#also hopefully the office manager in the other office will be back from being ill as well

[catinfroghat]

Half finished cat I drew on my hand at work

[bewitchedfeathers]

No One Will Know - Vox Cold Denial

I received like 4 other requests involving Vox cold denial and the vees so this is my fill for all of you who submitted those. If there’s something more specific you’d like to request that I didn't get to in this feel free to send it in, my askbox is open!

Also I didn't have the stamina to do the length I think this prompt deserves. But I hope you all enjoy the scene I came up with. 

–

Vox coughed heavily into a fist, hating the way each harsh burst of sound scraped his aching throat. He was left panting in the aftermath, as he let himself collapse back into the embrace of his office chair. He was on the third day of being sick and hiding himself away in his control room.

He appreciated the quiet of the space and more importantly the lack of other’s eyes. He normally thrived in the spotlight and enjoyed holding the attention of every eye in any room he was in, whether through his natural charm or his hypnotic abilities. But he felt riddled with weakness and disgusted with the symptoms of the wretched illness he’d somehow managed to pick up.

He’d been forced to dodge Val and Velvette’s calls, his rough congested voice would be a giveaway. And he’d sequestered himself away in the dark surrounded by his computer equipment. He’d only let his assistant in because he needed someone to bring him supplies to make it through this wretched cold. The amount of tissues alone that he’d gone through was ridiculous. 

He’d had to claim to be too busy with a new project to step away, even when Val was throwing one of his tantrums that usually only Vox could soothe away. Velvette had been pissed at having to manage Val in his place. And he’d bowed out of their weekly dinner, which he knew had raised both their suspicions. 

But hopefully the worst would pass before tomorrow and he could soothe their ruffled feathers and distract them before they could figure why he’d really disappeared for a few days. Vox had never liked showing weakness, even when he was alive, and it was even more important among the demons in hell. Even with the Vees who he was so close to, he couldn’t bring himself to truly let his guard down.

There was a knock at the door, he frowned but ignored it, his assistant knew how to get in and he didn’t want anyone else to see him like this.

There was a pause and then the knocking escalated to banging. He snarled in irritation but his face fell into a lax expression as he scrambled to bring a tissue to his face. “Hehhhh…..Hh’GSSHHzzt…” He let out a low groan wiping his face and vents clean, before tossing the tissue into a pile next to his chair. 

The banging stopped fro several minutes and he sighed with tired relief. Then the door slid smoothly open and Vox gestured with a hand for assistant to come bring the tea he’d requested without looking over.

“What the hell, Vox!?”

Vox whipped around to see Velvette and Valentino stepping through the doorway, his assistant unconcious behind them before the door shut, leaving them in his soundproof lair.

He turned on his customer service smile standing and moving in front of his tissue pile, with a last ditch effort to salvage this. 

“Velvette, Val, what do I owe the pleasure of your kff your company?” He tried his best to hide the congestion and raspiness of his voice but was only partially successful.

“Voxxy why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Val whined as he sauntered toward Vox.

“I’m not sick!” He snapped, losing his composure for a moment, electricity dancing from his attenna down across his shoulder. He paused, smile back in place as he tried to placate his partners, “I’m just busy so if you could leave it’d be appre…preciated.” He swallowed heavily trying to ease the tickle in his sinuses that stuttered his breath.

“Vox, please, we’re not idiots. You’ve obviously been dodging us, and we can see that you’re sick,” Velvette stopped in front of his with arms crossed and a brow raised as if daring him to try suggesting otherwise.

Vox changed tack. “It’s just a…hah…a cold. Snf! It’s nothing. I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me,” he said with a wide reassuring grin. 

Valentino stepped into his space, petting a hand down the side of his face. “Voxxy, baby, you were already missed. You keep dodging my calls, you don’t come to dinner, what am I supposed to think amorcito?” Valentino purred all exaggerated saccharine sweetness. 

“Really, Val, it’s only been a few days and I really have been…hh…hah-have been…” He struggled hovering on the precipice, trying to keep his eyes open, his breath even. But finally his expression collapsed and he heaved in a breath, raising his arm just in time to sneeze into his elbow.

“Hehhh’IZZZSSHHmphhh…Hh’hh’EKZzZsshh…heh’Huh’ITZZZshhhhuhh….fuck excuse mbe…” he mumbled keeping his face and vents partially hidden to hide the mess. Apparently trying to fight of his sneezes had been a mistake. 

“Salud, Voxxy,” Val said with genuine surprise, hand still hovering in the air from when Vox had abruptly turned away to sneeze.

“Gesundheit,” Velvette added with amused exasperation.

Vox had no choice but to turn away and grab a few tissues to clean himself up. But he turned back to them, already trying to do damage control.

“It’s a mild annoyance at worst. But kff seriously I have a lot to get done, Snff so if neither of you have anything time sensitive you need from me, I’d like to get back to work.”

“Vox, you look like shit and I can feel the heat coming off you from here. You need to get out of this office and go get some rest,” Velvette said with her usual bluntness.

It’s j-just warm in heeeh…SNF in here. Really I’m fine. I’ll be done soon and I promise I’ll get some sleep.” He managed to finish his sentence by the the skin of his teeth as he tried his best to keep his symptoms under control.

“Vox-” Velvette started to stay looking unimpressed but he cut her off with a sudden sneeze that caught him off guard.

“Hh’IZZZtsshhh…scuse mbe I-Hh’IHTZZZt-IZZsshhuh…snffff-HIH’SSHHzzzch…” He realized that he wasn’t going to stop sneezing until he cleared out his vents some. He stumbled as he sneezed again when he turned to grab tissues. 

“Hh’DZZShhuh!” Val was immediately there steadying him and using a free hand to grab a tissue and press it into Vox’s hand, while an arm snaked around his waist. 

“Hh’hh’EKTZZzzshuh…” Electricity danced over his skin and he could see Val’s ruff frizz with static. 

“Suh-sorry-IZZZshhuh…HIH’EIZZZshuhh…” Finally he did the equivalent of blowing his nose, clearing out each one of his vents into a tissue, Valentino helpfully passing him a fresh one. When he finished he was leaning heavily into Val’s side and out of breath.

“Bless you, amorcito. That is quite the cold you’ve been hiding,” he cooed over Vox as he guided Vox into his high backed chair. He snagged a blanket off the ground and gently wrapped it around Vox’s shoulders. 

Velvette appeared next to Valentino, giving Vox a searching look that he wilted under. Finally she sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll clear the floor and then we’ll get you to bed. If there’s anything time sensitive you can delegate it or it can wait,” she said as she typed rapidly on her phone. 

“You really don’t need to fuss, it’s just a cold,” he said tiredly, embarrassed at what a mess he'd become.

“Voxxy, just give in and let us do what we want,” Valentino said with a wave of one hand while another massaged lightly at the back of his neck. Vox melted a little into his touch, eyelids drooping. 

“Let us take care of you for once,” Val said quieter and more sincere than he usually ever was. Val was always the first to wave off pesky things like feelings. Vox looked up at him a little wide eyed, caught off guard by it.

“Floors clear,” Velvette said breaking the moment. “Grab the idiot and lets get him to the penthouse.”

Valentino swept him into his arms with the blanket and Vox let out a squeak of static as he threw his arms around Val’s neck for balance. Val just smirked widely at him as he carried him out of the room. Velvette followed, still typing away on her phone, ensuring that no one else saw Vox looking this vulnerable. And then they disappeared into the elevator to the upper floors to tuck their idiot partner into bed.

—-

I hope you enjoyed! Thank you to everyone who leaves comments and sends prompts!

[Fic Masterlist]

[stayingalivehq]

On October 1st, a small group of brave survivors set out to venture a bit further from the hideout, hoping to find much-needed resources, especially medicine as their supplies were slowly dwindling and with winter coming up, they would soon face coughs, colds, flu and other illnesses surely. Due to Grant's extensive clientele within the city, they manage to stock up on medicine even though it wasn't quite the kind they hoped for.

They found a lot of supplies in a gated community by Dallas and hauled back quite a lot. There is more there, so they will make a return sooner or later.

Loot for this month:

1 large bag of "cask strength bourbon" flavor algae cookies

1 yellow plastic milk crate

1 box of screws

1 bottle of hand sanitizer

1 small electric generator; runs on gas and grease

1 big soup pot

1 small package of "cleopatra's pearls" flavor textured vegetable protein pellets

some empty vodka bottles in an office

some spare clothing in a bag

1 big sack of rice

three backpacks in decent shape; though one is a child's schoolbag with superman depicted on it

1 duffel filled to the brim with medicine; opioids, stimulants, codeine and a small can of nitrous oxide

1 bottle of antibiotics

1 set of christmas lights

1 pack of batteries

some books

1 crate of canned beans

Some wanted items weren't found, some were. Life these days is a gamble and the raiders know this. Due to the small size of the group, the risk was a little higher than usual, but they all made it back alive. Besides being exhausted from hauling supplies back through an infested city, they bring home injuries.

Josif got his fingers caught in a door and while - hopefully nothing's broken, he's definitely going to lose one or two fingernails and will not have an easy time drawing his bow for a week or two.

Henry got caught on a fence and will need to see one of the doctors about a nasty hole on his lower leg, but also a cut on his thigh. Thankfully the group brought back antibiotics, right?

Elijah got caught on a collapsing set of stairs and everybody in the house heard his shoulder pop out of its joint. The other two fixed it, kind of, but he, too, will need assistance upon his return.

[pseudinymous]

This is a little late, but I decided that this year I will take my life back, violently if necessary. I’m going to:

- Get my endometriosis (ALL of it) removed in March, using the best gynocological surgeon in the state. He basically just specialises in removing endo by excision all day long. I might finally be free of this highly particular multiple-times-per-month hell that has blighted my life since I was 13.

- Sell the house, or if the price drops too much by March, try to rent it out, since I geographically cannot live there (and no, I don’t give a shit what you think of landlords). There is no other option. I won’t sit here and take a $50,000 loss just to get rid of the damn thing. This will mean paying off a lot of debt associated with the house that was supposed to be paid when it was sold; I am working this down as fast as I can now and will work something out with my creditors with what’s left over in March if I can’t sell at a reasonable price. - Go back to therapy. I use tumblr, of course I’m mentally ill lmao. This is a priority. I’m going back to see my first psychologist who was historically the best one I had. Awesome dude. Also now specialises in people with chronic health conditions. Feeling very relieved I can go back to him.

- Get a different psychiatrist. Current one is only good for prescribing ADHD meds and not much else; difficult to talk to, difficult to explain situations to, straightforward but a bit of a cunt. Going to go find someone who’s less of a cunt about the fact that I need to function properly and not be a risk to myself across more than just office hours, and will actually help me to find a medication arrangement that will safely allow for this.

- Take a trimester off university to recover from doing anatomy over summer (freaking hell it’s a lot of work) and also recover from surgery. Can hopefully use some of the extra time to help work off my debts, too.

- Optimise my heart treatment plan so that I can get more benefit and less fainting and exhaustion spells. I’ll probably have to work pretty closely with my cardiologist for this, but I think it’ll be worth it.

- Stop caring about mental health. No, this sounds stupid, but it’s a thing. I over-think about my mental state and it causes me to get worse when I realise how bad it is (and subsequently obsess on fixing something that is, by all means, presently unfixable hormone problems). An experiment has led to me realising that refusing to acknowledge and ignoring the state of it actually leads to me having WAY better days. So basically, am I capitulating? If the answer is yes, fuck everything and play Pokemon.

- Keep getting kickass grades. Stick my tongue out at everyone who said I couldn’t. Fuck ‘em.

- Prove myself. To myself. Somehow. Prove myself to everyone. Figure out how to present myself as me again, and not some sick frail little waif of a human being. Not oversharing all my illnesses would be a damn good start (of course, this is tumblr, so lol).

It’s a lot, but it’s a plan, and every part of it that I can manage to execute will help.

Then in 2024, I might even dare to learn how to hope.

[hopeful-adventurer]

1) Saying she shut her down in the bar is a stretch. She said she was drinking alone, which she was and she wasn’t in the mood to talk, but then she and carina shared a look and you can see the instant connection and she changed her mind almost immediately.

2) She definitely shut her in her office but considering the context and Maya’s lack of long term relationships, I don’t really blame her. Yes she could have been nicer, but also how often do you show up to the work place of the person you just met, barely know and have only had casual sex with. That’s jarring especially for someone like Maya.

3) Agreed, shitty of Maya to do. Cheating is a reality of life and honestly in a shondaland tv drama cheating happens with so many characters of all demographics, zero percent surprising. And there was a decent time gap between the cheating and the apology, Maya had time to realize some things about her childhood and Carina still loves her and she know Maya loves her.

4) The sperm donor thing isn’t too much of a stretch or that crazy, to me at least, because of the closeness of the firefighters, the growth of the characters, especially jack who seemed to have matured especially during the COVID portraying season, and the relationship that jack and carina now have.

5) Maya isn’t a therapy goer. That has never been something she would have even considered before getting with carina. Obviously she has many demons and issues and internal struggles but at the time of getting back together and marrying, she wasn’t spiraling, work was good, she had support from her friends and I feel the extent of issue issues was not on display and therefore seemed manageable without therapy. Then shit hit the fan end season4, into season5, and culminating at the end of season5 leading leading to the season 6 spiral.

6) She doesn’t hate her stuff in her place. She is used to being on her own and she needed time to adjust to them being around each other and in each other’s space on a daily basis. Which she eventually did. This was not a lasting battle, it was a normal adjustment when beginning to share space with your SO.

7) Do you watch the show? Maya is not an awful person by any stretch. Yes, she has done some pretty awful things, but she is also loving, caring, kind, a supportive friend, and she is trying to change and improve herself against every fiber of her being (that was engrained in her by her father who is an awful person). And the thing is she thinks she is doing the right thing, even though from the outside looking in we can see she needs some professional help. How many people in real life have suffered trauma, been ill equipped to deal with it but are still successful or somewhat successful and think “I know what I’m doing, I’m fine, I don’t need help” ? Maya is not an awful person in my opinion.

8) I don’t quite understand your point here? She deserves better because she is hot? I agree Maya has done some hurtful things. But she was also there for Carina in so many ways when Andrea died. She was going to go to Italy with her during a pandemic. She allowed herself room to grow and become ready to give Carina something she thought she never would want, kids. Obviously Carina doesn’t deserve to be hurt or treated poorly, but let’s not act like Maya is some vile person who has only ever hurt Carina.

Maya did show remorse. She admitted she was abused(which isn’t easy to do), during the pandemic she said along the lines of I don’t want to half ass anything in this relationship and I want this to be real and I hope this shows that I am sorry and committed fully to you when asking Carina to move in. People are imperfect, but they grow and change. Maya said she was broken when they started this relationship, but she has been slowly changing and growing through the seasons. But she does need help and hopefully 6B can allow for Maya to get true help and start healing. She definitely owes Carina many apologies and has much work to do get to a good place in their relationship again, but I don’t feel this is bad representation for queer relationships.

Just saw Station 19 and have some thoughts about Maya and Carina. Dunno if you agree, and we know this ship is popular but,

1. Maya shuts down Carina the first time they meet at a bar.

2. Maya shuts down Carina when Karina brings her lasagna.

3. Maya cheats on Carina by sleeping with a guy.

4. Maya apologizes to Carina for cheating on her but the same guy will be used as sperm donor.

5. Despite Maya and Carina having issues, they move in together and get married, with minimal to no couples counselling/therapy (might have missed it, let us know if we did).

6. Maya hates Carina's stuff around her place.

7. Maya is kind of an awful person.

8. Carina is kind of hot. Why is she with Maya? Clearly she deserves better.

Yes, we need diverse queer characters, but Kate Whistler cheated on Lucy Tara, too, but that was handled well and Kate really showed remorse and character development.

Just our two cents worth.

[bookuya]

— rushed kisses.

:: scaramouche + xiao x gn!reader (separate)

; fluff, hcs + drabbles.. and lots of kisses of course!

for @xiaosmoon's collab! happy valentine's day <3

content: collab + requested work! doctor reader and healer scaramouche cause i said so! you want to make out with xiao soooooo bad,, not proofread cause that would be torture to read over and over again

author's note: wow im actually writing now, are you guys proud,, to the anon who requested this idea, i mixed this with a collab piece, but hopefully this is what you had in mind! C:

scaramouche

you met scaramouche when he entered your doctor's office for the first time, and you accidentally hit him straight in the jaw while pulling out an adhesive bandage roll.

you haven't met the sixth harbinger before, being a new healer that had just joined the fatui— you didn't consider what role scaramouche could be when you only mumbled an "oops" to return the ill-mannered attitude he was having since he stepped into the doorway.

it pretty much just resulted in you and scaramouche having a full-on argument in your office, even as you patched up nervous put-on-the-spot fatui agents.

as time passed by, though, you got so used to scaramouche just coming into your office, whether it be to: annoy you, reprimand you, or ask for you to heal him even if he could do it himself.

the tsaritsa is the happiest person standing on teyvat when she finds out you two start dating; la signora and dottore win the most surprised award while childe earns the "yay-i-get-to-bother-the-shit-out-of-them" award

you don't know how it started yourself; just seeing him so often and casually in your office got your heart naturally set on him, and the way the tips of his ears burn when you get close up to his figure to heal him doesn't go unnoticed.

you're also surprised when at some point in the relationship, scaramouche gets extremely touchy and open with his feelings.

"scara," you manage to say, interrupted by your own giggles as he cups your jaw tightly but gently in his hands. scaramouche presses rushed, eager kisses all over your face— on your cheeks, eyelids, forehead, nose, and especially your lips.

you guess it's partially your fault for wrapping your arms around his neck in the first place.

"don't you dare get into any trouble while i'm gone," he grumbles between giving kisses, still holding you close even as you keep laughing from his ticklish and warm touch. scaramouche completely ignores the anxious fatui agent in the doorway of your office, fumbling for the sixth harbinger's attention to go on a mission.

"m-my lord," he stammers while hesitantly fidgeting in his position. "we have to go... tsarita's u-urgent orders..!"

you say with a grin, "c'mon scara, you gotta go." you press your own kiss against his forehead as he grunts with a complaint under his breath. he sends a sharp glare over his shoulder right at the agent, making another amused sound bubble out of you. "i promise i'll be right here when you get back."

"yeah, you better be," he retorts with a scoff, but his gaze is soft as it lands on you.

even as he turns towards the door—while narrowing dark eyes at the agent— you smile at the fact of him being a puddle of emotions in front of you, despite his usual stoic intimidating self. la signora was right when she told you that you got him wrapped around your finger.

well... one more kiss wouldn't hurt, you stubbornly think as you step forward, turning scaramouche back around by the shoulder and pressing one last kiss to his blushing cheeks.

xiao

for someone who seems to hate mortals and interaction, he sure loves to kiss you and hug you a whole lot.

he won't go to the extent of kissing you in front of others though—but there was a time you kissed xiao in front of zhongli, and the tips of his ears burned as he just let you do it

with his busy duties as an adeptus, you're usually in wangshuu inn or liyue harbor when he isn't around. the time you do spend together is mostly at nighttime, where the both of you are routinely free in your schedules.

there are times where, in between going out and saving those who need help, xiao teleports back to you with the need and want for touch.

holding your teapot in one hand and a vase in the other, you're trying to debate whether the qingxin flowers you picked earlier today with ganyu and shenhe (and the ones you managed to hide from their urge to eat) would fit on your nightstand in xiao's room or in your teapot. you set the teapot onto the ground and pulled the flowers out of your bag, gently setting them into the vase and onto your dresser.

almost dropping the vase, you perk up and turn around at the sound of sudden, but recognizable footsteps from the doorway. seeing that your assumption of xiao coming back was right, you excitedly smile and step towards him.

"great timing! i need to ask you—"

you are interrupted as xiao closes the distance with quick strides, his lips abruptly meeting yours in an obvious rush. your eyes widen at the sudden touch, stumbling backwards before xiao's hand holds onto your elbow to pin you into place for him.

"sorry," he mutters while pulling away, not actually sorry at all as he shamelessly leans back forwards to chase for your touch. your heart skips as his hold moves from your elbow to the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to deepen the intimate kiss even as you squeak in surprise.

you can tell that xiao needs to go somewhere else quickly from the way he's still holding his polearm in his other hand, but you can't say anything about it as he keeps pressing more kisses onto your lips. he gives up on keeping you in place and instead steps forward again, all the way until your back hits the dresser and he satisfyingly gets to kiss you even more.

after a few more moments he (unfortunately) pulls away, the tips of his ears evidently a burning red while placing his lips onto your forehead as a final goodbye. you don't even get to say anything again as he disappears into thin air, back to his adepti duties with the taste of sweet honey still in your mouth.

even when xiao is gone, your heart can't help but keep racing in the mist of his presence.

[cherriedzoro]

hi cherry ^^ i love your fluff fics and i was wondering if you could write a fluff comfort zoro x fem reader where the reader notices that he isn't feeling well so she tries to reach and take care of him but he backs away, he reminds her that her immune system is weak and she tells him she'll be okay then he replies "i'm serious. If i get you sick, i'll lose it." I FEEL LIKE IM THE ONE WRITING THE FIC BUT I WANNA SEE THIS IN YOUR WRITING STYLE IF POSSIBLE !! also no rush, i can always wait take your time <3

hihi! thank you for your patience and kind words, this fic was really fun to write sorry for the wait please enjoy :)

tw's n/a, not proofread, 529 words 2,870 characters

want to read my other works look here, want to request something check here!

caring zoro x fem reader

hearing that zoro had became ill through chopper was nothing more than short of a shock, realxing in one of the few peaceful spots on the sunny a bit of curiosity had filled you when the reindeer appeared by your side looking rather distraught about something.

"chopper?" you asked bending down to make eye contact with the smaller as he glanced back at you frantically, he managed to mutter out a few words.

"it's zoro." chopper replied after a few seconds had passed by of the doctor anxiously rubbing his hooves together.

"zoro?" you questioned him, a bit of worry flooding your thoughts as you heard the doctor mention the green haired swordsmen name.

"he's sick, i think he picked something else from the last island we visited i mean i don't think it's serious but it's definitely not good either." a sigh passes through your lips after hearing choppers words, zoro always did seem to find some way to make you worry.

"thanks for letting me know chopper." you say flashing a quick smile at the doctor before continuing, "would it be okay to see him?" you had questioned chopper hopefully.

to which he hesitantly nodded with a small warning of care, "just try to keep your distance we don't need anyone else getting sick." before reaching up for your hand and leading you to his office.

after gently pushing open the door peering in to see zoro resting in the patient bed, most likely against his own will and a lot of encouragement from chopper zoro opens his eye an apparent frown on his face.

"how are you doing?" you ask making your way over to zoro softly pressing your hand against his forehead as chopper exits the room going to check up on the rest of the crew for any symptoms.

"i'm fine, stop that." zoro says sternly moving your hand away from him, his apparent frown growing larger as he lets out an annoyed groan.

you roll your eyes at his behavior, "are you sure, do you need anything?" you ask him before he lets out a sigh to speak.

"listen, you know you have a weak immune system if you get sick because of me-" the swordsmen begins before being cut off by your own words.

"i'll be just fine zoro." you say trying to convince him otherwise, though still refusing to listen he picks back up.

"i'm serious, your my girlfriend i'll loose it if you get sick i care to much about you. chopper said i'd be better in a few days, so stop worrying and go do something else." though he could sometimes come off as cold you knew this was zoro's way of caring for you, he didn't want you to get sick by trying to take care of him.

"okay i understand." you finally bring yourself to say meeting eyes with the swordsmen, "thanks for caring." you add on ignoring the slight dust of pink on zoro's cheeks.

as you exit the room you can't help the beating of your heart.

though he was the sick one he still cared more about your wellness then his own.

[missmentelle]

could you explain some of the differences between how adhd affects executive function and how depression or other illnesses do? i think i definitely struggle with executive dysfunction but i don’t have a diagnosis yet (hopefully once i can go back to my college campus in fall) and i’ve been told it can look kinda similar in this aspect

Untangling the relationship between ADHD, executive dysfunction and depression can be sort of like trying to figure out where a perfect circle starts and stops - these things often go together, and separating them is more challenging than you might think.

But let's stop for a minute and look at what ADHD and depression look like on their own.

ADHD is a neurological disorder that affects the brain's ability to regulate attention and impulses. It's a common misconception that ADHD is "a lack of attention span" or "a short attention span" - people with ADHD cannot regulate their attention spans properly. It is hard for them to stay focused on tasks they aren't interested in, but it's equally hard for them to tear themselves away from tasks they are very interested in. I have ADHD, and it's not unusual for me to work on something I'm very interested in for 10-12+ hours straight, without stopping to eat, shower or do other things that I'm supposed to do.

The most common symptoms of ADHD are:

hyperactivity - the person may be fidgety, restless, and struggle to sit still

poor impulse control - they may spend money they shouldn't on impulse purchases, drive too quickly, or otherwise make reckless decisions they wouldn't make if they were made to stop and think about it

prone to distractions or losing focus 

hyperfocus - this means focusing on an interesting task for hours, to the point that other important tasks or even basic self-care are neglected

poor concentration

inattentiveness - they may be prone to spacing out and daydreaming

difficulties with planning, time management and with being on time - deadlines tend to be difficult for them

a tendency to lose things - difficulties keeping track of belongings and important documents

difficulties with organization - living spaces, offices and desks are often a disaster

low frustration tolerance - they are easily frustrated and have a hard time coping with frustration in healthy ways

difficulty following directions - they may rush through instructions and make careless mistakes

difficulty waiting their turn - in adults, this often manifests as interrupting or talking over other people constantly

People who are diagnosed with ADHD will not have every symptom, and symptoms may change as you age. Men and boys, for instance, are more prone to having hyperactive and impulsive symptoms, which is one of the reasons why ADHD is more commonly diagnosed in males - those symptoms are quite visible. Women and girls, on the other hand, are more likely to have inattentive symptoms without hyperactivity, which often leads to them being labelled as "ditsy" or "spacey" without their ADHD being recognized.

Depression, on the other hand, is a mood disorder that can affect many different processes in the brain, including executive functioning. Some of the executive function issues that you can experience with depression include:

“brain fog” - an experience where your thinking feels slow, fuzzy or disorganized

difficulties concentrating 

forgetfulness, issues with short-term memory 

memory loss, issues recalling long-term memories

easily distracted

delayed mental processing, slow reaction times

difficulties with problem-solving and decision-making - often manifests as the person being indecisive and unable to make up their mind

The reason that it can be tough to detangle ADHD from depression, however, is that ADHD can often be a major contributor to depression - or at least, the social impact of living with ADHD can contribute to depression.  The world is simply not build for people with ADHD brains, and trying to exist in a world that’s not built for your brain is exhausting, especially when everyone around you seems to manage it so easily. When you struggle to be on time, meet deadlines and stay organized, you’re going to meet with a lot of failure in your life. The struggles often start in school - kids with ADHD have a hard time sitting still, paying attention and getting homework done, which leads to poorer grades and more school failure. College acceptance rates are lower for kids with ADHD (22% of kids with ADHD are accepted to college vs 77% of non-ADHD kids) and the college graduation rate is much lower (5% of adults with ADHD have graduated college, vs 35% of non-ADHD adults). And those struggles follow people into the workforce - 55% of adults with ADHD have been fired from a job, vs 23% of the general population. 

Living with ADHD can also cause problems with relationships. When you struggle with impulse control, are unreliable about answering messages and tend to show up late to dates, it can be more difficult for you to start and maintain friendships and romantic relationships. When you struggle with basic life skills or financial management (as many people with ADHD do) that can also be a major cause of frustration for long-term partners. The divorce rates for couples with an ADHD spouse may be as much as double the average divorce rate, and people with ADHD go through more sexual partners in their lifetime (the average for people with ADHD is 18.6 partners, vs 6.5 for the general population). 

It can be extremely discouraging to constantly feel like you aren’t living up to your potential and that you’re letting other people down. It can be very difficult to watch the people around you seem to effortlessly manage things that you struggle to do, no matter how hard you try. It can feel like you’re trying to climb out of a slippery well while someone has their boot on your forehead - no matter how hard you struggle, you just can’t seem to get ahead. All of these things can contribute to high rates of depression and anxiety among people with ADHD. It’s a vicious cycle - their executive function causes life circumstances that lead to depression, which leads to worse executive functioning, which leads to worse life circumstances, etc. 

The good news for those of us with ADHD is that proper treatment can significantly interrupt this vicious cycle. Many people with ADHD can improve their quality of life by receiving treatment for ADHD. Getting treatment for depression can also improve your quality of life and make it easier to manage ADHD. Making lifestyle adaptations (like finding a career with flexible hours, finding an understanding partner, having a cleaning service come in once in a while) can also make it easier to manage ADHD, and to succeed while living with it. ADHD and depression often go hand-in-hand, but it’s possible to overcome them and find ways to manage them.  Best of luck to you! MM

[windblooms]

Hi!! Could you do headcanons of Diluc, Kayea, Childe and Zhongli with a s/o who is touch starved but is too shy to intimate physical affection please? Thank you!💙

decided to answer the two of these in the same ask since they have similar personalities for the reader, and they evolved into scenarios.  hopefully what i’ve written is all right!

edit: to the second anon, i’m sorry, i don’t know how people write more than 500 characters in asks. ㅠㅠ  is it maybe a submission . . . ?

childe:

as a very perceptive individual, childe would pick up on your hesitations relatively soon, however won’t say anything about them outright.  

while he may ask you if something’s wrong whenever you reach out, but self-consciously pull away, or when you’re on the verge of words but can’t bring yourself to speak, he won’t pry into your meekness. 

he knows that some people prefer to keep things to themselves or away from others – he’s a prime example of this himself.  so he doesn’t want to push you, but will continue to keep mental tabs on when you shrink away, or backtrack after you sound as if you’re going to ask him something.

if the trend continues for a while, he’ll eventually sit down to talk with you about it.  he’ll discuss with you patiently, not wanting to invade past things you might not want to share just yet, but he still tries to find the cause of your hesitancies so he can better understand you.

“there’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” he leans forward across the table, and rests his chin on his hand.  “you can tell me, you know.  i’ll try and help you with it.”

as you take your time to answer, he grows increasingly concerned, but still wears a poker face to not influence you as well.  across the table, he’ll slowly reach out his hand as a means of comfort, and clasp yours when you don’t pull away.

you begin to speak about your uncertainties, and childe listens intently.  ah, so that was it – now that you mention it, the two of you don’t hold hands much, or really touch each other.  he had assumed that’s how you preferred it, little to no physical touch.  but now that you’ve explained why you’ve concealed those wishes . . . 

“i’d be more than willing to hold you.”  childe’s words are soft, and he manages a small smile to encourage you.  as soon as your face flushes, though, he can tell that there’s something else you want to say.  so he pauses, expectant, but you still seem nervous.

he takes a gander and speaks.  “we can start off slow, if you want . . .  actually, anything you want, you can tell me.  you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed.”

from there, the two of you work out what you want.  you both agree to take it slow, since this will be a first for you; small touches against each other’s fingers as reassurance, and taps against his shoulder when you’re too nervous to outright ask for his attention.  he also has something of his own to suggest:

“there’s some custom that mondstadtians have,” childe ponders aloud suddenly.  “hm – something about tapping three times, meaning ‘i love you’?”

at his notion, you become bashful, and look down towards your lap.  you know where he’s going with this, and at your reaction, the snezhnayan chuckles, unfolding his hands from atop each other to squeeze yours in demonstration.

“one, two, three.  it’s just gonna be between us, all right?”

diluc:

diluc is arguably one of the most emotionally reserved characters in all of mondstadt.  sure, he’s got a sense of dry humor and wit whenever he feels snarky enough, but when it comes to personal sentiments?  he keeps them behind lock and key, with the exception of passive aggression.

if you’re self-conscious about asking for affection, such as when you’re about to reach out to tap at his hand yet pull back at the last instant, you find him looking at you expectatntly, his notorious half-lidded gaze fixated on you.  if there’s something you want, you’ll ask for it is his mentality, since he assumes that the two of you are both comfortable enough in your relationship to do so.  and relationships are built around trust.  so why are you hesitating?

that is to say, he doesn’t stare at you until you crack.  after a few seconds, he’ll look away, and resume whatever he was doing beforehand.  if it were anyone else, he’d most likely ask them verbally what they want, since there’s no use in prolonging the time, and he’s an impatient man. 

he makes a conscious effort to be more gentle with you.  he can’t quite tell if you appreciate it though especially in these scenarios, since you always chew at your lip and refrain from looking at him afterwards.

diluc will only allude to these instances.  he’ll ask “is there something you need?” or “is something the matter?”  he has no experience with physical affection of any sort, at least since his father all those years ago.  so he’d be quite lost with your circumstance; he doesn’t know at all what you want unless you make a verbal indication as to what it is. 

one day, in the privacy of his office, he senses your fingers just near his forearm.  diluc looks over in time to see you clasp his coat rather shakily, but your hold is there nonetheless.  much like usual, he’ll peer at you with a half-lidded gaze, although this time he addresses how skittish you appear. 

“something the matter?” he’ll say as per usual, but this time he isn’t vague; he’s referring to your sudden committance to reaching out as opposed to pulling away.

“ . . . just wanted to hold you.”  your confession is a mere whisper, but your boyfriend still hears it.  the two of you sit in silence for a bit, before he turns his body and puts his hand on the side of your head, pressing gently so that you lean flush against his arm. 

you’re speechless, however the circumstance doesn’t need words anymore.  content with you hugging his arm, and now understanding your wants, diluc continues to work as you drift asleep against him.  while there’s still a ways to go, as he’s sure that this isn’t the only desire you have, it’s surely a start.

kaeya:

the astute captain that he is, kaeya can hone into your desires with relative ease.

before you can retract your hand after reaching out, he’s already grasped it in his own.  you’re caught off-guard, not expecting his agility, but his grip isn’t firm or unpleasant; it’s gentle, as if he’s caring for glass.

he lowers his face so that the two of you are eye-level.  “no need to be shy.  it’s just us.”  kaeya’s reassurance is playful at first, until your contemplative silence queues him in on the severity of your timidness.

he’s concerned: is there something serious that’s bothering you?  he’d just assumed that you wanted to hold hands, or lean on each other.  for how long it takes you to speak, he’s thinking the worst: is a coworker bothering you?  are you ill with a fever?  kaeya’s eyebrows furrow, and he immediately speaks again.  “what’s wrong, precious?  tell me, please.”

looking up at him, you realize that he has the wrong impression.  tenderly enveloping your cheek with his hands, rubbing your skin with his thumbs, you sink into the affection – but he’s got the wrong idea.  

“i-it’s fine,” you begin, and he blinks rapidly.  “just . . . wanted to, uh,” you nudge further into his hands, and squeeze his arms gently, “ . . . touch you.”

ah.  your meekness makes sense now, although considering your personality, his initial guesses probably wouldn’t have been far off.  nevertheless, kaeya indulges you, even if you both continue the circumstance in silence.  it’s evident that you’ve been holding back this request for a while, and as much as he loves to tease and would like to in this moment, he doesn’t believe now is an appropriate time.

so, kaeya continues to stroke your face, soothing away your nerves.  his other hand clasps yours in your lap, giving you the time and affection you crave.  

he finds your vulnerability endearing, but there’s guilt on his conscience: why have you been nervous to approach him about this, and why did he not pick up on it sooner?  not that he expects you to come for him for everything – kaeya just theorizes that there must be some reason as to why you appear so touch-starved, and he’s thinking the worst about such a reason.

“feeling better?”  he inquires, still cradling your face, and he pulls you into a hug.  his warmth is reassuring to you – the security that you’ve longed for.  if this is what affection feels like, you’re not sure that you’d ever want to pull away.

“yeah.”  hesitantly, you lift your face from his chest, but your arms remain around his waist.  your boyfriend grins slightly, and ruffles your hair, pushing your bangs aside so he can kiss your forehead.

“tell me about it.  we can figure this out together.” 

zhongli:

about three weeks into your relationship is when zhongli receives questions from hu tao: “hey, you and y/n don’t touch each other at all.  i know you’re ‘professional’ and stuff, but jeez – not even hand-holding?  thought it’d get more exciting at this point.”

and while he initially thought of her remarks as rude – your relationship isn’t any of her business – it did prompt him to consider her words.

specifically, she’s right: while he’s generally busy at wangsheng, he strives to make time for you whenever possible.  and in that time, never once have either of you touched each other.  he’s never minded, since he’s admittedly gone without it for so long and is used to life without it – but it’s the modern age, and isn’t it customary for liyuens to . . . ?

so he takes it upon himself to ask you over dinner.  he’s made bamboo shoot soup for you tonight, and as you sit across the table from him, finishing the dish, he speaks so candidly it nearly makes you choke on your last bite.

“would you like to hold hands in the market tomorrow?”

“what?”

zhongli makes a strange face.  he knows you heard him, so why do you also look startled, and are averting your eyes?

he repeats himself nonetheless, and while you do answer him this time, it’s by mumbling under your breath.

“ – odd question,” is how you start, and your boyfriend folds his hands underneath his face, yet doesn’t rest his chin.  “um, sure.  yeah, sure . . . ”

you most definitely do not sound sure, but it’s in a way that further perplexes him.  you look . . . thrilled now?  he can see that you’re refraining from smiling – the corners of your mouth flutter – but why?  zhongli doesn’t recall saying anything that would be good news . . .

“is something the matter?” the archon supplies instead, to which you shake your head.  your hands are in your lap.

“ah, no.  what you said just came out of no where.”  an unconcealed smile from you now, and zhongli finds himself relaxing.  if you’re certain, that’s all he cares about.

he stands up, and prepares to take your dish to the kitchen.  before though, he makes sure to bring you up to your feet, and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“may i kiss you?”  he asks, suddenly, unexpectedly.  he sees you nod, the slight pressing of your lips together, and gives them a quick peck before retreating; zhongli can still taste the slight bamboo left over.

when the two of you draw away, there’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks.  once more, you seem giddy, however this time he doesn’t have to ask why.

“i’ve never done this before.”  there’s trepidation in your voice that causes his brows to furrow slightly.  “so . . . it’s all right if we start out slow, right?”

“of course,” zhongli doesn’t hesitate to respond.  you could mean so many things, and he isn’t sure which you’re referring to: initiating physicality with him, or maybe that you’ve never had a partner before . . . ?  but he doesn't dwell on that.  “your comfort is what matters.”

in the market the next day, zhongli finds comfort in the slight tugs on his coat sleeve from your fingers, and the smile that beams on your visage.

[softluci]

talking to myself

[to begin, i wanna give a TW for mentions of m/rder, as well as s/icide and s/icidal jokes and thoughts; i know that i personally make a lot of jokes like these and so do a lot of my friends and people in general, but i also know that this can be really triggering for a lot of people, so if you are one of those people, this is not the post for you. take care of yourselves.] 

i’m, like, 100% sure that this is something associated with younger people, but in case it isn’t, i’ll just talk about myself. so, i talk to myself a lot. like, a lot. even more than i used to now that i’m alone a lot of the time. and the things that i say (and my friends also say), while they have no basis in reality, they are thoroughly unhinged. and i know that. but! i also find it incredibly funny and i wanted to do a set of headcanons for an mc who talks to themselves like that. some examples of things i say, some of which are things i picked up from my friends, include: 

“you’re sick” (/neg) “this is deranged” “the derangement” “i am insane” “i can’t take it anymore” [sobbing] “this is getting annoying, i need a fucking gun.” “i’m gonna kill myself and ruin everyone’s day.” “and it’s like, why, you know?”  “i’m gonna start killing people” “oh my god, i’m totally buggin” “get the FUCK—” “every day, i am provoked to rage” [unprovoked, uncontrollable laughter] “this reality...it wants me to be a murderer.” “i will kill.” “i don’t wanna” “it’s an illness that you have” “i would kill myself in front of you and permanently alter the trajectory of your life.” “it is time for the immense power of violence.” “don’t make me get violent~” “okay so just die then.” “i’m gonna rip you apart with my teeth.” “i’ll just die, that’s fine.”  and so on, and so forth. 

this is kinda long, but whatever, mc is gn, let’s have fun.

lucifer 

lucifer liked to think that he’d gotten used to you and your tendency to speak with little to no thought. he didn’t love this about you, but he certainly learned to expect it as the days went by. what he didn’t know, however, was that you talked to yourself. his guess was that you’d been refraining from doing so around him, as there was literally no other explanation for what had just happened to his state of being.

he was on his way to the kitchen, just to get some coffee before heading back to his office, when he heard something hit the floor. it didn’t sound like anything broke, so he wasn’t too concerned, but, nevertheless, he quickened his pace. 

he was not prepared for what you said, nor the venom you said it with, as he heard—

“this reality...it wants me to be a murderer, an instrument of evil...fine.”

you definitely weren’t expecting him to approach you as quickly as he did and grab your chin the way he did, but he was making sure you weren’t possessed. upon finding out that, no, you weren’t possessed, you’d just dropped a spoon, he took about seventeen points of psychic damage. 

mc, he is old and tired and he’s not used to this new flavor of humans who like to say the most deranged things they can think of whenever they’re slightly inconvenienced. you are shaving decades off of his life. he can’t tell you to refrain from doing that because you have been, so he is going to take it upon himself to try and make your life easier whenever he can. hopefully it’ll work, and you won’t be moved to unhinge yourself from your sanity the next time you make a small mistake. 

mammon

mammon is around you often enough to know that you talk to yourself every now and again. nothing too out of the ordinary, maybe some comments about the homework you were working on or whatever you were doing on your d.d.d. he was also around you often enough to know that the things you said weren’t always well thought-out, or thought-out at all. he wasn’t judging, he had no place to, he knew that, but—you know, he can’t say he was prepared for this. 

he was on his way to your room, as per usual, when, as he got to your doorway, you were overcome by something vile and you said, “i will kill.”

he has never burst into your room faster. he’s in your face, he’s yelling, his hands are on your shoulders, he’s this close to thrashing you around in hopes that whatever evil crawled inside of you while he wasn’t looking will come flying out—

what...did you say? you made a mistake on your homework? you made a mistake on your homework and your next course of action was to make anyone in a 300 foot radius think you’re possessed? you’re more boneheaded than he thought, and you should feel ashamed at this moment because this is the resident bonehead speaking. moving on, though. 

how can he make you into a happier person overall so that this doesn’t happen? if you don’t know, he’ll just attach himself to your hip so he can find out. congratulations, he’s never leaving you alone.

levi

levi is no stranger to saying things he doesn’t mean in moments of stress—this is just what happens when a person spends a lot of time playing games online. he’s said some pretty off-color things during matches, strings of curses, and the like, but he has never said, nor heard anything like what just left your mouth.

“i’m gonna start killing people.”

at first, he didn’t really react, giving you a quick glance and asking, “in the game, right?”

upon being met with silence, he looked to see you gripping your controller too tightly to actually use it, and asked again, “in the game, right?”

you blinked, apparently freed from whatever rage induced trance you slipped into, and turned towards him, “did you say something?”

he blinked at you once, twice, like the gears in his head were turning, and then—hysteria. 

he has you pinned to the floor with your wrists above your head, horns protruding from his scalp, and he is screaming—who are you, what have you done with mc, tell him your name before he summons lotan, leave his friend alone, and so on and so forth. he was interrogating you before you could even process the situation enough to feel fear. 

once he got over the bulk of his panic, he heard you screaming back at him, telling him it was you, you weren’t possessed, just talking to yourself, and let go of your wrists before he breaks them—he understood, kind of. he has no idea why you’d choose a phrase like that for when you’re annoyed, but at least you weren’t possessed! his henry was safe after all ^_^

he was so relieved that it took him a few seconds to realize he was still…pinning you down…and straddling you…so, naturally, more hysteria.

satan 

he’d actually grown fond of you and your tendency to speak with no thought or regard for the consequences of your actions—mainly because it stressed lucifer out, but he was fond of it nonetheless. it made you all the more interesting, more fun to talk to, and it helped him read you better. he liked to pick you apart by way of conversation, and he liked to do it as often as possible. 

presently, he was on his way to the library to meet you. the two of you were set to talk about a series you decided to read together. as he approached the doorway, he heard your voice, but no one else’s. he smiled in place of a laugh. were you talking to yourself? how cute—

“every day...i am provoked to rage unimaginable. why?” 

before you could even finish exhaling, he was above you, holding your face in his hands. from the glow of his eyes, you could tell he was barely keeping it together, but you had no idea what was wrong. did he hear what you said?

he said your name carefully, swiping his thumbs under your eyes. “have we been spending too much time together?” 

he was rubbing off on you, in the worst possible way. how could he have allowed this to happen? what has he done to you? where did this anger of yours come from? it has to be because of him. it would hurt, but he would distance himself from you at once, if that’s what—

“ah, did you hear what i said? i talk to myself like this all the time, satan, i’ve been doing it since before we even met. sorry if i frightened you.” 

he blinked, hands dropping to your shoulders. he was relieved, but so, so confused. 

“well,” he started, “then let’s talk about that instead.” 

asmo 

if you’d been refraining from talking to yourself around lucifer, you definitely did it for asmo too. there was no one in this house who wanted to see you angry less than he did. anger was such an ugly emotion, wasn’t it? he much preferred sadness; it was easier to manage, both in himself and others. 

of course, he could never think about being angry or sad when he was with you! how could he, when he’s with one of his favorite people? presently, he was on his way to your room to pick you up for one of your weekly outings. oh, you left the door open for him and everything! he was about to call out to you, but then he heard you talking to someone—he had no idea who it possibly could’ve been because he had no idea you could even sound like that when speaking to a sentient being. 

“i will rip you apart with my fucking teeth.” 

he had his arms around you before you even knew he was in your room. it seemed like a hug, and in a way, it was! the intent was to keep you in place so you couldn’t run away, rather than to comfort you, but it’s not like you could tell; his arms were around you all the time anyway.

“mc, light of my life, apple of my eye, who are you talking to?”

you twisted in his hold to face him, “i talk to myself all the time, asmo, you can ask anyone.”

he hummed, staring at you for a while before changing his hold on you into an actual hug. 

“you had me worried for a minute, darling~”

he didn’t really believe you, but he figured he would know if you were lying, and he could definitely handle whatever vile thing wormed its way into you while nobody was looking. best case scenario, he really didn’t have anything to worry about, and worst case scenario, you started speaking in tongues in the middle of majolish. if the latter happened to occur, he was strong enough to purge a lower demon from your body. it might hurt a lot a little , but at least you’d be safe!

beel 

for the most part, beel didn’t feel any particular way about your inclination to say words with no thought behind them. it was just something you did, like anything else was; he accepted it the same way he accepted everything else about you because that’s what friends do for each other. however—he would be lying if he said you didn’t upset him at times. 

like today—he was set to do his homework with you, on his way to the living room with an armful of snacks, when he heard something like the tip of a pencil breaking. it didn’t bother him, but it seemed to bother you. a lot. 

“i—i’ve had it, i’m gonna kill myself and ruin everyone’s goddamn day.” 

all of his snacks scattered across the floor when he dropped them to get to you. his hands were on your shoulders, but he wasn’t grabbing you. fortunately (or, unfortunately), belphie did this around him all the time, so he knew what to do, albeit it wasn’t much. 

slowly, he pulled you into a hug. not a crushing one, but enough to keep you from going anywhere. 

you started to explain yourself, telling him you do this all the time, that you didn’t mean it, that you were fine. it did nothing to reassure him because those were all of belphie’s usual phrases, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

“i know,” he started, pulling away from you. “i’m just making sure you don’t go anywhere. i like having you around. that’s all.”

belphie 

alright, this house isn’t big enough for the two of you. he is the vocally unwell person around these parts, he is the one who everyone is concerned about at all times, thank you very much. he was the one who made the jokes about death. he was the one with the concerning one-liners. that was all him. he wasn’t proud of it, he didn’t like the fact that things were this way, but it was what it was. he didn’t want you to be like him, and yet, there you were doing exactly that—even if you didn’t know. 

he was in your room, in your bed, actually— unbeknownst to you—because he was having trouble sleeping. you were somewhere in the house, on your way there, and once you arrived, it seemed like you were stressed. he didn’t know for sure, but he had a hunch that something was just eating away at you because as soon as you came in the door, you threw your bag on the ground and said—

well, you didn’t say anything, at first. the first thing you did was laugh. it was unrestrained, loud, and completely void of joy. and then, you said, “i can’t—i can’t fucking do this, i’ll just die, that’s fine, that’s okay.” 

he sat up faster than he has in the last century, deciding to be merciful and overlook how hard you gasped when you saw he was there. 

“belphie? why are you in my room?” 

he stood up, approaching you at a snail’s pace, “i couldn’t sleep, i was waiting for you, next question—why did you say what you just said?” 

before you could even start your usual explanation—you do this all the time, it’s fine, you’re fine—he was speaking again. 

“and don’t—don’t even try that, ‘it’s fine, ask anyone,’ shit with me, that’s my go-to, so you’re gonna have to come up with something new.” 

he looked at you expectantly, reaching behind you to close the door, locking it soon after. 

“belphie—”

he pulled you to your bed, falling onto it with you and holding you in place. 

“i have been doing this for much longer than you, and i will be doing it for a long time after you. i’d like to postpone the latter for as long as possible, so i would appreciate it if you talked to me.”

[herenortherenearnorfar]

This Tornado Tolerates And Respects You

A little story about Gothmog and orcs that I’ll probably put on other sites later. But for now, a tumblr exclusive! CW for the terrible reproductive politics of evil (implied reproductive coercion, forced childbearing, light eugenics), orc awfulness, disdain for incarnates, radiation poisoning, chemical weapons, Fingon’s fate, mentions of cannibalism, malnourishment, ear cropping, and all of the above with the implied harm to children.

Orcs, Lord Melkor’s special pet project, a blasphemy first and a strategic asset second, didn’t make the best troops. They could swarm over a target in a useful mass of bodies but they lacked skill and drive. For the Captain of Angband’s own force of fire and shadow, spirits sprung free from the tyranny of the Valar, orcs were a sea of troublesome bodies, cluttering up the field of battle. More flesh to whip through, barbed wire quick, more lungs to choke with lime gas. An annoyance, not an ally.

He didn’t have very high expectations of them as a source of soldiers and there were very few individual orcs who he respected. Gorfaunt was one of those rare exceptions.

They’d fought on the same battlefield under the taunting stars, in those blissful days before the heavens changed, and he’d been impressed by the orc commanders ability to marshal troops. Very few in that division ended up trampled beneath Balrog feet. Even the retreat was prompt, almost orderly, without sacrificing that wild spirit which was one of the orcs’ few redeeming qualities.

When it came time to capture the stripling-king of the elves he’d requested Gorfaunt’s orcs in particular. Once again they’d proven their mettle and the commander had become of of the Captain’s favorites. If orcs had to be stationed next to their betters it was preferable that it be Gorfaunt’s orcs, who knew how to comport themselves and could fight near Balrogs without dying in droves.

Now with the latest glorious battle (and another successful collaboration, the Captain still glowed at the memory of the Noldor’s latest king cracking open to spill his red insides over his silver banner) behind them and Lord Melkor demanding Nargothrond and Gondolin, they met once a month to strategize, share intelligence, and complain about everyone else. To an outsider they might have passed as friends. There was less formality between the two of them than another high general of the iron fortress might have demanded, they sat at the same table and spoke freely.

(The Lieutenant still asked commanders to bow before him; that was why even his own troops called him Sauron behind his back. Gothmog was a superior appellation, less insulting, more fearful, but he still didn’t hasten to encourage its use.)

Despite their surface level amicability and the handful of tried-and-true inside jokes—mostly having to do with how enemies had died— they could bat at each other, they knew very little about each other’s lives. Meat and smoke only mixed when making a brisket, trying to relate two such different ways of being seemed impossible.

But when he saw Gorfaunt waddling into their monthly kvetch with a belly round and swollen like a tick’s, the Captain felt driven to say something. He was the marshal of Angband, he couldn’t let his king’s forces go to seed.

“Are you ill? Cursed?”

Gorfaunt managed to pull out a chair, made for a Balrog three times the size of an orc, and hoist themselves into it with rangy arms. “No? Just five months with a baby kicking around in my insides. The little bugger’s finally starting to show itself.”

That took a second to decipher. “You’re having a baby?”

Of course the Captain knew the basics of how incarnates made more of themselves. It was a topic of great fascination in the old days, when Yavanna was first figuring the system out, and of course the Lieutenant would prattle on about warg breeding to anyone who’d listen. They had sex— another thing that did not come naturally to beings of spirits, though some Maiar had made astounding progress in the field, for pleasure was pleasure and even Nienna’s acolytes sought catharsis and comfort—then there was lots of squishy biology on a level invisible to the incarnates themselves, then a little parasite was somehow blessed with Erú’s fire, to be nurtured until it could nurture itself.

He also knew that orcs, like elves and dwarves, had little distinction between men and womenfolk. Useful when it meant you could channel your entire adult population to battle. Startling when you realized that a key ally had been quietly pregnant for months without you, a greater being able to perceive stalactites growing and the scales on insect wings, noticing.

In truth he’d been doing a lot less noticing of late. His senses were dulling. Perhaps it was the light of the cursed gems, which painted everything in blinding, indistinguishable holiness. Or he was just losing his touch.

If he focused now he could see it. It was easiest to sense on the plane of wraiths. There was Gorfaunt, a guttering candle; wheezing, weak. All orcs had that fire, however dim. No one had managed to fully extinguish it though it had been much suppressed. Tucked against her, nearly imperceptible, was a little spark. Not much yet but given tinder and carefully fanned it could grow. “You’re having a baby,” he marveled.

Gorfaunt’s face was… orcs were hard to read at the best of times, bubbling over with noisy pain and anger that obscured their true emotions, prone to skin diseases and horrendous eye infections that muddled their expressions. She didn’t wear her gas mask around him anymore, though most were quick to cover up around any Maia of Morgoth. It helped little, her face was still opaque as the mountain itself. “Yep, Captain.”

“Good?” You congratulated an ally on a new weapon, a new bond, a promotion. Which one was an infant classified as? What was the correct form?

“Hopefully it’ll be over and the little goblin will be in the caves with the old’uns by the time we find either of the cities.” Gorfaunt provided, only barely contextualizing his felicitations. She was chewing on the inside on her cheek; sometimes she would gnaw until she spat black blood. “Terrible time for it. Terrible time. But the high ups are worried about reinforcements down the line, I suppose.”

Orcs came from orcs. It was a fact so simple it barely bore considering. Another department handled it. The new ones just showed up, springy and long limbed, faces still soft and unmarred. “Goblins” he’d heard older orcs call those fresh pale creatures. Barely even monsters, more like stunted, crepuscular versions of the elves and dwarves they fought.

“How much longer?” They had a few good leads on Nargothrond, a promising word about Túrin Turambar. The Captain could not sack that city himself, the honor had already been promised to the sulfurous worm. Apparently they wanted to test the mettle of these dragons. But Gothmog could assign a few good orc commanders to supervise, make sure the worm was not overstepping his bounds.

Dark blood trickled out of the corner of Gorfaunt’s mouth. “Five months, I’m told. Could be more, could be less. Then I have to wait until the thing is independent enough to leave alone, that’s another few months.” She was probably counting months as the orcs had started to, by the moon. Wretched traitor, Tilion, who’d laughed with them at the idea of running away then turned his face when the time came to flee for freedom. They hated it as much as everyone else but in their hatred they were aware of its cycles. They rejoiced when it went dark.

“You’ll still be able to manage your underlings?” Orcs, and freed Maiar, were fractious. They did not respect a leader who lacked the strength to force them to obey. It could be exhausting. And Gorfaunt was already so round. The Captain did not wish to lose her support over one orcling.

“I think so. So far… in old days you’d den up somewhere for a year, avoid everyone prowling for blood, but I don’t want to fight my way up the ranks again. I’ve got an ax and I’m using it.” Despite that she sounded tired.

Long heartbeats stretched between them, that exquisite embarrassment of two coworkers suddenly forced to talk about private affairs.

“This is your first,” the Captain didn’t reach the tone of a question with that one.

“Yes. The recruiters were getting growly so I grabbed a fellow. I’ve been avoiding it for too long.”

“You don’t want a child.” Again, not quite a question. He was feeling it out as he goes along. This is the longest conversation about orc reproduction he’s ever paid attention to, for the Lieutenants diatribes we’re always dull.

It was no matter to him, except that this was the only orc commander he could tolerate working with and she was chewing through her own cheek in discomfort.

“They take something from you,” Gorfaunt admitted. “Dame and sire both, but worse for the dame since she has to carry the clot. You go… stretchy. Bleached like old bone. I’ve seen soldiers and after twenty children they’re not good for anything but shoving onto a line of pikes. Raw meat for the wargs.”

That didn’t make sense to him, but he was never a scholar of flesh or spirit. He knew how a skull split and how a soul fled, how this matter-sprung life withered, how it died. That was all that counted. He also knew how to value a resource.

“There won’t be any after this,” he said firmly. “Not if you don’t want them.” If need be he’d escalate to Lord Melkor, frame it as sapping strength from their command structure and propose making officers off limits from breeding programmes.

“As you command, Captain,” she said with a bowed head, but she looked gratifyingly relieved, and their conversation could finally move on to the latest stories of occupied territories and the search for the hidden cities.

The next few months Gorfaunt somehow managed to get bigger and bigger, until she was no longer able to swing herself into a chair and had to take their meeting standing. Her leather armor no longer fit and with just a thin layer of rags over her distended stomach it was easy to see the squirming creature inside.

Ferocious little animal. It would go so still and then kick out again, as if it could burst free of its creator by force of will alone. The kernel of its mind was forming too, a hazy bubble of sensation and half formed emotion. He could see what had the Lieutenant fascinated. It wasn’t his field but it was morbidly interesting, seeing the shape of something new and moldable come together right in front of you.

But he had not been made a sculptor or a craftsman. He’d been born a wild thing, a tornado, a volcano, every disaster meant to fell cities, and though he had not known the words yet he’d sensed in his core, seen in glimpses in the song, that he was a creature of war. Like many other wild things—Ossë, the simpering coward tied up in Uinen’s tresses, excluded— he’d found his way to Melkor in the end. Oh, he’d idled for a time with Vána, heard Námo’s dolorous call, but it was Melkor who he came back to and Melkor who he picked in the end.

Melkor taught him so many more ways to be. The smoke, the blood, the screaming not in sorrow but in anger. He taught the others who came to him as well. In the Captain’s little squad alone there was one who learned the slaver’s whip and the threat of fire, one who learned the ooze of pus and malodorous air, one who came to appreciate the ravenings of rabid beasts. From the dragons in the treasure-caves to the cat in the kitchen to the vampires in the highest towers, they were all Melkor’s creations.

Gorfaunt, born and raised here in the shadow of his ancient power, was even more Melkor’s than most. This was how the Captain rationalized his continuing fondness for her as she weakened, his interest in her spawn. Works of the same maker might gravitate together. They could see parts of themselves in each other, the way he could once see himself in other Ëalar born of the same bit of song.

When Gorfaunt came in four months after their revelatory meeting with a sagging belly and a bundle nestled against her chest he was excited to finally see what had been made.

It took a bit of coaxing to get her to show him the baby but no orc would outright refuse an order from anyone stronger than them, they knew better than that. The newborn was dutifully unwrapped and presented, though Gorfaunt’s expression suggested that she considered this all a silly waste of time.

It was a rumpled wet creature; mostly skin and bones, with a cranium as big as its rounded torso. Small too, barely bigger than Gorfaunt’s hand, and Gorfaunt was smaller than all elves and many humans; based on overheard complaints failure to grow was an ongoing issue with their kind. When it was unswaddled sticklike limbs flailed out and began batting at the air ineffectually. Despite this wriggling its face remained in a sleepy scowl. It wasn’t until Gothmog moved one cherry-hot finger closer to it that it opened its hazy grey eyes and tried to focus on him. Even then the dismayed frown stayed put.

An unscarred orc was always an interesting sight; for it revealed the scale of their reworking. How much orcishness was self-replicating, as the Lieutenant liked to claim, and how much had to be beaten in? This one had a droopy brow bone and already peeling corpse-grey skin but it did not look much like an orc besides that. It even had hair, which most orcs lacked (aside from a few lank patches). The fine red down covered its whole body, thickest on the head and face and arms.

“It’s supposed to fall out,” Gorfaunt said, “Everyone says it’ll fall out soon. Even the prisoners lose their hair after a while, especially in the deep mines.”

That was probably because of the miasma of decay that emanated from the ores of Angband. Not macro-decay, of skin and bone (that came later) but the infitesimal decay. Every piece of metal— every piece of existence, when you got down to it— was made of little stars. There was a gaseous center of energy and little orbiting specks around that, spinning in probabilistic loops. Like stars some were bigger and some were smaller and some were ready to collapse. Ilmarë loved to speak of supernovas. The yellow and blue metals below the mountain were full of little stars collapsing, reforming, giving off energy in great sums as they did so.

The Captain had noted the negative effects of this energetic output on incarnates some time ago. Elves sickened and humans just died— Lord Melkor had moved the man he hoped would give him the location of Gondolin far from those mines for a reason. A few of the spirits with natures inclined towards metal, salt, and industry had already incorporated the burning energy into their signatures. The Lieutenant doubtless had some wicked little experiment running with it. It was a part of life here, that background hum of a trillion crumbling particles, and the Captain never thought of the effect on orcs, though they were exposed from birth.

Now that he focused he could see the little crumbs of decay glancing off the baby.

Hmm.

It would probably be fine.

It was already rubbing its eyes and going back to sleep, one hand curled next to a crumpled, not-yet-cropped ear.

“Are you recovered?” he asked Gorfaunt.

“I’m fit enough to fight,” she said shortly, defensively, as if afraid he’d snatch her command from her. “I’ll be better soon when this thing is gone.”

The Captain’s huge palm hovered over her infant. He knew better than to touch; his ability to change forms was not what it once was, he could not stop being a bipedal avalanche, to strong, too close, too dangerous. Even just containing the noxious gases— the pustulent yellow and choking green— simmering inside this war shaped body was difficult. If he kept a few feet distance the chaotic heat of his skin faded into the air and the baby wriggled contentedly in the ambient glow, like a little lizard.

“And how long will that be?”

Gorfaunt’s hand twitched. Another few months, till it can manage worm meal and listen to the grands.”

It seemed impossible that anything could be big enough to leave alone in such a short time; but incarnation was not the Captain’s specialty. “And that’s the accepted practice?”

“A little young, but safe now that the master put a stop to the baby eating problem.”

“I wouldn’t want it to be a concern,” the Captain said very seriously, even though his fingers curled slightly around the baby’s limp body. “We can make modifications if the child must stay longer.”

Gorfaunt glanced down at her sprawled offspring. “I don’t— I don’t want this to last any longer. I’d rather have my life go back to normal.”

That, at least, he could understand. It has been a rather troubling experience overall. Revelations are not always useful and though he’s gained some knowledge it’s not very practical stuff.

“One more question, commander, then I’ll drop the matter. What is it named??”

That nascent mind bubble had sharpened with time and experience but was still comprised mostly of sensation. He could not even grasp at a basic sense of self. The child’s mother should know what if calls itself, if anyone did.

(He wanted to remember the name, for forty years from now, when he needed more good orcs. All those rants about the fundamentals of inheritance left him with some ideas about how incarnates develop traits. Another Gorfaunt would be a helpful tool to have on hand.)

The question left Gorfaunt unimpressed. “It doesn’t name itself anything yet, it hasn’t got the common sense. And no one’s given it a name because it hasn’t done anything interesting.”

“It has an interesting look” the Captain pointed out, “Tell them to call it Red Cap,” he slipped into the elf tongue, which had better color words than the one the Lieutenant devised, and in the process accidentally named the child after a former king of the Noldor. “Or something like that.”

Gorfaunt apparently had a better memory for politics than he gave her credit for, or perhaps just a distaste for the elf cant, because she quickly translated it back into Angband’s crackly tongue . “Rotbint.”

“Yes.” A Balrog, even the chief of Balrogs, could not give much to something so soft and incarnadine. A name, incorporeal, existing in the plane the Captain knew best, was the only thing he could offer. “Now, to business?”

Gorfaunt wrapped the little creature away— it woke halfway through the rolling to stare at them once more— then tucked it against her chest.

The Captain was sad to see it go, though he couldn’t say why.

He remembered that he had come to this physical world for a reason once. He had wanted to see all there was to see, to feel and taste everything, chew chunks of Arda up and spit it out new. Disasters hungered as much as anyone. Yet all he’d had lately was war fare; blood-soaked mud and rage-tinged fear.

Deprived of fresh experiences, he clung to the potential, the novelty, of new life.

Perhaps Gondolin would see him out of his funk, he thought. It couldn’t hide forever.

“We’ll find it, Captain,” Gorfaunt assured him stubbornly. “And we’ll tear it down brick by brick, raze their gardens, fill their streets with blood.”

Even with a baby trying to gum her collarbone her firm tone allowed no questions.

Orcs were, as a rule, bothersome, unruly, walking corpses. Fractious, ugly, difficult, bothersome, recklessly stupid. The Maiar serving under the Captain were sometimes stereotyped as simpleminded brutes but at least they were able to perceive the world around them, even if few bothered to use that perception. In comparison orcs were stumbling around in the dark. They were inefficient as well, you needed three of them to take down any decent enemy. But when they were well made they were well made. Those were the ones that made it all worth it.

It had to be worth it. This was freedom, after all.

[shushiyuii]

Interview with CEO of L’manburg’s RaM! (Part 2 for Subject T0M au)

Part 2! And it’s mainly just important world building and lore dump! Don’t worry there is a moment of fluff in there!

Warnings: Descriptions of experimentation (background on the speciemens), Dehumanisation? That’s about it I think? Lemme know if I should add anything else

Words: 1K (It’s short I’m sorrry)

“Greeting Viewers! And welcome back to L’manburg’s daily talk! Today, we’ve managed to get in contact with The J’Schlatt and get him on the show for an interview! And we’re also joined by one of his associates, Doctor Philza Watson!”.

“Hello!”. “Heya!” Both of them greeted as they waved to the camera. “So, how are you both today?”, “I’d say we’re pretty good, just been working on a lot of things recently”, “Yep-“ Philza snorted, “A lot of things go on in our facility so it does take up a lot of time, this seems like a break honestly!”.

“That’s great to hear! So, we’ve asked our audience for questions for you both today so let us begin!”, “Of course! Send em’ in!”

“Okay firstly, what does your facility specialise in?”. “Really? I thought that one would be pretty obvious!” He playfully pushed Philza to which made Philza laugh.

“We specialise in special research on medicine, we focus our research on specimens that produce chemicals mostly unknown to humans, we research it in order to hopefully use in human medicine to help those who really need it”.

“Great response! Secondly, this is directed towards J’Schlatt, how did you found your company and how did you get so successful?”. “Well, it all started with me and a couple of friends of mine, like Phil here, they did extensive research into medicine and made fascinating results, leading to better treatment.

And with this research, we managed to get noticed by the government, to which they made the offer of funding us for more of our research, to which we agreed, and I took it upon myself as a leader since I was one of them who had studied business practices. And it only took off from there”.

“Ohh- That’s quite fascinating how all of you have come so far!”. “Heh- Yeah I suppose so, some of our friends have left the company since they’ve wanted to focus more on their personal things and families, but we still keep in touch!”. Philza smiled.

“Speaking of families, Phil hasn’t your son started working in the place? I’ve been so busy recently I haven’t been able to meet him yet!”. “Yeah, he has actually! He’s been working really hard, and I’m honestly can’t wait to see what he discovers!”. Philza said proudly, “Can’t wait to meet him then!”. Both them and the interviewer seemed content after that statement.

“That’s lovely to hear! I hope your son is watching this! Then he can see how proud his father is! Now next question, “What have you guys recently been working on?”.

“Oh! That’s a bit confidential for the time being, we are a government facility after all but what we will say is that we’ve recently made a new discovery and have been putting a lot of research into it, hopefully soon enough it could be used for medical purposes!”.

“That’s amazing! Now you don’t have to answer this question in detail if you don’t want to but what about the rumours of monsters roaming your facility?”. “Oh, we can strictly say that we do none of the sorts and other than that it is confidential, my apologies.

(I might as well go into this now, LORE DUMP TIME! L’manburg RaM is a government facility that does in fact work with monsters, but they wish to keep this a secret because they wish to keep their specimens protected from the public eye, if the word were to get out, there’d be mayhem.

And allow me to elaborate on the specimens, the chemicals they research do come from somewhere and in order to research their behaviour on humans, they’re injected into the specimens.

And that’s how Tommy and others were created, they weren’t just experimenting on regular humans though, they don’t have the heart to do that, I won’t spoil too much because I want to write more about this at some point in-depth, but they work with humans who have become tragedy injured or ill and will only do it with the consent of the subjects.)

“That’s completely fine! Don’t worry about it! Now last question, there’s been a recent rumour that your facility is looking for internships?”.

“Ah yes! Phil can go into detail about that!”, “Right so we’ve recently been looking for interns who wish to research just like us at our facility, so we’ve started up this opportunity for university students, not only that but we’ve been meaning to get assistance since there’s quite a low number of researchers.

This program allows these university students to gain a higher position in our facility when graduated or a good look on the resume and such! I’ve personally been looking for a helping hand since a majority of the time I have my hands full, I need somebody who can keep an eye on things for me! So please spread the word if possible!”.

“Glad to hear about it! We look forward to seeing more of your facility’s work in the future! Thank you both so much for taking the time to come to our show tonight! It’s a pleasure to have had you both here tonight!”.

“No, it’s our pleasure, and thank you so much for tonight! We promise that we’ll do our best!”. “That’s all for tonight folks! Hope you enjoyed it!” Was said as the ending of the broadcast was shown with Philza and J’Schlatt walking off stage.

 Back in the facility, he groaned as the interview ended, his father had to embarrass him in front of live TV, didn’t he? Tommy looked over from playing with Shroud, curious about Wilbur’s quick change in mood. He made a questioning groan in response.

Wilbur peaked at the sound of Tommy and rolled back his office chair and rotated it to look at the gremlin, he laughed at Tommy’s expression. “Philza’s such a bitch isn’t he Tommy! He just embarrassed me in front of live TV!”. Tommy bickered back angrily, seeming to disagree with him, he was always a fan of his father when Phil came to visit them.

He smiled and started to have a meaningful discussion with him.

 Meanwhile, “Internship huh? I mean I do have a lot of spare time on my hands, not only that but I am curious about these rumours. Better well sign up!”. He looked forward to what was to come.

[constantlyunlightening]

Work, work, work

Day 15: Cockwarming

Warnings/Other Kinks: Anxiety/Depression implications and mentions (Doppo is just like thattt), Doppo kinda snaps at the end, office sex/sex at work, dubcon (there's not explicit consent in this so I'm going to put it just in case but the reader and doppo are in a relationship and I meant for this situation to be consensual, but Doppo's anxiety in this situation made it seem kind of sus)

I have nothing but Hypmic on the brain. I love feral screaming Doppo. Would highly recommend listening to him belly scream here. :D I really do want the best for this boy tho. I love him so muchhhh.

Disclaimer: 18+ years and older to read. All characters in this work are 20 years or older. This is a fictional depiction of a relationship and is not meant to be mimicked in real life. I do not condone cockwaming your partner in their place of work irl.

It was always work, work, work with him. Well, work and rapping but Doppo hardly ever talked about his Matenro. It was always about his balding asshole of a boss, his terrible coworkers and work, work, work.

You knew he was a workaholic. You knew that when you fell in love with the guy. But geez. Time for him to learn that self care was a priority.

You had stormed to his office after having spent two hours - past the time he was supposed to get off - waiting for him at home. This overtime was bullshit. The man worked himself to the bone. And he didn't know how to say no. You worried about him! It was the reason why you marched right over to the cubicle. The place was deserted, all except for poor Doppo, sitting at his desk pinching the bridge of his nose and surrounded by paperwork.

"What the hell is all this?" You asked as you came up behind him and you almost felt bad watching as the man let out a shout, jumping out of his seat and scrambling like a frightened rabbit. A few of the papers he had on his desk got caught up in his whirlwind and dusted around the room - a fact you assumed Doppo would be disgruntled about later, but he looked far too nervous right now as he took labored breaths and let wide eyes take in your form.

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

".... You're being worked too hard if the sound of your girlfriend's voice is enough to panic you," you quipped back, ignoring his question for now as you bent over to try to help organize some of the scattered documents that had fallen to the floor. Let him have the time to bring his breathing back to normal. You were mainly pissed at his job for overworking him - not so much him. Didn't need to go give him a heart attack. "You're here late again. I was checking in on you." A pile of paperwork stacked against your chest, you moved over closer to him to set it down on the desk and took your time eyeing the assortment of work he had lying around. This couldn't all be his. Some of them must be pawning off their work, and Doppo just so happened to be the biggest doormat around. A sigh heaved from your lips, and you didn't miss the way Doppo shuddered. How could you? The man tensed up like he was being shot by lightening. "Looks like it was a good thing I did too. This work would have kept you here all night if someone didn't come to stop you."

"I'm sorry!" You weren't surprised but the volume of his apology made you jump and as he started to spew off more and more apologies, you quickly grabbed him by the tie and yanked him in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You weren't trying to invalidate his feelings by cutting him off, but there was no reason for him to be panicking like he was. And luckily, kisses from you always seemed to soothe him - at least as soothed as someone like Doppo could be.

"Baby," you purred gently, pulling your lips from his and watching the way his cheeks lit up with a dusting of pink. Always so stressed, this one. But the face he made after you kissed him made your heart flutter. Dumbfounded but he still managed to swoon in subtle ways - those aquamarine eyes zoomed in on you like you were treasure. The simple strokes you gave to his hair made him melt - the tension zapped out of his shoulders and he almost started to slump into you. "You don't have to say sorry. But it's time to go home now. No more work."

That cute daze in his expression only lasted a moment more before it was like all that anxious energy plowed right back into him. The word 'work' was enough to flip a switch with him. "That's not right! I have a whole ton of it!" His arm extended outward, waving at the stacks piled high. "I'm sorry but I have more work to do. I'll finish as soon as I can but - I gotta do this or my crazy boss will pile even more work on me! Or I'll lose my job or worse I-ll-"

"Doppo!" You cut him off and tried to calm him down. It worked to some extent but only enough to keep him from screaming or spiraling into one of his crazes. You didn't convince him to stop working though and eventually you had to settle for watching him drown himself in the work in front of him, trying to suppress your groans.

You loved the man. But really?

Playing the waiting game wasn't something you were interested in though. Which is why, after a bit of working, you somehow managed to not only weasel your way into his lap but you also got his cock out of his pants, stroking it just enough to get him riled up as you watched him try not to panic.

"You can't just do that-"

"I just did. Don't worry. The cameras can't see in here. It's fine," you coaxed, letting him stay nervous anyway as you pushed your panties to the side from underneath your skirt causing him to visibly gulp. But he wasn't pushing you off.

"I have to work," he declared, whispers on the verge of being shouts fell from his lips but cut off into a whimper as the head of his dick was suddenly being warmed up by the heat of your body as you slowly sank down onto him - taking him in inch by inch. 

It wasn't until you were fully seated to the hilt, listening to his breath hitch that you gave a tiny huff. "Then work." And your body stilled. No movement other than the flutter and clench of your walls against your hung lover, letting your eyes watch his flustered face. He clearly didn't know what to say and you watched as his gaze flickered around like a chicken with its head cut off - to your face, to his paperwork, to where your bodies were joined and then anywhere but you. Good. Get him riled up. He was panicking but you could feel him twitch inside of you, like he was anticipating for you to move - waiting for it. But you kept your hips locked in place as you leaned in and rested your head on his shoulder. "Work, Doppo. Just giving you some motivation for when you finally get done." Your voice was much to kindly for someone who just pulled somebody's dick out in the middle of a public office. But it managed to keep him from tipping over his brink just yet. Poor thing always got so worked up. Your physical actions may not be helping that necessarily, but your voice always seemed to soothe him over, even if it was only a little at a time. 

"H-how?" You listened to him practically squeak, shifting under you and instantly giving a whine at the slight push against your walls. How was he supposed to work when you were on him like this? How was he supposed to concentrate when you were constricting around him? When you were filling him with molten lava from the bottom up?

With feather light kisses, you trailed a line across his neck, trying to remain still on the cock that was stretching out your insides - forcing the urge to bounce on him like a pogo stick until you both lost even the capability to think of work. You would behave somewhat for now though. Doppo could get his work done. You could get some form of closeness in the meantime. Besides, maybe a good vise grip on him could speed up the process? Or make him say 'fuck it' altogether - hopefully, literally fuck it. "Just work, Doppo. Since it's so important. Ill wait," you cooed, almost as if you were being thoughtful. Too sweet for him to argue and you listened to him give a defeated groan of a sound before he tried to level out his breath and refocus. 

Oh, but that was easier said than done. Doppo had restarted on the paperwork, working around you as your warm body nuzzled into his chest. He usually felt like he was suffocating at work but right now, it felt like your body was trying to strangle the life out of him from somewhere other than the neck. How were you so tight? How come velvety walls were squeezing down on him over and over again without either of you even moving? You were starting to leak out around him, a sticky mess starting to spill out onto his lap slowly - torturous. Maybe you were actually trying to be sweet. Maybe you were actively trying to mess with him. But either way, it was kicking up a bad habit within him. He would reach for another stack, shifting in the chair and causing the tiniest of mewling to escape from your lips. It was a blissful sigh here, a hitched breath there, a tiny hum into his chest and it was going to break him. He was supposed to be focusing but at this rate, he was going to start making mistakes on his work.

You were causing him to silently work himself up. Each climb of his emotions resulted in a string of jitters, and in return had your body clenching even tighter on him. How could you even feel like that? He choked, tugging at his tie to try and gasp for air. You were messing with him. You had to be. You must be mad he wouldn't leave. This was his retribution. To be strangled by your wet cunt over and over without reprieve- without any motion for relief. Well, fuck that. He may love you. But he worked far to hard day in and day out. Pent up didn't even begin to describe it. If you were going to try to rile him up like that, then he would give you riled up because he couldn't take it. Not a second longer. Not with that familiar primal darkness beginning to flare inside him.

His body rocked and you instinctively lifted your head from his chest to peer up at him, the first actual movement he had made since you had sat on him. "Are you okay?"

"O-okay?" He was stuttering his words but unlike his panic from before, this time he sounded angry. It wasn't a tone he took entirely too often. But you knew Doppo. You knew if his buttons were pressed enough, he would snap. He was tea kettle, getting hotter- "how do you except me to be okay-" and hotter "- when your purposely trying to make me-" until he screamed "-loose my fucking mind!?"

You only had enough time to widen your eyes before he flew out of his chair, taking you with him and slamming you onto his desk. The noise he made was positively feral - teetering between a growl and a scream - and without a warning, he was wrecking you, bludgeoning into you with a speed you hadn't even been aware he was capable of. 

"D-D-Doppo!" You were trying to talk but the sudden thrusting was knocking out your capabilities to think. You had been stretched out and horny for a while now but at this pace you couldn't keep up. You were trying to grip at his shoulders for some type of stability. "H-hang on a sec-"

"Hang on?!" He sounded unhinged - a growl ringing in the back of his throat so different from his usual meek - if not panicked - composure. "I've been hanging on! I've been hanging on this whole time! You just had to be on me huh? When I'm at work!" Papers were tossing up into the air around you and you could hear the clatter of the cubicle as he knocked you into the desk over and over. Oh, you couldn't even keep your eyes opening with the way your senses seemed to overload. "All this work - all these damn excuses to pile it onto me - and then you still come in here and give me more work. Too needy? Need my to pound you senseless before I can finish my work? Then that's what I'll do. I'll take you over and over and over again until you're out for days!" He declared, his hands clamping down on your hips and you could already feel the bruises even as the head of his cock shifted up enough to find your sweet spot, leaving you wailing out. "Again and again and again!" He got louder and louder with his sounds, growls and grunts turning into wanton groans and gasps as he split you in two. 

This would teach you not to mess with him at work. Or maybe it would teach you to mess with him more.

[ilalos]

Lavender dreams (Anthony Bridgerton x OC)-Part 1/3

Word count: 3.1k

Anthony stormed into his office after breakfast with his mother following close. The proper introductions were made when Miss Grace, or Gigi as she preferred to be called, entered the dining room; he had ignored the little somersault that attacked his heart when he made eye contact with the young girl and instead of acknowledging the feeling chose to finish eating as soon as humanly possible and left the table in a haste.

“How could you not notify me of this visit mother? The responsibility of finding her a suitable match falls on me and I know nothing about this girl, do you?” he tried to keep his voice down, but the exasperation he felt still showed in the form of harsh whispers.

“I didn’t tell you because I know she won’t have a problem finding a suitor that would be interested in her” Violet sat down tiredly looking at her exasperated son.

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“Well, she is an only daughter to a wealthy man, she is a well-read young woman and an amazing piano player, not to mention her dowry is obviously substantial” she gave him a pointed ‘I told you so’ glare “and of course, she is beautiful”

“Even worst then, we’ll have to make sure that whoever marries her-“

“We won’t do anything but I’ll make sure she loves the man she chooses to marry and he does her, that was Rose’s wish and that’s what I’ll do” she stood up not wanting to hear any more of her son’s antics.

Meanwhile, in the drawing-room things seemed to be running smoothly as Gigi read a novel and Eloise sat next to her reading the latest Lady Whistledown, while Benedict draws the pair in his sketchbook.

“Ugh! I can’t believe tomorrow is the day where our whole future is defined by the judgment of the queen” Eloise couldn’t keep her discontent in after reading the suppositions of who could be this season’s Incomparable “Can you believe it? Tomorrow our settling down begins” she sighed dramatically.

“Stop scaring the girl, Eloise” Benedict chastised with a smile, not looking up from his sketch.

“It’s not like I have a choice on the matter, so I try not to worry too much about it” Gigi gave her a small smile as if trying to comfort her.

“Right?! Society makes us feel like we have no choice, we either settle for a boring man who will hopefully be interesting enough to-“

“I don’t think she meant that she is pressured by society, dear sister” chuckled Benedict

“Oh, then pray tell me what you meant Grace”

“My father is very ill” started Gigi with a sad look as she let the book fall on her lap “I’m his only daughter and he wishes to see me married and in love before his passing”

Silence filled the room after Gigi finished speaking, she picked her book back up and resumed her reading when Eloise’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet atmosphere.

“You could marry one of my brothers, you know?” She said it more as thought said out loud than an actual suggestion and it caused Benedict to loudly scratch his pencil against the paper of his drawing.

“I don’t think that would be a wise suggestion sister” he racked his brain trying to come up with a way to explain how adamant he was on NOT getting married anytime soon “I for one wouldn’t want to be the brother in question, no offense Gigi”

“None taken” she giggled “I understand where you’re coming from Eloise but neither of your brothers seems prepared, or willing, to get married this season”

“Well it’s your loss, these dimwits may not look like much but they are somewhat intelligent and also very desirable matches according to Lady Whistledown”

“Well isn’t this a warm welcome?” Colin's voice startled the siblings and their guest as they didn’t expect him to arrive for another month.

Benedict was the first to stand and embrace his brother while his sister seemed to be torn between welcoming Colin and running to the Featherington’s residency to notify her best friend of his arrival, she knew Penelope would appreciate learning the news before the whole ton started whispering about it or even worse reading about it the next day. Standing up she chose to run to her friend’s home and also drag her guest along to not leave her alone with her brothers who were already deep in conversation.

“Tell mother we will be back for lunch!” She ran to the door with an iron grip around Gigi’s wrist only stopping to give a quick “Welcome home brother!”

“It was lovely to meet you!” That was all Gigi managed to get out before being dragged through the streets of London towards the Featherington home.

/////Time jump\\\\\

The picnic had gone wonderfully and Violet could not have been happier, surrounded by all her children and one grandchild. For a moment she forgot the expectations, the pressure of the next day’s events that signified the start of a new season that would, hopefully, be less dramatic than the last.

The men chatted about Colin’s travels as all the older men had already taken the same voyages, in way less innocent intents than him (read: brothel tour) as he seemed truly interested in the culture, the sights, and the history of the places he visited. Of course, he had met many women on his travels and he had laid with some of them but of that, he wouldn’t speak in such proximity to his mother and sisters.

Later that evening the girls had gone to pick up their debut dresses accompanied by the duchess to get as much advice as possible in how to be the Incomparable of the season, Daphne truly didn’t know how she had achieved that and if she had to be completely honest she only went to spend some time with her sister.

When the girls arrived back at the Bridgerton home, Violet decided it would be early supper and early bedtime for everyone because tomorrow was a crucial day for everyone’s life. Lady Bridgerton knew she couldn’t control what her sons would get up to in the late-night but she would make sure that her debutants were well rested before their presentation to the queen, and she made sure of it by personally escorting them to their shared room and verifying they had in fact gone to bed.

Way past the middle of the night Gigi woke up with a start after having a nightmare about her mother’s death, tears were running down her cheeks and her heart was hammering inside her chest so fast it was almost painful. She quickly looked to Eloise’s sleeping form and breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed that the girl had not been awakened by her. Slowly and quietly Gigi got up from the bed and grabbed her robe, she needed some fresh air to calm down and maybe some milk.

Little tears were still falling from her eyes as she walked to the kitchen but the hammering of her heart had subsided by now, as she passed the office she noticed light coming from the room and with a frown, she went to see who was there at this ungodly hour. It was Anthony who was hunched over his desk holding an almost empty cup of liquor, his other hand supporting his head and messing his once perfectly combed hair, he was looking at some papers that were carelessly thrown over the desk surface with a deep frown.

“Lord Bridgerton is everything okay?” she knew she should’ve just continued her path to the kitchen but seeing him so concerned made her feel a dull ache in her chest.

He was startled by her voice, almost dropping his cup and lifting his head so quickly he got a little dizzy. He took a good look at her and realized a couple of things: first, she had been crying, and second, even in the simplest of robes with dried tears on her cheeks she looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“Miss Gillingham what are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing” she hadn’t meant to sound so sassy but her sleepy brain couldn’t process much formality at the moment.

“It’s nothing that concerns you” he said it with no intention of being harsh but her small wince let him know it came out that way “may I ask you, where were you heading to before stumbling into my office?”

“I was on my way to the kitchen to heat some milk, couldn’t sleep”

“I could help you with that” he surprised even himself with the suggestion because he knew he couldn’t even turn on the stove “stay here, I’ll go to the kitchen, it’s no place for a barefoot lady to be in”

She blushed and looked down at her feet that were in fact bare. He got up from his desk and walked up to where she was standing by the door, he gently pulled her inside the room and guided her to sit on the couch, silently instructing her to stay there before taking his leave for the kitchen. After he left she decided it would be nice of her to refill his drink, she grabbed the liquor bottle that sat atop one of the many papers on the desk and poured it in the cup. She knew she shouldn’t be reading what was written on the papers but her eyes couldn’t help but wander around the surface and soon realized what troubled Anthony, someone was stealing from the family.

“You didn’t need to do that, I could’ve poured it myself” she jumped a little when she heard his voice.

“Nonsense, you went into the trouble of getting me...cold? Milk” she had one look at the small glass bottle he held in his hand with a small smile.

“Ah yes” he chuckled “I didn’t want to bother a kitchen maid so cold milk it is”

“I appreciate the gesture Lord Bridgerton” she took the bottle from his hands as he approached her “I understand you not wanting to wake any of the kitchen staff as one of them is clearly stealing from you”

“What are you talking about? Such accusations are not to be said in such a lightly manner”

“I apologize, sir, I didn’t mean to anger you” she looked down at her feet and tears welled her eyes once again.

“What makes you think one of our kitchen staff is stealing from us?” He was genuinely curious about her answer, not sure if he’d believe it but nonetheless curious.

“Here” she pointed to a piece of paper and his breath hitched at her proximity “it says that you bought 50 baguettes from the bakery today”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well I saw your table this morning and there were no baguettes there, in the picnic he had croissants and for dinner, there were, again, no baguettes” she felt proud of the way he looked down at her in what could only be described as awe “Baguette is a bread that must be eaten within the same day it is bought as it will get stale rather quickly, it is also an incredible amount of bread for a relatively small family to eat” she completed her explanation and stepped back to give him room to see it for himself.

“I believe you are correct but I must know, how did you know this?” All Anthony could think about was how wonderful it would be to have a wife that could understand such concepts of family economy.

“The same thing happened at our state a couple of years back, our housekeeper claimed to buy enormous quantities of food to get the extra coin herself”

“Who caught her?”

“My mom” she smiled “She said men would’ve never noticed because they had no idea how a kitchen works, she did and she taught me that being a good wife meant not only raising the children but also making sure everything in the home is working how it's supposed to, among other things”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman” he wanted to embrace her with how small and sad she looked but he refrained from doing so, it would be highly inappropriate.

“She was” a yawn tore through her and she suddenly realized just how tired she was “Well good night Lord Bridgerton, thank you for the milk”

He took the vessel from her hand, set it gently on the table, and offered his arm to accompany her to the door.

“Goodnight to you too, and please call me Anthony”

She looked up at him one last time before turning and padding to her bedroom as quietly as she could. Meanwhile, Anthony sat back at his desk and chuckled in disbelief, he had spent the past three hours trying to know where the sudden increase of expenses had come from and she had solved it after mere seconds of looking, she truly was a wonderful woman and would be an even better wife. He couldn’t help but think for a brief moment that she could perhaps be a wonderful wife for him.

Morning came quicker than expected and the house was filled with running maids preparing baths, horses being brushed, and food being made. Anthony fired their housekeeper, Violet wanted to kill him as he chose to do so at the worst possible time and that forced her to make her personal maid the housekeeper to keep things running smoothly on such an important date. The girls came down with their hair done wearing robes so they could eat before getting dressed, Violet didn’t want them to spill anything on them but most importantly she didn’t want to have either of the girls fainting in front of the queen due to hunger, so breakfast in a robe was the solution.

Disaster hit Lady Bridgerton’s mind as soon as she saw the way her firstborn looked at Grace, he looked at her as if he was in love with her. She had no problem in her son choosing to court the young heiress but it would look terrible if he were to court her while she was staying in their home, it would certainly give the wrong impression. She rose from the table and grabbed her eldest daughter by the elbow prompting her to follow her out to the hallway where she proceeded to explain that she needed her and her husband to take Grace to Lady Dunbury’s house.

“But why? Is our presence bothering you mother?”

“Of course not dearest, but I must get Grace out of the house to avoid a scandal” at her daughter’s confused face she continued “your brother seems to fancy her and I’m afraid if he chose to court her it would look terrible if she was to be living under the same roof as him”

Daphne understood her mother’s reasoning and agreed that it would be quite scandalous for a debutant to live in the same home as the man who courted her. Back in the dining room, the Duke of Hastings was getting worried by his wife’s absence so he ventured into the hallway to find her and her mother speaking in hushed voices.

“My love! I was just about to send for you” Daphne reached her hand out to her husband and he took it with a wary look “My mother has asked us to take over Grace’s season at Lady Danbury’s house, and I wanted to know if that may be possible”

He wanted to say no, he wanted to avoid staying the whole season under the scrutiny of the ton and also that of Lady Danbury, but he couldn’t deny his wife the chance to spend this time close to her family and for her to take such responsibility was a task he knew she wished to do to make her mother proud. So despite wanting to deny such request he smiled and instead said he’d be honored to help her with such task and would make arrangements to speak with Lady Danbury and send their belongings there while they went to de debutants presentation.

The presentation to the queen goes uneventful until Eloise walks in accompanied by her mother, even though she failed to aid in catching Lady Whistledown The Queen admired the young lady and provided her with a nod of approval, which was an enormous statement coming from the monarch. Next walked in Grace with Daphne and to no one’s surprise, she was deemed the Incomparable by the queen with a simple kiss to the forehead.

The news traveled fast and as soon as both ladies arrived at the ball in Lady Danbury’s home their dancing cards were filled with prospects, well Grace’s was because thanks to Anthony’s ‘assistance’ Eloise’s was impossibly blank. Daphne and Simon had decided to allow Gigi to dance with whoever she liked and they would worry about background checks when the dances turned into gentleman callers.

Anthony spent half of his attention taking good care of his sister and the other half was put into painfully watching Gigi dancing with different men, but what hurt the most was seeing that the man that made her smile the most was his own brother. He watched Colin take her first dance and couldn’t help the jealousy coursing through his veins as he saw them smiling and laughing as he twirled her around the dance floor. Perhaps that jealousy is what prompted him to abandon his sister’s side and approach the purple-eyed girl to ask for a dance.

“I’m so sorry Anthony but my dance card is full for the night” she was truly apologetic even though she had no way of knowing the eldest Bridgerton would want her to save a dance for him.

“May I see it?” He read through the list of names and chose to scratch over Benedict’s name knowing his brother had saved himself a dance with the girl only to save her from another dance with an impossibly boring gentleman, so he wouldn’t mind giving his dance up to his older brother.

“Is that allowed?” She asked with a smile.

“It is when he’s your brother” he dropped the card and handed back her pencil “Do me a favor and save me a dance on the next ball, and all others after that” with a final smile he left her to dance with the next gentleman and went back to his sister’s side.

Part 2

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I wanted to write this in 1 part buuuuut it came out longer than expected 😬 It’ll probably be like a 3-4 part story. If you took the time to read this I appreciate you :):):):):):):):):)

[connorandersons-blog]

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed Characters: Connor, Gavin Reed Additional Tags: Connor Has ADHD, Oral Fixation, Stim Toys, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Gift Giving, Deviant Connor, Post-Pacifist Best Ending, Semi-Public Sex, Bathroom Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Public Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, Getting Together

Summary:

Everyone knew Connor put things in his mouth constantly, it was just a fact of life at this point. He mostly did so while investigating, which Gavin had had the curse (or pleasure) of seeing many times. It got Hank to curse, which was pretty funny, and it made Gavin think things he shouldn't, which was very much not funny.

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Everyone knew Connor put things in his mouth constantly, it was just a fact of life at this point. He mostly did so while investigating, which Gavin had had the curse (or pleasure) of seeing many times. It got Hank to curse, which was pretty funny, and it made Gavin think things he shouldn't, which was very much not funny.

Gavin had complained too, trying not to stare at the android who just blinked innocently up at him, because of course he always crouched down when he did it. There was no way the fucker didn’t know exactly what he made people think of when he pulled shit like that.

Then came the pens and pencils Connor would stick in his mouth while at the precinct. It was actually pretty cute for the most part, not that Gavin would tell Connor that, but it was so very human of him to chew on pencils when he was thinking. It was always amusing when Connor would break a pencil, but it was absolutely hilarious when he’d break a pen.

The first time it happened Gavin hadn’t been able to hold back his laughter at the way the ink covered Connor and his mouth. He’d pouted so hard that Gavin felt pretty bad and even went to drag a few paper towels from the break room.

He came back to see Connor yanking his tie off and undoing the buttons on his shirt with his dainty fingers. Gavin was completely frozen, blue screened, for a few seconds before he shook himself and continued to walk the rest of the way. He shoved the towels at Connor before storming away, cursing about useless androids and their mindlessness.

He kept his head down, ignoring the fact that Connor was stripping out of his shirt right there in the middle of the bullpen. He saw a few other officers stop and stare, but Connor paid them no mind at all.

After the fifth time in two months, Gavin had had enough. It wasn’t the fifth time breaking a pencil, nope, this was just pens, and Connor chewed on those a whole lot less than he did pencils, so that was saying something.

He wasn’t getting him these things because he liked Connor (he didn’t), or because he wanted to be his friend (he really didn't, don’t look at him), it was just… pity and a bit of understanding.

Gavin remembered in school when he’d tap his pencil against the desk relentlessly, or bounce his leg until he thought it would fall off. His fellow students would glare at him and his teachers told him to go see the counselor about possible ADHD. Turns out it was more than just that because mental illness was a buy-one-get-three-free kind of deal.

So he saw a bit of himself in Connor with how he couldn’t sit still or would lose track of time so much that he would stay days and nights at the precinct when a case was hard and caught his interest.

Connor obviously liked using his mouth (which sounded so wrong and brought up so many ideas) but pencils and pens surely weren’t good for him either. Plus the precinct was running out of supplies and something needed to give.

The first one he'd bought Connor was a pencil that wasn’t actually a pencil. It was harder (he might have gotten this one specially designed) so Connor wouldn’t chomp through it (hopefully), but completely safe to stick in a mouth.

The next he got was a necklace that looked like a giant coin, because he’d seen Connor doing tricks with the coin he had. He hated to admit it, but the tricks were pretty damn impressive considering he could still do it absentmindedly and while walking.

The last was another necklace that looked almost like a black ouroboros, though the site called it a Phoenix. It was the hardest they had but also had texture too which he hoped Connor wouldn’t hate.

It was hard finding a time to drop them off at Connor’s desk, but one day he’d gone to lunch with Hank, so Gavin took his chance. He wrote a quick note, trying to disguise his handwriting but if Connor did his weird android analysis thing there would be no way he wouldn’t be able to tell. The note just explained these were chewable and wouldn’t make a mess. He didn’t dare add the stupid heart he was so tempted to draw like some blushing school girl.

Then he sat back at his desk and waited. He tried to appear busy at least when Connor showed back up, even as he was almost shaking with nerves. What if Connor hated it or made him self-conscious? What if Connor hated him for it, even if Connor had said he’d never hated him after Gavin had managed to apologize a year after the revolution.

He felt like he needed a stim toy with how he was gnawing on his bottom lip as Connor’s eyes widened when he saw the small box on his desk. He picked up the note that rested on it, tilting his head as he read it. He glanced up, scanning around the room never meeting anyone’s eyes. Gavin was watching from the corner of his and tapping at the computer in what he hoped to be a convincing mimicry of typing a case report.

Connor set the note down carefully before pulling the bow apart, because if Gavin was going to give a gift then he’d go all out. His mom taught him how to tie bows like that and he was rather proud, thank you very much. Connor lifted the lid and gasped, pulling out the coin first. He flipped it over in his hand, probably scanning it to see what it was made of.

He glanced around again but this time nervously as if thinking someone was watching him (Gavin was but he didn’t count), before bringing it up and biting down. He nibbled on it a few times, before grinning and setting it down. Ok, that was one and it went pretty well.

He picked up the pencil next and let out a small giggle, before covering his mouth. Fuck that was adorable, but Gavin made no move to show or tell Connor so.

He scanned over this one as well, before bringing it to his lips and into his mouth. He bit down, androlled it around in his mouth like he sometimes did with actual pens. Then he started to actually suck on it and Gavin realized this was a very bad idea.

Thankfully Connor didn’t waste too much time with that one, setting it down to pull out the last. He tilted his head again, rubbing his finger over the ridged designs before sticking this one in his mouth too. He let out a pleased sound that made Gavin have to shift in his seat slightly, almost choking on his own spit as he tried to swallow.

At least he seemed to like all of them, and when Connor actually put the necklace on for the black one Gavin felt a buzz of happiness that always came from giving a good gift.

Connor picked up the note again and fuck, Gavin stood and ran to the break room. Maybe if he wasn’t in view, then Connor would just ignore his existence and not figure out it was he who sent it.

He made himself a scalding hot cup of coffee, not adding anything at least for now. Though sometimes he’d add a bit of sugar from the packets he’d keep in his desk for the special occasion of needing it to be a little tastier. He hoped it was enough time for Connor to fuck off and get back to work.

He flopped down onto his chair with a huff, running his hand through his hair. It had been a long day and he’d barely even done any work, but maybe now he could get back on track. He did spare a glance at Connor who was–fuck, he was looking at him already.

Gavin steeled himself, ready for whatever that tin can had to say about the gifts, but instead, Connor smiled a bit lopsidedly before turning to talk with Hank. That was… not what he was expecting. It made his stupid heart flutter a bit seeing that adorably dorky smile directed at him, but he chugged some of the coffee and it made it better.

He should have realized how bad of an idea it was to get Connor those toys because the man never let them go and always had them in his mouth as long as it wasn’t at a bad time. No one commented, all of them used to seeing weirder shit, and they all knew this was better than pens breaking. Plus plenty of them was gen z and just as mentally weird as everyone else so stim toys were pretty damn normal.

But Gavin was regretting it because of the blissful look on Connor’s face as he sucked on the fake pencil or held the black phoenix in his mouth. He was probably tracing over the lines with his tongue which wasn’t a thought he needed to think about in detail.

Sometimes Connor would even make these small sounds like a pleased cat or dog when he was chewing on the toys. Gavin was very glad he liked them (the hot cups of coffee with sugar in them that was left on his desk showed just how grateful Connor was), but watching him was killing Gavin.

He was getting boners more than some teenagers did and it was hard not to just do something about it. He’d imagined yanking Connor in to kiss him, making him make those damn sounds because of Gavin’s lips and tongue teasing him and not some toy. He had dreams of Connor initiating and asking if he could use his mouth on Gavin in every way possible. Those mornings when he comes in he can’t even glance Connor’s way, terrified he’d somehow know what his mind was filled with.

But Connor was ever innocent and unknowing, which was just plain weird. Wasn’t he supposed to be some high-tech android that could pick up on the tiniest bits of information? If so then was he just willfully ignoring how bad Gavin was lusting after him?

And no it wasn’t a crush, he absolutely totally did not think about taking Connor on dates, holding his hand, moving in together. He didn’t think about curling up on the couch with Connor as Doa cuddled with them too, her purring loud and clear. There were no feelings of romantic nature, and he would keep telling himself that until he genuinely came to believe it.

So it was just him being a friend (he still wasn’t sure they were even friends) and wanting to celebrate finishing his case when he invited Connor to get a drink with him. He’d stuttered over his words, cursing himself for not thinking that Connor might not be able to drink, but he’d said yes anyway.

So while work was finishing up, he was on his phone trying to find a suitable place that was android and human-friendly. There were apparently android drinks that could make them drunk but who knew if that would work on Connor, given he’s a prototype and the best of the best. Gavin wasn’t sure if he had very high standards or just a love for guys who could kick his ass.

He found a place thankfully, the ratings were pretty high and it seemed it was a very popular place for dates, not that this was one. So when Connor walked up to his desk, asking if he was ready, he wasn’t scrambling to figure things out still.

“Yep, got a nice place we can try out. ‘S got some android drinks that make you drunk, which is cool. You don’t gotta drink those if you don’t want to, obviously.” He shrugged on his leather jacket, having taken it off since the damn AC had broken once again, making the whole precinct practically a sauna.

Connor had his own sleeves rolled up, his tie hanging low and the first two buttons on his shirt undone. It was a damn good look on him and Gavin was close to drooling, but he was a little too dehydrated to actually do that, thankfully.

“Oh, I might have one but I’d rather not get drunk.” Connor glanced back at Hank and, oh right. That made sense. “Is Ms. Chen or Mr. Miller joining us?”

Fuck. “Uh, nah neither could make it. Chris has his kids you know? And uh, I think Tina has a date.” He had absolutely no idea if any of that was true given he hadn’t even asked his friends to join them, but it probably wasn’t too far off the mark.

Connor tilted his head before smiling slightly. Damn android and his creepy face that Gavin just wanted to punch in the mouth with his mouth repeatedly and very gently. “Very well, will we be taking your car or a taxi?”

“Uh, I mean you can ride on my bike with me if you want I guess.” It would be another thing to drive Gavin insane but hey, if he’s lasted three months with Connor and those stim toys he could last the fifteen-minute ride with him pressed against his back. Maybe. That, that actually sounded pretty hard to deal with, but surely it wouldn’t be that bad.

It was absolutely terrible. Connor had his arms wrapped around him, his whole front pressed against him with his damn chin on Gavin’s shoulder. At one point he shifted slightly to rest his cheek on Gavin’s back as they waited at a red light and Connor would most definitely be able to hear how Gavin’s heart was racing.

Gavin hoped he’d take it as just the bike being thrilling but Connor had squeezed him just slightly before relaxing again.

Connor didn’t even hold his own hands together in a fist like most people, no he splayed a hand over Gavin’s stomach, the other one far enough around to hold his side a bit. At one red light, Connor had sat back and stretched his arms a bit as his joints would lock up, and when he went to put his hands back the breeze finally decided to kick up. Of course, that meant Gavin’s shirt moved with the wind, and Connor’s hand landed on skin instead of fabric.

He tried not to react but Connor didn’t apologize or move his hand away either, so he surely wasn’t the only one who didn’t mind. His mind strayed to the idea of Connor just slowly trailing his hand down to rest over Gavin’s crotch where there would no doubt be a tent. Gavin would lean back into him, feel Connor's breath on his ear and the warmth of his lips when he’d–he was jolted out of that thought process by a honk that let him know the light turned green a few seconds ago.

He sped off, and thankfully nothing else of notice really happened the rest of the ride, but Connor’s hand did stay against his stomach under his shirt, holding him close.

Connor moved back when they finally parked and neither said a word as they made their way into the bar. The bouncer had barely even glanced at their IDs (or Gavin’s, Connor didn’t need one) before stamping their hands with a green circle.

The bar was dimly lit by modern-looking lights, the music loud enough that people felt the need to dance but not too loud that Gavin would need to shout either. Like all bars, it smelt of beer, sweaty bodies, and food that most only ate so they wouldn’t get overly drunk. A pretty typical-looking bar and Gavin led them over to a few open stools. He’d find them a table once they got their first drinks.

He ordered a beer, though he actually hated drinking beer, because it’s what everyone expected. Maybe he’d toss back something harder later to impress Connor a bit at how well he could take it down. Fuck, he wasn’t even drunk yet and he was already thinking these things.

Connor got himself a drink, naming off something from the board that was labeled for androids, and then the two found themselves a table a little ways away from the music.

Gavin took a few sips, trying not to scrunch up his face at the terrible taste and smell. Honestly, how could anyone stand this stuff?! “How’s your drink?”

Connor took a careful sip of his before jolting slightly, staring down at his drink in awe before taking another sip. This one he holds in his mouth for a few seconds, eyes wide before swallowing. “It feels good!”

Gavin blinked at him before scoffing. “I think you mean it tastes good.” Stupid android already getting tipsy from one small sip.

“No, I mean it feels good. It’s kind of tingly and I can feel all of the sensors on my tongue lighting up.” He grabbed his drink, cradling it in his hands and keeping it close to his chest.

“Oh,” Gavin said dumbly. Of course, it would be different for androids, Connor might not even have any way to taste it like humans did so sensations were the next best thing.

Connor was obviously trying not to gulp it down, and the way he held it in his mouth was adorable. His cheeks were puffed out and he’s staring down his nose like he’d be able to see the liquid. “Do you like yours?” Connor finally asked after he swallowed that mouthful.

Gavin swirled his beer around in the bottle wishing he could spill it somehow so he wouldn’t feel the need to drink it. “Uh, yeah sure. It’s not the worst.” That was true, it wasn’t the worst beer he’s had at least.

Connor frowned and leaned forward a bit so he wouldn’t have to speak too loud. “You know if you don’t like it you should get something else. This is a celebration for you, you should enjoy what you drink.”

Damn, was he really that transparent? Part of him was screaming to keep the act up, that beer and hard liquor were what was expected and what he had to drink. “Fuck it. Yeah this shit sucks, I hate the taste of beer. I’ll go get something else.”

Connor beamed at him and nodded, sitting back and taking another long sip of his drink and holding it in his mouth.

“You want another one of those, Con?” The nickname slipped out but at least it wasn’t some lovey-dovey shit like honey or dear.

Connor frowned before shrugging and then nodding. Gavin gave him a thumbs-up as he made his way back over to the bar and ordered what he actually wanted to drink. The bartender didn’t comment on it, which he’s thankful for.

He headed back to their table only to find someone standing there, talking to Connor. Gavin cleared his throat and slid into his seat, handing the drink to Connor and then glaring at the man. “Can I help you?”

The man shifted, looking between the two of them. “Was just suggesting some drinks, sorry to interrupt.” The man put his hands up in surrender, taking a step back from the table. Gavin knew very well what this guy was trying to do, and Gavin would not let Connor be taken advantage of.

“Thank you for the suggestions, I’ll keep them in mind,” Connor grinned, but it looked a little too fake to Gavin. Gavin got to see the true smiles that lit up Connor’s face and no matter how weird and awkward he looked Gavin couldn’t help but fall a little farther with each one.

The dude glanced down, but wisely made no comment on Gavin’s choice of drink and how out of character it looked for him. So what he loved a good cherry bourbon smash, beer tastes like piss water and this actually had flavor.

Gavin brought his glass up and took a sip as the guy walked off back to wherever he’d been originally before Gavin left. The drink was damn good and mixed just right so that all the flavors were even and not too overpowering. This was the kind of drink he could easily get wasted on.

“Is that one good?” Connor asked, looking between Gavin’s drink and him.

Gavin chuckled and nodded, taking another swig. “Yeah, it’s damn good. Wish you could try it.” Connor still hadn’t confirmed if he could drink human shit or not, but he was going off the assumption that he couldn’t.

“I’m sure it’s wonderful if you like it.”

That statement didn’t actually hold up for much, but it did when it came to Connor. So he maybe liked him a lot and Connor was indeed very wonderful. It’s incredible how kind and patient he was, and yet he’s so headstrong and stubborn. The way he looked so innocent and pure but then Gavin remembered what he’s made for and how easily Connor could kill him if he wanted. He’d get away with it too, and Hank might even help dispose of his body.

He pulled out a cherry and pulled it off the stem before eating it, and twirling the stem around. He glanced at Connor, then back at the stem before grinning widely. “Hey Con, can you tie this with your tongue?” He held it out to him, and their fingers brushed together as he took it.

“Why would I?” He copied Gavin’s movements of twisting the stem around.

Gavin shrugs, drumming on the table. “Means you're a good kisser or something. It’s just a fun trick to impress people.” Gavin could do it, though he looked pretty stupid while moving it around his mouth.

Connor raised an eyebrow, probably wondering why Gavin wanted him to do it, then. But he shrugged and stuck it in his mouth, after five seconds he spit it back out and held it up for Gavin to see.

Gavin was expecting a normal knot, that’s what everyone could achieve if they practiced enough, but no. Of course, Connor was extra and within five seconds had the stem tied into a pretty bow. “Holy shit,” Gavin hissed, taking the little bow.

He was desperately trying not to imagine that very talented tongue could do on his dick. It wasn’t working, because he had to shift in his seat a bit to try and adjust himself. “Consider me impressed.”

“So this makes me a good kisser?” Connor tilted his head, his eyes shining in the light. Gavin gaped at him, trying to figure out if Connor was flirting or really that naive.

“Could always test that theory,” Gavin tried to say nonchalantly.

Connor tapped his chin, before reaching forward and grabbing the other cherry. He held it up towards Gavin, who took in a shuddering breath. He wrapped his lips around the cherry and pulled the fruit off the stem. For some reason, this one tasted even better than the last.

Connor then stuck the stem in his mouth and scooted over to close the distance between them. Gavin stiffened for a second as Connor was definitely kissing him. He finally got his brain in order and kissed back, bringing a hand up to hold Connor but the back of the neck.

Gavin couldn't help the moan that slipped out as Connor’s tongue brushed against his, and he opened his mouth eagerly to him. It’s hot and needy and fuck, maybe Connor wasn’t naive at all. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing all the time.

Something that wasn't Connor’s tongue was in his mouth and then Connor was kissing down his jaw over to his fluttering pulse that gives away just how affected he was by this.

“Oh shit, baby,” Gavin groaned, his hand going up to Connor’s hair to tug gently at the soft strands. Connor shivered and nipped a bit harder before sucking at the spot. It would no doubt leave a big mark, and Gavin couldn’t wait to press against it and feel the ache.

A loud shrill laugh made them jump apart, remembering where they were. Right, a bar and the thing in his mouth was the cherry stem. Gavin almost choked on it when he realized it was tied too. They were both panting with wide pupils as they stared at each other.

Gavin glanced down and oh, yep, that answered one of his questions at least. The tent in Connor’s pants gave away that he very much enjoyed that too and indeed had a dick. Gavin wasn't in a better state and he had to shift a bit to try and make his not so obvious. “Well fuck.”

Connor chuckled and ducked his head, rubbing his hands together. “I agree. Admittedly I’ve wanted to do that for some time, but I wasn’t sure how to initiate or if you’d actually want to.”

Gavin’s jaw was practically in his lap at the confession. “You wanted… fucking, how long!?!”

Connor looked bashful, the blue blush adorably dusting his cheeks. “Um, well you know the first time I broke a pen? I well, I might have been thinking about you instead of the case.”

Unlike Connor who blushed like a goddamn anime, just across his nose and cheeks, Gavin’s face was completely red all the way to his ears and neck. “And so you crushed a pen, great way to make a guy feel good.” He was teasing, trying to bide time to wrap his head around that.

“I just got overwhelmed! Pens are very fragile and, I just, I’m sorry,” Connor whined, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh no, no, no, you don’t get to hide, pretty boy.” Gavin pulled Connor’s hands away to see his cute face. “I’m damn happy just thinking about me gets you that distracted, that's a fucking ego boost if I’ve ever heard one.”

Connor sputtered but didn't pull his hands away from Gavin’s. “Don’t let it go to your head, I have a very vivid imagination.”

“Oh? Well, you can always tell me about those fantasies you’re having at work no less. Maybe I can fulfill a few of them.” Gavin smirked, leaning in so they were a breath away again.

Connor licked his lips and Gavin followed the motion with his eyes, wanting to close the distance but very much not wanting to get them kicked out. “Maybe I can show you one now?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck. Where the hell did this confidence come from? Had Connor even had sex yet? Had he kissed anyone before Gavin? He was damn good at kissing so either he was a natural or Gavin wouldn’t be his first. He wasn’t sure which he wanted more. He knew he very much wanted Connor, though.

“Yes, definitely, hell yes.” He gave Connor’s hand a quick squeeze, and Connor did it back before pulling him up. Right, yeah ok, he meant now.

He followed Connor back to the bathroom and he felt like a teen about to get his first blowjob. Connor pushed the door open before going to one of the five larger stalls. He momentarily praised the bar for having more accessibility, but that thought went out the door when he was pressed against the stall door as Connor closed it behind them.

Their lips locked again, and Connor slid his leg between Gavin’s. Connor’s hands went under and up Gavin’s shirt, pushing him harder against the door as he touched every bit of skin he could.

Gavin gasped, trying to muffle his moan as he rocked his hips against Connor’s thigh. “What, what were you thinking?” He managed to ask as Connor kissed and nipped down his neck to give Gavin a chance to breathe.

Connor glanced at him, a smirk on those beautiful lips. “I was thinking I could put my mouth to good use, get down on my knees for you.”

Gavin shuddered, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sounds good to me, pretty boy.” All those times he'd imagined this, and now it was finally happening.

Connor’s hands started trailing down lower and lower until they were resting over the zipper. “Thank you for the toys,” Connor whispered. He glanced down at where it hung around Connor’s neck, and Gavin beamed at him.

“You make it sound so dirty, Con, but yeah, of course. Glad you like them.” Now wasn’t the time, but at least he knew Connor had really figured it out. Not that it was hard, but still, it was kind of nice to hear a thank you though none was needed.

Connor hummed and sank down gracefully, unzipping Gavin’s pants as he went. It was a damn good sight, Connor looking up at him through his lashes as he rubbed him through his boxers.

“Fuck,” Gavin sighs, banging his head back on the door as he ran a hand through Connor’s curls. He was obsessed with how Connor let his hair be curly, made him look even cuter and more delectable.

Connor leaned forward, his tongue lolling out as he licked over the bulge. Gavin gasped, tightening his hold on Connor’s hair. The man’s eyes fluttered as he tilted his head back into his hand. “I want it, please?”

Gavin bit his lip, scratching at Connor’s scalp. “Of course, all yours, baby.”

Connor pulled him out of his pants, the cold air hitting him and making him tense slightly. The weight in his gut from pure lust grew heavier when he saw how hungrily Connor was looking at his length.

He banged his head back again as Connor took him in hand and slowly licked from the base to the tip, his tongue swirling around the head and pushing into the slit. “Have you done this before?” He agreed, trying to pull him closer.

“A few times, but I’ve heard I don’t need all that much experience,” Connor smirked as he took him into his mouth and they both moaned at the same time. Gavin couldn’t help but giggle, smiling down at Connor who looked even more blissed out than when he’d suck on the toys.

All the air left him as Connor bobbed his head, taking him all the way down with absolutely no resistance and Gavin tried hard not to buck into that talented mouth. He gripped his hair tight enough that it no doubt hurts but Connor seemed pleased as his eyes closed and he continued to bob and suck.

They both jumped at the sudden amount of sound that filled the bathroom as the door was slammed open and someone stumbled into a stall. The man was singing very poorly and it would have been hilarious if Connor didn’t have his mouth around Gavin’s dick and was still going.

He should have known Connor wouldn’t stop, and it was only the man’s awful singing that was just loud enough to cover up the lewd noises the two were making that let the man continue his business without any knowledge.

Gavin brought a hand up to bite at his knuckles, trying to keep himself silent as Connor took him all the way and then swallowed around him while his skillful tongue did things to the underside of his cock. His hips grinded forward, trying to get deeper and deeper even though he’s as far in as possible.

The sound from the bar hit their ears again as the man left after not washing his hands (fucking ew), but then it’s almost silent again. Gavin dropped his hand back to Connor’s hair and used his grip to push him back just slightly. It’s enough that Gavin had room to fuck his throat roughly, not holding back.

Connor moaned around him, keeping himself nice and pliant while also sucking and swallowing around him. He looked up at Gavin through his lashes and he’s just too damn pretty like this. His lips were red and slick, his face flushed blue, his curly hair an absolute mess from Gavin’s hands, and he looked almost high. He’s not even trying to touch himself, though the tent in his pants hadn’t gone down. Instead, Connor held onto Gavin’s hips, his thumbs brushing against his sharp hip bones.

Gavin was lost in the sensations, and, before he knew it, that cord was almost about to snap. “Fuck! Close, I’m so close, want me in your mouth?”

Connor hummed and made it very clear how much he wanted Gavin to come. It didn’t take much else, and he soon couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled Connor close, squeezing his eyes shut as he bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop from screaming. He’s always been loud with sex, and trying to hold back was hard.

Connor whimpered below him as he swallowed it all down. Gavin panted quickly, rubbing soothingly into Connor’s hair, while he experienced one of the best orgasms of his life.

Connor sat patiently as Gavin came down from it, and once he let go of his hair, slowly pulled off. It’s a huge contrast from Connor’s warm mouth to the coolness of the bathroom, but he carefully put himself away.

“You good? Want me to do something for you?” Gavin asked, glancing down at Connor who looked just as much of a mess as Gavin probably did.

Connor stood up carefully, shaking his head. “No need, I came from that.” He wiped his mouth before grinning widely. Well, fuck, that’s hot and if he didn’t just come he’d be tempted to try and go for another round.

“Huh, that’s good. Um, so thanks I guess, for that.” It was always awkward after but now it felt even more so. Was really it just lust with Connor? Did Connor want to do this again and only this?

Connor tilted his head and followed Gavin as they left the stall and went to the sink. “Of course, it was fun, I very much enjoyed myself.” That didn’t answer any of his questions.

Connor washed his hands and Gavin tried to fix his appearance somewhat to not look like he just had the life sucked out of him from his dick. “Would you uh, wanna do that again some time?”

Connor perked up and nodded quickly. “Yes! I’d love that, but… as a date or just sexual?” Well damn, he just went right out and said it.

“Either way, I guess. Whichever you wanted, you know?” He tried not to get his hopes up, but damn did he want this more than he wanted to have sex again.

“I would like to go on a date with you if that’s ok.” Connor looked sheepish saying this, his head ducked and that blue blush ever-present.

Gavin reached out and gently cupped his cheek. “I’m more than ok with that.” Then he leaned forward and kissed him gently and with as much passion as possible. Connor melted into it, resting his hand on Gavin’s waist and the other on the small of his back. He pulled him in like that and it made Gavin’s heart flutter and his stomach twist with butterflies.

They pulled back slowly and they really needed to not make out in the bathroom, though both of them were grinning. Connor reached down and brought the stim toy up, holding it in his mouth slightly.

“You really can’t get enough uh? Let’s go back, I’ll order you another drink too, and you can have all my cherry stems.” He offered his hand which Connor took. Ok, so maybe Connor driving him insane wasn’t the worst thing ever, if it got him to date Connor then it would be worth it. Plus, now Connor had something to put in his mouth whenever he wanted.

[quicksilversquared]

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 8

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

Lila groaned as she woke up. Everything was sore, sore, sore and shifting- however barely- in her bed made it worse. Something- a bedspring?- was stabbing her in the back, and she must have forgotten to take some bracelets off or something because there was definitely something on her wrists. She opened her eyes, about to sit up, and then froze.

Because this was all wrong.

She wasn't in her room, not at all. Maybe the room was mostly dark, but the light filtering in from the window and from the hallway was enough for Lila to see bare white walls, a large lack of furniture, and a couple of machines at her bedside. Lila bolted upright, her eyes flashing around the room, but nothing changed.

She was definitely in a hospital.

Frowning, Lila tried to remember how she had gotten here. Had she fallen at school? Maybe she would be able to pin it on Marinette. Or- no, she remembered what had happened. She had been at their class picnic and had been feeling a bit ill. She had been following Rose to get a container to put her food in, since she hadn't felt like eating, and then- then-

And then there had been nothing. She must have fainted. Presumably someone had called for an ambulance then, and from there she ended up at the hospital.

Lila scowled. So much for her photos being the star of the day. Clearly she should have faked a text from her mom about a last-minute trip and left before everyone started eating. Then she could have gone home and laid down and slept off whatever bug she had, she would have had an opportunity to have another story, and she wouldn't have completely shot herself in the foot by making her collapse the story of the day.

Maybe she could spin it? Lila didn't know how- her head still hurt a bit, probably from hitting the ground- but a hospitalization surely meant that her mom would let her take a couple days off from school. That should be enough time for her to come up with something halfway believable.

And speaking of her mom... Lila scowled around the room. She could see a chair for visitors to sit in next to her bed, but it was empty. What, was a visit to the hospital not enough to get her mom to come in and make sure that her precious daughter to visit her? Lila would have thought that her mom would have dropped everything and rushed to her side at once.

Maybe she was just visiting with the doctors or something. That must be it. Yes, she would be talking to the doctors and making sure that they were running every test that might be needed to done to figure out what was wrong with Lila. Maybe they were going over results now- except no, results already would mean that Lila had been out for a while. And since there was no reason for her to have been out for a while- she knew enough to know that fainting and being out for more than a couple of minutes wasn't good, and being out for hours was even worse- that meant that results already was doubtful.

Lila shifted, frowning. Okay, so maybe her mom was probably with the doctor. Fine. Great. But why was she all alone in her room? Surely they didn't normally bring in unconscious people, plop them in a bed- a really uncomfortable bed, by the way, did they never replace these mattresses or something?- and then leave them on their own? Really, there should be some nurses hovering around, waiting for Lila to wake up so that they could explain what was going on. Instead, they had let Lila wake up in the dark and by herself.

It was poor customer service, really. Lila was definitely going to leave a terrible review for them. Seriously, wasn't it Hospital 101 to not leave patients alone? Lila was going to get up and go find someone now, so that they could tell her what was going on and find her mom for her-

Lila froze, her legs swung over the side of the bed. The movement had made her head swim, but that wasn't what had given Lila pause. No, the thing- things- that had stopped her in her tracks were the handcuffs snapped around her wrists.

What?

Why- why would she be handcuffed to her bed? That made no sense! Lila frantically wracked her brains, trying to make sense of what was going on. Why would anyone arrest her? She hadn't done anything wrong- well, nothing that would warrant her getting arrested.

Well. Except for being Pavona, but how would anyone have found that out? She hadn't transformed outside of her house for over a week, and she had always been careful when she transformed and detransformed. Maybe one of the doctors had found the pin on her- but no, nobody would actually recognize it. It would just look like a pretty pin. She would be worried about Duusu exposing himself to someone to get her in trouble, but she had ordered him not to do that. As far as she could tell, Duusu couldn't expose himself to others without her permission.

So what was going on?

Scowling, Lila yanked at the chains, part of her expecting that the cuffs were just a figment of her imagination, maybe, or maybe just a dream. The metal bit into her wrists, though, assuring Lila that they were, in fact, real.

Lila kicked her bedframe, then let out a curse at the pain that shot up her leg. Someone had better come to explain what was going on now. She- she couldn't- there was no way that she was in trouble, there had to be some other explanation for this-

The unmistakable sound of a key in the door lock caught Lila's attention, and her head whipped up. At once, she shifted back to recline against her pillows, working a pleasant look onto her face.

She didn't know how much people knew. She didn't know why she was in handcuffs- not for sure. It would be better to play innocent and see if she could still twist things in her favor.

No, not if. How she could best twist things in her favor. Lila would not admit defeat.

The lock gave, and three figures entered. One flicked the light on- Lila squinted against the unpleasant glare, doing her best to not screw up her face and look mad or something. She had to play the part of a misunderstood girl who got framed for- well, for something.

Hopefully the nurse and officers approaching her bed now would give something away.

"Ah, I see you're awake," the nurse told Lila. She didn't smile, which- uh, weren't nurses supposed to smile, to set their patients at ease? This hospital was really earning a terrible review. "I had wondered if the heroes maybe pulled the healing too early, but it looks like they timed it just right."

"Well, they are the experts," the first officer said before turning his attention to Lila. His gaze wasn't the least bit friendly. "So. Pavona. You're awake. Now- we have questions."

  Nothing that Lila said could persuade the officers who visited her at the hospital that she hadn't been Pavona, much to her displeasure. The Peacock had been found on her when she collapsed- all of the questioning in the world couldn't make the police officers tell her who had found the Peacock and actually been able to identify it- and the superheroes had been contacted. Duusu- the absolute traitor- had somehow managed to confirm Lila's identity plus Hawkmoth and Mayura's identities, so now all three of the city's former superheroes were in prison, or- in Lila's case- on her way there.

(Lila hoped that they would be at different facilities. She had been the one to set off the chain of events that had resulted in his arrest- even if it had been accidental and not her fault, since he hadn't told her that the Miraculous was broken!- and he knew who she was. That alone was a little scary, but she wasn't going to admit that. Much.)

(Okay, maybe she would play up her fear in front of the judge. Maybe she would get off easier if she told him that she was so frightened of what Hawkmoth- who, by the way, no one had told her his actual identity yet, even though she had asked- would do to her or her mom that she had had no option. If she could play things up for pity...yes, that could work.)

For the time being, though, Lila had to suffer through the indignity of actually going to jail after she got released from the hospital. Her holding cell thankfully wasn't terrible- but it also was a cell in the jail's medical center, and she wasn't going to be there forever, just until the doctors thought that she was more stable.

More stable, or at least until they were convinced that she wasn't going to pass out at random and get injured. Since the only way Lila was going to heal from the damage that the broken Miraculous had done to her body was by wearing the fixed Miraculous and the superheroes wouldn't let her wear it now that she was out of her coma, she wasn't really going to get better.

(Lila had a whole bunch of opinions about that and how it wasn't really superhero-y to make their former enemies suffer just out of spite, but it was probably in her best interest to not actually vocalize that yet.)

The trial started pretty quickly after she was discharged from the hospital. Apparently she had been in a coma for several months (which, uh, talk about yikes), which had allowed enough time for evidence to get collected and organized and for a trial- a jury trial- to be pulled together.

Lila had had a hard time not reacting to that particular bit of news when the lawyer that her mom hired had told her. She knew that jury trials only happened in France for the most serious of crimes, ones that tended to have really long sentences.

(That- that was terrifying. Lila didn't want to spend the rest of her days rotting behind bars. But she had a good lawyer- her mom had made sure of it- so that wasn't very likely, right? Right?)

Once the trial started, it didn't take long for the court to establish that there was no doubt about whether or not Lila had been Pavona. The fact that the Peacock Miraculous had been found on her (Lila still didn't know who had found it- the name, for some reason, was annoyingly staying redacted) and the cursed coma that she had fallen into that had only been undone by her wearing the fixed Peacock pin were conclusive enough evidence. Lila's lawyer had advised her before the trial to not try to fight that part of the accusation, because the evidence was just too strong. There was no way that the Peacock would have helped her if she had fallen ill for some reason.

That meant that Lila's only hope would be for a reduced sentence, and that would be based entirely on if she could argue that her participation was forced and not entirely willing. If she could convince the jury, then Lila should be golden.

It was a good thing that Lila's biggest talent was lying and convincing others of things that were entirely untrue.

The prosecutor watched her critically as she stepped up to the stand for the first time in the trial, everything about him screaming strict and severe. This wasn't someone who was about to believe her, no matter what she said. Lila felt herself waver for a moment, but she forced herself to stand up straight. This was no time to show weakness. Not real weakness, at any rate. Manufactured weakness... that was another thing altogether. She had an audience, and she had to play to it.

"Ms. Rossi. Your lawyer claimed that you were intimidated into accepting this position, but we have audio evidence of you willingly agreeing to help Hawkmoth. Care to explain?"

Lila very nearly gulped at that- audio? Hawkmoth had gotten audio of her agreeing to be Pavona? What a slimy, stinking asshole- but years of practice with lying helped her keep a straight face. Her mind raced, working to come up with an excuse, but she was coming up blank. Time to buy herself some time. "Audio? What- what audio? If there was real audio, it would show that I was terrified!"

The prosecutor looked unimpressed. "The audio has already been analyzed by a voice expert and has declared your voice and the one in the recording to be a match. We can call Dr. Hillary Blanc to the witness stand after this, your Honor."

The judge nodded. "That would be preferable. But for now- I would like to hear this recording before we continue with our questioning."

"Of course, your Honor."

Lila's attorney gestured for her to return to her seat as the prosecution set up their audio. He looked rather irritated as she sat down next to him, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why. Audio of Lila agreeing willingly- eagerly, she knew how she had sounded when she took the Miraculous- was going to make his job a million times harder.

It was also going to make Lila's job a million times harder. She was the one with the rest of her life on the line, really, and she needed to be able to argue her way out of the corner.

"The audio is ready," the prosecutor announced. The judge nodded.

"Proceed."

The prosecutor nodded, pressing a button to start the audio. There was the sound of a window opening, and then the unmistakable sound of Lila's voice eagerly greeting Hawkmoth, offering up the information that her mother was asleep and they were alone. And then-

"So, uh, how can I help you? Do you need an akuma with specific powers or something? I can do that!"

-the eager, oh-so-willing offer to help Hawkmoth. She didn't just sound willing to do it, she sounded positively bursting with enthusiasm to help out a supervillain.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. But Lila could still get out of this, she was sure. Lila's mind whirred, and almost immediately landed on an idea.

No one would be able to prove that she was lying, of that Lila was positive. Her idea was foolproof.

Well. Hopefully.

Lila plastered what she hoped was an appropriately shocked and confused look on her face as the recording went on. She forced herself to ignore the jurors on their bench, considering her with increasing disdain as the recording went on and Lila sounded nothing short of enthusiastic and eagerly consenting to Hawkmoth's suggestion.

She couldn't let their current opinions put her off. She had an idea to discredit the recording- or at the very least, throw a healthy amount of doubt on it- and after that, hopefully they would change their minds about her.

"Where was this recording found?" the judge asked once the audio came to an end. "And by whom?"

"In Mr. Agreste's office, by the police," the prosecutor told him. "They have the original recording, this is a copy."

"Okay." The judge's eyes swung to Lila. "Ms. Rossi, back to the stand. Please explain this recording."

"That's not even close to what happened!" Lila exclaimed once she had dashed back up to the stand, pressing a hand to her chest earnestly as she turned her eyes to the judge and the jurors. "He must have faked it- and I bet I even know how! The Peacock makes sentimonsters, everyone knows that. He's impersonated people before- he impersonated Ladybug, everyone knows that! He must have done that to make the recording."

There was a pause.

"How was Hawkmoth meant to do that when you had the Peacock?" the prosecutor asked tartly. She narrowed her eyes at Lila. "This sounds like another weak excuse."

"He probably made the recording before he gave me the Peacock." Lila bit back the obviously. There was no point in irritating anyone in the courtroom. If she could get this excuse to work, then she could maybe get off with a lighter sentence. Her reputation in Paris would still be toast, but if she just got a rap on the wrist for being a supervillain under duress, maybe she and her mom could move and she could start rebuilding her life once her sentence was over. If this didn't work, then it was game over. "He had to know that I wouldn't be fully willing, but he wanted to be ready to stab me in the back as soon as possible. He-" Lila faked a half-sob, pressing a hand to her lips. "I was in too deep before I could figure out how to fix it, and then he kept threatening to hurt me or my mom if I tried to get out of it. He said that he would tell everybody who I was!"

There was a pause. The judge, Lila was glad to see, finally looked a bit unsure, as did most of the jury. Fantastic.

"Why should we believe that?" the prosecutor asked after a moment. "Lila Rossi has a history of lying, her record shows that. She lies to get out of consequences and to get others in trouble and for her own gain."

"But you do have to consider that there is a possibility of the tape being faked," Lila's attorney argued, finally- finally!- making himself useful and speaking up. "There is magic at play here, and you have to admit that Mr. Agreste is a cunning businessman. He is a planner. It would not have been out of character to do exactly as Ms. Rossi described. After all, he handed a broken Miraculous to a minor for her to use without warning her of the consequences of using it."

"The defense has a good point," the judge agreed, though the reluctance was clear on his face. "I suppose we should ask the superheroes if there is a way to prove the authenticity of the recording and if not..."

He trailed off, clearly unsure. Lila forced herself not to visibly preen. Her lie had landed perfectly. She couldn't relax yet, though. Any slip-ups now could ruin her lie and put her right back on square one.

"We clearly need time to review the evidence and pull in more experts," the judge decided after a moment. "We will adjourn for the day."

Lila smiled.

  Lila had been feeling pretty proud of herself for the rest of the day and overnight, doing her best not to smirk when she thought about the fast one that she had just pulled on the judge. Maybe they didn't fully believe her, not yet, but she had gotten the audio recording all but thrown out in court. Without it, she should have a much easier time in getting her sentence argued down to a small slap.

A small slap would be irritating, but not the end of the world. Lila could work with that.

And then she had walked into the court room the next day to see Ladybug and Chat Noir waiting, Duusu floating serenely above Ladybug's shoulder. Next to them sat Alya, who gave Lila a disgusted look when she spotted her.

Lila hadn't been expecting them. What were they supposed to add to the trial?

Oh, right. The judge had suggested that they pull in the experts on the Miraculous, as if they weren't just a bunch of kids themselves. They weren't experts, they just happened to have superpowers. That, and they got lucky in battles a lot, and really, the whole supervillain downfall was just one big stroke of luck for them. It wasn't as though Ladybug and Chat Noir had somehow outwitted the supervillains or something.

Just like every other day, all of the jurors filed in, followed by the judge. Lila suffered through all of the opening formalities- seriously, there was so much needless pomp that could just be done away with, it was such a major snoozefest- and then they actually got to the whole arguments bit again.

...in retrospect, the whole trial was just a heap of suffering through endless formalities and arguments and blah blah blahs. Lila would say that she would rather be anywhere else, but...

Well, for her, the only other place that she would be was at the jail, in her cell. That was boring, too, but at least Lila could get up and walk around and not have to pretend to be all apologetic and sweet all the time.

"Before we start, I want to say that Duusu cannot be recorded by either cameras or microphones," Ladybug told the courtroom once she was called on. "It's just the nature of kwamis. Machines can't record them."

The judge nodded, flashing a smile- a smile!- at Ladybug. "Thank you for that heads-up, Ladybug. We will ensure that we give enough time between questions for our court recorder to get everything that, ah, Duusu says."

"We also brought video evidence from the battles that Pavona joined in person," Ladybug spoke up again. She gestured to Alya. "Most of these clips came from the Ladyblog, though we got permission to also grab footage from several news stations. Alya Cesare here has compiled all of the clips for easy viewing."

"And what are these clips supposed to prove that we didn't already know?" Lila's attorney demanded. "We already know that she had the Miraculous, that's nothing new."

Alya stood up, very deliberately not looking at Lila. "All of these clips show that Pavona seemed to have her whole heart in the battle. She was fighting to the best of her ability-" her lips twitched, but she didn't add any commentary to that- "which you wouldn't expect from someone who was only fighting because she was being forced to."

"We will review the evidence," the judge told her. "Thank you."

"Objection to both!" Lila's attorney called. "How are we supposed to know that this kwami will tell the truth? And the videos- that's very subjective."

"We have also pulled in several behavioral experts to watch the videos and then give us their independent analysis of the body language in them," the prosecutor told the courtroom. "They can step outside while the others are giving their analysis to prevent them from influencing each other. All of the experts have been previously used by the court to review video before, and all have been deemed to give impartial analysis."

The judge nodded, looking pleased. "Fantastic."

"Objection," Lila's attorney called out again. "The clips could already have a bias to them. They've been picked out deliberately to push a narrative."

The prosecutor smirked. "We also have compiled all known footage of Pavona in battles. If the defense would prefer, we can present that rather than the cut version."

The judge turned to Lila's attorney. "Is that acceptable?"

Lila's attorney nodded, though he didn't look happy about it. "It is. Though- again, there is the matter of if this kwami can be trusted to tell the truth. We don't know enough about them to be sure."

The judge turned back to Ladybug. "Is there a way to address that?"

"There is." Ladybug smiled up at the judge, clearly fully at ease. She held up the Peacock Miraculous. "I thought that the best way to approach this would be to have a neutral party wear the pin- referring to you, of course, your Honor. Kwamis have to answer questions that their wielders ask honestly, to the best of their ability. If they don't know or cannot say, they will say as much." She held up another pin. "I also brought the Butterfly Miraculous, in case you wish to talk to both kwamis."

The judge looked surprised, then nodded and addressed Lila's attorney. "Mr. Nelson, does that address your concerns?"

Lila's attorney looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. "It does, your Honor."

Lila bit back her scowl. Stupid overly-prepared superheroes. How did they somehow think of everything? Couldn't they just let go of the issue for once and let Lila off? They could consider the social ostracization and complete destruction of her social status as her punishment.

"Approach, then," the judge told Ladybug. "We might as well start with talking to Duusu. Then we can let you and Chat Noir go on your way while we review the footage from the battles. You two have already spent plenty of time in courtrooms this summer."

Ladybug smiled and nodded, hopping to her feet and approaching the desk. She handed over the brooch, and the judge pinned it to his robes. Once Ladybug had sat down again, he addressed Duusu. "Please move to the witness stand."

"Of course!" Duusu zipped over, hovering in front of the microphone. "I'm ready when you are!"

Lila's eyes narrowed at the kwami. The airheadedness and naivety were nowhere to be seen as the little kwami replied to the judge's questions. Duusu seemed fully with it and sharp as a needle as he gave his answers. Lila had never seen the kwami act like that before, which begged the question of why.

Did the kwami switch personalities depending on the holder? No, that didn't make sense. There was no reason for any kwami under Lila's control to be an airhead. Which meant that he must have been acting when he was with Lila. All of the questions, all of the playing dumb, all of the forcing her to actually explain what she was doing, all of the ticking her off...

The little asshole must have been doing it deliberately.

In her seat, Lila silently fumed. She had put up with Duusu's ditzy personality for weeks, assuming that it was the kwami's nature and that couldn't be changed. The questions had nearly driven her up the wall- had driven her up the wall- and it had been entirely on purpose.

Lila bit back her scowl, slumping back in her seat and tuning Duusu out. It didn't really matter what exactly Duusu said, after all. Lila knew that he had to tell the truth, and the truth was that she had joined Hawkmoth willingly and eagerly, no blackmail needed on his part. She had wanted to see the superheroes defeated, and that was all the motivation that she had needed.

There was still all of the battle footage to go through, but by now Lila knew that all of her escapes were closing off. The evidence was piling up against her too fast, and the dark looks that Lila had been getting from the jury spoke volumes. The judge was asking Duusu about Lila's lies now, and it wouldn't be long before everyone in the room knew how to pick out Lila's manipulations and lies, and all of her attempts to control the narrative would be shot down immediately.

Now all she could hope was that the judge went easy on her sentencing.

  It was no surprise when the jury came back and announced her guilty on all counts. The sentencing, though...

Lila had come up with a whole slew of scenarios, all sorts of outcomes from the best (no charges) to the more realistic yet still optimistic (charges for being Pavona but reduced because of being pressured into it), then slightly less optimistic, all the way up to what she had thought was a worst case scenario.

This was way worse that her worst case scenario. Way, way worse.

Lila sank back into her chair, staring blankly at nothing as everyone around her started packing up, the prosecuting team chatting cheerfully with each other while Lila's side of the room- Lila's mom and her lawyer- silently gathered up their things. Fifty years? That was forever! Wasn't there supposed to be some leniency for crimes done by underage kids? Like, her brain wasn't fully developed yet or whatever and she was supposed to be more prone to stupid decisions and everything. Surely she should be getting, like, juvenile detention. A permanent mark on her record. Maybe a couple of years of jail once she aged out of juvie.

She had been right about getting sent to juvie. The courts weren't about to send her to an adult prison when she was so much younger than most of the prisoners there, and besides, she had school to finish. Lila would be going to juvenile detention until she was 18, and after that...

Prison. Years and years and years of prison. Way more than Lila had ever expected.

She was going to be old and grey by the time she got out. Old and grey and with a completely destroyed reputation. Lila was basically going to be condemned to be in the poorhouse once she got out, which-

That wasn't what she had envisioned for her future. Not even close.

As the officers came up to collect her so that they could head back to the jail, Lila clenched her fist. Her entire future was gone, just like that. All of her dreams of schmoozing with famous people and marrying rich were destroyed. Just because- because-

Because Hawkmoth hadn't warned her about the side effects of the Miraculous. Because he had asked her to use the Peacock instead of just using her as a frequent akuma, willing to take on whatever shape and powers he wanted. Because Ladybug had been an infuriating interfering busybody who couldn't leave people alone and had to stick her nose where it didn't belong, when Lila's lies hadn't been hurting anyone.

Lila bit back her snarl. She wished that she had never come to Paris. She wished that she had never heard of superheroes. If things had gone one tiny bit differently...

This was all Ladybug's fault. If she hadn't interfered, Lila wouldn't have had to retaliate. And now..

Now her life was ruined.