you so very long to fully turn and face the man that has broken your heart time and time again.

It’s like the world stopped. All of a sudden, everyone in that room except for the man in front of you was irrelevant. There were so many things you wanted to say, yet no words left your mouth.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

All of the emotions flowing through you quickly became too much. Without a word, your feet guided you to the nearest room in which you could be alone.

“Do yall know each other?” Mike asked, but received no answer when his son went after the girl, “Do they know each other?” He asked in a more general way, but was met with nothing. The tension silenced everyone.

You ripped your arm out of the hand that had caught it when you reached the empty room. “Get the fuck off of me! What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaimed angrily. All of a sudden, all of those feelings you felt were entirely replaced by rage. Anger, directed at the man who’d left you without a second thought.

“I–” Armando began, but was cut off.

“Y’know what, I don’t care! Get the hell out of my face!”

“(Name), wait– stop,” He said, grabbing hold of your bicep when you tried to turn away from him again.

“You have some fucking nerve!” You growled, entirely in shock of the fact that he thinks he’ll just have a nice chat with you, “I haven’t seen your ass in years! Not a fucking call, or even a damn text! Nothing!”

“I know, I know, I didn’t plan on it being like that,” he pointed out. In actuality, he had no clue or reason as to why he followed you here. He knew he fucked up their relationship and a few words wasn’t going to change that fact. So why was he so desperate to get you to hear him out? He was never like this. It’s been years, why do you still have this weird affect on him?

“Yeah? Well I never planned on being abandoned by you, but look where we fuckin’ are now. Get the hell away from me,” You seethed. He had no clue how hard you were trying not to cry, “I said get the hell off of me!”

You snatch your arm from his grip. Deep down, underneath all of the anger that had boiled up to the surface, you’d missed Armando. You really did. Dealing with the pain of losing him, and never hearing from him until, well now. Taking care of Demi–

Does he even know about Demi? Does he know he’s a…

“Guys, so sorry to interrupt but we have a problem,” Kelly announced from around a corner. You hold eye contact with Armando for a few more seconds, trying to read his face but ultimately giving up. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. You stomp out of the room, and he lags behind you.

Upon entering the room where everyone was gathering around Dorn and his monitors, you see he is tapped into someone's security feed, which you quickly find out is Marcus’ and Mikes’ homes where their families were. Dorn was notifying the police to send backup and you realize that there are people attempting to break into the homes. Does this have something to do with their investigation with Captain Conrad?

Mike and Marcus grab their phones and quickly make calls, telling their people to hide, and leave their houses. You watch the cameras and watch as the masked men make their way into the two guys’ respective houses.

“Fuck, fuck!” Marcus says when he watches someone from his house grab a gun from a safe and hide the rest of the family in a closet. You can only home that whoever Marcus decided to trust with his family’s safety was skilled.

Everyone watches and commentates on the man's performance in the security feed, taking down the trespassers one by one until he is able to safely transport the rest of the family out of the house, but not before saluting to the security camera for us onlookers to see.

Mike is not so lucky, as he is not able to reach his wife in time to warn her and the girl who was with her at the time. We all have to watch when she’s easily overpowered and tied up. Mike is still on the phone with her, able to hear everything that’s going on.

A sudden devious voice sounds through the phone, one that was definitely not his wife, “Mr. Lowrey.”

“Who am I speaking to?” Mike lowers his voice and says in a serious tone.

“I think you know who you’re speaking to,” the voice says ominously, “I need your boy, and whatever evidence your beloved Captain has foiled away.” You eye Armando whose eyes were flicking back and forth from the phone to Mike, “And for that, you can have your wife. I’ll call you back with instructions.”

“Ah, shit…” Mike grumbles, but the man on the other side of the phone has not yet hung up.

“Ms. (Name), I know you’re there as well.” Your heart drops to your toes. What could this man want with you? “I’d go ahead and check the security systems for your house as well.” A beep was heard as the man hung up and your eyes widened. No…

He wouldn't, right? You had nothing to do with this operation.

Nevertheless, you pushed Dorn out of the way and pulled up your homes’ cameras, and scanned for anything out of the ordinary. You spotted Demi playing with dolls in her room. The only thing was that you couldn’t spot the babysitter, but you figured she must’ve been in the bathroom.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Who’s kid is that?” Armando spoke up. You looked over but didn’t fully turn around, fearing he’d already figured it out, and just wanted clarification. You were afraid. You were afraid that if he found out, he’d come back into your life. Demi’s life. You didn’t want to get hurt again. You don’t think you could handle him leaving you again, so you stayed silent. You left the question to hang in the air.

The breath you let out was sucked back in when you saw your front door open slightly, then all the way and three masked intruders walked in. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, snatching up your phone and dialing the phone number you’d received from the new babysitter before. She answered after one ring, which you were entirely grateful for, “Sara, grab Demi and get the hell out of there, now. Please!” You frantically spew out. You’d be surprised if she caught any of that.

There was no response on the other end until Sara spoke, “There’s people in the house?” She asked, too calm for your liking.

“Yes, so grab Demi and get the fuck out of there. Take the window if you have to, they’re searching the living room right now,” You say, watching the men search the living room and kitchen, slowly making their way down the hallway which they would find your daughter.

Again, no response. That is, until the chilling words made their way into your ears. “Finally, I was wondering when they’d arrive.” And she hung up.

Your eyes were blown wide enough to where you were sure you were going to start hearing colors and seeing sounds. You were speechless and your heart was racing a mile a minute as you watched the ‘babysitter’ pick your daughter up and… deliver her to the intruders.

You could only watch, helpless as your daughter was kidnapped.

What the hell just happened?

[massiveharmonytiger]

So I think Gabe's portrayal was really intelligently done in the show and I'm pretty dismayed at the negative reactions. I'd argue that TV needs more portrayals of abusers that seem harmless and victims that make efforts to advocate for their own agency because that is what abuse often looks like in the real world. Yes, sometimes abuse is as in your face as with Gabe's introduction in the book version (which the show was still pretty true to, I'll discuss that below) and the other portrayals we've seen on TV, abusers being explicitly threatening or violent, victims cowering and showing visible distress, all that usual, tropey stuff. However, I think more education is needed on all the ways abuse is subtle, because this misunderstanding and this view of abuse as this black and white thing is often the reason so few victims get help, so many abusers get away with it and so many of the people around the victim and abuser, at best, are surprised when the find out what's really been happening, and at worst, defend the abuser because they're so harmless, nice, upstanding, pick your adjective and there's no way they're capable of that.

Source: https://www.domesticshelters.org/articles/identifying-abuse/the-silent-ways-abusers-control

I feel like a lot of the fandom has already fallen into this trap somewhat. Gabe from the TV show is too nonthreatening, bumbling, pathetic, silly, idiotic, nowhere near scary enough to warrant getting petrified by Medusa's head. He doesn't look like an ABUSER. And yet we're confronted with so many markers of abuse in that scene.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet he's verbally abusive to outsiders. The guy that leaves as Percy is arriving has experienced an interaction with Gabe that warrants Percy apologizing for Gabe's actions only for him to apologize back because he gets to leave, Percy doesn't. He's concerned. Sure, Gabe is fat shaming and yelling about eating fruit at the moment. The absurdity of the topic doesn't make it any less inappropriate or abusive btw, because its about the abuser having any excuse to display their dominance and power over you even if the subject matter is batshit. Ever see cases where one person in the relationship (usually a man) will police the other's clothing (usually a woman) because it's too revealing, too tacky, too whatever. That's abuse.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet he's verbally abusive towards Percy. He sarcastically greets him with the cruel nickname "genius" and immediately picks a fight with him. Percy refuses to engage because he knows, from experience, what being goaded looks like. Wrap your head around that. Kids older than him are out there having catfights and making stupid "your mom" jokes, but this infant has so much experience facing conflict, he already knows what steps to take to steer away from that kind of drama and stay in safe territory. He only engages a bit when he hears about Gabe answering Sally's phone. Anyone who's answered a friend or partner's phone before will probably consider Percy's anger and indignation a little bratty and unwarranted. The issue here is that Gabe is someone who ignores boundaries. The issue isn't that he answered Sally's phone, the issue is that he very likely did it without permission. Based on Percy and Sally's reactions (Percy is angry, Sally is resigned), he's someone who's regularly done stuff like look through Sally's phone or purse without her permission. Percy makes it clear that this is not okay, and he gets dismissed. Gabe just answers "whatever's ringin'" and Percy is made to look like the one overreacting. This is what abusers do. They're never in the wrong. And then, the cherry on top of the blue icing, he blames the victim. "What're we doing Percy, every time." Gabe's the one who picked the fight, but by the end of it, Percy's the one being blamed. This is so commonplace and anyone who's been through this knows how maddening it can be. This is such a short interaction but they pack so much into it.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet we find Sally sitting outside in the rain on the balcony, as if she's trying to ground herself after a traumatic experience. As if she's trying to bring herself into the present and not dissociate because when Percy arrives she needs to be there for him. She can deal with the Gabe stuff AFTER Percy is safe. I'll get more into Sally's interaction with Gabe in Part 2 because a lot of people were confused by the fact that she was so firm with him. There's an explanation, I promise.

A lot of people also expressed concern that we wouldn't see Gabe's truly monstrous side before he gets petrified but from what I can see, the shows been making great use of flashbacks and exposition, so I'm pretty sure this will be addressed. Percy and Sally are the heroes. It would be counterintuitive for the show to establish that and then not give them a blatant cause for turning Gabe into stone.

[ddejavvu]

Okay! Please take your time writing this I understand if it doesn’t make sense! 🫶🏾!!

So I love over caring reader she’s adorable! And I was wondering if you could do something like she’s not an agents and she’s just Aaron’s cute little girlfriend!

And Aaron Comes over to check on her every night when he gets off of work at the same time. It’s pretty late and a very common time for violent crimes to happen! And since Aaron comes to see her at the exact same time she just figured. “I’m just gonna leave the door unlocked for him!” Not knowing how much danger that could put her in.

So when Aaron knocks on the door expecting her to come over and open it like she usually does. It’s rubs him the wrong way when you yell “It’s open Aaron!” And how does he an fbi agent who deals with Incidents like this all the time when people just leave the door open and then boom dead react to this?

Love you and your writing!!

~sincerely silk 🤍🫶🏾✨

Aaron feels bad knocking on your door past midnight, but he'd given his spare key to your place to Jessica while he was away on business, and he hasn't seen her since he landed. He'd gone straight to your apartment after hearing that Jack was already asleep, safely tucked away in Jess's spare room, and now he stands outside your door with his go-bag and a box of pizza he's planning on sharing with you.

He loves his son more than anything, but he'll let the boy stay with his aunt for one more night if it means he gets you to himself.

He knocks lightly, used to pounding on the door much harsher to speak to barricaded unsubs. You hear him even if he's not breaking it down, and Aaron feels his stomach drop clear to his feet when you call back with a muffled shout, "It's open!"

It's open.

Your door is unlocked.

Your voice sounds like it's coming from your bedroom, down the hallway and out of view of the entryway. You'd been in your bed for god knows how long past midnight with your door unlocked, and you hadn't even verified his identity before announcing that you were completely vulnerable.

All of a sudden the heated weight of the pizza box in his hands makes his stomach turn. He opens the door, hating how little resistance he's met with, and deposits his things weakly on the couch. He places the pizza on the coffee table and makes a point to lock both of the latches on your door, even going as far as to jiggle the handle once it's closed to make sure it doesn't budge.

It doesn't, but maybe he'll check one more time before sleeping, just in case.

He starts down the hallway and each step he takes feels leaden. Your hallway is dark, and your door is mostly shut- god, you'd have no idea that someone was in your apartment until it was too late.

When he pushes open the door to your bedroom you're waiting for him with an eager grin, but at the grave, stony frown on his face, you slump slightly.

"Aaron," You hum cautiously, "Are you alright? Tough case?"

"You left the door open." He states, his voice purposefully controlled.

You nod slowly, "Yeah, you don't have your key, do you? Jess said she's still got it at her place."

"You can't leave the door open." Aaron forgoes any acknowledgement of your reasoning, stomach still churning uncomfortably.

"It was just for a little bit," You insist, "Only when I saw you were coming here from the airport."

"You can't leave the door open." Aaron repeats, sounding like a broken record. Over and over and over again he sees flashes of darkness and shadow in his mind, a grey mask, a haunting pair of eyes, a dead woman on the ground.

It's something he's seen before, something he's all-too-familiar with, and he thinks his nausea might overtake him if he doesn't shut his brain down first.

"I'm okay." You seem to settle into the realization that you're not getting out of this one, and you stand from the bed to approach him, "I'm sorry, Aaron. I didn't think about it. You're right, I- I shouldn't have left the door open. I won't anymore. I'll keep it locked, I promise."

"You can't-" He tries again, but his voice quavers slightly, and you rush to take his hands.

"I won't." You promise, kissing the backs of his large hands while you squeeze them in your own smaller ones, "I won't, Aaron. I promise. I'll lock it. I'm okay, I'll lock it."

He steadies himself while you hold his hands, letting you squeeze life back into him where it had threatened to leave him to rot in his own trauma. When he feels like taking a break won't kill him, he drags oxygen into his lungs, blinking away a tear in his left eye, "There's pizza on the counter."

You smile sadly, nodding and using your intertwined hands to pull him towards the kitchen. You sit him at the counter and serve him two slices on a paper plate, and he watches wearily as you flick the lights on in the entryway and survey the locks.

"I locked them." He tells you, pizza still on its plate and not anywhere near his mouth. He's not sure he's hungry quite yet, but the heat radiating off of the slices is nice on his hands.

"Thank you, Aaron. And I will, too," You promise, jiggling the door handle just as he had done, and nodding to yourself when it doesn't budge.

"Please do." He begs, trying to make it sound much stronger than it is.

"Eat your pizza," You pad back into the kitchen, sitting beside him at the next stool over. You rub a hand over his tense back as he sits, and he lets himself relax into the feeling of your touch, your warmth, your life.

When he finally raises a slice to his mouth you lean forwards to bite off the edge of the crust. You give him a guilty smile as you chew, but he can't stop a grin of his own from growing around his mouthful of cheesy bread. He thinks he might let you devour the whole pie if you wanted to; anything so long as you're alive.

[sleepyangelkami]

SICKENED d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - when you don't show up to your lunch date with daryl, he suspects somethings wrong and makes his way across the commonwealth, only to find you sprawled out in your bed, temperature high.

 ☆ WARNINGS - fever, mentions of being sick, emetophobia, vomit, throwing up, daryl is mentioned to be quite a big older than reader, reader is mentioned to have hair, mention of anxiety, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

daryl dixon was something of a fearless warrior, and also a fearful worrier.

you liked the commonwealth, as much as one could when filled with the doubtful thoughts that whoever was in charge, would soon betray your people. when you got to the commonwealth, daryl was the one who seemed most worried. you were worried too, until you tasted the cotton candy they had to offer and you were sure this was a good place.

daryl became a trooper while you worked at the bakery, alongside your good friend carol. carol was possibly one of the best workers in there. you liked to think that your baked treats were nice but nothing could ever compare to carol’s sugar cookies. 

with you and carol being so close, she knew you and daryl had been itching to spend more time together. while you could enjoy the commonwealth as much as your ability would allow you to, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed daryl. it seemed as though he was always working, always picking up shifts or being given them by the governors son. 

for some reason, he threw tasks at him like he had something to prove.

nonetheless, daryl worked tirelessly and endlessly until finally, he got a day off.

the kids would be in school until three, so you both decided that it was finally time for you guys to spend some time together, just the two of you.

you’d walked into the bakery two days early, grinning from ear to ear though carol was already changing your shifts, putting her on yours so you’d get the day off. when you’d stared at her with an open mouth, she’d only winked. “daryl told me.” she’d shrugged.

everything had fallen into place smoothly.

daryl was old enough, much older than you, he’d been on plenty dates before and he’d been with you for what felt like forever.

yet he still couldn’t stop the nerves from swarming in his stomach.

he’d arrived to the caffé early, at least he thought he was early seeing as you were nowhere to be seen.

then a couple moments went by, one of the workers walked himself outside to where he was sitting, asking him if he was ready to order.

daryl suddenly felt worry eat at his stomach, and it was nothing like the nerves from before. there was pre-apocalyptic nerves like taking your girlfriend out on a date and then there was the post-apocalyptic nerves, the sullen worry that something had gone terribly wrong.

he cleared his throat, glancing at the menu in front of him. “‘m waiting for someone.” he gruffed out to which the waiter smiled.

the man had a cloth draped across his arm, looking sufficient as ever. daryl thought he looked stupid. “right. take your time.” 

though it appeared to be you that was taking your time.

daryl worried easily. perhaps it was due to how many people he’s lost. perhaps it was because nowadays, it seemed like you were the only one that truly mattered to him anymore. nonetheless, he barely waited a half hour before slinging back on his sleeveless leather jacket, face screwed up as his boot covered feet found themselves stalking across the town.

he owned a little apartment, one that had rather noisy neighbours. you owned a large, three bedroom house, always inviting daryl and the kids over. truth be told, the kids rathered your house than they did his little apartment.

daryl didn’t know how he ended up standing in front of your house so quickly but he didn’t bother to try recall his events, instead, he brought his fist up to the grey door, knocking down on it harshly.

he received no answer.

worry ate him from the inside.

you were fine, you were fine. you had to be fine.

as fine as you may have been, it didn’t stop him from applying his body weight on the door, shoving it open. he watched as your lock fell broken on the ground, pursing his lips and making a mental note to buy you another.

the common wealth was strange and so was having to worry about money again.

the man found himself walking up your stairs. he called out your name once, then twice. 

he received no answer. 

it wasn’t until he stood in front of your bedroom door, creaking it open when he felt slight relief.

he could make out the strands of your hair that sat atop your baby pink pillow. he walked further into the room, your curtains were still closed. then, he could make out the way your brows had strewn themselves together.

your face looked uncomfortable.

he wasted no time in waking you. “baby, get up.” his large hands were placed on your smaller body, gently rocking your body. it was unlikely for you to be sleeping this late, you were the kind of girl that went to bed early and rose the same. 

you woke with an uncomfortable noise leaving your lips, a type of whimper as you screwed your eyes shut.

“wh’s wrong, hm?” instead of being angry that you missed your date, he instead sat himself on the bed, fingers brushing away the strands of your hair. his brows furrowed when he placed the back of his hand on your forehead, feeling the scorching skin. “you’re burnin’ up.” 

you offered up to response to that. “what time is it?” your voice was scratchy and broken, blinking heavily and slowly as you tried to rise from the bed. 

instead of helping you up, he practically forced your body back down to the bed. “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

your lips turned into a type of pout. “did i miss our date?” you’d been looking forward to it for ages.

“no matter about lunch.” he waved you off, focusing on the more important task at hand. “how long you been feelin’ like this, sweetheart?” the way his tone seemed to rest so gently was enough for your insides to feel almost warm.

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling drowsy as ever. “a day… i think.”

a sigh left his lips. he’d been so preoccupied with his new job that he’d hardly had time for anything anymore. I mean, it was you who was getting judith and rj up in the morning, making sure they were dressed and ready for school. by the time he woke, you’d have them off and made his breakfast. 

“daryl…” his eyes snapped back to you, ridding his thoughts. “i don’t feel so good.” 

and there it was.

the sick-anxiety.

“okay, let’s get you sat up.” he helped you into a seated position beneath the blankets, your brows were scrunched together, eyes weary. 

he knew how anxious you got when it came to being ill, that was why he was thankful you never did. 

“how’s the stomach, huh? not feelin’ good?” you only shook your head at him, eyes beginning to sting. “okay, that’s okay, jus’ relax f’me.” 

your eyes were slightly wide and watery as they followed his movements. he crossed the room, grasping the bin that sat by your door. he glanced inside, taking out the single piece of plastic and placing it on the desk as a later problem. 

now that the bin was empty, he manoeuvred it towards the bed. 

“think you’re gonna be sick?” you looked a little green but shook your head nonetheless. he nodded before peeling the blankets back, sitting his body next to your own. sick and all, all he’d ever want is to be close to you. “why didn’t you tell me? could’a helped.” 

you shrugged your shoulders, placing your head against his strong arm. “i missed the date.” you spoke all pouty. 

he couldn’t help the way his lips quirked up. even in your own sickness, all you worried about was that damned date. “‘s just lunch, darlin’.” placing your hair behind your ear. “can get it any day.” 

in attempts to not look too bummed out, you glanced down to his hand which he’d interlinked with yours. “not with your job.” 

he caught on to the sadness etched in your voice right away. he cleared his throat. “‘s just for a little longer, promise.” 

it took a couple moments for your breathing to become slightly shallow. his eyes traced over you gently, waiting for any sudden movements. even though your mouth hadn’t so much as opened, his hand was still inching towards the bin that sat at the edge of the bed. “daryl.” your voice sounded much more broken than before. “‘m gonna…”

he didn’t need to be told twice.

skillfully, the man grabbed the bucket before your sentence could even finish. he placed it on the bed before you, helping your head hover over it as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the bin. he heard you half cry while throwing up, and he shushed you quietly.

“‘s okay, you’re okay.” while you held the bin, he used one hand to gather your hair, keeping it away from the sick bucket while the other hand rubbed gently up and down your back. “doin’ so good.” you could barely hear him now. his words were muffled and fell against deaf ears as you focused everything on finishing.

he waited until your head rose from the bin before taking it from your grasp, shushing you and helping you towards the bathroom.

sooner or later, he ended up flushing the contents down the toilet, using pieces of kitchen paper and antibacterial spray to wash the bin out while you brushed your teeth.

he’d been praising you the entire way while you stayed silent, sniffling.

it was no secret that the anxiety was eating you from the inside out. he knew this was the hardest part, though. the first time is always the worst but hopefully it was only a bug and it would subside in a couple hours. 

once you finished with your teeth, placing the toothbrush against the counter, you turned back to the man. he simply gave you a look of sympathy. “c’mere.” 

and you didn’t have to be told twice.

you kept your head hidden in his arms, letting the fat tears fall against your cheeks. you felt so stupid for crying, it only made you cry more. and that caused daryl to shush you. “It’s okay, it’s all over, baby.” though it mightn’t have been, he still chose to keep the positivity. he didn’t judge you for the way you cried like a downright baby, instead, his hands moved to gently caress you, lips pressing kisses against the crown of your head and sweet nothings falling from his lips. “did so good, my brave girl.” and hearing his words did help, it lulled you in a way that beat the anxiety that crawled up your throat.

he waited until you’d calmed down a little before tucking you back into bed.

it didn’t take long for sleep to succumb over you then. he sat with you for many moments after that, gently playing with the loose strands of your hair and not the ones that were stuck to your face.

with the fever that you had, he assumed a headache would only follow.

deciding to be careful enough not to wake you, he crawled out of the bed to grab you some aspirin, knowing you’d need it by the time you woke.

and he was right.

as soon as your eyes had peeled themselves open, you were whining. he couldn’t help but smile at you, such a whiner. but it was okay, because you had him to shush you and coo at you, telling you everything would be alright. 

after your relentless whines, he reached over to the television, grasping the remote and switching it on. “what’re we watching?” you asked, yawning to yourself. today had been a long day, and you hadn’t even made it out of bed.

daryl was thankful that carol was taking the kids after school and keeping them for the night. while it was supposed to be for other reasons, he was still glad that he could spend the time with you, even if you were sweating like a pig. “what do you wanna watch?” 

“you pick.” nuzzling into him even further. 

it was as if his touch could heal all. he still found himself chuckling. “you’re letting me pick? maybe i like sick y/n even more than the better one.”

you tried not to frown. “don’t be mean.”

daryl only laughed to himself, gently pressing a kiss against the frown of your head. “‘m sorry.” now you found yourself rolling your eyes. “your forehead’s still hot.” he commented, lips pressed into a thin line. “we gotta do somethin’ to bring down that temperature.”

you furrowed your brows, looking up at him with doey eyes. “how?” 

he ripped the blankets from your body.

“hey!”

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

[hoshinasblade]

Professor!Hoshina thoughts.

Like I instinctually think he’d be an English teacher who does higher level courses specializing in Japanese literature and poetry. The kind where the class size is like 20 people or less.

On the other hand, I can also see him teaching gen ed literature for entering freshmen and just being a super chill guy. He’d be all “I get that the majority of you don’t want to be here, but you gotta so let’s get through this together.”

Regardless of type of course, I think Hoshina would know exactly how to motivate (oo la la~ lol) his students. He understands people have lives outside of his classroom. He’s attentive during one-on-one conferences, and has great office hours. General student consensus is that he’s strict, but fair.

Also glasses. Like reading glasses. He doesn’t wear them while teaching, but he does in his office for grading and doing computer work. Idk if this is what you’re looking for l, but yeah

if i could make out with this ask, i would have 🥹 this is a bit long so buckle up.

quick trivia that i am an english major; that's why i mentioned in my post before that i am biased on making vice-captain hoshina an english professor if i am going to write a fic where he is a teacher. it just fits his character, i would agree. it's also canon that he reads poetry so there's that too. personally i agree that he would be someone who teaches something esoteric as this parallels his role in the manga/anime. might be slightly off-tangent but this assumption of mine relates to how hoshina is portrayed as someone who is stubborn and proud. it was clear in the beginning that his own father thought that use of blades is already obsolete, but what did hoshina do? he persevered, earning a spot beside the highest ranking official in the third division. i would say something similar would happen when hoshina decided to go down his own path of being a professor - he comes from a well-off clan, i suppose he can choose any other profession if he wants to, but he stands by his decision to be a part of the academe anyway.

now off to the good stuff. NSFW AFTER THE CUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

hoshina is strict within the four corners of the classroom because he values his principles and his reputation. he can be friends with a few of his students outside school but during class hours, he carries himself as serious and businesslike. which is why i arrived at two scenarios if we are going to discuss anything nsfw involving professor!hoshina:

professor!hoshina x student!reader has a very slim chance of happening but you will be able to make it happen because hoshina sees himself at you. of course you being hot and attractive also helps out your case, but what takes the cake is that you aren't scared to speak your thoughts and fight for them. i can imagine a classroom setup, a heated argument about a required reading, and you find yourself on the opposite side of the discussion from hoshina. usually a student would be afraid to disagree with a professor's opinion, but not you and that gets his attention. having learned that you are in his class not because you ran out of elective program to enrol to but because you actually like the specialised course, i see hoshina getting impressed at how much you respect his field of expertise. the thing is i don't believe he would proactively initiate a sexual relationship with one of his students, but one after-class consultation leads to another, and the farthest he is willing to go with you is... sexting. he is already gambling with his life here, but he thinks this is the safest the both of you can go where losses will not be much. you don't send him nudes right away because you know him better than that - the pictures you send him are just enough to provoke something inside him: a shot of you wearing a black lace bra that barely covered your nipples, or a skimpy skirt that showcases your ass. his response would be him telling you in explicit detail what he would like to do to you once you are not his student anymore. when you got your clearance to graduate, he celebrated by asking you to sit on his desk, commanding you to show him your pussy and finger yourself for him as he jerks off his cock in front of you, watching. he will most definitely fuck you on top of the desk after, and to hell with the papers and documents atop his table, he won't stop his thrusts until he gets to cum inside you for the first time.

professor!hoshina x colleague!reader where hoshina is rightfully hesitant on starting anything at all because he thinks workplace affairs are tacky and impractical. but you make him laugh, and you are not bad at your job too (he's interested at the fact your students are fond of you despite the fact that your program has such a high rate of failing students). he commiserates with you on the struggle of being an effective class facilitator and he is surprised at how you and him have so much in common - you are both into poetry but hates superficial verbiage, you and him believe that a professor's role is not only to teach, but to make sure that students are learning - sometimes those two can be different things - and that although you prefer less sugar, you and hoshina are into coffee. when the literature department spent a friday night drinking at the local bar, you were stuck in the streets during the late hour, and hoshina being a gentleman, offered to take you home. which he did - take you home, just with the worst intentions. maybe it's the alcohol that made him cockier than usual, or maybe it was him catching a glimpse of you undressing so you can change into a more comfortable blouse, but he took the leap of kissing you first, shoving his tongue in your throat, his palm roaming on your chest. let's just say that you were lucky it was the weekend the morning after, because it would have been embarrassing to be walking funny in campus.

... i feel like i yapped too much, so im gonna stop now lol. if you have more thoughts, my inbox is always open. :)

EDIT: just an addition because i think i missed the last part of your ask - YES, GLASSES ON PROFESSOR!HOSHINA. i already came up with a scene where you took his eyeglasses off because you already wanna eat his face and he's like "you know i can't see you that well without my glasses right", and your response will be "that's fine, i can take the lead". my brain is melting with all the ideas, someone help me 😩😩😩

[brave-and-gentle]

The Patient

MDNI!!!!

Summary: As a dental hygienist for six years, nothing throws off Jean Kirstein. Until he meets you, his newest patient.

Pairings: afab reader x Jean

Warnings: lots of teasing, SMUT, oral of course because it's dentistry

Word count: ~8,000 (I uh, got carried away with this one)

Author's note: To my sister wife, @babypaloma, plz enjoy this time with our husband!! Also you should all know this is my first time writing true smut, plz be nice to me.

As a dental hygienist for six years, nothing throws off Jean Kirstein. He works at a small clinic in western Mitras, mostly patients under the age of 50 who live and work in the city. Though it's fairly relaxed, Jean has seen it all – one time, a seed stuck in a patient's retainer grew into a sprout. He's also seen rotting flesh inside a patient's mouth. Thankfully, those are rare cases.

But Jean is never phased by the unhinged things he's witnessed in people's mouths. He got into the profession simply because he likes helping people – he spends more time with the patients than the actual dentist. And he finds the science fascinating.

Jean has never been phased until he sees you.

You're flustered when you burst through the doors of the clinic. He notes how flushed pink your cheeks are and how wild your hair is from the wind. Outside, a fall storm rages. Bright orange, red and yellow leaves swirl around and slap the rain-soaked window. Though it's mid-morning, the storm has darkened the skies.

Jean hovers behind Sasha, the office manager, to see who his next patient is. Sasha opens the schedule on the computer and the cursor hovers over a woman's name. It's someone he doesn't recognize, and Jean remembers all his patients – so you must be new.

Sasha calls your name and Jean's eyes lock with yours as you dart up to the desk and apologize for being late.

“I didn't expect the storm today,” you say and peel off your soaking wet jacket.

Something unfamiliar jolts through Jean's body head to toe as you reveal a form-fitting shirt underneath your jacket. It's not inherently sexual, not at all, but with the way the rain drips off the ends of your hair onto your shirt – warmth courses through Jean's body and he's not quite sure why.

Your name rolls off Jean's tongue with ease. He's frozen as you lock eyes with him.

“I'm ready for you,” he says with a warm smile.

“Great.” You return his smile with bright eyes.

A shiver runs down Jean's spine. Before he loses his composure, he turns on his heel and leads you down to the exam room.

“After you,” he gestures and can't help but sneak a peak at your ass.

Keep it professional, Jean reminds himself. This certainly isn't the first time he's had an attractive patient. But something about you feels different.

He's about to run through all the routine questions for a new patient, but he notices most of your chart is already filled out – your name, number, address, etc.

“Are you a new patient?” Jean asks, perplexed.

“Ah, yes and no,” you explain. “I went to a clinic under the same system in eastern Mitras, but I just moved, so now I'm here.”

“Gotcha, same system, different clinic.” Jean notes that your emergency contact is a woman's name – Pieck Finger. Either you don't have a serious significant other – or you're not interested in men at all. There's no relationship listed, but he can add one.

“And what's Pieck's relationship to you?” Jean clears his throat.“Friend, roommate, partner?”

“Oh – friend and roommate,” you answer from the exam chair. Jean nods and adds that note into your chart. Of course, it's still a possibility that you're dating someone, but he's not exactly sure how to ask. Or if he should. No, Jean knows he shouldn't. It's not professional. Dr. Levi Ackerman would throttle him.

“And what brought you to the western side?” He asks and pulls up your dental records.

“Pieck and I just wanted to explore a different part of the city,” you answer and shrug.

“Yeah? How you like it here so far?” Jean mindlessly scrolls through your records. He's skimming them, stalling for time to chat with you, to learn more about you beyond what's in your chart.

“Love it,” you emphasize. “The eastern side was a bit too corporate for me. I like all the small shops around here.”

Jean swivels in his chair to turn to you. “So you don't miss the east side at all? Nothing tying you there?” This is about as close as he can get to asking you if you have a boyfriend without making it inappropriate.

“Nope.” You make direct eye contact with Jean. The mischievous glimmer in your eyes sends ripples up and down his body. “That's the great part about moving to a new place. I'm open and available for anything.” Heat rises to Jean's face. He didn't expect you to answer so confidently. He puts on his face mask on to cover up his blushing face. Well, that answers that, he thinks.

“Oh by the way,” Jean says as he realizes there was something in your chart worth noting. He turns back to the computer screen to double check. “Just a heads up that next time you come in, we'll have to do updated x-rays.”

“Ugh.”

Jean chuckles. “Sensitive gag reflex?” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes the implications of what he asked. He didn't mean it like that though. Plenty of patients struggle with sensitive gag reflex, so it's not something he's thought of as inherently sexual. But with you on his exam chair? It's a totally different connotation.

“Oh, very,” you drawl. Jean's eyes practically pop out of his skull. He's relieved that he's looking at the computer screen and not you. Not while he's wondering exactly how sensitive your gag reflex is, especially if -

No, no, NO, Jean reprimands himself. He clears his throat again.

“Alright then.” He's not sure how to segue out of that. He pulls on a new pair of gloves and gets to work.

It's no exaggeration for Jean to say you have the prettiest mouth he's ever seen. He's glad that he has several years of dental cleaning experience and can turn his brain on autopilot. If he were less experienced, he might get distracted. Since you're unable to talk, Jean loses himself in his work, moving from one tooth to the next to remove plaque. There's not much too of it – he can tell you keep up with your regular cleanings.

After a couple minutes, Jean wipes the scaler off and returns to your mouth, which you've closed. Obedient, you open your mouth as Jean moves closer to you – and you lick a gloved finger tip. He freezes.

Did that really just happen?

No, that had to be an accident.

But you're making direct eye contact with him again, as if presenting a challenge.

Jean clears his throat, again, and tries to ignore the faint pulsing in between his legs.

Get your shit together, Kirstein, he berates himself.

He continues his work, but Jean's finger tip is still warm where you licked him. After a few more minutes, he's finished with the plaque removal.

“Nice,” he says and switches to the polisher. “I can tell you're pretty good about coming in for appointments.”

“I am a pretty good girl about that,” you answer in a low voice.

Jean gulps.

He turns to you and rolls his chair closer to yours.

“Um – ready?” He holds the polisher in one hand.

“Ready.” You lick your lips and open your mouth.

The faint pulsing in between Jean's legs throbs as he imagines what your mouth would look like wrapped around his dick.

His mental filter is destroyed.

Jean is a goner.

He forces himself to focus on polishing your teeth, even though his eyes are pulling him to sneak a peak at your cleavage. What he wouldn't give to rip his gloves off and trace your body while you lie on the exam chair.

Jean is grateful that you can't possibly see the raging boner under his long, white coat.

After he's done polishing your teeth, Jean gives you a swig of water and places the suction in your mouth to finish up. You hold on to the suction as it cleans out the water in your mouth.

Jean's hand trembles as he holds it inside your mouth. You hold onto it for far longer than necessary.

“Mmmm,” you hum and gaze at Jean with lazy eyes.

His heart pounds.

He wants to make you hum like that again.

With his fingers, his tongue, his cock, anything.

“Alright, how we doin'???” Dr. Hange Zoe bursts in to greet you two.

You open your mouth and Jean quickly removes the suction.

“Good,” you both answer at the same time.

“Can I take a look?” Dr. Zoe plops onto the other chair and rolls toward you. Jean tears himself away and busies himself with going over your chart on the computer again. “Any issues, Jean?”

“Nope, she's perfect,” he answers. And he means it. He's not quite sure what it is pulling him toward you – your bold attitude, your confidence, your sparkling eyes, and most obviously, your plush lips. Jean folds his hands in his lap, silently begging Dr. Zoe to stay focused on you and not his still present boner.

“Wow, you've got a great set of teeth!” They exclaim. “No risk of cavities anywhere. I'm not worried about anything. We really don't see mouths like this every day, do we Jean?”

“Um, uh – no, we don't,” Jean stutters. He stares at your phone number in your chart. It would be all too easy to write it down while Dr. Zoe was examining you.

But he couldn't – he shouldn't – cross that line. No, he's not some perv.

“I think we're all good here,” Dr. Zoe says and removes their gloves. “Jean boy, why don't you schedule our fine patient's next appointment?” They run off to see the next patient before waiting for a response. Jean pulls up the schedule and clicks through to the spring.

“It'll be the usual six months out,” he explains. “How's Friday morning again?”

“Sounds like a date. Though I was hoping for sooner than six months.”

Jean's mouth goes dry.

“Yeah, standard procedure, it's too bad. . .” he trails off and sneaks a peak at you behind his shoulder. You're sitting up now and grinning like a devil. “Anyways, I'll walk you out?” Thankfully, his boner has mostly dissipated. Mostly. He folds his hand in front of his crotch just in case. “Any plans for the weekend?”

“I haven't made too many friends on this side of town yet. The weekend might be a good opportunity though. Actually - I'll be at the bar down the street Saturday night.”

“Oh really?” Jean's voice squeaks ever so slightly. He knows exactly what bar you're talking about. After shifts, he and Sasha sometimes stop there and meet up with a few of their other friends.

“Uh huh,” you nod slowly and grab your still damp jacket from the rack. Jean towers over you as you slowly zip it up. “I guess I'll see you in six months – or maybe sooner.” You wink as you dash out the door before Jean has a chance to say goodbye.

Like a zombie, he walks back behind the desk over to Sasha.

“Um, how much time before my next patient?” He asks and leans over to see the schedule on her computer.

Sasha whirls around. “I have a more important question who was that? She sounded like she was begging you to go out with her!” Her amber eyes beg Jean for more information.

“What now?” A deadpan voice forces Jean to stand up pin straight.

“Nothing, sir!” Though Dr. Levi Ackerman was nearly a foot shorter than Jean, he never ceased to scare the shit out of him. Dr. Ackerman gives Jean the side eye. “I heard something about flirting? I swear to god Kirstein-”

“It was nothing sir, I swear!” Jean tries to explain, terrified that his professional behavior is being questioned, or worse, that Dr. Ackerman will reassign you to another dental hygienist.

“Tch.” Dr. Ackerman stalks off, temporarily satisfied.

Relieved, Jean collapses in the chair next to Sasha.

“Your next appointment is in about 15 minutes – Floch, do you remember him?”

Jean wracks his brain. “Ah yeah, serial cavity offender. Can't wait,” he grumbles.

He wishes all his patients looked like you.

~ ~ ~

You and your best friend Pieck cackle on the floor of your living room together. You clutch your stomach, aching from laughter.

“I can't believe I did that,” you gasp out and wipe tears of laughter from your eyes. As soon as you came home from the dentist, you told Pieck everything. You're not usually that bold, but relative anonymity empowered you.

“Way to start out our move with a bang,” Pieck laughs. “Although, not quite,” she gives a wry smile. “What did he look like? Tell me more!”

“Ugh,” you groan and roll onto your stomach. “Sexy as hell. Tall, really tall. Ashy brown hair – kinda shaggy, but it works for him. Hazel eyes. He seemed pretty fit too.”

“Sounds like you got a pretty good look. I still can't believe you did that,” Pieck shakes her head, her dark waves flying all over. “You're going to get banned for sexual harassment!” She teases.

“And I'd do it again,” you giggle and shrug.

You mean it – mostly. It might make for an awkward appointment in the spring, but with the way Jean flushed every time you teased him, you couldn't help but egg him on.

“Do you think he'll actually show up tomorrow night?” Pieck asks more seriously.

“I dunno.” You place your hand on your chin. “But I think it's worth going regardless.”

You and Pieck pick a seat at the bar that gives you two a perfect view of the front doors. You sit on margaritas all night, but the tall dental hygienist you're looking for never shows. You admit you're a little disappointed. With how flustered Jean was, you thought he might return your interest, but perhaps not. Or maybe he was seeing someone else. Guilt sinks into you as you wonder if pushed the poor guy too far. You shake it off and chat with Pieck about all the new places in your neighborhood you want to try.

The next six months pass by in a blur. You start your new job, which is boring, quite honestly, but it pays the bills. You and Pieck make new friends through various activities like a book club, yoga classes, and the community garden. You go on a few dates here and there, but nothing really sticks. They're a fun time, but thoughts about a certain tall dental hygienist come back like a boomerang.

You search the clinic website to try and find Jean's last name, but they only have the doctors listed. You've never been much into dating apps, but you download them all in hopes that you find him. You don't. So he's either taken or not into dating apps.

Admittedly, Jean begins to fade into memory as the days grow colder.

Then when spring hits, you remember.

You're practically skipping as you walk to your dentist appointment. The spring sun warms you from head to toe. You breath in the fresh scent of blooming cherry blossoms. You hope you didn't scare Jean away and that he's still your dental hygienist.

The same woman with long, brown hair and eager amber eyes greets you. Her name tag reads Sasha. You plop down on the white couches and aimlessly scroll through your phone.

A familiar voice calls your name.

You jerk your head up.

Jean stands in front of you with a wry smile on his face. “I'm ready for you.”

“Oh, uh, perfect,” you stutter and stand up. You follow him to the exam room.

He's even taller than you remembered. And more rugged – this time he's sporting a bit of scruff.

“After you,” he says and gestures to the exam chair. You sit down and turn sideways to watch him bring up your chart on the computer. You confirm that you have the same number, address, emergency contact, all the basic information.

“Any regular coffee or soda intake?” Jean asks.

“Occasional coffee,” you answer and swing your legs back forth. You twirl the ends of your hair. “I have an. . . addictive personality.”

“Oh yeah?” Jean turns to meet you with his earthy hazel eyes. He smirks and tilts his head. “What's your flavor?”

“Mostly bitter,” you blurt. “With a splash of milk.”

“Sounds right up my alley,” Jean says, holding eye contact. “Anyways.” He gets up and pulls out a strange looking machine. “We need to do updated x-rays today since your chart says it's been a few years.”

“Great,” you mutter. Last time you had to do these at the other clinic, you practically choked on everything the dental hygienist shoved in your mouth.

“Don't worry, I'll be gentle,” Jean purrs. “I remember you said you had a . . . sensitive gag reflex.”

You gulp as you turn yourself to sit the correct way in the exam chair. It's your turn to be flustered now.

Jean turns to you and holds a long, plastic device with his careful, gloved hands.

“Open up,” he whispers. “Nice and wide.”

You obey. You have no idea what the x-ray equipment is called, all you know is that it looks like some sort of instrument of torture devised for those cursed with small mouths.

“Bite down here,” Jean commands and taps on a red tab. You follow his instructions and fight to keep from gagging as the end of the device pokes the back of your throat. After a few seconds of extreme discomfort, Jean motions for you to open your mouth.

“Good girl,” he praises you as he slowly pulls the contraption out of your mouth. Goosebumps prickle up and down your arms.

Once the x-rays are done, you lie down for the regular cleaning and polishing. Jean runs a glove-covered thumb over your bottom lip as your mouth parts.

“Still looking good,” he murmurs.

You're not sure whether it's good or bad that you can't speak right now. Your soft lips burn under the gentle pressure of Jean's thumb. Your heart pounds with every movement Jean's fingers make in your mouth. It's not the exact actions – they're exactly the same as than any other dentist appointment. It's the sensual intention.

Or is it just your imagination? The urge to experiment rushes through you like a heat wave.

Jean's deft fingers move from tooth to tooth, perfecting them. In the middle of these movements, you find an opportunity to poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. He pauses, hazel eyes widening. There's no hiding what Jean is thinking. The corners of your mouth tilt up, knowing that lewd thoughts about you are pouring into his mind.

He clears his throat and moves your tongue back with his fingers.

“Behave yourself,” he chastises you.

You want to giggle, but your mouth is full of, well – him.

Jean is finished with the cleaning all too soon. Dr. Zoe bursts in with the same gusto you remember from last time.

“How's our best patient doing?” They ask and bounce up and down on the chair next to you.

“Couldn't be better,” you grin and look past their excited demeanor to Jean. His hazel eyes burn with intensity. This time, he doesn't hide in the computer. Your body tingles knowing that he's undressing you with his eyes. His tongue slips out of his mouth and runs along his bottom lip. You have to break eye contact as Dr. Zoe does their own examination, albeit much quicker and less invasive than Jean's. It takes everything you have to refrain from jumping out of the chair and onto Jean.

“No issues,” Dr. Zoe confirms, almost a carbon copy of last fall. “Except watch the spot right behind your front teeth. It's not anything major, I can just tell that you're missing that spot when brushing. Anyways, I gotta do a root canal – see you in the fall!” They say your name and dash off to another less fortunate patient.

“So our perfect patient is not so perfect?” Jean raises an eyebrow at you as the two of you are alone in the room again.

“I guess not,” you sigh. “Seems I'm missing a spot.”

“I can help you with any spots you need help with,” he says, eyes lingering at your breasts. The sensitive spot between your legs begins to throb at that idea.

You cross your legs and smirk. The boldness you felt at that last appointment has returned. “And how might you help me with that?”

“I know a few ways,” Jean begins, “but it might be best for outside the office. Maybe at a certain bar tomorrow night.”

You pause. Tomorrow is Saturday. The same day of the week you suggested Jean meet you six months ago, and he never showed.

“A Saturday appointment? You must be a hard worker.” You tease. “How can I guarantee you'll be there?” You push, refusing to be let down again.

“I think I know a way.” Jean holds up a business card and drops it on the floor. You frown, not quite understanding. He gets up and leaves the room. “I'll walk you out when you're ready,” he calls.

You get up from the exam chair and grab the card off the floor.

Jean Kirstein.

It lists his title as a dental hygienist, the clinic phone number and his work email – nothing personal or interesting, aside from his last name. You flip the card over.

His cell phone number is scrawled on the back. A smile spreads across your face. He must mean it this time.

You pocket the card and flounce out of the room and walk side-by-side with Jean down the hallway. “I just realized we didn't talk about scheduling your next appointment. Same time, same place?” He asks, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You realize just how tall this man is when you have to crane your next up to look at him as you reach the lobby.

“Works for me. The earlier the better.”

Your heart throbs with anticipation – and nerves. You dash out the door without saying goodbye.

“Shut up.” You hear Jean hiss as you leave, no doubt to the woman who was checking patients in for appointments.

You know you won't have to wait another six months to see Jean Kirstein.

~ ~ ~

You tap your fingers repeatedly on the edge of the bar table in a sort of rhythmic trance. It's Saturday evening and you're waiting to see if your dental hygienist shows up – if Jean Kirstein shows up. You remind yourself to refer to his actual name, not his occupation. A dark-haired man sitting nearby you catches your eyes with his bright green ones. Well, if Jean doesn't show up, at least there's something to look at, you think.

Before arriving at the bar, you agonized over what to wear while Pieck sat on your bed and gave nods of approval for outfits you liked. In the end, you chose a springy dress with a black leather jacket. Cute, but a little edgy.

You've already downed one gin and tonic to calm your nerves. Jean seemed to be pretty damn clear that he'd be here this time. And you have his number to text if he doesn't.

You dig your phone out of your purse, wondering if it's been long enough that you should text. You're just about to type out a message when -

“Hey there.” You look up, expecting warm, hazel eyes, but piercing green ones meet you instead. The man who's been trying to catch your attention all evening.

“Hi.” A smile spreads across your face. Though you'd rather see Jean, you can't help but smile an another attractive man – you're only human, after all.

“Eren,” the man introduces himself and offers a warm hand. You shake it, noticing the rough calluses. Eren clearly works out. “I couldn't help but notice you're here alone. Can I buy you drink? My time is free.” He offers a sly grin.

You consider Eren's offer for half a second, but a hand with long fingers claps down on his shoulder.

“Actually, she's here with me.”

An even bigger smile bursts across your face. Any notion of entertaining a night with someone else flees from your mind.

Jean is here.

“Sorry for the confusion,” you apologize to Eren, though you're really not that sorry. “Nice to meet you though,” you call out as he turns away, disgruntled.

“And I'm sorry I'm late,” Jean apologizes to you. “I got a bit uh, preoccupied.” He runs his hand through his ash brown hair. He looks different outside of the dental office. Younger and more nervous. More human. He's wearing dark jeans and an olive green button up, though the last couple buttons remain open, giving you an open view of his throat and a glimpse of his chest – which seems to be as well defined as you imagined.

“No worries,” you reassure him and use your straw to shuffle the ice in your mostly empty glass. “I'm glad you showed up this time.”

Jean places his hands on the chair in front of you and leans over slightly. “Yeesh, I'm not off to a great start, am I?” He asks, another apology written on his face. “I chickened out last time, if I'm being honest. I was nervous about,” he pauses to think, “professional boundaries.”

“I didn't get you in trouble, did I?” You tease.

“Nah,” he waves and laughs, giving you a full view of his teeth. Of course the guy who works at a dental office has perfect teeth. You wonder what they might feel like on your skin. Heat flushes your face. “Anyways – what are you drinking?” He points to your empty glass.

“Gin and tonic.” You raise your glass. Jean takes it and stalks off to the bar.

You shift to cross your legs and can't help but smile as Jean orders drinks for you two. You've never been this bold before, so you certainly didn't imagine the dental appointment encounter would turn in to anything – but here you are. And here is Jean, returning to your table with another gin and tonic for you and one for him.

“I think you had a good idea,” he says, sitting down and placing the drinks on your table. “Spring is the best time for gin.” He takes a sip and holds eye contact with you. You haven't even made physical contact tonight, but those earthy hazel eyes threaten to shatter every part of your being.

You nod in agreement and mirror Jean, taking a sip of your drink. “So, back to the professional boundaries,” you begin. “Leaving your number on the card was clever.”

Jean chuckles. “I was mulling over that one for days. I knew your appointment was coming up and I didn't want to mess it up this time.”

“And you couldn't take my number from my chart?” You smirk and play with your straw with your tongue. Jean is captivated by your swirling tongue.

“Definitely would've been a privacy violation. Dr. Ackerman would've had my ass if he ever found out. But nobody can fault me for dropping a business card that just happened to have my cell number on it.” He shrugs in mock innocence.

“That makes sense,” you nod, taking on a slightly more serious tone as you find yourself wondering more about Jean's life. “Which one is Dr. Ackerman?”

“Small guy with dark hair. Usually looks like someone just shoved something up his ass,” Jean laughs. You recall passing this doctor in the hallway – and his photo on the dental clinic website. “It's a wonder Dr. Zoe saw something in him.”

“Wait.” You tilt your head. “Dr. Zoe and Dr. Ackerman are together?” You're a bit bewildered by this, given Dr. Zoe's erratic nature and Dr. Ackerman's stoicism.

“Yep,” Jean answers and takes a swig of his drink. “Most people wouldn't know by the way they act. But yeah, they met in grad school and started this clinic together.”

“And how'd you end up at the clinic?” You're not usually one to chat about jobs – to you, they're fairly meaningless, but considering it's a major part of how you met Jean, you want to know more.

“Mmm, I always found human biology interesting. I thought it would be fun to specialize in something, so I shadowed Dr. Zoe for a few weeks on summer and they never let me go. They're also a part-time professor at the university I went to, so it was an easy in. They tried to convince me to continue schooling to be a dentist, but I prefer spending time with patients, which you ironically don't get to do as much when you're a doctor. And, to be honest, I didn't want to go to grad school any longer than I had to.”

“Amen to that.” You lift your drink up and you clink your glasses together. You had briefly considered grad school, but the though of dropping another few thousand dollars didn't sit right with you.

You ask Jean a few more questions and learn that he lives with two of his best friends from college, Connie Springer and Marco Bodt. Jean is an only child and frequently visits his parents in Trost. He played basketball and ran track when he was in high school, but gave up sports in college in favor of his studies – and an art club.

“An art club? For real?” You ask.

Jean chuckles. “You'd think science and art don't mix well, but I think they go hand-in-hand. I think there's something beautiful about human biology, so I used that for inspiration for a lot of my sketches.” He pauses and stares at you with a wistful gaze. “Anyways. What about you? What more should I know about you besides your perfect mouth?” Jean gives you a crooked smirk.

It's like a live wire flashes through you. It's strange, this combination of genuinely getting to know you – and suggestive flirting. This isn't exactly one-night stand behavior. You aren't sure what to expect, but you can't deny the magnetic pull toward Jean's mind and body.

You tell Jean about how you grew up in smaller town in the southern part of the region, but had always craved something bigger. You went to college in Jinae, a step up, but it still wasn't quite what you were looking for.

Jean perks up at this. “Jinae? Really? My roommate Marco grew up there. Any chance you know him?”

You shake your head. “Sorry, doesn't ring a bell. It's a big area.”

“Figured it was worth asking.” Jean places his chin on his hand. “So why didn't you stay in Jinae?”

“I, um,” you bite your bottom lip, wondering why you're about to confess this to a near stranger. And yet, there's a warmth and genuine curiosity about Jean that encourages you to open up. “I didn't have the easiest time making friends.” Jean tilts his head at you, silently asking for further explanation. “I had friends in classes and clubs, sure, but I rarely got an invite to hang out after class or on weekends.” Weekends were the bane of your existence in college. You had often wondered if you should transfer, but weren't willing to fill out the mountain of required paperwork. Your face burns, wondering what Jean thinks of your difficult time in college.

“So how'd you meet Pieck?” Jean picks up on your nerves and deftly moves the conversation forward. “It sounds like you two are pretty close.” Jean slurps down the last of his drink.

You explain that out of sheer boredom on weekends, during your senior year you signed up to volunteer to help maintain one of the campus wildflower gardens. Pieck was there too, and you two have been inseparable ever since. When she asked what your plans were after graduation, if you'd consider moving to the big city with her, and you jumped at the opportunity.

“Pieck is a spit fire,” you laugh and swirl your straw in your once again empty glass. “She keeps me alive.” You're not sure if it's the alcohol or Jean's gaze that warms you from head to toe.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Jean winks. Under the table, his foot nudges yours and moves up and down, tracing the outline of your calf. Your insides shiver. “I'm done if you are,” Jean says as he shakes his glass, the ice chiming like a spring melody. “Want to get out of here and sober up a bit?”

“Definitely.”

~ ~ ~

Jean holds your hand and leads you down a winding stone path that connects to another right by the river. The two of you meander along the river and make idle chat. As a seasoned veteran of western Mitras, Jean gives you a fair amount of suggestions of places that you and Pieck can check out – coffee shops, bookstores, theaters, wine bars, etc.

“Oh, this is the best part,” he interrupts himself and pulls you across a bridge that matches the stone walkway. With his long legs, you have to half jog to keep up with Jean. He stops in the middle and leans back against the stone. You mirror him and take in the view of the city lights. It's like dancing fireflies in the night.

“This view is spectacular,” you breath.

“Yes, it is.”

You look up at Jean, but he's not looking at the city skyline. He's looking right at you. A sharp, spring wind cuts into you like a knife. You shiver and automatically lean in closer to Jean's body heat. You're close enough to smell his cologne – sandalwood?

Jean cups your face with his hand, and leans down to you. Your heart beat thunders as he draws closer and closer. He stops just inches away from your lips. You can see every shade of his earthy hazel eyes. Jean raises an eyebrow – a nonverbal question.

You smile and nod, closing your eyes.

Jean closes the gap.

The first kiss is soft, tentative.

Jean's other hand wanders to the back of your head, twisting his fingers in your hair. His grip is firm, yet gentle.

You place your hands on each of his arms, craving to touch his firm biceps without the jacket in the way.

Jean's tongue flicks to your lips, asking another nonverbal question.

You open your mouth, and his sweet and sour taste floods your senses. Your kisses grow hungrier. You're both desperate for more. Your hands wander up and down Jean's chest, begging to touch more, as are his, as he slips a warm hand under your dress, tracing your thighs while the other hand holds your hip.

Jean breaks away for a half second. “You taste as good as I imagined,” he murmurs and returns to your lips for more. “Better, actually,” he adds in between desperate kisses.

You pull away, head spinning.

You know exactly what you want, and given the look in Jean's eyes, you know what he wants too.

“Pieck is home tonight,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “Your place?”

Jean grimaces. “Marco and Connie have a few friends over.”

“Ah.” You slide your hands off Jean and look at the stone bridge beneath you. So much for ending with a bang – like Pieck said.

“Unless?” Jean raises an eyebrow and a mischievous look takes over his face.

~ ~ ~

“This is insane,” you giggle. Jean holds one of your hands while the other digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to the dental clinic. “Won't someone be able to see that you've used your key fob?”

“Nah,” Jean says and pulls you through the door with him. “Sasha's the only one can see it – and she never does. I could always ask her to erase the history from the security system if I really need.”

The clinic is completely dark, except for a few security lights. The only sounds are your nervous giggles and Jean's breath. “This looks completely different now.”

“You're about to get a whole new perspective,” Jean grins. “C'mon.” He leans down and grabs you by the waist to throw you over his shoulder. You shriek and laugh, both from surprise and that Jean is strong enough to throw you over his shoulder like you're a sack of flour.

Jean walks all the way down the hallway and opens the door to the last exam room. The one you two were in yesterday.

“I'm ready for you,” he whispers and turns the dimmed lights on while still holding on to you with one hand.

Jean lays you down on the exam chair. You take your leather jacket off and lie down on your back.

This is indeed an entirely different perspective.

Jean crawls on top of you and kisses you with intensity, your tongues hungry, searching for more. You run your hands through his ash brown hair that he probably spent hours getting just right. Jean's hand creeps up under your dress again, this time wandering all the way up to your rib cage. His thumb strokes just along your bra line. Jean wiggles his hand under your bra and squeezes your breast. He runs his thumb back and forth over your nipple. You give a small shudder. You only breath when Jean takes a short kissing break to nip at your bottom lip. He's pinned your legs together with his knees, forceful enough to make you shiver, gentle enough to let you know you can stop any time.

But you don't want to stop.

You want more of Jean.

You break away and trace the outline of his face with your finger, his scruff gently scratching back at you.

“There's something I want,” you whisper. You close your mouth and poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, mirroring your actions from a previous appointment. Jean smirks in both surprise and wonder.

“You sure?” He asks as he undoes his belt buckle.

“Mmhmm.”

Jean unzips his pants and they fall to the ground, belt buckle clanging against the hard floor. His boxers fall to his knees.

“Open wide then, pretty baby.”

Jean grips the head piece of the exam chair and surges forward.

Enormous is the only way to describe the most intimate part of his body. Your eyes widen, unsure if he can fit in your mouth. No, there's no way.

But you're sure as hell going to try.

You stroke his dick up and down with tantalizing fingers. Jean groans, begging for more.

You lean forward slightly and lick the precum leaking from his tip. You run your tongue up and down his shaft. Jean twitches and moans louder in response.

“Be a good girl and take me,” he gasps.

You're more than happy to accept Jean's challenge.

You take in as much of Jean's dick as you can, sucking and salivating. Jean's groans turn guttural. His arms on either side of you shake and bulge.

You repeat the motions and use one hand to stroke the very last of him that you can't quite fit in your mouth. The bundle of nerves in between your legs flushes, wondering what Jean will feel like there.

“Hey. . .” Jean trails off in between moans, “I think I'm gonna-”

With Jean's warning, you lurch forward in attempt to swallow as much of him as you can.

Except when his tip nudges the back of your throat, your throat heaves. Your stomach jerks up to your throat. You involuntarily push Jean away and out of your mouth.

You turn your head away, mouth now empty, and cough up the saliva caught in your throat.

“Shit, you okay?” Jean lowers himself to make eye contact with you, his eyes frantic.

“I'm fine,” you sputter and wipe your mouth. His face softens.

“So you do have a sensitive gag reflex?”

“I told you!” You and Jean burst out laughing together at the ridiculous scene – the two of you tangled up together, breathless on a dental exam chair. “So you didn't. . .?”

“Not yet,” Jean winks. “You know, there's something I'd like as well.” He tugs at the hem of your dress. You lift up your arms up for Jean to take your dress off with ease. He tosses it to the ground.

Jean leans in for a few kisses, then trails his lips down your neck, your collarbone, and finally, to your breasts. Goosebumps prickling on your skin follow Jean's lips. He pauses at your breasts and savors them – taking one in his mouth and giving you a little nip.

A soft groan escapes your lips.

Jean looks up at you for a second, smirks and then bites a little harder as he marks your chest. He flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue before continuing his descent.

Jean kisses your stomach all the way down to your hips, where he bites down. You squirm and gasp – a blur between ticklish and pleasure.

He continues his path of kisses, down, down, down. You barely register that Jean slips off your panties. He parts your thighs and places them on top of his shoulders, granting himself a full view of the most intimate part of your body.

“Beautiful,” he whispers before he peppers your inner thighs with kisses. A spark ignites in between your legs. Jean teases your slit with his tongue, running up and down. Your entire body is a single flame, begging for more kindling.

“Jean, please,” you beg as you run your hands through his hair.

“Please what?” He pauses his teasing to grin up at you.

“Please. . .” you trail off and sigh as Jean resumes his teasing. “Play with my clit,” you gasp.

“C'mon now, darlin',” he purrs. “Be a good girl and wait for me.”

Jean parts your lips with his fingers and pushes his tongue inside you and trails up to your clit – but only with feather light pressure.

You whimper, craving more. You squirm and buck your hips, physically begging Jean. He grabs your hips, restraining you. You begin to drip.

He finally obliges.

Jean swirls his tongue around your bundle of nerves.

You release a high-pitched gasp and dig your nails into his arms.

Your body blazes into a roaring fire.

Jean is relentless in his efforts to make you cum, and you're both soon rewarded.

“J – Jean, I – I – I -” you gasp.

You can't get a thought, let alone a sentence, out before you climax.

Your body explodes into a wildfire. Several waves of tension and relaxation roll through you. Jean grips harder onto your hips and digs deeper with his tongue, keeping you going as long as he can.

As the last wave of pleasure collapses over you, you arms spill off the sides of the exam chair. Every muscle, every cell in your body has melted from your wildfire. Sparks ripple through your fingertips and toes.

“Wow,” you breath, unable to string together a coherent thought.

“Ready for more?” Jean grins and places his dick right at your entrance, rubbing up and down your slit, wetting his tip from you.

You jerk up and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Ah, wait, do you have-”

“Got it,” Jean answers and dives down to his pants to grab an unwrapped condom from his pocket.

“You came prepared,” you huff, still unable to return to your normal voice.

“Always am,” he gives you a sly smirk. “Uh, although,” he pauses, giving his statement a second thought. “Not that I always do this. You're the only person I've ever brought here,” he stammers, his earthy hazel eyes widening.

“Good.” You find Jean's back and forth bravado and awkward nerves endearing. You take the half-opened condom from him. You rip it all the way open and hand it back to him.

“I'm patiently waiting for you. Get it, because I'm also your patient?” You chuckle at your own bad joke and lie back down on the table, legs open.

“Yes, I get it,” Jean rolls his eyes and returns your smile as he rolls the condom on. “Are you ready for me?” He whispers, hovering over you, and kisses the shell of your ear.

“Ready.”

He nudges his tip at your entrance. Your lips part and stretch, making way for his length.

“All good?” He whispers. You nod and bite your lower lip in anticipation. “I'll go slow. Let me know if it hurts.”

“Mm'kay,” you breath as he sinks deeper into you. You grimace slightly as your walls adjust to his length. Jean pauses and raises his eyebrows at you. “Keep going,” you command and place your hands on his ass, urging him to melt deeper into you.

Jean obeys, sinking more and more until he's all the way inside you. He pumps slowly, glancing at you every so often to let you control his pace. Jean sighs with every stroke, worshiping your body as his hands wander and praise every inch of you. You release a mewl as his dick reaches your most sensitive spot, making your insides curl with pleasure.

“Right there, hmm?” Jean pumps harder and faster with a new desperation. He lifts your hips at a slight angle, closer to him – Jean can't get enough of you. He dives for your neck, sucking and biting, muffling his rising groans. “Need more,” he growls.

Without warning, he lifts you up off the chair and you curl around him like a koala, as if by second nature. You're slammed against the nearest wall, Jean still holding you by your thighs, and fucks you against the wall. You cling to him and rest your chin on his shoulder. His weight against you forces a breathy moan with every powerful stroke. Jean's dick reaches deep inside you, a spot you didn't even know existed releasing heat throughout your body. You rake your nails up and down his back as he rails into you over and over again.

“Soon,” he pants.

Curious, you lift your chin off Jean's shoulder and find his hazel eyes glazed over, drunk on you. His mouth is parted and a bead of sweat drips down his temple.

You give Jean a crooked smirk, and that pretty smile of yours is what pushes him over the edge.

He releases a moan of purse ecstasy, and chants your name like a prayer. His arms shake, but still hold you firm against the wall. You know he won't drop you until he's completely finished spilling into you.

After several final strokes, Jean carries you back over to the exam chair and collapses back on top of you. He rests his head on your breasts and you rhythmically stroke his ash brown hair.

As you both catch you breath, Jean looks back up at you with a devilish grin.

“So,” he starts and runs his pointer finger along your lips. “When do I get to see that pretty mouth again?”

“Definitely sooner than six months,” you say and nip at his finger.

“Good. I do want to see you again,” Jean confirms. “Outside the office. Very unprofessionally.”

“I think we can arrange another appointment,” you tease. “As long as I'm your star patient.”

“You are certainly the best patient I've ever had.”

[pyro-les]

Rescue - Agathario - part 1 of 3

1,124 words - Warnings: mentions of death

Taglist: @thecavalrywife @hannah-0730

Rio had first found her when she took yet another soul, a young witch taken all too soon. It was sad seeing people with so much potential die so young, the poor girl had only lived till her mid twenties before being brutally killed just outside her own home by a witch hunter. The sight wasn't pretty but it was nothing unusual however what she would never forget was the look on the childs face ehen she walked out to see her morher dead. Seeing the poor souls of the deads family react to their loved ones fate was never easy but with young ones it was so much worse, especially in cases like this where they had no one else.

"Who are you?" The child spoke, breaking Rio out of thoughts.

Looking back down towards the child, timid and scared but not backing away. How could she even see her?

After a pause, not knowing what to do since no one had ever seen her while she collected souls before she decided to honestly introduce herself. "I'm Rio."

The child smiled up at her before looking down at her mum. Her white dress was staring to turn red with blood, it was no sight for a child but atleast the hunter hadn't burnt the body like many would.

"She's not okay is she?"

The kid was clearly smart and surprisingly keeping her emotions somewhat in check. Rio felt bad for the kid, with this kind of response the kid had likely been warned by her mother this could happen and that's a difficult conversation for a kid so young. And she would know, having once having to have told her own child the same thing so so long ago.

"I'm so sorry." Rio replied meaning every word, she may be the embodiment of death but that didn't mean she hadn't felt grief. She knew first hand how horrible it was to loose family, and she atleast had someone to help her through the pain, this child had no one.

She had to help.

"Where will she go?" The child asked, looking up to Rio who had come to stand just in front of her.

There was no point in lying, the child deserved to know the truth. "I'm going to take her to the next realm."

The child nodded, seemingly not questioning why it was Rio who took her. "But where will I go?"

It was a good question. The kid couldn't stay here, witch hunters were ruthless and if they realised earlier there had been a magical child inside the house she would already be dead. "You don't have anyone left for you?" Rio asked hopefully even though she already knew the answer, only being confirmed when the child solemnly shook her head.

"You can come with me." Rio said nervously, she never expected to take anyone else in attempt loosing Nicky but she couldn't leave the kid here. It's going to be hard, for both her and Agatha aswell as the kid who's life was being so suddenly changed but there was no other choice.

The child nodded, probably a bit too trusting but it was good, it made it easier. "Where will we go?"

"Home" Rio replied with a soft smile, kneeling down for the child to climb into her arms.

She held her close as she stood, remembering the last time she held someone like this, remebering the worst experience of her life. The child hugging her back being the only difference, she could hold Rio close while Nicholas couldn't and never would again.

Trying to pull herself out of her thoughts she spoke softly to the girl "It'll be OK, I won't let anyone hurt you."

Rio opened a small portal to just outside her own home. A small cottage in a forest, it wasn't much but the purple flowers outside and the faint feel of the protection spell around it made it feel like home.

Feeling Rio's magic nearby Agatha came to the door to greet her wife, pausing seeing the small girl in her arms as the portal behind her slowly fizzled out.

"Brought in a stray?" Agatha asks, even with the sarcastic wording it was clear she was worried.

Walking closer to her wife Rio hummed, "she had nowhere else to go." Agatha nodded knowing she would explain the rest later.

"Who are you?" The girl asked, finally speaking after just looking around since the change of location.

Agatha looked to Rio for help, not entirely sure on what to say. "My wife." Rio stated, setting the girl down.

Seeing her looking around curiously Agatha spike to her, "you can look around if you want hun."

The girl then looked upto Rio, "But what if he comes back?" So she had seen what she was rather hoping she hadn't. The girl had watched her mother be murdered.

Kneeling down in front of her, Rio took the girls hands in her own. "No one can get you here." "We'll look after you." Agatha added on, putting her hand on the girls shoulder.

Looking between the two of them the girl smiles and whispers a small "thank you" before walking into the house curiously. The fact that the kid was still keeping it together after all she had been through in under an hour was ridiculous. She was certainly tough and judging by the unfamiliar magic in the air she had alot of magical potential too.

Offering a hand to help Rio of the ground Agatha asked, "what happened?"

Keeping hold of Agatha's hand Rio shook her head, emotion clear in her voice, everything she shoved down to be strong for the child now showing. "She was alone. Her mother was gone and she would've been too, couldn't just leave her there. I'm sorry it's just, she, she reminded me so much of him."

Her eyes softening Agatha put her free hand to Rio's cheek, gently brushing her hair out of her face "shh, shh. There's no need to apologise." Stroking her thumb over her cheeks Agatha comforted her wife, "you did the right thing."

"I didn't even ask you-"

Hushing Rio, Agatha spoke again "You didn't have to."

Rio smiled at Agatha, starting at her theough watery eyes, all of the emotions of the day starting to catch up to her. She was so grateful to have Agatha here, she was so understanding, so gentle, Rio truly didn't know what she would do without her.

Stepping closer Agatha finally brought Rio into a soft kiss, her other hand coming up to her face while Rios own instinctively wrap around Agatha's waist.

Slowly breaking the kiss, their foreheads still touching Agatha quietly speaks, "We'll look after her."

[mrslittletall]

I am not done talking about Dawntrail and it comes from a Youtube comment this time. I was listening to the Living Memory theme and someone pointed out "This expansion was full of complicated parental relationships". And holy shit! They are right! It seems to put the whole of Dawntrail in a completely new perspective. It starts with Gulool Ja Ja and his three children. He has one biological child and two adopted children. Wuk Lamat and Koana both love their dad loads and see themselves as siblings despite not being blood related and obviously not being the same race (outside of both of them being cats). But Zoraal Ja... he feels like he has to live up to a legacy. A legacy that nobody ever wanted from him. He got so obsessed with being the "Resilient Son" that he shut his heart out and didn't allow his siblings or his father to get through to him. Maybe we have to blame Gulool Ja Ja here for neglecting his biological son... we don't know much about their relationship because the story is told mostly through Wuk Lamat's eyes, but Zoraal Ja is the tragedy of a child that wanted to live up to the legacy of his dad and... failed. And this Zoraal Ja is having a child of himself. Gulool Ja. A child that he completely ignored and neglected. Probably because he feared that he would give him the same complex that he had. But he still loved his son. Shown by Gulool Ja getting all the authorities of the King after he died... (still want to know who the Mom is. At first I thought Gulool Ja is a clone of Zoraal Ja.) Then we have Bakool Ja Ja. He starts out as a comically evil villain and I still think his redemption arc was too sudden but here we have a case where a child was forced by his parents to be something they didn't want to be. Everryone worshipped Bakool Ja Ja as the blessed siblings while he was carrying around the guilt of the one who lived among hundreds of stillborn siblings. And that brings me to the last and probably messiest relationship. Erenville and Cahcuia. I don't think Cahcuia is not liking Erenville. In fact, I think she loves him very much. But she isn't a good mom to him. And I think part of her knows that. We don't know why she had her son, if he was wanted or an accident, but it was clear that she was not ready to have a child. And she did neglect Erenville because she wanted to live her own adventure. She even send him away. Maybe it was so that he got a new perspective and learned about the world, maybe she was really thinking something, but ultimately, Cahcuia feels pretty childish. It goes so far that Erenville has to learn his mom has died already and she acts like it is all not a big deal while being an endless, a memory of the person she once was. We see Erenville having a TERRIBLE time coping with all of this. And it feels like Cahcuia is not helping. Erenville needs to grief her and she acts like her second death is not a big deal. In the end they had some words for each other. But was it enough? Was it really enough? This relationship is so messy and I guess for some people it really hit close to home, so much that they hate Cahcuia. Because she is the mom who loves her child dearly, but... she has troubles caring for them in a way that the child needs. It just, agh, it makes me feel things. All of these relationships. There are probably more I missed. Feel free to elaborate in comments or reblogs.

[chaifootsteps]

for anon who was frustrated - things have come a long way already, so don't lose heart

Most of Hazbin's reviews were lukewarm and a lot of Internet reviewers said it was a massive disappointment compared to the pilot. Helluva Boss has seen a massive drop in views and there's pretty clear signs that they're struggling to get the support they once did outside of that, given they're doing often subpar quality merch drops after every episode (even shorts!) now.

The Full Moon/Apology Tour releases have really turned off a lot of the audience who are realizing what others have been warning them about for a long time - Stolas is likely never going to be held accountable in a way that makes what a sucky character he is, instead Viv is just going to keep trying to retcon and engage in other bad writing to dig herself out of a hole of her own making in order to push an OTP that even some of its most die hard stans seem increasingly disillusioned with. I'm seeing a lot more discontentment with the show, especially the Stolas shilling, on the once positive Helluva Boss reddit. and once the rest of the episodes come out at the end of the year, if Stolas sees no meaningful consequences at all and is just woobified again then it's going to get harder for fans to keep coping and using the 'it'll get good if you just wait!' excuse

And I don't think people will forget the mess around Poison that easily, especially since the pile of evidence of unprofessional/exploitative behavior from Viv and Spindle is growing. Crediting and bad pay issues are increasingly common to hear about nowadays and the claim that Spindle is 'indie' is starting to ring increasingly voice now its own that outsourcing to Toon City is going on. Not to mention that Viv seems to get into Twitter drama every other month, which isn't helping

Meanwhile, all the pilot cast that everyone loved that she tossed to one side (which there's evidence of) are going on to do bigger and better things in communities that actually care for them. Lackadaisy and TADC are really stealing the indie thunder and they're far better quality made by (in LD's case, can't speak for Glitch) much more ethical and supportive production houses, and Far Fetched is coming along at some point, too

Viv may never flame out the way people might be hoping she will. It might not be a big explosive downfall that gets someone to do a two hour YouTube expose that causes general awareness of the whole mess of stuff around Spindle. But I think there are enough signs that things are going south to trust that she's not going to make anything that's a classic, she's not going to be respected in the industry and she's not going to be able to keep it up forever

People keep comparing her to Butch Hartman but I kinda feel she might end up more like RWBY/Rooster Teeth did. RWBY started out with this real indie underdog spirit and had talented people on the staff (Monty and Shane, one who died tragically young and the other who left the company) but it all got squandered by the other, more amateur writing. They shared Viv's tendency to engage with criticism poorly (in their case, only responding to the bad faith stuff), they too were way too precious about their characters to give them real flaws as well as having Viv's tendency to let self inserts and faves steal the show, plus the amateurish and bad worldbuilding

I don't know if Rooster Teeth ever crunched and underpaid the way Spindle seems to, but since people often seem to put art before their consideration of whether it was made ethically, I think that will ultimately be Viv's downfall. Some of her fanbase are happy to ignore allegations of credit issue, crunch and embarassingly low wages so long as they get their demon show. But if their demon show keeps getting worse and worse (and taking longer and longer to come out), their attention will probably wander elsewhere, which has already started to happen

Combine that with anything that comes out as a result of NDAs expiring and my bet is Spindle will face consequences mostly in the form of more and more fans just quietly turning away from their show and them bleeding money more and more until it's unsustainable to hope to make all four seasons of HB unless the venture becomes wholly outsourced. Same with Hazbin - it might get renewed for more seasons but that doesn't mean those seasons will be good. The love and optimism people had towards Viv's work is just gone now. And if we're being real she's been trying to coast on goodwill from the HH pilot for a long time now

All important things to keep in mind. Thanks for this, Anon.

I think a lot of people are counting on this big, dramatic downfall of Vivziepop and for HH to be cancelled and then none of us have to hear about her ever again -- which isn't impossible, nothing's impossible -- but it's a lot more likely that each round of drama takes something out of her reputation, and eventually down the line she just kind of putters out, replaced by bigger and better shows.

Whether it got 1 season or goes on to have 12, Hazbin's legacy was always pretty safe. Viv's is a lot less certain.

[gammija]

PLEASE tell us more about your vampwolf au

i WILL!

First of all, the main purpose of this au is to have fun imagining vampire!martin and werewolf!jon and secrets/newly discovered abilities. so the details are very vague unless i could come up with something i found interesting

Elias is a centuries-old vampire who runs the Institute partly because he wants to gather and keep knowledge on the supernatural, partly as his personal bloodbank (shamelessly stole this idea from this fic). The supernatural is, just like in tma, not believed in outside of specific circles. Vampires are more or less typical; need to drink human blood every so often, can't go in sunlight, can turn into bats, can make thralls. New vampires are supernaturally bound to the one who made them.

Somewhere in the latter half of the 1900s, Elias turns Martin. Martin half-knew what he was getting into, but he did it to help his mom and he was lonely enough that he didnt particularly care about the consequences. Idk what Elias specifically hoped to get out of it - perhaps his previous lackey died and he just neede someone new to do his dirty work.

After Martin becomes a vampire, it becomes clear that he's quite talented at doing subtle short-term thralls on humans. A useful skill, Elias decides to keep him around for that as well, and sticks him in the basement as the archivist, which isn't a specific role in this au - just an excuse so that Martin doesn't see the sunlight. He's not allowed to snack from the Institute's employees, he's got to source his own blood. Basically Martin's life sucks and the only fun he gets is messing up the organization of the old files that get sent down.

This next part is a lot vaguer but maybe Elias wants to experiment with different combinations of supernatural creatures - there's quite a few that are born out of humans, and what if you could stack the effects somehow! and what if he could control whatever monster results from it by making them his vampire! but the problem is, as soon as someone becomes a vampire, their body stops changing, so no new supernatural abilities can stack. So he needs to keep his experiment bound to him with more normal, capitalist means until they're done cooking. or maybe he has a cursed contract for employees, idk

IN ANY CASE researcher Jon is investigating some odd deaths around the Lukas' estate. Other employees tell him to stay away from that place, it's not worth it, and Elias is like "oh nooo Jon definitely don't do a stake-out at their mansion during the full moon ;)"

Obviously the Lukasses are werewolves (they're lone wolves lol) and when Peter spots one of Elias' guys around his home, he decides to make an example of him. He attacks Jon in his car, drags him out, nearly chomps his leg off, leaves him for dead on the grounds.

Martin is sent by Elias to go and save Jon, and he can't really refuse, so off he goes. He drives a half-conscious Jon back to London and drops him off at the hospital, making sure to mind-control the people he meets into believing that Jon had come there alone. As soon as it seems like Jon won't die, he leaves.

Jon recovers in the hospital, needing to walk with crutches for a while after, but he goes back to work. because now he has a new mystery to chase: who saved him? He had lost a lot of blood by that point and he's not great with faces so he doesn't recognize Martin, but he knows there was someone there, he couldn't have driven himself back, especially with his leg. Despite this obvious truth, somehow all the nurses are convinced he came there by himself? he needs to figure this out. Also, for some reason he keeps having to shave a lot more often and craving rare steaks for dinner, but surely that's nothing.

Meanwhile Elias is happy that he's now got a werewolf who's already tied to the institute, and sticks Jon together with Martin in the basement so his vampire can keep an eye on his wolfy, make sure that Jon doesn't die while he goes poking around at other supernatural creatures as he tries to find out what happened that night, or that he doesn't kill someone and get sent to jail come next full moon. Set-up, done.

After that, I don't have a very strict idea. I think it'd be fun if Leitner (or someone like him) does his thing where he nearly threatens to tell Jon about Elias' plans for him, and Eliase has to kill him - except he lets Martin do it in the classic vampire style, so Jon can walk in on him as he sucks the lifeforce out of Leitner. Extra fun if Jon hadn't put together that Martin is a vampire yet.

Jon flees and goes to Georgie who's like 'oh yeah werewolves are real nbd'. Then, the most tragic part of this au kicks in....

as a werewolf, the Admiral is instinctively scared of Jon 😔

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

yet another post about sex and attraction (and how it manifests in Simon)

(this time with ~quotes~)

I wrote a lot of posts about how attraction and sex is portrayed with Simon in these books (it's an issue, not being able to shut up)... I saved some screenshots here when I was cleaning up my gallery a couple of months ago because, well. They support a lot of things I have been saying.

When Simon calls himself a Baz-sexual, he's not just being goofy! In the context of thinking about having sex, he says "Baz is the only person I've EVER wanted" (let me emphasize the already emphasized ever again, in case it's not clear). Simon is not comfortable thinking about sex (iirc even in his memory, it's memory-Baz who says "sex") (as a side-note, dunno why people see Baz as being shy or scandalized about this shit like... the guy will just simply say the word sex. His issues with pursuing his desires are a different thing.) Simon is not going to elaborate in a super explicit way like "I have never thought 'I want to have sex with this person' about anybody until I figured I wanted to have sex with Baz" He's not comfortable processing his relationship with Agatha either, so it's notable that he would say this in hindsight, because this is already answering a lot while avoiding the things he's the most uncomfortable with (he didn't truly want sex with her – he's just beginning to discover where he even stands on sex right in front of us)

This is Simon expressing himself in the way he's able, in the way he's the most comfortable: by focusing on Baz. And it's not a thing where he has felt attraction before and Baz is different because it's just more intense when you're in love (which is obviously a valid and real experience, it's just not what's going on with good ol' Simon). He's saying "Baz is the only person I've ever wanted"... And that emphasis on ever? very intentional. One could say it's correcting any previous statement in CO where a character or two might be expressing the belief that Simon wants Agatha, the person (as opposed to things attached to her) (Baz we're gonna get you to work through your shit one of these days my beloved) (Simon himself, but he's mistakingly saying "I've always wanted to date her" when the example he goes by to support this point conveys "I want to be like her" among a list of other things.... "I've always wanted Agatha" -> "Baz is the only person I've ever wanted"... see what he's doing? and note how one is thought in the context of Simon projecting things like strength and acceptance into her beauty and the other in the context of having sex)

"Simon doesn't know what attraction feels like, he begins to figure it out right in front of us when he figures he wants Baz," I say. "He has simply not experienced attraction until Baz," I say (and so did the author after CO came out, when the sequels weren't even a thought yet, and she said it again after awtwb came out. I don't need 'word of god' to support what I say because there's a lot to pick up from the books, such as the screenshots you see here, but it's nice to have the extra confirmation. I'm not made of stone, I know I'm not immune to biases and the like, but I'm not just seeing shit here!)"

Also: sex for the sake of sex doesn't cut it for Simon. This is someone who's not only discovering the point of sex... he's discovering the point of being horny (which also sounds like someone who has not experienced pleasure outside of food, which is the one thing Simon associates with that). I mean, he sounds like someone who's just discovering they're even capable of being horny for real (even though he was being horny when he picked up fights with Baz years ago... that was unconscious... he has been horny for Baz for years, but the awareness wasn't there, and he mistakes his feelings for something else like missing Baz=being lonely or bored, horny for Baz=anger or frustration etc). Passion, attraction, horniness, you name it – he's figuring this shit out on the page right in front of us. He's figuring it out now because he hasn't felt it before. This isn't new for Baz, who has masturbated to thoughts of Simon ("I can have this" is what's new for him) but it's completely new for Simon. Being aware of such feelings and trying to work through them is new. And he's wondering "What do I do with this?"...

Simon, horny to the point he's dry-humping Baz in a public space: I don't understand what's happening here. All this also ties into how Simon isn't used to making decisions for himself by himself – he has always had a map (other people telling him what to do/what they expect of him) and he's not used to process his feelings. Processing such intense feelings is already a lot, but then... what's next? What are you supposed to do with feelings so big you feel like you're about to explode? (going off).

This is part of why it's so difficult for Simon. "He's so worked up his magic is leaking"... He can't get worked up without his magic leaking... and you expect me to believe this is someone who could enjoy sex in any way shape or form with the girl who can't tolerate his magic? Let's be serious.

If anything, he would not be able to have sex with someone he's not magically compatible with while actually feeling shit. His magic would stop it before it really got anywhere (so if you're going anywhere, he's not feeling it). Just like Baz says, he goes from 0 to 100: from struggling to have any feelings to feeling so much he could explode. It's part of why it's so difficult with Baz, and why being with Baz pushes him to start figuring things out. He's feeling now.

(This also shows Baz's gentle heart from very early on. Introduced as an essential part of his character, one might say!! Almost like he has always been soft at heart and didn't feel allowed to show it! Like perhaps his environment and being pressured into and confined to a role and expectations that went against his nature made him sad and bitter and act up!)

I think the most important thing here is how special this moment is with Baz – it's so good because he feels like he's building something with Baz there. They're connecting... They also match with "I want the other person so much, but am I allowed to act on these desires? Do I deserve it?" they both feel this way. And allowing themselves to have what they want (the other) is an experience comparable to magic itself.

After appreciating the importance of this moment... we can start looking at the little details. This scene was the starting point of me taking Simon's magic into consideration – that perhaps this is where Simon first experiences a relief that's not destructive. Before that, the only form of release he knew was just going off with his magic. Is this magic? is about how magical that moment is, yes. But also... Is this magic? he thinks while having an orgasm. It could be said that an orgasm is like going off – Simon only knew about going off by releasing his magic, and magic made it so he wouldn't have been able to go off in any other way without that being an actual danger (perhaps like how discovering his true desires would have been a danger to the structure he used to live with then, the traditional expectations and the role he was fulfilling)

Also, how would he even get worked up when he doesn't know what he wants? when he doesn't know what type of touch he even tolerates? When he doesn't think? (and for the record: you can get body parts to react with any touch without actually feeling it, I have posted about that too, look up arousal non-concordance etc). He's just starting to figure out these things when he's with Baz. Before being together, he got worked up with Baz all the time, but he didn't know what it was. He didn't know what any of it was (again, like when he missed Baz terribly but he just thought he was hungry or lonely or bored). Now that he knows he wants him, everything is so... much. It overwhelms him. I mean, consider this... This is very complicated, and it's also the first time Simon is left alone to figure it out by himself, free of expectations – the very thing that caged him also provided instructions of what to do, so it was easier to just act without thinking. There's no map here, no instruction... until Baz starts to guide him.

This is another thing that gets missed a lot: Simon is inexperienced. Doesn't matter that he has had sex before – he's showing you his inexperience with his questions, in the way he knows he wants to touch Baz but has no idea what to actually do. In a way, Baz has experience, even if it's not a lot, because he knows himself. He has experience feeling his desire and doing something about it, even if it's just by himself (masturbation as self-discovery: yet another reason Simon would not have been able to do it). It's why Baz guides, and why Simon finally feels like they have it figured out once Baz "starts driving." Baz telling him what he wants (which is also a good grounding technique to avoid dissociation) or figuring out what he wants provides Simon with the mission, the map, the guidance he craves. Only this time, it goes hand in hand with figuring out his own wants.

(I'm probably forgetting something I wanted to say here. Anyway, let me highlight how obsessed Simon is with Baz... Simon "I know his face better than my own" Snow, who has every microexpression Baz makes carefully cataloged in his head, doesn't know what Baz's face looks like when he feels pleasure, and he needs to change that expeditiously. He said the lights must be ON during sex with Baz.) (I probably going to post this little parenthesis again. I know very few people read these long ass posts until the end and I need the people to think about this)

[humunanunga]

Plurality, endogenesis and sysmedicalism.

Yeah no, I'm not done yet. Please bear with me for a word of caution.

So before making this post in reaction to seeing tulpa "systems" DNI, endo/endo-supporters DNI and non-traumagenic systems/supporters DNI across three fandom tags so far, I asked the systems I know if this was as Transmed But For Systems as it looked to an outsider. That was when I learned endo-exclusionists are called sysmeds.

Now, if you've been on Tumblr in the 2020s, you likely already know what plurality is. If you don't, it refers to an internal experience of living as multiple people who may take turns fronting– and together with whomever would be designated the "host," they are called a system. It used to be widely called split personality or multiple personality disorder, but as it stands currently, I don't think psychiatry yet recognizes a distinction between headmates, such as in plurality, and alters, such as in dissociative identity disorder (DID). The two can coexist, but not everyone with DID is plural, and not every plural has DID.

Which brings us to traumagenesis and endogenesis. Traumagenic systems or headmates, as the term suggests, have been caused by traumatic events, either acute or chronic, as is commonly the case with DID. Endogenesis, on the other hand, is a broad term for other causes. Tulpamancy, the deliberate formation of a headmate, is one example, but traumagenic systems can include endogenic headmates and vice-versa, and endogenic systems or headmates may also be caused by, for just one example, the same neurological processes that cause delusions or hallucinations. Which is to say, they're not making it up or following a trend, but the causes for endogenic plurality are more varied, and thus may simply not yet be as well-researched or as widely understood as another common cause.

So, how do you know whether someone's system is endogenic or traumagenic? Well, what if the systems themselves don't know if they're endo? What if a system who identifies as endo doesn't know they're traumagenic? How far would you be willing to invade someone's privacy to try to tell apart an endogenic system from a traumagenic system?

Before I continue, I myself am not plural, not to my knowledge. What I am is close to multiple plurals, both locally and across group chats. So I consulted them for this post:

And now that we've hopefully cleared up some misconceptions, some presumptions maybe, I'll get to the point.

I have been on Tumblr since early 2012, late 2011. Years before I knew I was trans, I was here through the prevalence of transmedicalism, and the damage exclusionism did, keeping far more trans people in the closet than were protected from radfems, by repeating the same excuses transphobic doctors give to deny resources.

Bigots don't mistreat plurals for why you're plural, they mistreat you for being plural. Whether you've been mistreated for your plurality is not the fault of other plurals.

People of Tumblr, do not do that shit again with sysmedicalism. Do not reenact 2010s Tumblr. You would not be protecting anyone if you did this, you would be acting as someone else other plurals need protection from.

[animeyanderelover]

@lucyrose9820 asked: Tsugikuni Yoriichi Hc's?

Tags: @leveyani @kanaosprotector

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, overprotective behavior, stalking, controlling behavior, threats, intimidation, death, abduction

Yandere Tsugikuni Yoriichi Hc's

☀️​Yoriichi is a man who has already lost his first wife and their unborn child yet none of his sorrow is expressed from the outside. His nonchalant and solemn exterior rarely gives anything away from his current emotions so you never seem to notice how he is truly feeling for you. Nor does Yoriichi want you to notice as he is lucid of the extent of his feelings for you. He hides them and locks them away as he considers how you might get scared of him if you would know about it. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, his own selfishness doesn't want you to stray away from his side because of his feelings. Silent and serene, maroon eyes are almost constantly following you as soon as you are in his field of vision as they observe your every movement closely. The death of Uta and his unborn child have left a scar after all so now that he has fallen in love with someone else again, Yoriichi can't help himself but grow more protective.

☀️​You don't notice when he is trailing behind you when you go anywhere when the sky is already dark as he is worried that a demon might try to take you away the same away they took Uta and his child away from him. He remains pretty distant and as a silent protector for some time where you often see him but know little besides his name about him. You can't help but wonder if he doesn't like you but it is the complete opposite. In fact Yoriichi is actually a bit scared that his feelings for you would spiral out of his control if he would get any closer to you. Eventually the inevitable happens though as the two of you slowly get closer to each other and his worries partially become true. His overprotective antics sometimes result in him growing more monitoring and controlling as he asks you with a serious expression on his face to do something for him.

☀️​I would say that he is less prone to being jealous and just more prone to reacting more protectively. Even in a scenario where he has hardly anything to worry about his eyes are still glued to you just in case anything happens or in case he realises that you look uncomfortable. Yoriichi makes a good effort to try and not let his own feelings interfere with your social life as he tries not to be too selfish with you. Honestly, he is quite good in not letting his own obsession interfere but you should still be aware that he is watching you most of the time. Even when he stands a few feet away from you to not potentially intimidate people around you, his eyes never leave you nor the people you interact with. He's usually quick to step in though when he notices that someone tries to flirt with you or shows signs of attraction for you. He can be rather intimidating when he wants to be as he calmly stares down at them.

☀️​As always there is a clear line when it comes to slaughtering demons or actually taking a human life. He has always shown a calm disposition when he killed demons and he continues with it even as his darling appears in his life. I would say that his trauma with allowing a demon to kill his pregnant wife has made him generally more warily when it comes to any demons around your village so as soon as he notices the tiniest sign that there might be one, he is quickly alarmed and instantly seeks them out to dispose of them as quickly as possible. As a man who slays demons and is normally very kind, he is more considerate and gentle when it comes to treating humans. Which doesn't mean that anyone can just take him as easy for it as his aura can change into one of silent and cold rage if someone really pushes his buttons by harming you and triggering his protective instincts. Perhaps it is this overwhelming calmness he showcases even in moments of rage that is so frightening as he whispers a low warning, a threat to stay away from his beloved.

☀️​When it comes to an abduction Yoriichi is not as bad as some others would be. Considering that he is still very overprotective though, you should expect that he has some rules and wishes he would like you to fulfill just so that his mind can rest a bit easier. He dedicates his time to just accompanying you, whether you know about it or not, during the time where both of you shouldn't live together yet and he establishes his rules as soon as both of you live under the same roof together. Otherwise Yoriichi lets you have your freedom as much as he can because he sees no need to restrict you. That changes when something does happen that triggers his feelings and that can quickly escalate into him turning much more controlling as he suddenly doesn't want you to leave his side for an extended period of time and keeps you within the four walls of your home.

☀️​Yoriichi is besides those moments where he reacts quickly more protective less obvious with his overall unhealthy behavior. It is easy to brush his protective tendencies off as lingering paranoia from his last wife's death and nothing more. He's gentle and calm around you and whilst he isn't one who talks much, he loves listening to you talking about anything. Especially when he realises that you are really passionate about it as he just sits next to you and enjoys your presence. His love is warm and bright for you as it gives you a feeling of safety and protection but underneath the surface one spark might be enough to erupt and escalate this warmth into an all-consuming blaze that calmly burns down everything that threatens you. If it wouldn't be for Yoriichi's vast self-control, things wouldn't be as nice most of the time...

[ripplestitchskein]

Thinking about this anti idea that the show switched gears on them. I don’t understand it. I’ve never understood it. I’ve already talked about how it’s pretty clear from the writing and show setup in the first few episodes what the focus would be but what baffles me is that it’s also just not true that the character’s issues are purely centered on and only expressed via the romance aspect. They are pretty good at applying the character’s issues to all aspects of their lives and interactions. Especially with Blitz because he is the main character.

Blitz, to put it simply hates himself, plain and simple. We all know this. He creates scenarios to force others to see him as he sees himself. He is a textbook case of someone who self sabotages due to extreme self loathing. He’s not sabotaging his work or his life in general though. We can see Blitz is hardworking, he is ambitious, he has his life together from a material perspective. He had a roof over his head, clothes on his back and food in his fridge. He provides these material things for a whole other person as well.

Where Blitz self sabotages is his relationships. It’s made clear from early on in the show it’s NOT just romantic relationships, it’s ALL of them. Blitz targets what he thinks will drive people away the fastest. I need it to be super clear that he does this to everyone and its ongoing even if sometimes it’s less prevalent. The show is about Blitz and Stolas, whether you like it or not they were the two characters who were focused on in the first few episodes. And the plot is driven by their issues and always has been, what gets disregarded in these arguments that the show is only about Stolitz now is how we see these issues manifest outside of the romance aspect of the show consistently and regularly just maybe not in entire episode long plots, it’s a through line.

With Moxxie Blitz insults him, he makes comments to make him uncomfortable. He targets little insecurities he has with himself. As we’ve gone along and they’ve developed he does this less, he compliments him more, he gives him responsibility. I think we see a good subtle example of Blitz’s influence in Moxxie on Full Moon. The Welcome to Hell, Bitch line was pure Blitz. His comfort with saying “So fuck him good sir”. These are the kinds of little things that slowly and carefully drive the changes in their relationship.

For Moxxie and Millie as a couple he inserts themselves into their relationship. He makes sexual jokes about them both. He mentions having a threesome with them. He follows and stalks them. It’s an odd and imo off putting behavior, one I think we’ve theorized about a lot and that’s lead to some interesting takes on his character and his view of monogamy in general. I don’t agree or disagree on the reasonings, I don’t have any info to make an informed decision on it but after Apology Tour it was kind of cemented for me that this behavior was also a pretty effective way to test them and drive them away. They are a very loving and committed couple, if I were a serial self sabotager faced with pushing away a couple to prevent them from getting too close, what is the best way to drive them away for good? Obviously, be the toxic third, have them join the Blitz Exes. He’s not going to admit that’s what he’s doing of course, so he approaches it in earnest like he does most things he is deluding himself about. Go all in on denial.

Blitz only ever tests the fence about them though, he never makes any serious moves on it, and he has largely stopped doing it at all after Chaz and Ozzie’s. I think that episode, how he felt after sleeping with Chaz, was the turning point for him when it came to them. It remains to be seen though.

I think GhostFuckers will be the place to explore it if there is anything left to explore about that. We seem to be getting a Millie based flashback and that might shed some additional light.

What also saves Moxxie and Millie from the full force of his self sabotaging behavior is that there is a built in buffer by them being his employees. He always has a way to keep them at arm’s length if there is a power dynamic he can fall back on.

With Loona she is a very closed off, anti-affection person. With her, the tact Blitzø takes is give her too much attention and show too much love. Smother her in affection no matter how many boundaries she sets and how much she protests about it. In Queen Bee he’s too in his head over Stolas to bother with that, and it’s sadly probably the most in sync they’ve ever been until the end. I pointed it out before but in Full Moon Blitz treats Loona very differently. He imitates her and actually snaps back at her when she says Stolas is dropping him, it was a very different interaction than earlier episodes and I think another subtle sign that how he feels right now is changing him and he’s making efforts. He hasn’t simpered at her for awhile. And he obviously is giving her a more active role in the day to day.

These are ongoing threads and they are all part of of the larger picture of Blitz’s growth and change. Just because a romantic relationship is helping drive that change doesn’t meant other things aren’t, or that the only changes or growth we see are only about the romance.

The fact that that there are two episodes focused entirely on Fizz speaks for itself.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

hi! could you maybe do full hcs of an MC who still exhibits symptoms of the red plague? :3

The Arcana HCs: MC with Red Plague symptoms

-- for headcanon purposes, MC has the red scleras and veins in their limbs, as well as higher body temperature, fatigue levels, and sore throat. however, their day-to-day life isn't impacted much past their appearance --

Julian

It was a genuine trauma trigger for him at first

One look at you, and all he sees are the countless bloodshot eyes of the patients he couldn't save staring back at him. Hours of horrific "research" led by Valdemar on bodies just like yours

It makes him feel especially responsible for you, but it also causes quite a bit of inner emotional conflict when he starts to associate your appearance with things like love and hope as well

This is ultimately one of the things that helps him figure out how he wants to move forward after you help him confront his past

Every night, he watches your eyes slip shut and checks your temperature and pulse through the night out of habit

And every morning, he feels like he's witnessing a miracle when your eyes open again. You've lived through another night, and you fully intend to keep on living with no holds barred

It's actually a little healing to see someone with the Red Plague survive and smile

He's still extremely conscientious of your physical state, though. It was weeks before he let you carry your own shopping basket

He keeps track of your temperature in his notes in case it goes higher than your average and insists that you keep a healthy diet and stick to gentler exercises (it doesn't change his own habits)

Asra

As painful as it was for them to bring you back and be immediately faced with the condition they left you to face on your own, they had other things to worry about once it was clear you would live

Like your memories, for example, or his own feelings of inadequacy when it came to giving you a life worth bringing you back into

By the time life had reached a rhythm that left them space to breathe and think again, they'd already adjusted

He's naturally quick to adapt - and physical appearance never mattered much to him anyway. Finding out you couldn't walk as far as you used to was better than when you couldn't walk at all

Unfortunately, them not noticing your appearance (beyond thinking it's cute) makes it harder for them to recognize how other people react to your appearance. They're fairly oblivious to outside opinions (just look at that big hat they consider "subtle")

So when you express any kind of distaste with the way you look, he's a little surprised, if not blindsided. He's quick to teach you glamor and temperature spells when you do, though

They only really see the Red Plague on you when the lighting hits your face at an odd angle or when they're watching your hands

And when he does notice, all he feels now is admiration. He brought you back, but your resilience goes beyond his imagination

Nadia

She doesn't have any memories of the Red Plague - not when she first meets you, at least, at that point everything from her arrival in Vesuvia to waking up three months prior is missing

But it drives the point home to her that you're someone who has suffered and survived in ways she can't comprehend

She's initially a little overcautious. Once she knows for certain that you're somebody she wants to work closely with, she's not sure how best to broach the subject beyond asking if you're cold or tired

Very interested in what your life is like once you do start talking about it - it tells her about you as a person, but it also gives her insight about how the people of Vesuvia remember the Red Plague

Can relate more than a little bit to the loneliness

Goes above and beyond when it comes to providing for your needs

Your permanent fever is making you chilly? She's got blankets and scarves and cloaks and slippers to wrap you up in

Your throat hurts? She's got plenty of tea

You'd prefer to cover your eyes and hands? She can commission a pair of gloves that fit like a second skin and don't inhibit your functioning in any way. Also, sunglasses are trendy now

You're tired? She'll work somewhere you can snooze nearby

Won't stand for anyone treating you poorly because of it

Muriel

He sees your symptoms the same way he sees his own scars

He didn't ask for them, they're a permanent marker of his pain, and the sight of them is enough to drastically affect how people treat him (his imposing size and RBF not taken into account)

And you're the same way, when it comes to your appearance

Of course, you're also the opposite from him in many ways. You get tired easily, and he's sturdily built. You're always getting cold, and he's always too warm. You belong somewhere and he doesn't

Until you two travel together and become Morga's students. Then you have a similar problem on your hands:

She won't stop commenting on both of your appearances!

Between her tying Muriel's hair up where it can't cover his face, and telling you to use your looks to scare enemies in battle, you're both a little lost for words

That's it, that's how you bond, you're both feeling a little too seen and a little underappreciated

Plus, with you constantly feeling cold from the permanent fever, you really need his body heat as you travel further south and his heart is too soft to deny you (you're like a shivering, red chick)

In the end, he doesn't care about your appearance beyond appreciating it as a marker of how you got this far

Portia

Yeah, so she wasn't around for the Red Plague

She doesn't have any frame of reference for what it was like beyond the nightmarish descriptions she hears from other Palace staff, about walking corpses and blood soaked hands

So when she first sees you, someone who acts and appears perfectly healthy beyond having a slightly hoarse voice and wearing more layers than normal, she assumes it's a magic thing

Is it because you use your magic so constantly, it leaves trails where it courses through your hands or assists your sight? Is your skin extra warm because you breathe fire??

Do your scleras turn other colors too???

She's a little surprised to find out that you're the only known survivor of the Red Plague (besides her brother) and that that's why you have those symptoms

Come to think of it, that's kind of badass. You have her respect

She intuitively understands how that must change your life socially, though, and she goes out of her way to help you make connections and smooth over any public fear

She's also got a strong nurturing instinct and loves to fuss over you, keeping you cozy and well rested and fed

Pepi loves your high body temperature

Lucio

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

That's it, it's bad enough for him to look at you as a ghost and be confronted with what he knows for a fact is his fault

But it's even worse when he realizes that this is what the body he was supposed to revive himself with ended up becoming: permanently marked by the plague he spent decades outrunning

And it makes him afraid that he'll look like this too, if he makes it back from his horrific goat form in one piece

His fears change as he gets to know you, of course. It goes from not wanting to end up like you to not wanting you to know that how you ended up was his fault

But it also makes it even more real to him how important it is to address the past, even though he doesn't want to

He's not able to look at you without wincing until you leave Vesuvia, after putting things right. It feels too much like the past

Once you do, though, and begin life as journeymen, Lucio gets to find a world that the Plague hasn't touched yet, and that also means getting to see you in a context of your own choosing

He's always been partial to the color red, anyways

And with how much he hates the cold, sleeping next to you is fantastic with your elevated body temp