#ande struggle post

[achiefsmuse]

ande struggles....

I HATYE MY ;LOIFEEEE UIGH you silly fuck

[owo-writing-man]

First controversial post in a while but people need to realize a therapist is not going to challenge you on your reality directly. Because that can be insanely harmful. If you walk in going "I'm a system without trauma" they wont tell you no. Or that you are wrong. Because directly challenging someone's world view is not how you gain a clients trust nor does it help recovery. OF COURSE THE THERAPIST ONLINE ISN'T GOING TO GO "endos aren't real" because that could push people who need help away from help. A therapist is going to say "I'm not going to rebuttal anyone's lived experience" because to you. You are a system without trauma. No matter how factual that is. That is the way you see your brain.

Which is why I want people to get help. If you believe you are a system if you end up being one or not YOU NEED THERAPY. No if ands or buts.

I don't think you are a system without trauma. And I think endo logic is inherently harmful. But you and your struggles are real. Because that's how you perceive the world. And I want you to get help.

[3liza]

everyone arguing with material analysis/assertion about how art is a "luxury" has rarely if ever spent rent or food money on art, if they even pay rent or buy their own food, and if they did that would be considered extremely dysfunctional, and thats what i/we mean. artists are not providing a necessary service.

our plane crashes in the Andes and you are not particularly excited about my "can draw that Playboy centerfold of Marge Simpson from memory" like that is not an essential survival skill. lots of extremely skilled workers work in luxury artisan and craft jobs, it's not an insult to say even a very famous and very talented and influential artist is not producing a commodity necessary for the furtherance of human life. none of us are doing that, no matter how we stretch and strain the definitions of "essential" or even things like "morale" or "group identity". i will burn my copy of Finnegan's Wake to stay warm and thats what it comes down to.

i get foamy crazy snarling and biting about the idolization and obfuscation of what artists actually do because it is a labor issue! the public conception of artists as people possessed of a divine talent they dont consciously work to develop like any other skill, and the public idea that we are simply pleased and privileged to make art all day and "not work", something people say to my face every time i get asked "what i do", is largely responsible for the absolute dogshit reality of how subsistence and working class artists have to survive. we usually dont have health insurance unless we're so poor we qualify for medicaid AND live in a state that will enroll us. most of us are too disabled or crazy to go to a real job every day. most of us have tried, over and over, to enter the normal workforce, and have failed, and been forced to develop alternate skills that allow us to make rent in the ten hours per month we're actually functional. many of the artists i know work from bed because standing up is dicey. this has been turned into a charming eccentricity of famous artists and writers instead of people wondering why a person would need to stay in bed all day and take the enormous bother of bringing their stupid pens and paper and writing board or typewriter or whatever to their bed instead of just getting up and getting dressed and going to work. ive done this, i spilled ink in my sheets. its a huge hassle.

and artists play along with this mystique because people dont want to buy paintings from sadlords! they want to buy paintings and books and marge simpson nudes from cool guys who get a lot of chicks and wear rockstar outfits and party a lot, because of the transitive properties! of course!!! this is basic marketing!!!!! and if the artist doesnt play along they turn into Sad Story Artist where they're doing emergency commissions and posting about how sick they are all the time. this is not cool or fun or sexy. it's a sand trap and its very hard to recover from. im struggling with this right now!

famous and successful artists and writers are constantly ending up 60-90 years old with cancer and multiple sclerosis and dementia, being the subject of some sort of public, last-ditch, humiliating GoFundMe because painting paperback covers fr 60 years means you dont get a pension, you often dont even have kids who can take care of you, you dont have life insurance, you dont have health insurance. 'died penniless and alone' is one of the stereotypical artist endings for a reason, that is not fiction. this happened to more artists than i can list on two hands. look up what happened to Peter S. beagle, the guy who wrote The Last Unicorn. you write a book like that you should be set for life, right? NO. thats not how it works

i'm not saying 'all artists are disabled and working class or poor' because that isnt true, observably. nepo babies and trust fund artists exist, obviously. but they take an outsized portion of the spotlight when the public thinks of the concept of "artist". they are not actually the norm. the average artist is probably making under 40k and living in extremely precarious circumstances and has had periods of homelessness, illness, extreme debt and/or bankruptcy.

this is true even for the 'successful' artists. having one or two or ten good projects and being a household name does not save you from just not having the safety net provided by a normal career path. i was very close with a major, famous 2000s network television creator and team that you have heard of. they won awards, they changed culture entirely, they were a big deal. one of them was turned down for a half dozen projects by the same network that made millions or bilions on their franchise over several years (each pitch is completely unpaid btw, imagine carefully preparing a PowerPoint for morons for months at a time for no reimbursement and thent he morons ask you if you can put a teenage witch looking for her lost cat in the alps in it and you're like, haha, well, it's a 4 part hard sci fi miniseries set on Europa and takes place entirely inside a pressurized lander settlement, i mean Ridley Scot said he was interested already and he pitched a bottle episode about a carbon monoxide poisoning, soooooo....and the executives look at each other and they're like "it's jst not really what we're looking for right now, thanks for coming in" and you go to coffee bean and tea leaf and kill yourself and thats sort of what its like. i made that example up it didn't actually happen i'm using an illustrative example), worked on a canceled film, and just. gradually ran out of money. thats what happens. that guy ended up slowly selling off all his belongings, getting roommates in a one bedroom apartment, and then eventually having to just live on a friend's couch for years. famous guy. you probably know his name. another major member of that same team ended up in GoFundMe/commission hell for years (might still be there) because they had to take care of their two dying, dementia patient parents by themselves. these are people who go to GenCon and sign autographs for four hours at a time. THE PUBLIC IS NOT AWARE OF THIS SHIT and i'm sick of it. im sick of going to a gallery opening night ("vernissage") and drinking bad wine and having a guy with an email job that pays six figures and benefits tell me being able to push "undo" on the computer is cheating. that's a real example, that has actually happened to me. more than once.

artists currently have zero labor protections whatsoever. all of us are undercutting each other in an unregulated market and relying on welfare and private insurance and not having families or buying houses. zero security until we get so old all our illnesses and dysfunction finally ground us permanently and then we get turned into a charity case by fans (humiliating) or just fade away into ghosts and die

whats my punchline? idk i dont have one. it's possible and likely that any given artist you meet is permanently in precarity and will be until they die, even the famous ones. the culture of selling art demands that artists do not admit to this in public unless shit gets really really bad. i guess my point is you should know this, as a person who looks at or listens to or reads things that people have made for your amusement, not for your survival

[magicalbats]

Fantasies Play Out

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18.921

Warnings: aphrodisiacs, pining & yearning, pathetic soggy men. femdom, overstimulation, handjobs, PIV, cowgirl position, dacryphilia, rimming, anal fingering, prostate massage, edging & orgasm denial

A/N: Alright, here's my longest comm yet. I'm so, so happy the commissioner gave me permission to post this because I simply MUST continue to spread my femdom agenda, and what better candidate exists for tribute than Kaveh? lol This was written using one of the lovely @tearsofcalamity's OC's, her name is Jeanne and she's ... quite the woman, haha. If you're anything like me you shouldn't have any problem at all self inserting with the text left as is so ... please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Peering sullenly into his open wallet, Kaveh breathes out a single lamentable sigh over how much lighter it now was. Practically empty by all accounts, and what little mora he did have left would go very quickly. This he knew a little too well. 

He was struggling. No ifs, ands or buts about that. Between trying to stay caught up on the rent and his considerable debt payments (which hardly even put a dent in the total sum he owed to the renowned Lord Sangemah Bay) as well as the quite necessary bottles of wine he purchased for himself at the taverns and the shops, it was all going to be gone again in frustratingly quick order. And he’d only just returned from his most recent job out in the arid desert too. What a shame. 

It couldn’t be helped though. He’d needed these components for Mehrak and there wasn’t any getting around the costly price tag that came with them when one was working with a piece of complicated machinery as old and mysterious as his little helper was. He couldn’t exactly begrudge her for that. Mehrak may have been a costly sinkhole, an extra expense he hadn’t needed, but she was also an exceptionally good assistant. And, well. Perhaps she also helped chase away some of the isolated loneliness he’d felt closing in around him since he’d lost everything he’d worked so hard for, but there was no sense in dwelling unnecessarily on that. 

Mournfully clasping the purse shut and tucking it away into the safety of his pocket, Kaveh says to the ironworks shopkeep, “Thank you, Rahid. I appreciate you always keeping these bits and baubles on hand for me.” 

Because of course Mehrak needed parts of a very specific dimension that weren’t found anywhere else in modern Sumeru so they needed to be custom made. A costly sinkhole indeed. 

Sitting behind the counter, the elderly man sends him what can only be a sympathetic look from under the bushy, dusted gray droop of his eyebrows. He was happy to make the petite screws and nuts, and odd shaped bolts Kaveh needed since it kept food on his family table but evidently he wasn’t without his scruples. He’d certainly been around long enough to recognize when someone was limping steadily towards his last leg, yet he could only discount his wares so much without giving them away for free.

His sympathy just makes the blond’s stomach flip in on itself though, and he quickly busies himself with gathering up the handful of metal pieces laid out between them on the counter of the small shop. Pity was the very last thing he needed right now. 

“You should take it easy, old friend. You’ve been working an awful lot lately.” Rahid says in his usual low rumble, his voice permanently raspy after a lifetime spent working the forges, breathing in all the hot steam and iron smoke of his craft. 

“Ah, thank you but I’m afraid I don’t have any time for that at the moment. Someone is always in need of an architect, aren’t they? Busy, busy, busy.” Kaveh tries for nonchalant, tries to laugh it off like it’s no big deal as he slips Mehrak’s new screws into his other pocket where they wouldn’t stab him the next time he reaches for his wallet, but Rahid hardly seems convinced. 

In fact, the way he stares at him over the counter would seem to suggest that he could smell bullshit from a mile away, and he wasn’t impressed with Kaveh’s attempt at deflection. 

His deliberately casual laughter quickly morphs into nervous chuckling. “Hey, now. What’s with that look, huh?” 

Rahid narrows his eyes as if he wanted to give Kaveh a right and proper tongue lashing but says instead, “Well, as true as that may be - and I don’t doubt that it is given the quality of your work - you should still make some time for yourself. Take it from an old coot like me. You’re still young and capable. Don’t get so focused on your livelihood that you forget to live a little. You’ll regret it when you get to be my age. Surely there are some girls around the city who have caught your eye that you’d like to get to know?” 

Well, there was one, but she wasn’t from the city, or even Sumeru for that matter. 

She also wasn’t what Kaveh would call a girl either. 

Thoughts drifting idly to Jeanne only to inevitably take up camp there, Kaveh decides that she’s all woman and what a woman she was. 

Fontainian by birth and blood, she was an enforcement officer of the Maison Gardiennage who came to Sumeru on business with some amount of regularity. What that entailed was more often than not tracking down scoundrels that thought escaping to the opposite shore of the vast sea would save them from her wrath, or mora hungry merchants with a penchant for trouble and a bit too much free time on their hands. 

They’d happened to run into each other during one such incident involving a Fontaine trader who was underreporting his earnings to avoid paying all the taxes he owed. Having been in the wrong place at the right time, Kaveh, young and just as naive as he was now, had very nearly gotten duped out of a month's worth of pay by the shady businessman. But then Jeanne suddenly appeared like the hero in a storybook to interrupt the transaction before it was too late, saving him from what, in retrospect, had clearly been a scam. She’d made quick work of the lout and the two of them had become fast friends after that. Even now it struck Kaveh as being curiously fateful, that initial encounter. Like he was some hapless damsel in distress and Jeanne the noble chevalier of justice. 

But that was about where the fanciful tale ended. Years later they were still just friends despite Kaveh’s occasionally wistful thoughts to the contrary of someday being more and it’s not as if anyone could really fault him for that. 

Jeanne wasn't only pretty, she was downright stunning. And not in spite of the bisecting scars that ran across her face but because of them. He’d never seen someone quite so beautiful or captivating, and he more than anyone else had an eye for that sort of thing. There were very few in this world who understood the concept of aesthetic objectivity quite like he did, especially when others were much too focused on their own predefined subjective tastes to look past that. In many ways, Jeanne was the kind of woman he could see himself wanting to spend the rest of his life with. 

Unfortunately for him, she was unflappable and largely oblivious to the puppy faced looks of wanting he’d sometimes catch himself leveling at her, especially when they were drinking together. She always seemed to think it was just the wine talking, influencing his behavior and making him more needy (and whiny) than he normally was. Of course she wasn’t exactly wrong about that, but it was beside the point. While Kaveh undoubtedly appreciated her willingness to humor him in her own curious way during such moments, it didn’t exactly do much to soothe the yearning in his heart. More than anything he wanted Jeanne to take him seriously, but it looked like that was never going to happen. 

He's so caught up in these spiraling thoughts that he doesn’t even realize he’s letting out another groaning, long suffering sigh until Rahid chuckles a knowing sound in return. 

“That bad, eh?” 

Kaveh snaps his attention up, surprised at his own slip. “What? No. Nothing’s bad. Everything’s great, in fact.” 

The aging ironworker pins him with a critical, wisened look that seems to speak volumes. Clearly there would be no fooling a man nearly triple his age who’s been around long enough to have already seen and done it all, but that doesn’t exactly make Kaveh feel any better about being so damn transparent. 

“I’m afraid there’s no hiding it, boy. You can lie to yourself if you like but there’ll be no pulling one over on this old dog. I’ve heard that kind of sigh before. You’ve got a little sweetheart, don’t you?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He huffs, fluster quickly creeping up on him like a potent, thrumming buzz. “She’s not little. Th — I mean. I mean she wouldn’t be, if there was someone like that. But there’s not. I don’t have the time–“

“Alright, alright,” Rahid mercifully cuts off his floundering with a wave of his wrinkled hand. “I get it. There isn’t a girl you’re soft for.” 

“A woman.” Kaveh can’t help but correct him even when he knows he’s only digging his own grave deeper still. 

“Yes, of course. But if there was … what would be stopping you from courting the young lady? Surely you don’t lack for confidence? A handsome and successful architect such as yourself should have no problem getting anyone at all you set your sights on.” 

The blond hesitates, opening his mouth and then closing it again in favor of chewing on his bottom lip instead. He was tempted, oh, he was very tempted to lay it all bare. It’s not like he had anyone else to confide in about this sort of thing without running the risk of being laughed right out of the room. Or worse, stared at in contemptible silence and wordless judgment by the likes of that blasted Al-Haitham. He’d sooner take all his secrets to the afterlife before ever trying to have a discussion like this with the scribe. 

But Rahid was an old friend whom Kaveh has known for many years now and a decidedly trustworthy individual. He’d never sold him faulty parts or tried to price gouge him, hadn’t even asked what he needed these peculiar components for like many others might have. If there was anyone who could be trusted with this information it was probably him. 

Cautiously, Kaveh sends him a slow look of consideration. “Hypothetically speaking?” 

The old man nods in agreement. “Aye. Hypothetically.” 

“Well … if there were someone — and do keep in mind that this is purely speculative conjecture — if there were someone like that and they genuinely didn’t seem to realize I wanted to pursue them, what else could I possibly do to get my feelings across? Especially if they don’t even live here and I only get to see them on occasion …” 

Rahid lifts his brows in surprise. “She’s not from Sumeru?” 

“Hypothetically!” 

“Hmm. Well, I can see how that might cause you some trouble then. Trying to make a long distance relationship work is always hard. But, tell me boy, have you actually told her what you’ve just told me?” 

“I — I have, just … not in quite so many words, I guess.” Feeling his cheeks grow hot at the unbidden memory of grumbling out a half baked attempt to flirt with her the last time Jeanne had been in town, Kaveh drops his gaze and anxiously shifts from one foot to the other. It hadn’t worked, of course. He’d been so drunk and vibrating with liquid courage that he couldn’t even remember what exactly he’d said to her. All he knew with any certainty was that she’d softly tutted at him that he’d had enough for one night before wandering off to fetch him a glass of water. The lingering embarrassment was almost enough to make him feel faint. 

But at Rahid’s pressing sound of encouragement, Kaveh jumps at the chance and recounts the whole sorry tale to him in an impulsive rush that comes pouring from his mouth, unable to stop it even if he’d wanted to. He tells the old man everything; how they met, how simultaneously wonderful and imposing Jeanne could be at the same time and yet how oblivious she still seemed regarding his feelings. He even lamented, ad nauseum, how she never lost her composure while they were drinking long into the night together and how he couldn’t figure out how to crack her shell because of it. 

Eyes brightening at that last bit, Rahid abruptly leans forward against the rickety counter as if in great interest. “That right there sounds like your chance, boy. If she won’t hear you out sober, then you should do it when her guard is down. Everyone is more open to suggestions when they’ve got alcohol in them.” 

“But that’s the problem. No matter how much she drinks, she never lets her guard down. I don’t exactly consider myself a lightweight but she’s got the tolerance of a bear!”

“I see.” Murmuring thoughtfully, Rahid leans back to cross his arms in consideration. It’s clear he’s pondering over something with all the appropriate weight and gravitas the situation calls for. But he reaches his conclusion surprisingly quickly — much more quickly than Kaveh could ever make up his mind — and he stands with a soft scrape of his stool against the shop's floorboards. “Give me a moment. I think I may have something that could help you.” 

Blinking owlishly, Kaveh tracks his steps over to a stout cabinet pushed up against the side wall where he slides open one of the drawers with a dull jostle. 

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’ve got some hundred year old snake wine waiting on standby for just such an occasion or something?” 

“Ehh, not quite. But this should do just as well, if not better. Here we are.” Pulling out something that remains unseen in his blocky fist, Rahid closes the drawer back up and returns to the counter. Kaveh isn’t quite sure what to expect, but the petite glass vial he holds out to him is somehow the very last thing he could have guessed. There’s a faintly pinkish liquid inside that sloshes against the interior at the slightest shift and, squinting, Kaveh leans closer to get a better look. 

“What is that, some sort of alchemical potion?” 

“You’re not wrong, but you’re not exactly right either. Just take it. Trust me. You’ll be grateful you did the next time this young lady is in Sumeru. A few drops of this in her drink will have her, uh, loosening up quite a bit and you’ll have your chance to talk to her as much as you want.”

Kaveh shoots him a plainly horrified glance. “Are you telling me to drug her? She’ll kill me, Rahid, have you lost your mind?” 

“Archons above, this isn’t going to incapacitate her or nothing like that. Relax. My wife and I use this stuff to get in the mood with one another in our old age, that’s all. It just helps us with the warm up, if you get what I’m saying.” 

The blond offers a soft sound of enlightenment as if he understood perfectly now but, given the way Rahid critically eyes him, it’s clear the older man isn’t entirely convinced he does. 

For better or worse Kaveh is much too preoccupied with staring at the small vial in rapt fascination to notice though, and his hands idly clench into greedy fists where they’re braced against the counter. Regardless of his understanding or not, there was no denying the wisdom in Rahid’s suggestion. If Jeanne wouldn’t allow herself to drop her walls naturally then giving her a little nudge in the right direction was just the logical next step, wasn’t it? He was always much more loose lipped with a few drinks in him so if he could coax her into being the same … 

This really might be the thing that would finally tip the scales in his favor where the Fontanian woman was concerned. 

“How … how much would you want for that?” He finally brings himself to ask. 

“Nothing, old friend.”  The soft note of sympathy in his voice is clear as day, and it brings Kaveh’s attention up with a snap. Ignoring his hurried protests, Rahid reaches across the counter and bullies the glass bottle into his fumbling hands, adamantly refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Like I said, just take it. You need it more than I do, don’t you boy? My wife and I can get by without. Besides, it sounds like your situation is much more dire anyway. Just promise me you’ll take a break from working so much and put it to good use, eh?” 

Gently cradling the vial in his palms like it was some sort of precious, highly fragile artifact, Kaveh gropes for something to say. He couldn’t very well let it slip that he didn’t have much choice and reveal just how far from grace he’d fallen in the process, not without permanently staining his reputation as a capable and respected graduate of the Akademiya. 

But the greater meaning behind this gesture is not lost on him. Not by a long shot, and he finally settles on, “Thank you, Rahid. A thousand times, thank you. I hope you know how much I appreciate this.” 

Dismissing him with a brief wave of his hand, the old man quickly turns away, giving him his back. “Not another word about it, Kaveh. Now get out of here. Before I change my mind.” Then, like an afterthought, he adds, “I’ll make sure to have more of those components on hand for the next time you need them. Take care of yourself out there.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The little bell over the door chimes a merry sound as he steps out into the street and the humidity dense, year-long heat of Sumeru. The city is a constant buzz of noise and bustling activity, myriad smells from nearby cafes and vendors, but Kaveh hardly notices any of it while he makes his way down the road. His attention is all for the petite vial in his hand, so slight yet monumentally heavy against his palm. 

It was strange to think that something this small and seemingly benign could potentially be the answer to at least one of the many problems in his life. But as they say, matters of the heart are some of the most significant and challenging one can face, and he was inclined to agree. 

Financial problems could be parsed and sorted out in due time. Hell, even his living arrangements seemed stable enough for him not to have to worry about it too much at the current moment. Al-Haitham, for all of his bad attitude and unreasonable nature, seemed perfectly content with the way things were, even if Kaveh did sometimes suspect he’d only reached out a hand to lorde it over his head. Did that really mean it was okay for him to be expending this sort of energy on the issue of Jeanne rather than any of his other troubles though? 

“Well,” He murmurs softly under his breath, consideringly turning the bottle this way and that to watch how the rosy liquid inside reflects in the sunlight. “There’s no telling when I’ll even get to see her again so I think this should be fine. At least I’m prepared now.” 

Which was more than could be said before that exchange with Rahid. He’d have to remember to thank him properly for it later when he was back on his feet again, especially if the mysterious concoction ended up working a veritable miracle. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too far out in the future.  

Moreover though, the implication of what he was holding in his hand was a bit too tempting for him to think any better of it or reconsider his ready acceptance of this gift. Rahid had only said it would loosen her up but what exactly did that entail? He’d never seen her lose her composure before so Kaveh had no idea what that might look like. Would a truly inebriated Jeanne be clingy and soft with him? Prone to whining, the way he sometimes was? Or perhaps she would allow herself to laugh more openly, more freely without her self imposed walls there holding her back. 

The thought alone makes him huff a quiet laugh as he makes the turn into the packed market square, intending to cut through to get home a little quicker. “Yeah right, maybe when shroomboars sprout wings and fly. That would be awfully cute though …” 

And if her lips were loosened enough to coax a long anticipated yet never realized confession out of her? All the better then. She may not have taken him or any of his prior attempts at flirting seriously but surely she wouldn’t discredit her own actions once everything was said and done, right? 

Feeling oddly optimistic about the situation, Kaveh lifts his head to pay attention to where he’s going only to damn near drop the bottle in surprise when his eyes immediately alight upon a tall figure. The height as much as the manner of dress makes her stand out in the crowd, a feathered cap and a heavy coat worn over the shoulders that are at complete odds with the common attire. The burgundy red hair is what truly strikes a familiar note of wanting in his heart though, and he comes to an abrupt, lurching halt to stare at her in disbelief. 

She hasn’t noticed him just yet, only halfway through the motion of turning away from the owner of the shawarma stall she’d stopped at, but it didn’t really matter. He still recognized her on such an intrinsic, bone deep level that a shock of static electricity promptly surges through his entire body to set him abuzz from head to toe. Mouth going drier than the desert plains, he openly gapes at her like a beached fish. 

She notices him standing there another heartbeat later and, blinking at him in her closest approximation of startlement, Jeanne moves to face him. “Oh, what a coincidence. I was just on my way to pay you a visit. How have you been?” 

Kaveh fumbles desperately for something intelligent to say, coming up decidedly empty handed. It was like just the sight of her had short circuited his brain so beyond repair that no amount of trying to kick start it back into gear was working. There was simply no way, no way she’d just so happened to appear before him like this though. Was someone playing a cruel joke on him? Or had he finally cracked under the building pressure piling up around him and he was now hallucinating the singular object of his desires? 

But the longer he goes without responding the more her usually stoic expression pinches in vague concern, and he finally has to force himself to clear his throat with a rough cough so he can speak. “I - I’m fine. Good. Better than ever, in fact. What about you? I wasn’t … I didn’t expect to run into you like this.” 

Her suspicions evidently alleviated, Jeanne allows her expression to fall back to her usual neutral mask again. “I'm well. I thought about sending you a letter of correspondence prior to my arrival but I figured a surprise would do just as well. It’s not often I get the chance to drop in unexpectedly like this, after all. And for the better, it seems. Were you just on your way home?” 

“Oh, yes, I was just …” Kaveh trails off when a cold note of terror races down his spine. She didn’t yet know he’d lost everything. All of his furniture, his house, his beautifully maintained garden on the veranda that now belonged to someone else who’d no doubt swooped in like a vulture to buy up the gorgeous property he’d had no choice but to sell. He didn’t have a home to go back to unless you counted Al-Haitham’s largely minimal space and there wasn’t a god strong enough in this world or any other that could make him take her there. Even if she had sent him a letter there was a very real chance he never would have gotten it. 

“Kaveh?” Jeanne’s voice breaks through the muddled mess in his head as abruptly as if she’d sucker punched him, and he snaps out of it with a jolt. “Are you quite alright? You look a little pale to me.” 

“I’m fine!” He insists, a bit more loudly than he’d intended, only to grimace when she narrows her eyes again with renewed suspicion. “Sorry, sorry. I promise I’m fine, honest.” He quickly tries again, much more softly this time. “I just got back from a job out near Aaru Village, that’s all. I guess I’m still feeling a bit fatigued but it shouldn’t be anything a glass or two of wine won’t fix, haha… Come on. What do you say? For old times’ sake?”  

At his nervous attempt at laughter, Jeanne breathes out a quiet sigh and shakes her head. “Wine isn’t the solution to all of life’s problems, Kaveh. Haven’t I told you that before?” 

“Well, you’re not wrong of course, but in this case it most certainly is. You’ll see. Why don’t we just go down to Lambad’s for a drink? You’ve already got a snack to go with it.” 

Kaveh gestures towards the single serving of shawarma clasped in her hand and, as if she’d forgotten she was even holding it, Jeanne contemplatively glances down at the shishkabob skewer. Taking his chance while she’s not looking, he covertly slides the little vial into his pocket and safely out of sight before she can notice it. He hadn’t quite gotten so far as figuring out how he was going to slip a few drops of the mysterious substance into whatever she was drinking but thankfully she wouldn’t have reason to question him about it just yet. That solved at least one of the many problems her sudden appearance had presented. 

Now he only needed to stall her long enough to decide what he was going to tell her regarding his living situation. One issue at a time here. 

“I suppose I could do with a drink.” She says, bringing her attention back up just as he’s withdrawing his now empty hand from his pocket. “But you need to hydrate yourself before anything else if you’re feeling unwell after your travels. Promise me you’ll make sure to drink some water when we get there?” 

“Deal.” He gratefully blurts even as his heart gives a dully subdued flutter inside his chest. Jeanne, feared enforcer of Fontaine and scourge of all wrongdoers, worried about him? Kaveh would’ve been tempted to giggle over it like a schoolgirl had he not been so weak in the knees with relief. As long as he could keep her distracted enough that she didn’t start asking any prying questions, there was a very real chance he could still salvage this. 

Nodding once to indicate that the decision has been made, Jeanne leans down as if to grab the stately, heavy looking luggage at her feet. But even in his frazzled state Kaveh is still quick to jump into action and he lunges forward, snatching it up off the ground before she can. He falters though at the weight, a small grunt leaving him when he encounters more resistance than he’d anticipated. He quickly recovers though and bounces upright again with a victorious grin aimed at her even as his arm threatens to buckle under the weight of his new burden.  

Not looking particularly amused, she levels him with a frown. “You needn’t concern yourself with that, Kaveh. I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own suitcase, seeing as I’ve been doing just that up until now.” 

“I know that but please, I insist. Isn’t this what they call chivalry back in Fontaine? I’m just making sure you feel at home, that’s all.”

She tries to fight it but a brief, rueful smile still manages to grace her mouth. It’s as beautiful as it is fleeting, and Kaveh has to work very hard to keep his free hand from coming up to touch at the spot over his chest where his heartbeat is pounding out a staccato rhythm. He really did have it bad. Not that that comes as a surprise when he’d already known full well but there was something reassuring in having such a tangible confirmation that his feelings for her haven’t changed or lessened one bit since the last time they’d met for a meal and drinks. 

It fills him with a fresh surge of hope for the prospects of this unexpected chance encounter as they start to make their way down the road together. Still, though, he can’t shake the feeling that something seemed a bit unusual about her demeanor this time. Far be it that he was complaining but Jeanne wasn’t typically in the habit of being so laid back or relaxed, and that makes him shoot her a curious look. Her posture was as proud as ever yet seemingly less severe in the set of her shoulders and the sure sway of her hips. Most anyone else probably wouldn’t have caught on that anything at all was different but he certainly had. 

“You must have only just gotten here if you haven’t even dropped off your luggage yet. Talk about good timing. And forgive me for being blunt but you seem to be in a good mood today. What kind of job are you here for this time?” 

Another small smile pulls at her mouth, but this time it doesn’t immediately disappear. “There is no job. I’m on vacation. Lucky me, right?” 

Kaveh’s lips slowly part. She’d been given holiday from her obligations within the Gardiennage and she’d decided to spend that time in Sumeru? With him? He almost doesn’t believe his own ears even as he blurts, “Oh, that’s wonderful! You’re always working so hard, you’ve certainly earned yourself a break by now. But … you could have gone anywhere, right? Why here?” 

Jeanne sends him a lingering glance that he can’t decipher quickly enough before she turns her attention forward again with a quiet sniff. “Why not? I like it in Sumeru, and it’s not a very long trip. I’m familiar enough with the roads and the people that it just seemed like the logical conclusion.” 

“Ah, right. The old stomping grounds, eh?” He laughs, trying to cover up the distant note of disappointment that creeps in. Of course she wouldn’t choose to come here for him, specifically. He was just one of probably many faces that made up the familiar tapestry of the foreign city in her mind. His wishful thinking was going to get him in trouble some day. 

The physical manifestation of that was a heavy burden in his pocket that he couldn’t ignore when each step seemed to emphasize the weight of the vial resting against his thigh. Perhaps accepting Rahid’s offer had been a mistake after all. If there was nothing there in the first place then no amount of loosening up was going to improve his situation with her, would it? 

And that was to say nothing of the fact that he still had no idea what to tell her about his descent into poverty. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lambad’s Tavern isn’t particularly busy in the middle of the day but it’s not quite empty either, so Kaveh makes a point of picking out a secluded booth seat in the far back corner. He’d cited wanting to be away from the oud player and the crowd naturally drawn in by live music when she’d given him an odd look, but in reality he’d needed the relative privacy to get his head on straight. 

Over an hour later and he still hasn’t quite accomplished that, nor has he made a single decision on how to proceed from here. Not whether to tell her the truth or come up with a convenient excuse as to why he couldn’t invite her back to his place for a nightcap as he customarily did. Not whether to slip her some of the pink concoction when she wasn’t looking or toss it in the trash at his earliest opportunity to be rid of the evidence. Kaveh wasn’t normally this hesitant or irresolute but the situation was so littered with proverbial land mines that he feared making the wrong move a little too much to make any move at all. 

And Jeanne, in all the splendor and glow of the relaxed mood brought about by her holiday away from the court of Fontaine, was not making it any easier on him. 

“I did miss having your company, you know. Since I’m not on the clock this time I say we try to make the most of it while we can. I think we should go sightseeing together, actually.” She says, perfectly casual about it while she picks up her stout goblet from the table and takes a sip. He can’t help watching from the corner of his eye how the elegant line of her throat daintily bobs with the swallow but he quickly averts his gaze before she can notice. 

There was very little he wouldn’t give to press his mouth to that pale strip of flesh and nuzzle into her pulse. He felt like he was going mad. Jeanne de la Roche herself wanted to spend that much time with him? Willingly? It almost seemed too good to be true. 

“It occurred to me that I haven’t ventured out from the capital city or the port towns very much,” Jeanne goes on, idly swirling the glass in her hand now. “But Sumeru is a rather large country, isn’t it? I should think I’d like to see more of it.” 

Eager to busy himself with something so he can hide his jittery nerves, Kaveh leans forward to take up the decanter from the table and refills his own cup. He knew he was drinking a little too fast for a situation as precarious as this one but it couldn’t be helped. It would’ve seemed far more strange if he’d hardly touched his wine at all after pleading with her to come here. 

“Why, of course we can.” He tells her as amicably as he can manage. “I already have a few places in mind that I’d love to show you. I’m probably not the best candidate to play tour guide but … if you think you’re up for it, I can probably move some stuff around in my schedule.” 

Never mind the fact he didn’t yet have another job lined up after only just completing the last. His financial troubles had forced him to be a little more cautious about where and how he spent his time. Long gone were the days where he could leisurely mingle at the parties and grand openings hosted by wealthy businessmen or dignitaries who were keen on networking with him lest he run the risk of his secret getting out. Reputation was, unfortunately, a key factor in such stuffy social circles and he’d largely distanced himself from that particular crowd under the guise of being too busy to humor them. It was a vicious cycle and he could feel the pressure steadily closing in around him even now. 

But Jeanne didn’t need to know that. She’d probably understand it, given her own experiences dealing with courtiers and unreasonable noblemen who were accustomed to things being done a certain way, but he didn’t want to unload all of his woes on her. Not yet. 

Or preferably ever, if he was lucky enough to get out of it entirely. 

And she seems pleased enough with his willingness to accommodate her that he’s certain he’s made the right choice. Her smile is private and brief when she flashes it at him, but the teal of her eyes takes on a stunning warmth that very nearly makes his heart give out on the spot.

“Excellent. Of course I won’t take up all of your time though. I know just how busy you usually are but I must admit I’m looking forward to it. Are you certain a day or two of exploring Sumeru’s countryside together won’t hurt your productivity too much?” 

“Certainly not.” He swallows hard. “I’m looking forward to having a break of my own. All the better if it’s with you.” 

Offering up a brief sound of agreement, Jeanne thoughtfully glances down into her cup with that same secretive smile still in place. It strikes him as oddly curious, like there was more at play behind her good mood than just the vacation or the drink, but as always she doesn’t allow him enough time to parse what it might mean. 

Unfolding her legs where they’d been neatly crossed one over the other, she sets her goblet back down on the table and rises to her feet. “Then it’s settled. Excuse me for just a moment. I’m afraid I need to visit the powder room.” 

“Please, take your time.” He murmurs, attentively watching as she steps out from the booth before disappearing further into the tavern. Kaveh feels vaguely like a clingy puppy at the vague sense of loss that comes with watching her go but he quickly snaps himself out of it. 

This was his chance, wasn’t it? 

Surreptitiously, he glances at the glass she’s left behind. It would be all too easy to slip a few drops into her drink and no one would be none the wiser when their table was sequestered in the far back corner, away from where any prying eyes would be able to see it. Except he still hadn’t quite made up his mind yet. Was this a step too far? Would he be breaking some unspoken trust between them if he went through with this? 

The clock was ticking. He’d have to make his decision fast. 

“Dammit,” Cursing under his breath, Kaveh fumbles to get his hand inside his pocket. The glass vial feels warm from his own body heat as he wraps his long fingers around its slight circumference but he hardly even notices it in his flustered state. If he really went through with this … if he actually slipped her something without her knowledge … 

Oh, Jeanne was going to string him up like a solstice turkey if she ever found out. 

“I can’t do it.” He murmurs, hating the sinking feeling of defeat that makes his stomach feel like a solid lead weight yet he knew this was a line he just couldn’t bring himself to cross. No matter how badly he wanted to see her punch drunk and giggly (if such a Jeanne even existed) there was simply no way he’d ever be able to reconcile it with his conscience. In truth, he felt something like a slimy creep for even considering it in the first place. 

So he sits there for the next odd minutes, just sullenly regarding the little vial in his hand until she comes back and slides into the booth next to him again. His slumped shoulders must catch her attention, because she leans close to him to inspect what it is he’s looking at. 

“And what is this? Some sort of alchemical potion?” 

That manages to make him smile. “Hah. I said the same thing, you know. A friend gave this to me. He said a few drops in your drink would increase the efficacy and make it more potent.” 

Or something like that. Kaveh had been drinking a shade too fast since they got here to properly remember what exactly Rahid had told him. Not that that had been much to begin with, in retrospect. 

“Hmm. Interesting.” 

He’s not sure why he does it. Perhaps it’s the wine making his head feel fuzzy and muddled, or perhaps it’s nothing more than a last ditch effort on his part to win her over, but he holds it out to her in offering. “Wanna give it a try? I’m not sure how much effect it’ll actually have on you but …” 

She noises a brief sound of consideration, making up her mind surprisingly quick, and giving an elegant shrug. “I don’t see why not. I can’t even remember the last time I felt truly drunk.” 

“I’ve noticed that.” Numbly passing it over to her, Kaveh watches in disbelief as she uncorks the petite stopper and lifts it up to her nose for a sniff. He can hardly believe the situation would turn out this way after all the indecisive grief he’d endured leading up to this moment. 

Not only had he saved himself from dealing with the long lasting guilt of doing something so nefarious behind her back but she was also willing to drink it on her own accord? It truly seemed too good to be true. 

But, to his continued surprise, she does indeed reach out to position the vial over her waiting cup. A deliberate turn of her wrist sends a few pink droplets falling into the wine, dying it a faintly rust color in the center where it slowly starts to bleed out towards the edges. Jeanne appears to hesitate though, and at first he assumes she’s rethinking this decision – which he couldn’t exactly fault her for if that were the case. But then she tips the glass bottle again, spilling another healthy dose into her goblet, and his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline.

“Uh, don’t you think that might be too much?”

“We’ll find out, won't we?” She shoots back, and he doesn’t realize she’s teasing him rather than issuing a challenge until she sends him a confidential smile. “It’s just as you said, Kaveh. There’s no way to know how much effect this will even have on me so I don’t see what harm it could do. You’ll have to forgive me though if I start acting like a fool. Can I trust you to watch over me if that happens?”

Kaveh starts to open his mouth, wanting to reassure her that everything is fine, of course he would, and to not give it another thought. But before he can even get a single word out she abruptly leans forward to snatch up her glass. In one smooth motion she brings it up to her mouth, tips it bottoms up, and drains what must be a good half of its contents all at once. 

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, the blond lurches forward to grab at her elbow. “Woah, woah, hey! Slow down, there’s no rush is there? Don’t — you can’t drink it that fast!” 

She lowers the goblet enough to say, “And why not?” before decisively lifting it again. 

“Because -“ He fumbles for something to say, anything other than the humiliating truth, even as he grips her tight in an attempt to stay her hand. It’s no use though. She’s much too strong, stronger than him by a very noticeable margin, and there’s nothing he can do to stop her from taking another healthy swig. 

Such a realization probably would have hurt another man’s ego, left him feeling emasculated and lesser than. But Kaveh, on the contrary and much to his growing horror, only feels a dizzying rush of sharp edged excitement swell in his gut when her bicep powerfully flexes under his fingers. It’s like she doesn’t even notice he’s holding onto her at all and it is with a great deal of buzzing trepidation that he realizes just how easily she could have overpowered and pinned him down. It wouldn’t have even been much of an accomplishment. Despite the biological advances he naturally possessed as a man, he never could have gone toe to toe with her and hoped to come out on top. 

He quickly yanks his hands away as if she’d scalded him, his breath coming out in a quick rush now. His cheeks feel like they’re positively blazing while he watches in dismay as she finishes off the rest of the wine before reaching for the decanter. This wasn’t so strange for her, in truth. Jeanne seemed to enjoy dropping some of the stuffy aristocratic manners she’d been raised on when she was with him and she could hold her alcohol perfectly well under normal circumstances. But he had no idea what effect that strange liquid was going to have on her, especially not when she’d consumed so much of it all at once. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of the unmistakable tendrils of arousal curling hot in his lower belly now. 

Practically shaking, Kaveh self consciously huddles into the corner of the booth and tries to get his bearings straight again. He’d known Jeanne was physically fit and strong, of course. It was a big part of the attraction, after all. But he hadn’t fully comprehended the actual differences in their strength, not like this. He’d never had it quite so poignantly displayed right in front of his very eyes before. 

And something told him he’d just made a grievous mistake when he decided to open up Pandora’s Box with that mysterious concoction. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thirty minutes later and Kaveh knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has indeed made a monumental mistake. 

Jeanne, to her credit, doesn’t appear to be drunk or even particularly tipsy for that matter — not the way he and many others get, at any rate. She was still a steady, unflappable presence sitting next to him in the booth, neither faltering in an intoxicated daze nor slurring her speech like most did when they were inebriated. By all accounts she seemed to be almost entirely sober. 

Except the way she looks over at him is so hungry and pointed that he feels vaguely like a cornered prey animal staring down a half starved beast. The change had come on gradually at first and then more quickly when whatever he’d slipped her really started to kick in. Now she looked like she was seconds away from pouncing on him right then and there, and he wasn’t so sure he would have had the strength of will to tell her no. 

If this was Rahid’s idea of ‘warming up’ with his wife Kaveh was going to have to have another long talk with him. 

In the here and now, he fumbles for something to say. Anything at all to diffuse the situation and give him a chance to figure out how to fix this newest screw up in his long list of a track record. It seemed that no matter what he did, he really just kept digging his grave deeper and deeper. 

“Are you alright, Jeanne? Y - you look thirsty. Why don’t I grab you some water?” 

He quickly stands, but Jeanne is just as quick to grab his wrist and tug him back down. Her fingers are reminiscent of iron manacles, and he rather helplessly collapses into the seat again. Surreptitiously glancing into her darkened expression, he decides that this would have been a rather terrifying experience had he not been so embarrassingly aroused by it. There was clearly something very wrong with him. 

“No water.” She murmurs, her voice noticeably huskier than usual. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was the sultry, intimate tone she would use with a lover in their most private of moments, and that doesn’t do much to help him fight down the erection trying to spring up in his pants. He needed to think fast. 

“Alright. Can I … can I get you something else, then? Maybe something to eat? That might — it might absorb some of the … wine in your system.” 

Jeanne gives her head a slow shake, burgundy forelocks swaying gently with the motion. “No. I’m not hungry for food, but thank you.” 

Oh. 

Unsure what else to do, Kaveh lets out a threadbare little laugh. “Ah, I - I see. Then are you in the mood for something else? I can get you whatever you want. On me, of course.” 

It’s not like he had the extra money for that but it doesn’t really seem to matter. She only drops her gaze as if in thought, deeply considering something that only she was privy to in that moment. 

Those cool, sea-green eyes snap back up almost immediately though. 

With a single minded decisiveness that makes his heart lodge itself in his throat again, she nudges closer to him in the booth. Stammering, he quickly brings his open hands up to indicate surrender but she just reaches right past them to grab his chin without so much as pausing. Completely ignoring the surprised squawk he lets out, Jeanne rather demandingly angles his face up at her as she leans in, pressing her body right up against his side until he's practically pinned back into the seat. 

She looks like she’s about to devour him whole, her entire frame practically vibrating with the urge to act on whatever is going through her head, but she manages to stop at the last possible moment. Visibly holding herself in check she takes a deep, faltering breath and lets it out on a slow exhale, trying to regain her composure.  

“I’m not sure what's happening but … I think we need to leave.”

“A - are you alright?” 

“I don’t know. I just suddenly feel so damn hot.” She slowly shakes her head, clearly unable to make any sense of it. It is with a great deal of effort that she forces her fingers to unlatch from his chin and she stiffly returns to her side of the booth, panting softly under her breath. 

Kaveh can’t help the worried guilt that rushes over him as he takes in her new demeanor, the hunched set of her shoulders and the fine sheen of sweat starting to form across her face. If he didn’t know any better he’d think she was suddenly coming down with a cold. This was not at all what he’d expected to happen based on Rahid’s vague description but, well. She had consumed more than just a few drops worth. He just hoped it wasn’t making her sick. 

“It’s okay, Jeanne. Let me pay the tab and then we’ll get out of here,” He tells her, consolingly reaching over to place his hand across her back. “Your place is closer than mine so lets - -”

“No. I’ll pay.”

“But I already said it was my treat - -”

In lieu of a proper response, she merely reaches up lightning quick to snag his wrist and Kaveh can’t quite help the startled yelp he lets out in response. Unperturbed by his reaction, she stands up in a rush and half drags him after her. Another blinding, white hot surge shoots through his body at the demanding way she steers him out of the booth, stopping just long enough to snag her luggage up off the ground before making a beeline up to the front counter. He’s helpless to do anything but follow along right in tow when she’s got an ironclad hold on him like this, and Lambad sends them an odd look from behind the long bar at their approach. 

“Leaving so soon? It’s not even been two hours yet.”

“O - oh, you know,” Kaveh nervously laughs, scrambling for an excuse that wouldn’t sound as incriminating as the current scene looked, but Jeanne is quick to cut across him. 

“We might come back tomorrow. I’m not feeling very well, unfortunately.” That much is clear in the way she shivers just ever so slightly as she sets her suitcase back down so she can dig into her pocket. The fact she refused to let him go, as if she was worried about him making a break for it, is not lost on him but there wasn’t much he could do about it at this point. 

A handful of mora is slapped down on the counter with enough force to make Kaveh wince and then she’s physically dragging him towards the exit. By the time they make it outside and step into the dense heat, Jeanne is full on panting like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, and the two of them stumble to a halt just on the edge of the road. Realizing she was hardly in any condition to navigate the city streets on her own, the blond cautiously steps closer to put his uncaptured hand on her shoulder, hoping to steady her a little bit. 

“Here, let me lead the way. Do you feel like you’re going to be sick? Maybe I should take you to a hospital …”

“No. That's not necessary.” She groans very softly, keeping her head hung forward so that her hair keeps her face mostly hidden from him. “Just want to go home. I think – I think I need to lie down for a while.” 

He was decidedly in agreement with that, so he gently coaxes her into motion until she at last gives in and shuffles after him on heavy feet. Luckily the house she rented year-round for her stays in Sumeru while on business was conveniently closer to the tavern than his old home would have been, so that saved him from having to break that particular news to her just yet. It was one of the very few breaks he seemed to be getting today. 

More importantly though he isn’t quite sure what to do with her in this state. She’d said she didn’t need a hospital but was she sure about that? Did she have the presence of mind to make those kinds of calls right now? In many ways this was the exact opposite of what he’d been hoping for. Instead of a clingy, affectionate Jeanne he’d gotten one who looked like she was either going to collapse or start retching everywhere. For all he was aware, she might even end up doing both and he had no clue how to handle any of it. 

But for once the gods seemed to be on his side because they eventually make it to her single sized home without incident and only a few curious stares from people wondering what was going on with the Fontainian woman. There was no telling what kind of rumors about them might be circulating around the city come morning but that was the least of his concerns. With her help, he manages to get the door unlocked and the two of them stumble inside. 

Immediately dropping her luggage, Jeanne moves to lean heavily against the wall while he gets the door closed. Even with her hair hanging forward he can still make out the furious flush that stains her cheeks and he cautiously approaches her, idly noting that when she was slumped like this they were at almost perfect eye level with one another. 

“Are you positive you don’t want me to fetch a doctor for you, Jeanne? I’m worried about you.” 

“Don’t be,” She insists, lifting a sluggish hand to vaguely wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine. I must have just drank too fast. I wasn’t expecting that brew to hit me so hard.” 

Deciding that was a major understatement, Kaveh reaches up to tug her coat off her shoulders. That probably wasn’t helping her current condition much, and it strikes him as oddly domestic. Like he was a housewife welcoming her hardworking husband home from a long day. 

His belly painfully clenches at the thought and, struggling to fight down the erection that tries to spring to life in his pants, he tosses her jacket on the nearby coat rack and then stiffly takes her by the shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed before you collapse on me.”

Much to his relief, she complies without a fuss and pushes off from the wall. Leaning into him for support, Jeanne allows Kaveh to guide her further into the house and down the hall. He’d only seen her bedroom once or twice before in passing, when he’d helped her with her luggage on previous trips, but this time there’s enough static tension hanging in the air that he can’t quite stamp down the mounting excitement in his lower body. It’s a shameful thing to realize his self control was this bad but he makes a valiant effort to keep it at bay while he gets her directed over to the waiting bed. 

“Here we are. Once you’re settled in I’ll go get you some water to drink.”

She doesn’t immediately sink onto the waiting mattress though. Even at his encouraging nudge, she just stands there breathing heavily, and he anxiously bends his head close to try and get a better look at her. 

“What’s wrong? Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” 

“No.” 

“Then why don’t you - -“ 

It happens much too fast for him to comprehend any of it. 

One moment he’s standing on his feet, helping Jeanne support her weight, and the next she’s flipped him forward to hit the bed, sprawled out on his back. Kaveh barely has enough time to draw a sharp gasp as he bounces once before she’s on top of him, pinning him down against the sheets. Staring up at her, he’s so surprised in the aftermath of that sudden rush that he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to do anything else but gape at her. 

What in the seven hells was happening now? 

“Kaveh,” 

He gives a slight jolt. “O - oh. Yes – yes, Jeanne?” 

“I’m going to kiss you.” She announces with so little fanfare that he very nearly does a double take. 

“W - wha —“

“Kaveh,” She cuts across him, the strict command in her tone making the blond obediently snap his mouth shut. Apparently satisfied with that, she goes on. “I’ve thought about doing this for a while now. Quite a while, in fact. I’m not sure what was in that vial but I want you far too much right now to deny it any longer. I won’t force myself on you though, so speak up if you don’t want it. This is your chance to reject my advances. If you don’t take it I’m going to kiss you.” 

His eyes grow so impossibly wide it looks like they just might fall right out of his head and go rolling off across the floor, and with it comes a sudden realization. What Rahid had said about that pink concoction. He’d never come right out with it but he also hadn’t stated that it would make her drunk either. That had been his own jump to conclusions on the matter. What he’d told Kaveh was that it would warm her up and that he used it with his wife in their old age. He’d said it would give him plenty of time to prove to Jeanne that he was serious about wanting to pursue her. It wasn’t an elixir for drunkards, it was an intimacy potion! 

Kaveh’s brain stumbles over that thought, hardly even daring to believe it, but the proof was looming over him with a hungry, voracious look of wanting darkening her face. That explained everything. Why she was so short of breath and her skin flushed with perspiration. He’d thought she was feeling ill after ingesting all that wine on top of the mystery fluid but clearly that was not the case. She was so worked up because she was indescribably aroused. 

And he was the sole focus of all her attention? 

The poor architect very nearly faints dead away on the spot. 

Desperately groping for some semblance of a hold on his composure though, he starts to open his mouth. He’d wanted to tell her he would rather talk this out instead of making any rash decisions when she was so obviously under the influence and her judgment was clouded, but his silence must have stretched on for much too long at that point. Because Jeanne abruptly swoops in and he just manages to suck in a surprised gasp before her lips crash into his. He violently jerks as if she’d electrocuted him but, in truth, she doesn’t even seem to notice it. She’s much too busy trying to devour him, claiming his mouth and dominating the kiss before he even has a chance to try and take the upper hand for himself. Like her role of total power and control in their dynamic was already a foregone conclusion. 

Hell, maybe it was. 

In a truly dizzying rush, white hot static surges through his system with all the subtlety of a powerful explosive going off and Kaveh instantly gives over to the intense, bone rattling yearning he harbors for her. Tipping his head, he hungrily kisses her back, softly groaning into her mouth. His lips tremble under the demanding push and pull of hers even as he instinctively brings his arms up to wrap them around her shoulders, clinging to her while his long fingers dig into the soft fabric of her blouse. Noising a brief sound of approval, rewarding him for his eager response, she gives his bottom lip a taunting bite before lowering herself to languorously stretch out on top of him.

There really isn’t much difference in their builds, he suddenly realizes with her body pressed up tight against his like that. They were almost the same height and her shoulders not much wider despite the obvious strength residing in them. In truth, they probably would’ve been just about evenly matched if only Kaveh had taken Al-Haitham’s advice and he’d spent a bit more time exercising his muscles instead of hunching over his drawing table late into the night on various projects. Not that it really mattered now, at this crucial juncture. It was clear he’d be no match for her in his current state even if he’d wanted to fight and wrestle with her for dominance. 

He doesn’t, though. He really, really doesn’t want to pretend to be something or someone he’s not, especially when Jeanne herself never made any qualms about who she was either. This was in many ways exactly what he’d been dreaming of. To have her on top of him, pinning him down and taking whatever she wanted from him, so he happily surrenders, all but melting against her and letting her set the pace however she saw fit. 

And she doesn’t hesitate to do so, either by virtue of her proud, natural inclination for being in control or perhaps it was just in response to his submissive body language. Where once they’d barely touched each other beyond an occasional friendly brush of their hands, Jeanne now shamelessly presses herself flush against him like her claim on the blond man was already a bygone matter of fact. It was as if every single one of his shameful fantasies was coming to life in real time and he almost chokes on the boiling rush of emotion that swells in his chest. 

A pathetically small whimper escapes him and in response the hand that had come up to possessively wrap around his throat relaxes before falling away altogether, sliding up to cup his cheek instead. Her fingers are feminine and dainty yet rough with worn callouses. The grip she usually used for holding her sword is especially powerful, and it has him shuddering against her as blunt nails dig in just enough for him to feel the pinprick, drawing another muffled gasp out of him. But she quickly releases his face in favor of reaching further back to sink her fingers into his hair. Closing her fist at the back of his head, Jeanne gives it an experimental yet no less insistent tug that has his lips warbling open with an accompanying mewl. 

To his groaning surprise, she doesn’t hesitate to take this chance and she plunges her tongue into Kaveh’s mouth to suggestively caress over his in a long, wet swipe and savor the taste of him on her palette. The buzzing daze that encompasses him only grows stronger still and he feels downright delirious even as he dips his head back against the sheets to better accept her conquest of him. 

She's quick to pull away though, leaving him sprawled out and panting underneath her. Issuing a faint groan of disappointment at the loss, he cracks his eyes open to peer up into her face. 

He’s only slightly surprised to find Jeanne’s breath is coming even quicker than before, her cheeks flushed hot in what he now recognized as eager excitement, but somehow she still didn’t look half as worked up as he felt. It probably would have made him laugh, if only he’d had the extra oxygen to do so. Even when that blasted potion was wreaking havoc on her self control she still managed to keep some hold on her composure. It was in many ways astounding. 

“You … you didn’t have to stop.” 

A quietly strained laugh rises in her throat, soft and husky, to accompany the slow lift at the corner of her mouth. 

“Oh, is that so? What an unexpected surprise this is turning out to be.” She murmurs, uncharacteristically doting in the way she speaks to him now. Looking confident and svelte in her eager glow, she pushes up to get a better look at him. “I must admit, there was a very real part of me that hoped things would turn out this way eventually. I didn’t want to approach you with unwarranted expectations though. We’ve already danced around each other for far too long for me to start making assumptions now, wouldn’t you agree? But I suppose I had nothing to be worried about this entire time. You’re a good boy, aren’t you Kaveh?” 

His throat cinches shut, making him cough around the startled sound that materializes from his mouth unbidden. She doesn’t seem to pay it much mind though, shifting her weight more to the side so she can glance down the length of his body with a pointed look. Obediently, and not knowing what else to do, Kaveh hesitantly tears his eyes from her face and follows suit. 

The straining tent in the front of his pants comes as more of a shock to him than it does her. She’d probably felt it as soon as she’d flattened herself to the front of him but that doesn’t stop Kaveh from sucking in a sharp, deeply embarrassed gasp. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire as he shyly draws his knees together in an attempt to conceal his arousal from her but it’s no use. He’s much too hard, and the tent remains. The sharp sting of humiliation almost brings tears to his eyes, and he whimpers softly in his distress. Not only was this unbelievably shameful but he also feared the possibility that she might dismiss him from her presence because of it. This wasn’t exactly the kind of overly enthusiastic reaction most women would want out of their potential partners, was it? 

But Jeanne, evidently, is not most women. She practically purrs, in fact, when she brings her hand down to gently trace the center line of his chest, down over his nervously flexing stomach and even further than that to finally reach the jutted bulge between his legs. Possessively, she curls her fingers around it and palms him with a subdued, taunting squeeze. He almost sobs right then and there, whining softly at the first glorious touch of her hand on him. 

He’d been anticipating this for so long, dreaming and fantasizing about what this exact moment might look like, and he was ashamed to realize how dangerously close he already was to busting in his pants. This was the effect Jeanne had on him. This is what she turned him into. 

“My, you’re certainly excited aren’t you? And to think, I hesitated so much for fear that you might not reciprocate my interest …”

“P - please,” 

“Hush, Kaveh. Now that I’ve finally got you in my bed I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You’re going to be good and do exactly as I say, aren’t you?” 

He quickly nods, swallowing so hard it almost makes him gag. “Yes. Yes, ma’am. I will. Anything.” 

Jeanne draws a slow, carefully controlled breath in response even as a distant shudder of anticipation wracks through her. “Ooh, look at you. Already so eager to please me. Is it possible you’ve also thought about this before?”

At his needy little whimper she offers another soft, velvety laugh that rushes straight to his cock, making it twitch in her hold. He’s so hard it almost hurts but he can’t quite bring himself to complain about that right now. Not when she was holding him like that and he could still taste the glorious flavor of her mouth on his tongue. So out of his mind with sharp tinged arousal, all he can do is offer up a faltering moan to accompany the dazed nod of his head. 

“I see. Then we are both fools, aren’t we? But are you certain you want to do this, Kaveh? I’m not the type of passive woman who will just indulge you long enough to get you off. If I’m to have you then I’ll have all of you.”  

He quietly seethes at the suggestion of what she was saying. It made it sound like he was some kind of honorable maiden about to be bedded by a chivalrous knight of the court, and the way his cock jumps in her hand makes it quite clear just how much he liked that idea. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and yet so deeply attractive that he wasn’t so sure he would’ve been able to reject anything at all she asked of him from here on out. She could have told him to go jump off the highest point of the Akademiya’s tallest spire and he wouldn’t have given it another thought. 

“I … gods, I think I’d be mad if you didn’t at this point. Please, Jeanne. I’m yours, however you want me.” 

Humming a brief sound of approval, she gives his straining erection one last, lingering squeeze before dragging her hand up to fiddle with the brooch that holds his mantle in place over his shoulders. While she works on that, she leans close again and brushes a teasing, featherlight kiss over his lips. Struggling to keep his breath evened out, Kaveh needily kisses her back but no amount of desperation on his part manages to prepare him for when she abruptly sits upright and throws one leg over his middle without any further buildup to that pivotal moment. 

Settling on top of him, she shoots him a sly little smile even as she reaches down to take his slack wrists in her hands. Folding them up above his head, she pins them down to the bed with her weight before hunching close again so she can claim his mouth the way he’d been hoping she would. Jeanne’s hunger is obvious in the way she kisses him as if she were trying to consume his very life force, and in the way she not so subtly grinds her pelvis against him. Even through the many layers of clothes still separating them he can feel the intense heat radiating out from between her legs, and he issues a soft whine when his balls draw up in warning. 

This wasn’t good. If he shot off in his pants before she even properly touched him skin to skin, he was never going to forgive himself. She may not have been very put off by his other shortcomings but he had a feeling this was one she wouldn’t be quite as willing to overlook. 

So with a great deal of effort he tears his mouth from hers, sucking in a ragged breath. “Nghn, J - Jeanne … I might - -“

She unexpectedly shoves her face into the line of his neck, nipping at his pulse, and he physically shakes straight down to his toes. This was exactly what he’d thought about doing to her back at the tavern and the irony of that isn’t lost on him. Having the roles reversed so completely, being on the receiving end of such amorous attention … 

“Ooh, I think — I might need a moment, please.” 

“Aww, what’s the matter, Kaveh? Do you already feel like you’re going to cum for me?” She purrs against his skin, laughing softly when he trembles so violently in response the bed distantly rattles. “Don’t worry. I know exactly how to get you ready for another round if I need to, so there’s nothing to fret about. You’re in good hands, I promise.” 

“W - what does that mean?” He squeaks, unable to keep the nervous trepidation out of his voice. 

Ignoring the question, Jeanne sits up on his stomach and lifts her hands to make quick work of her red tie, her finely made courtiers jacket and then her blouse which she practically rips off in her rush to get undressed. Kaveh, feeling unexpectedly scandalized by the unprecedented strips of creamy flesh being revealed to him, almost brings his hands up to shyly cover his face. He can’t quite rip his eyes away though and he outright stares at the full cups of her satiny brassiere in something not unlike disbelief. He’d never been so blessed with a more tantalizing, beautiful sight in all his life. 

“Now it’s your turn.” She murmurs, hungrily licking her lips as she sets her sights on the sash at the front of his waist. Giving it a good tug is all it takes to have it loosened and then she’s flipping the bottom of his flouncy shirt out of the way so she can get at his pants. 

Kaveh starts to protest, wanting to ask her to at least slow down, but a quick look at Jeanne’s expression makes him think better of it. She was going to chew him up and spit him out one way or another, there probably wasn’t any point in stalling the inevitable. 

Clenching his hands into tight fists, he simply watches as she gets his slacks unfastened and then roughly yanks them down. A soft whimper rises in his throat but she pays it little mind, much too focused on getting them yanked off right along with his shoes. She doesn’t hesitate to come back for his underwear and his cock is soon springing up to arc through the air with a rigid bounce, making him hiss at the sensation as much as at being suddenly exposed. Feeling rather self conscious of his sudden nudity, he snaps his attention up to fretfully gauge her reaction. 

The pleased smile that slowly pulls at her mouth catches him off guard, and he nervously fidgets under the watchful spotlight of her attention. 

“Well, Kaveh, I must say you’ve got a rather pretty cock, don’t you? I expected as much given how lovely you are in the face, but …” 

Eagerly, Jeanne reaches out to wrap her fingers around him and he jolts at the abrupt contact, teeth clenching in an attempt to stave off his impending release. She hadn’t seemed worried about it but he really had no idea what she’d meant by knowing how to get him ready for another round. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out. 

“Mm, and you’re sensitive too. How delightful. I wonder what would happen if I just …” 

With a tauntingly slow motion of her hand, she tugs up on his cock and drags her hand from about mid shaft up to the head. Kaveh gives a full bodied, lurching jerk in response, letting out a gutted moan when her fist makes the foreskin bunch over his tender glans. He clenches his toes so hard it actually hurts, desperately trying to will his orgasm away, but if she felt any sympathy for him she certainly doesn’t show it. She simply pulls her fist down, retracing the path she’d already taken once, and he outright chokes when it draws the skin back from the glans entirely with a sticky wet click. 

“Oh my,” She breathes out, sounding a little surprised and a lot excited. “That’s quite a lot of precum, isn’t it? You must have really wanted this bad.” 

“I - I’m sorry,” He whimpers, his flat stomach dramatically flexing under the tension. “I can’t — I don’t think I can hold it …” 

“Is that so? And if I tell you I’ll give you a reward?” He shoots her a harried look of confusion and Jeanne smiles rather magnanimously in return. “If you can avoid cumming for the next five minutes, I’ll treat you to something really nice. How does that sound, hm?”

Archons above, she was trying to kill him! 

At his helplessly weak nod, she offers a quiet sound of approval and an encouraging squeeze to his shaft. His hips fruitlessly buck under the sensation but he quickly stills them again when she starts to drag her hand back up at a painfully sedate pace, caressing him in torturous slow motion. Full on wheezing, Kaveh screws his eyes shut and forces himself to stay still even when his muscles start to vibrate with the intense urge to give in. To follow after her grip and thrust into her fingers, to let loose and spasm for all he was worth. Even putting aside the reward she’d mentioned, he just didn’t want to disappoint her. 

So he simply lies there and takes it while she jerks him off at such a staggered, halting pace he really feels like he just might go mad. It was hard just to breathe around it let alone think, and as a result the only thing he can do is focus his cotton stuffed head on not cumming. He repeats it again and again, like a lifesaving mantra, but he’s so close that it feels like a lost cause. His balls are heavy and they ache fiercely where they’re drawn up tight against his scrotum, so close to shooting off but forced to hold back. This was hell. Glorious, mind numbing hell and it existed squarely within the confines of this bed. 

“Such a good boy you are,” She coos another moment later, making him heave and desperately arch up off the bed at the inviting sound of her voice. His narrow, shaking hips are the only part of him that stays rooted to the mattress while the rest of him desperately twists with back bending need, grunting at the effort of trying to stave off his release. “You’re doing so well for me. I can tell how close you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just let go and - -“ 

Cutting her off with a strangled, partially horrified moan, Kaveh can’t stop himself from thrusting up into her grip any longer and he does so with such force it makes something in his lower spine pop. That’s all it takes, just that one hurried rush of movement, and his cock pitifully erupts in a sudden stream of milky white discharge. He cums with a hardly dignified sound, gutted and elated in equal measure. Spurt after spurt, it just keeps coming to paint her knuckles white and stain the bottom of his loose fitted shirt, until finally it runs dry with one last aching twitch that leaves him desperately wheezing. 

“Oh, god!” Bonelessly, Kaveh collapses back into the bed, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. It takes him a prolonged moment to get his bearings straight, or at least enough to comprehend that he was still alive and Jeanne was very much not a figment of his imagination, and he slowly lifts his head to glance down at her. 

Smiling slyly, she rather daintily releases his cock and holds her hand up to show off the incriminating evidence coating her hand. “I���m afraid you only lasted about two minutes and thirty seconds but …” 

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” He says in a rush, but she continues on as if he hadn’t even spoken. 

“I’ll admit that was still longer than I thought you’d manage to pull off. With the way you were acting, I’d half expected you to lose it in under a minute.”

Practically withering in shame, Kaveh shyly draws his knees together but Jeanne is quick to palm his legs apart again. A soft whimper escapes him at the sticky smear she leaves along his thigh, like a reminder of his failure. This was not quite how he’d envisioned this unfolding. 

“Don’t fret, now. I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Besides,”

Peeking up at the pointed tone in her voice, the blond warily follows her line of sight down to his groin and a soft mewl escapes him at the sight of his cock, still half hard and stirring with interest. He’d cum so hard he almost felt numb from the waist down now but there was no getting around what he was looking at. It wasn’t going to take much to have him at full strength again. That much was obvious. 

“I can go again,” He quickly stammers before she can jump into action and take care of it for him. “I’m sure I’ll last longer this time too. But you should — you should really let me take care of you first. I promise I’m good with my mouth.”

“I’m sure you are.” She agrees, smiling at him like she knew he was stalling for time and she thought it was cute. “But I don’t think that will be necessary. You’re going to take care of me another way, Kaveh.” 

Pulling back from him completely, Jeanne takes a moment to withdraw a handkerchief from the pocket of her trousers with her unsoiled hand and she uses it to wipe the cum off the other. Carelessly tossing it aside, she then sets her hands to work on her pants and he tenderly winces when his spent cock bobs with growing excitement at the implication of what was to come. She genuinely was trying to kill him, he decides. And she was doing a spectacular job of it so far. 

“Be a good boy and take off the rest of your clothes for me, hm?” 

It takes everything Kaveh has not to outright sob as he obediently sits up and starts tugging off his shirt. Soon the both of them are completely naked, save the sleek black bra Jeanne leaves on for the time being, and he self consciously brings his arms up to wrap them around his chest when she returns to him on the bed. He feels more than a little foolish for it, like some awkward maiden that wasn’t used to being seen in such a vulnerable state — and, really, that actually wasn’t far from the truth — but she doesn’t seem to be half as disappointed by that as he may have once feared she would be. 

If anything, Jeanne actually looks quite pleased with the blond in her bed, and she reaches out to gently take his shoulders once she’s kneeling next to him. “Lay down?” 

He complies, eager pinpricks erupting along his skin where her hands touch him. Of course he’d known he was pathetically, regrettably weak for her long before this, but looking up at her now he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she really was the one for him. Who else could even compare? No one was as strong as Jeanne, nor as pretty. No other woman came from a background of aristocratic opulence while behaving like she did. She was — everything, wasn’t she? 

“Good. Now, be good for me and let me have my fun, okay?” 

Swallowing his nerves down, Kaveh offers a single nod and Jeanne coos at him very softly in response, assuring him that he was making the right choice for once in his life. Bracing her hands against his narrow chest, she confidently throws her leg over his middle again but this time she keeps her pelvis angled up rather than immediately settling on top of him. He feels downright hysterical when she reaches for his cock and possessively wraps her fingers around it. Despite the fact he was still recovering from his first orgasm, it immediately flexes in her hold to stand at attention. Obedient and loyal, just like his heart was, apparently. 

He seethes softly under his breath at the ache in his overwrought loins but doesn’t try to fight it as she angles him towards her cunt and the glorious thatch of red hair there, a shade darker than that on her head. A vague sense of panic does make his chest expand with a sharp gasp though, and he fumbles his hands down to grab hold of her hips. So soft and womanly under his fingers, yet indescribably powerful when they flex with the motion of lowering herself onto him. 

Truthfully Kaveh hadn’t thought it was possible to get any more worked up then he already was, yet the first silky soft brush of her wet lips against his glans has him feeling dangerously close to passing out. Contrary to his earlier statement, he was not going to last any longer than he had the first time. 

“W - wait —“ 

“Are you nervous, Kaveh?” She laughs, the sound so inviting and teasing it very nearly has him going cross eyed with the intense surge of fresh arousal that sparks in him. “Don’t overthink it. Just lie back, relax and let me have my fun, hm? You want to please me, don’t you?” 

“Ahh … y - yes, ma’am. I do.” 

Breathing out a clipped, anticipatory sigh, Jeanne sedately drags him back and forth through the wet folds and creases of her cunt, ensuring that he was nice and sticky too. Not that he thought he needed it when she already felt like she was soaked so penetration was sure to be a nonissue, but it certainly felt good. Heavenly, actually. 

Fingers sinking into the soft give of her hips, he silently pleads with any god willing to listen for his stamina not to give out at the worst possible time. 

Another anticipatory moment later, she finally angles him back towards her entrance and starts to sink the rest of the way down. The blinding rush of heat that all at once envelops him damn near sends him careening over the edge right then and there, but he valiantly holds it back with a sobbing little hiss. Clutches at her like his life depended on it, and it very well might, while Jeanne gradually takes him deeper and deeper into her body one inch at a time. Just as he’d suspected, she was already perfectly lubricated and he gives a powerless curse under his breath, stealing a harried glance between them to watch her swallow him down to the base. Her thick curls are a poignant contrast to his coarser, ashen brown ones, but they look right at home mingling together like that. 

“Bless the seven - -!”

“Mmnn, you feel so good, Kaveh. You’re just where I want you to be.” Giving a taunting wriggle of her hips to make him sensitively wince, Jeanne reaches for one of his hands. Slides it around to the front of her abdomen and presses down on a certain spot along her lower stomach. “Right there. Can you feel it? That’s how deep you are.” 

The wordless noise he lets out is rife with distress, and he sucks in a horribly frazzled breath in an attempt to steady his nerves a little bit. She just laughs though, another soft, liltingly husky sound that makes him want to cry out. 

And he does, mewling a huffy noise into the statically charged air when she leans forward to square her balance in the center, on her toes and with her hands palming his chest. She starts to move then, keeping her motions short and experimental at first while she gets a better feel for him and how he hits her most pleasure inducing spots. It doesn’t take long for her to pick up the pace though and she begins to bounce in earnest, taking him in long, drawn out plunges now. 

Flicking her long braid over her shoulder mid bounce, Jeanne pins him with a salacious grin. “Yeah, right there. You’ve got it. Ahhn, you’re such a good boy for me. You’d better not, nghn, bust as quickly as the first time. Not before I get mine.” 

“J - Jeanne —“ 

He sounds incredibly whiny even to his own ears but he can’t help it. Not when he could feel his cock throbbing inside her, still tender from getting hard again much too soon after already cumming once, and she didn’t seem to care. She was clearly much more concerned with her own pleasure now, enthusiastically chasing that gratification on top of him, but that just seems to ratchet his own excitement up even further. The more she took from him the more he wanted to give, the higher his arousal seemed to climb. 

It is with no shortage of horror that Kaveh realizes he’s going to cum again, not because she was riding him so expertly, but because she was using him for her own pleasure and that was getting him off more than anything. Even in all his fantasies and wistful daydreams, he’d never imagined that having her treat his cock like her own personal toy would turn him on quite this much. 

“Oh! Shit! I - if you don’t slow down, Jeanne, I’m - -“ 

Her hips start to come down faster, harder in response, and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin rises louder in the air. He practically chokes on it, squirming underneath her as every muscle in his body rapidly tenses up in preparation to blow another load and simultaneously to try and stave it off. It wasn’t just overwhelming, it was downright mind numbing, and he pathetically whimpers even as his eyes start to roll back in his head. 

Too much. It was too much. 

“Please — please —“ He’s babbling, his mouth running on autopilot now, but still she doesn’t seem to care. 

His cock was hers to use however she saw fit and it was clear she wanted it thrusting deep into her guts right now. It feels like every ounce of blood in his body rushes down to his groin all at once, making it swell to uncomfortable proportions as his balls tightly draw up again. He tries to hold back, really, but it’s all too much for him to bear. The wet warmth of her body gripping him like a vice, the breathy sounds that slip from her mouth and the all encompassing smell of her cloying on the back of his tongue. He was powerless before it. 

And he cums again, just like that. His strangled, frantic moan is high pitched and bordering on frantic as he shoots off inside her but even then she just keeps going. Even when his cock finishes spraying her inner sleeve with white, creamy clumps, she just keeps riding him. The only response he gets that indicates she’s even aware of it happening is a low, huffy groan in the back of her throat but it doesn’t so much as make her pause. 

His hands practically cramp up from how hard he’s clutching at her, roughly sucking in a series of wet, faltering breaths. His body can’t take it when every conceivable inch of him was painfully throbbing in protest at the continuous stimulation. The sensation is sharp and stabbing, and he finally throws his head back against the sheets to helplessly wail up at the ceiling. 

“Oh, Kaveh,” She finally murmurs another moment later. “Are you crying?”

His eyes snap open so suddenly it takes them a heartbeat or two to catch up and make any sense of the visual input. Just in time to watch Jeanne lean over him, getting close to his face and alternating her previous bouncing motion to a slower, more savory grind that makes him wince in his oversensitized state. She doesn’t seem to pay it any mind though, her teal eyes taking in his face with obvious delight. 

“You poor thing,” Breathing out softly, she slides one hand up from his chest, over his neck and higher still to cup his cheek. “You really are tender, aren’t you? I wasn’t expecting to make you cry until at least the third round.” 

Kaveh’s taxed heart nearly gives out right then and there. “T - third round? You … you can’t be serious - -“

“I’m very serious, I’m afraid. I’m not sure what else you expected when you gave me an aphrodisiac though. Don’t tell me you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?” 

“Aph - wait, you knew?” 

“Well, I didn’t at the time but I’ve certainly figured it out by now. In all honesty, I picked up very early on that you were acting rather strange today but I hadn’t expected you to go to such lengths just to get me into bed. All you’d had to do was ask, you know.” 

He just gapes up at her, big, wet glistening tears beading along his lash line to make them clump together. What she was saying wasn’t just inconceivable, it didn’t make any sense! If she’d suspected something amiss, if she’d had any doubts about his intentions then …

His eyes suddenly go big and round. “You — that’s what you meant earlier … about unwarranted expectations?”

She smiles at him, a vaguely mischievous, sly little smile, and exhales a savory sigh. “Yeah, but I’d say that’s a moot point now, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve already made you cry so …” Closing the distance, Jeanne’s tongue flicks out to lap up a salty tear from his cheek and he startles like she’d shocked him. That only makes her laugh though, and she pulls back to sit upright again so she can reach behind her to unclasp the hooks on her bra. “Let’s continue, shall we? I’ve got something special in mind for that overly eager cock of yours.” 

Satiny cups fall away, revealing her bare breasts to him at long last, and Kaveh sucks in such a harsh, flustered gasp it almost sounds like he’s choking. Pleased with his reaction, she tosses the garment aside and then much to his slack jawed surprise, she moves to dismount from him. His spent cock slips free humiliatingly fast and wetly flops down to rest across his lower belly, completely soft now. 

Self consciously, Kaveh reaches down to gingerly cover himself from her scrutiny but she merely turns to climb down off the bed as if it were none of her concern. Maybe it wasn’t, and he practically withers at the thought. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me.” She says, not bothering to look back at him while she tugs open a drawer on the nightstand. 

“Please, Jeanne, I don’t think I can handle another round so soon.” He groans, even as he slowly pushes himself up to sit. It wasn’t just his cock that felt sore and achy, his entire body hurt at this point. “If you just give me, I don’t know, an hour, I’m sure we’ll have much better results.” 

“You really expect me to wait that long?” 

“W - well, no, but - -“

“Hands and knees, Kaveh. Now.” 

Whimpering softly, he does as he’s been told and turns over to assume the position. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had in store for him but there were certainly a few sinking suspicions running through his mind, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for any of them. Mentally or physically, it seemed he really had bitten off more than he could conceivably chew. 

She soon returns to him, evidently having found what she was looking for and crawling up onto the bed to kneel just behind him. He can’t quite bring himself to look back at her, a little too embarrassed by everything that has already happened here today as much as the unseemly pose he was currently in to face her head on. He was also more than a bit nervous too, and he decidedly did not want her to see that reflecting back at her in his expression. Sure, Kaveh may have been fruitlessly grasping at straws here, but he was dead set on preserving whatever minuscule amount of his pride he still had left. 

Which was decidedly not much at all. 

“Relax for me. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I know that …” 

But did he really, though? He trusted her, yes, but there was a very real part of him that didn’t know what to expect in the coming moments and that made him understandably a bit jittery. 

That fact is very poignantly highlighted when she touches him, placing her hand along his lower back, and he jolts so hard he nearly comes right up off the bed. Chuckling softly at the reaction, Jeanne rubs comforting, coaxing circles into his skin as if she were encouraging an overly skittish pup to settle down. 

“So jumpy. Have I actually done anything to make you this nervous yet?” 

He grumbles a low, noncommittal sound, not entirely sure he trusted himself to speak when he was as naked as the day he was born and spread out on her bed on full display. His reticence quickly proves to be a moot point though, because when she drags her hand down to the cleft where his ass starts, he outright yelps in surprise. 

“Wait - -“ 

“Unfortunately I don’t have the time or the patience for that right now. You said you were going to be a good boy for me, didn’t you?” 

“ I — I did, but …” 

“Then do as I say and relax. I promise you aren’t going to hate this half as much as you think you will.” 

Groaning softly, Kaveh hangs his head in a clear sign of defeat and Jeanne takes that chance to readjust her position behind him, settling directly between his knees now. Both of her hands come up to cup his cheeks, giving them each a savory, appreciative squeeze, and he mewls very quietly when she spreads them apart. His face positively blazes with the knowledge that she was looking at his most private areas uninterrupted and he restlessly fidgets as a result. 

He feels her lean close then and he braces himself — for what, he isn’t sure, but it’s certainly not the wet swipe of her tongue across the tight pucker of his asshole. The sensation is unmistakable and jarring, and he instinctively tries to shy away from it with a frazzled yelp. 

“Jeanne!” He shrills, further embarrassing himself with the high pitch of his voice. 

“Goodness, you really are like an innocent virgin, aren’t you?”��

He doesn’t exactly have a comeback for that, not when he was certainly acting like one, so he just settles on a vague sound of disagreement. 

Chuckling, she leans into him again and, now that he actually knows what’s coming, he clenches his teeth to stay any of the humiliating sounds that rise in his chest at the next swipe of her tongue. It’s a bit less shocking this time but no less confusing when he can’t make any sense of why she would be doing this. Surely she wasn’t … she didn’t plan to - -

“Don’t tense up so much,” She murmurs against him, warm breath fanning over his skin and tickling the sticky wrinkle of his hole. He feels a slight twitch in his groin in response to the featherlight sensation but it’s not near enough to have him springing back up to full attention again. 

So he simply takes it with as much grace as he possibly can, passively letting her lap at him without protest until he can eventually feel the tight rim start to puff up under her ministrations. The muscle was slackening and giving way, allowing her more freedom to poke and prod at the center to tease the suggestion of penetration. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that or any of this, but he doesn’t protest even when she seals her mouth around him and gently starts to suckle. Now he felt overwhelmed in a completely different way than before, and he wheezes quietly under his breath. This was unfamiliar territory for him, completely uncharted, but it is his implicit trust in Jeanne that keeps him from bolting like a frightened rabbit. 

And just like the easily frightened hare, he all but quails when she finally pulls back some moments later to fiddle with something behind him. He didn’t want to look, couldn’t bring himself to look, but he quickly figures out what she’s up to when her fingers come up to touch him and they’re unnaturally sticky with grease, genuine surprise making his heart stutter a beat. 

Dear god, she was really going to do this! 

“Ah, J - Jeanne, are you sure that’s - -“ 

She carefully pushes, dipping one digit just inside the tight ring of muscle without stopping long enough to hear him out, and he instantly blurts out a wordless sound of startled shock. Unable to stop himself anymore, he snaps his head around to peer over his shoulder at her but she just offers up a vaguely conspiratorial smile. 

“You’re tensing up again.” 

“Well, can you really blame me!” 

“No, not really. But trust me, you’ll find you’re much more keen here in just a moment.” 

He doesn’t believe that. He doesn’t believe that at all, not when his hole was weakly pulsing around the intrusion in a way that made him feel panicky and trapped, and that was to say absolutely nothing of the sharply felt pangs of embarrassment he could feel creeping up his neck. 

But then she pushes in a little deeper, slipping in down to the second joint, and his entire body seizes in response, igniting a red hot, tingling sensation low in his gut. His mouth drops open in surprise but nothing comes out, his chest rapidly contracting with the quick gasps he pulls in. It still didn’t exactly feel good, or at least he’s pretty sure it doesn’t, but he felt … something from it. Something that takes his breath away and threatens to suffocate him. He’d never been penetrated like this before but to have Jeanne doing it, carefully fingering his body open, it occurred to him much too late that she was probably right. He probably was going to like this if she was the one doing it. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” He wheezes, fighting the instinctive urge to pull away when she just keeps going, dipping her finger further in until he feels the obvious press of her knuckle flush against his hole. Swaying unsteadily on his hands and knees, he frantically gropes for his frazzled thoughts for something to say. “That’s — hold on, please, just … take it slow, okay?” 

“Didn’t I already tell you I don’t have time for that, Kaveh? You’re going to take what I give you however I see fit to give it. Do you understand?” 

Not waiting for him to respond (as if he even could respond to that), Jeanne angles her finger down and gently massages along his inner wall. The sensation is strange and he still can’t quite decide if it was pleasurable or not, so he just squirms in place while she feels along his guts. At least it didn’t hurt. That seems to be his one and only consolation in this confusing situation he’s gotten himself in, and for that he was thankful. 

“Ah,” She suddenly blurts. “Found it.” 

He almost finds himself asking what it is she’s found in his ass of all places but he doesn’t quite make it any farther than opening his mouth. She abruptly angles that insidious digit downward, digging into his interior wall, and a shock of static electricity immediately shoots through his entire system with enough force to damn near bowl him right over. He comes very close to full on wailing in response even as his hips subconsciously buck under the pressure and his cock gives a distant, muted twitch. 

Icy fear promptly races down his spine. No. No, it couldn’t be — 

She repeats the motion, massaging down into that unimaginably sensitive bundle of nerves with a forceful curl of her finger, and his knees almost give out in response. He understood now what it was she wanted but he was helpless to stop it at this point, outright sobbing while she expertly turned his own body against him. No matter how much he tries to fight it or will it away, his cock was slowly coming back to life with each twist of her hand even when it hurt to do so. He was still much too sore after two consecutive orgasms but even through the discomfort he still gradually starts to harden again. 

Left with no other choice, Kaveh finally allows his upper body to sink down onto the bed where he folds his arms and buries his face in their protective cradle. He’d never be able to look Jeanne in the face after this. It had already started off bad enough when he’d shot his load in under four minutes but it had only continued to get worse from there, and now she was fingering his asshole to coax yet another erection out of him. 

Somehow it doesn’t even come as a surprise when the tears start up again. 

“There you go. Just look at you.” She murmurs approvingly some odd minutes later when his cock has finally finished filling out and it was now a heavy, hanging weight between his legs. “If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t even think you’ve gone one round yet.” 

“Nnghnoogh, please, Jeanne. This is hardly, aghhn, the time for jokes.” 

“You’re right. Well, let’s get you fitted then.”

Kaveh blinks through the tears, wondering what she was talking about now, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. She starts to slowly pull her finger out without any further warning and he whines at the resulting drag against his guts when the muscle tries to cling to her on the way out. It’s like she doesn’t even notice though, or perhaps she doesn’t care, and she slips free with a tiny little slurp from his clenching entrance. Physically cringing at the sound, he shoves his face further into the comfort of his arms and tries very hard not to sob. 

He can hear her fiddling with something behind him but he’s a little too far gone to wonder about what the next trial might be. He’d find out sooner or later anyway, and in this case it turns out to be quite soon. 

Carefully, her hands slip something over his rigid cock and draws it up to the base. It feels vaguely like leather, and that thought is quickly solidified in his mind when she tightens it until the material cinches around him in a tight squeeze that is resoundingly uncomfortable on his already nerve sensitive skin. Sucking in a sharp breath, Kaveh shoves himself up on his elbows so he can peer down at himself. Sure enough, the black thong secured around his scrotum is obvious and speaks for itself. The message was clear. If he couldn’t control himself enough to hold back his orgasms until she was satisfied then she’d help him out. Give him a nudge in the right direction. 

He absolutely hated how familiar that sentiment sounded. 

“You can’t — you can’t do that, Jeanne! It’s too tight and … that’s not fair, is it? I could have used my mouth.” 

“Ooh, are you whining, Kaveh? Such a sad little thing you are. Unfortunately it’s not your mouth I want right now though.” Rising up, she leans over him so she can press herself flush along his back. Her hand comes around to curl under his chin and manually turn his face up at her, and he offers her a tiny little sniffle to go with the puppy eyed face he makes. “What I want is that pretty cock you’ve got between your legs and you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you? Hm?” 

“Nnghn … yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. Now switch me spots.” 

She peels away from him so she can move up a little higher on the bed while he gingerly gets himself situated on his knees. Even just a brief glance down at the state of his poor cock, swollen and darkened by the tight band cutting off the circulation to keep him hard and ready, is enough to make him feel light headed with overwhelm. He’d wanted this though, had practically begged any god willing to listen for even just one real chance with Jeanne, and he knew better than to fight it. He’d dug this hole for himself so, with an accompanying sniffly, he compliantly moves to position himself between the bend of her knees when she gets settled on her back. And looking down at her spread out like that, he dully realizes that he’s never been happier in all his life. 

It wasn’t just that she was pushing his body right to its limits while simultaneously keeping the important bits of him grounded in reality, although that was certainly gratifying in its own right too. It also wasn’t a simple matter of fulfilling and acting on his long held attraction for her, making his fantasies a reality. Rather, there was something about this power dynamic between them that just made him feel whole and complete, like he’d been born just to play this role for her. He’d experienced felt anything quite like it before, and it is with an immense amount of nervous anticipation that he lines himself up with her entrance. 

“I’m going to do it.” He announces, thinking it was for her benefit, but she immediately shoots that idea down when she tsk’s very softly in response. 

“What did I tell you about relaxing, Kaveh? Don’t worry. I’m confident you’re going to do an excellent job.” 

As if to prove that, she reaches between them and wraps her fingers around his straining length, giving it a tight squeeze. He shudders, feeling every little thing in high definition when the nerves were so sensitized and swollen with excess blood. It’s hard just to breathe through it but she helps him with this as well by gently guiding him back into place and encouraging him with a slow tug. 

Clutching her soft thighs in a death grip, Kaveh follows the suggestion with his hips and pushes forward, spearing into hot creases and folds in torturous slow motion. He can’t quite bring his body to move any faster than that and he lets out a frazzled, high pitched keening sound when he starts to sink inside her body again. It felt even more intense than it did the first time, and he surely had the black thong cinched tight around his scrotum to thank for that. Almost like having a transcendental experience, it makes his soul feel like it’s flickering out at the edges.  

He keeps going though, a little too far gone within the heightened daze of his arousal to think of anything else other than burying himself as deep into Jeanne as he could reasonably go, and he doesn’t stop until his pelvis is flush with hers. Letting out a wounded, faltering grunt, he sways unsteadily over top of her. Tries to ground himself to no avail. He wasn’t going to come out of this on the other side the same person he’d once been. Of that he’d never been more certain.  

“Kaveh,” She says his name so soft, so dotingly, as her hands come up to cup his face and angle it down at her. “You’re crying again, my love. Do you really like being inside me that much?” 

Numbly nodding his head even while the tears continue to streak hot tracks down his cheeks, the blond fumbles for something to say before finally settling on, “I do. Of course I do, but … I want to make you feel good too.” 

A slow smile curls Jeanne’s mouth, more sly and knowing than it is sweet, but like a loyal dog Kaveh is just happy to get whatever he can. He doesn’t mind the way she looks at him like a hungry, powerful predator sizing up its prey and he doesn’t mind the way she reaches down to possessively grope at his chest either. Despite him being almost totally flat and lacking in much to grab, that doesn’t stop her from pinching at his poor little breast until he hisses, half in discomfort and half in pleasure. This, too, he was happy to be on the receiving end of. 

“You are making me feel good, you silly thing. But I’d feel even better if you started moving already. I’m not much for cock warming, you know.” 

He blushes straight up to his ears, stammering out a quick apology. Unconcerned, Jeanne slides her hand further down and then back to reach for his tight ass, giving it an appreciative jostle. 

“Quickly, now. If you don’t act soon I’ll have to fuck you instead and show you how it’s done. Considering the way you reacted just from having my finger inside you I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet, are you?” 

“N - no, ma’am. I’m not.” 

“Didn’t think so. Then get moving.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[multiplicity-positivity]

Here’s some positivity for traumatized system protectors!

Being a headmate with a protective role can at times be exhausting, challenging, overwhelming, and downright scary. System protectors often face difficult, violent, or frightening situations in order to protect the rest of their system, and sometimes this can come at a great cost to the protector’s own health and well-being. This post goes out to all the system protectors out there who have been traumatized in some way!

🛡 Shoutout to protectors whose trauma history has made them jumpy, nervous, awkward, or easily startled!

💖 Shoutout to protectors who are also trauma holders, or whose trauma causes them to be separated from the rest of their system!

☀️ Shoutout to ex-protectors and those who are no longer able to effectively protect their system due to their trauma history!

🛡 Shoutout to protectors who split to cope with a traumatic situation and now can only front when their system is facing new trauma!

💖 Shoutout to protectors who are often dissociated, listless, dazed, or confused!

☀️ Shoutout to protectors who feel like they can’t relate to or connect with the rest of their system!

🛡 Shoutout to protectors whose trauma has left them angry, bitter, irritable, or spiteful!

💖 Shoutout to protectors who are not brave or tough, or who struggle to meet the expectations of their headmates or others outside their system!

☀️ Shoutout to protectors whose trauma has caused them to develop a subsystem or strange, unorthodox, or maladaptive coping habits!

🛡 Shoutout to protectors who struggle with flashbacks, panic attacks, depression, nightmares, or other symptoms of PTSD!

💖 Shoutout to protectors who stay loving fiercely and are committed to practicing kindness, compassion, and generosity despite their trauma history!

It is an unfortunate fact that many system protectors may form as a result of trauma or end up traumatized at some point in their lives. We genuinely hope that each protector who reads this can find hope, peace, comfort, and recovery in their future! Know that it’s okay for a protector to need or want support or a break every now and then. It’s okay to slow down, take a step back, acknowledge your needs, and breathe!

Please remember that you are valued and deserving of love and respect just the way you are. Regardless of your current capabilities, how you are coping with your trauma, and how you currently understand yourself and your system, you are worthy of kindness and compassion, no ifs ands or buts about it! We care about you, and we truly wish that you can find the resources and support you need in order to live your best life. Thanks so much for reading, and take care!

[mamayan]

This is just some brain thought I had after reading your latest delicious creation of the baby trapping yan. But why aren’t there more stories or at least short hc lists of what life is like post preg with a yan? I wanna know what the child/s think of their family dynamic of yan and spouse. Does the child/s end up normal? Do they end up platonic yan for non yan parent? Is child/s relationship with yan good? Is it bad? I just feel like it’s such an untapped market for stories and ideas. Cause life still goes on even after the HEA…and having a child/s with yan changes so much of behavioral, situational, etc. of the story compared to pre prego that all the ifs ands buts put so much more on stake. Sorry for tangent. Just needed to get my thoughts out

You got a point Nonnie~

cw: Yandere Themes • Child Care

After Thoughts

“Mama!” Giggles and laughter always fill the space left behind.

Your cheeks hurt from laughter, the sun slowly setting as you curl up with a thin book, hugging the small soft toddler still trying to wiggle out of your arms for another round of chase.

“Papa! Chase! Chase!” Only relenting their struggle as your voice begins the slow fairy tale they know so well.

“Once upon a time there was a princess…” you chuckle at the inside joke, eyes twinkling at they catch his, the satisfaction and pride in his gaze addicting. “She was lonely and lost, until…” you drawl out, finally grasping the small child’s full attention.

“The Prince came! I know mama!” Their happy cheer only encouraging you as you continue the story.

“She was so lonely without the Prince, but she didn’t know her Prince was really her Prince, so she put him through a series of tests.” You turn the page, the warm room filling with the sound of paper moving. “The Prince had to know every detail of the Princess, if he didn’t, how could he be her Prince? So he learned everything. What her favorite food was, favorite color, and even the things she didn’t like.”

“Like brussel sprouts?” Their little nose bunches up, showing their clear dislike for the leafy green.

“Mhm, even that,” you nod, kissing their soft cheek as a weight draped over your shoulders, dragging you both into a solid embrace.

His eyes look cool and calculating at times, confusion occasionally catching you off guard as he directs that icy stare your way, freezing your blood in your veins.

“B-but that’s not all! The Prince loved the Princess so much, he built her a beautiful castle!” You feel the heavy pressure on your shoulders lessen, his arm wrapping more protectively than possessively around you.

Your heart is slow to settle even as you continue the story, until he interrupts.

“The Princess didn’t like the castle right away, even though it had everything she liked.” His deep timbre right next to your ear as you swallow thickly and hug the child tighter, their wide innocent stare clueless and naive.

“Why Papa?”

“Because she didn’t know any better. Sometimes when we don’t know any better, we get scared and make mistakes. That’s okay though, the Prince was very patient, and made sure the Princess understood how dangerous it was outside the castle.”

You stiffen minutely as he traces a small strand of hair off your ear, your eyes vacant as they stare at the corner of the book.

“And they lived happily ever after?” Your toddler asks in such a soft tone, it’s hardly audible.

“Yes” he breathes, teeth carefully pressing into your neck for a quick open mouthed kiss.

“They lived happily ever after in the beautiful castle, having an adorable little baby as proof of their love.” His grin is sharp, canines pronounced as your child chirps with joy and claps in excitement.

You smile, wobbly and weak, as a hand wraps around your neck and forces your head up and back.

His eyes just barely open, a dark amusement in their depths at the glittering tears hanging on your lash line.

Dividers by the lovely @benkeibear

[deathsbestgirl]

so just watched "how to bandage a wound" and read this post and i'm rewatching season one (not being able to binge it anymore is a very difficult change for me lol) and just oh. my. god.

i was completely on board for whatever david & kristen having going on from the pilot. and i always loved ben. but kristen & ben literally hit me on the head like an anvil in "the demon of cults" and again in "how to split an atom" — and so now, i just finished my second watch of "3 stars" and ben literally creates a deepfake of kristen's conversation with leland. like you guys!!! that's so insane. half of his job is exposing things like that, but it's kristen, it's her daughters. and when she's stunned & awed, he gets all flummoxed and stutters a little, trying to minimize the gesture & what he can do. i Love it.

the nuances in their relationships are so interesting to me, and their connections go beyond attraction. as in they are real & deep and any feelings they may have don't decide their relationships.

ANYWAY. i was thinking about ben telling renee that he told her he had commitment issues — and like, yes absolutely. but...i feel like he's been working through that with david & kristen. why is he still working for the church? he likes david & kristen. ben is capital T there when they need him. no questions asked. no ifs ands or buts. ben is There and he does whatever he can for them. literally in the latest episode, in the middle of the night ben is filling a hole in kristen's basement while his supposed girlfriend is waiting for him at home. and he didn't even tell her what was going on lol

(also really liked what they were saying in the linked post. connecting it to ben's mental health struggles from earlier in the show. and what we just learned about ben's parents, the way he struggles so much with his mom's death & their relationship, and i've been wondering about his sister's baby. it just sounds like there's a lot he's kept bottled up & never understood but definitely still impacted him. AND i'm always wondering about vanessa. something about this just reminds me of her situation.)

and again, so so interesting to me the way kristen brings ben around the house & her daughters more than she does david. i keep thinking of kristen & ben as a slow burn, like all these little things (and the big things) keep building onto each other — what's between them is unquestionable to me!! this is something that will take me a few watches to really be able to put it into words. right now it's just Feelings and sound bites.

generally speaking, the relationships on the show are incredible. i love every single one. like, they even got me more on board with andy. impressive really. one day maybe i'll talk about sheryl, she's particularly fascinating. and i will be screaming about sister andrea. i love her (just remembered kristen talking to her about fenna 😭)

[toothpastecanyon]

Hey there! I was looking through some of the old Quarantine AU posts, ands I came across this fantastic fic written by you! (Giving up, Giving in)

It’s really intriguing, and sets up a lot of potential interactions between Ford and Dipper! Well done!

Anyway, I wanted to ask if you plan on continuing it, (which is totally your decision) or if it’s just a little one-shot (is that the right word?) that you wrote to get down some ideas?

No matter the answer, have a great day!

Hey, I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed it! As for continuing, I think I'll probably leave it as a oneshot - I had some plans for the next chapter, but you were right that it was mostly something I wrote to get down the shape of the sub-AU.

This ask did make me look back at my old doc though, and I found some fragments of the next chapter I hadn't posted. Even though it's not a full chapter, I hope you enjoy some snippets. You have a great day too! :)

___

“This… this isn’t possible.”

After the Transcendence, Dipper woke up to a voice, spoken in a horrified undertone. When he blinked open his eyes, the sun was too bright. The figure that stood above him, too hazy to make out.

That voice, though. Ford’s voice.

“Dipper?” His great uncle asked, and he tried to respond. His mouth wasn’t working; every muscle in his body seemed to sag from his bones, and he could barely breathe.

He wasn’t breathing. It hit him then: he wasn't breathing.

_

Day 13,

The worst has happened. The threat of the Transcendence is not over; Bill survived the explosion! I came across him in a most horrible way - the demon seems to have possessed Dipper’s body in order to gain my trust. I thought all was well until he opened his eyes and… the exorcisms didn’t work. Nothing did. I can only conclude that my nephew is dead.

I won’t let him get away with this.

_

“I'm Dipper.”

Saying that name hurt these days. He’d learned to cringe at the glint it put in Ford’s eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Ford hissed. He took a step forwards. “Who are you, demon?”

“I said, I’m Dipper. Great Uncle Ford, please, you’ve gotta believe m- Aaaagh!”

Holy water. It burned, and he could only writhe in pain, chains rattling as he struggled. Ford kept his eyes fixed on the smoking, burning skin - and not on the face. Never on his face.

“You’re not Dipper,” he said, quietly, then: “You’re not Dipper! Only demons burn like that, so stop lying and tell me who you are! Are you Bill?”

“I’m Di-”

“No, you’re not!”

[lantur]

I got back from Peru this morning after an overnight flight from Lima. :) It's been wonderful to be with Derek and Westin again, and to nap and relax after a 10-day trip!

Unorganized thoughts,

The Inca Trail was the most intense, demanding physical experience of my life. The group my friend and I were with hiked 26 miles/41 kilometers over 4 days, in rough terrain including the highlands of the Andes, the Amazon, and the cloud forests of Peru. The hike was at altitude, at an elevation nearing 13,828 feet/4,215 meters - which I struggled with, coming from living at sea level. I learned that I'm fit on sea level, but NOT at altitude. I also caught a pretty bad cold from another group member overnight on Day 3, which made Day 3 and Day 4's hikes extra challenging.

We were up at 4:30 AM every morning (3:30 AM on our final day to reach Machu Picchu), and due to my slower pace/altitude struggles, I usually had ~10-12 hours of hiking steep inclines and inclines. It was really so hard and I had to be very careful on the steep, rocky steps. The hiking poles saved me! We had to ascend and descend four mountains over the course of our hike. Ascents were really challenging for me due to shortness of breath at altitude. Descents were easier on my cardiovascular system, but required a lot of concentration to make sure I didn't miss my footing and fall down steep, uneven stone steps. Each step was about 12 to 18 inches high, which is significant for my friend and I, who are under five feet tall.

We also camped every night for 3 nights, in tents, which I've never done before. Our group bonded over the struggles of surviving the hideous campsite bathrooms, not being able to shower for four days, finding safe and private places to use the bathroom in the wild, staying warm at night, staying dry in the constant rain on day 2, and our feet and legs killing us at the end of the day. We ate every breakfast, lunch, dinner, and teatime together, and I liked everyone in the group. :) We enjoyed our time together and talked a lot.

We got to explore several Inca ruins on the way to Machu Picchu, and Machu Picchu itself was incredible. The scenery and views along the hike - the mountains, the jungle, the cloud forest - made it worth it, despite how physically difficult it was. I've never seen anything like it before. The sound of the birds singing in the jungle, the llamas and alpacas in the mountains, the butterflies, the rainforest flora... That was amazing.

One of my favorite memories was Thursday morning, when we all woke up at 3:30 AM and hiked in the dark to be among the first at the checkpoint to enter. We all brushed our teeth in the forest around the trail and hung out until the sun rose at 5:30 AM and we could enter the park. :)

My friend and I spent Friday chilling out in Cusco and recovering from our hike. We were SO tired when we got back to our hotel on Thursday night, and so relieved to finally shower and sleep in a real bed. We traveled from Cusco to Lima to Atlanta/Miami to Minneapolis. I got home this morning around 10:45 and I've literally just been sitting on the sofa or napping. Doing post-trip laundry was the big accomplishment of the day, lmao.

This was such an adventure. I'm so glad I could do it, and return safe. It was wonderful to experience South America for the first time, and I hope to go back many times. It was wonderful to completely disconnect with no phone/internet while I was in the mountains. The whole experience was a test of my physical and mental endurance, and my ability to be out of my comfort zone - but as I told my friend when we got back, while I was on the trail, simply focusing on nature and getting through each ascent and descent safely, it let me forget about the things I've experienced this year. My dad dying, estrangement from my mom, the ongoing interpersonal stresses at work. It was a great way to close out my 30th year, which has also been my hardest year.

My 31st birthday is tomorrow. :)

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member throws up in the middle of practice

A/N: I got an ask on Tumblr and I loved writing it, ty! :D

The request: TWICE's 10th member caughting a stomach bug and hiding it from the members, till one day in the middle of the practice the choreographer doesn't let her go to the bathroom 'cause of the new hard choreo and she ands up getting sick there.

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

Y/N was the youngest member of the beloved K-pop group TWICE. As the group's 10th member, she quickly won the hearts of fans worldwide with her infectious energy and charming personality. However, life as an idol was not always glamorous, and today was one of those challenging days. The youngest had woken up that morning feeling a little off, but she shrugged it off, thinking it was because of the lack of sleep and exhaustion from their busy schedule. The group had a crucial practice session that day to learn a new, intense choreography for their upcoming performance. Determined not to let her discomfort affect the team, TWICE's honey decided to keep her condition to herself. The day passed slowly for her since the stomachache only grew worse. She discreetly visited the bathroom multiple times during breaks, hoping that her pain would subside. The maknae didn't want to worry her unnies, and she certainly didn't want to disrupt the practice. With that, she left determined to push herself to her limits.

As the afternoon sun bathed the practice room, TWICE gathered for another run-through of the choreography. TWICE's child's pain had intensified, and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The intense movements only made her stomachache even worse, but she kept going, forcing a smile on her face. During a particularly challenging section of the dance, Y/N's stomach churned, and she felt an overwhelming urge to rush to the bathroom. She desperately searched for a momentary pause in the routine to excuse herself. But before she could make a move, the choreographer sternly commanded them to continue, emphasizing the need to perfect the dance.

Y/N's heart sank as she realized she couldn't leave the practice. The choreographer's instructions were understandable; after all, they were professionals, and perfection was expected. But the pressure mounted, and the pain finally became unbearable. She clutched her stomach, desperately trying to maintain her composure. In the midst of executing a difficult spin, the youngest's body rebelled against her. She lost her balance, stumbled, and doubled over in pain, losing the fight to hold back her illness. Her breakfast spilt onto the floor, and she could feel tears streaming down her face.

The other members froze, their expressions shifting from shock to concern. Momo, being the closest since as the group's dance leader she was at the front in the dance break, rushed to Y/N's side, her eyes filled with worry.

Momo - Baby, are you okay? Why didn't you tell us you were sick?

Y/N struggling to speak through her tears responded.

Y/N -  I didn't want to slow you guys down... I didn't want to ruin the practice...

Nayeon, the eldest member and one of the moms from 3mix, immediately confronted the choreographer, her voice laced with anger.

Nayeon - How could you not let her go to the bathroom? She was clearly unwell!

The choreographer looked sheepish, realizing their mistake.

Choreographer - I'm sorry, I didn't realize how serious it was. I was just focused on getting the choreography right.

Jihyo, the group's leader and a motherly figure to the maknae, approached her, gently wiping away her tears.

Jihyo - It's not your fault, kiddo. We should have noticed earlier. Let's get you home and take care of you.

With the help of the members, Jihyo led her youngest child out of the practice room. They gathered her belongings and supported her as they made their way to the car. Once inside, Jihyo sat beside her sick kid, offering words of comfort and reassurance. The car ride was filled with a mix of concern and affection from the other members. They held Y/N's hand, offering words of encouragement and apologising for not noticing her struggle sooner. The guilt they felt was palpable, but Y/N, in her weakened state, managed to smile, as always, assuring them that it wasn't their fault.

As they arrived at the dorm, Mama Jihyo, as the maknae fondly called her, took charge. She made sure the maknae was comfortable in bed, bringing her a warm cup of tea and medications to ease her symptoms. The other members surrounded Y/N, their love and support pouring out.

Mina - Rest up, honey. *tucking a blanket around her*

Sana - We'll take care of you, sugar. *kiss on the forehead*

Over the next few days, TWICE hovered around their youngest member. Bringing homemade meals, playing games, and simply providing the warmth and love that only true friends could offer. TWICE's sunshine spirits lifted, and with each passing day, her strength returned. As she returned to the group, the other members continued to dote on her, showering her with love and care. They were determined to make up for the days she had suffered in silence, and they wanted her to know that her well-being was their top priority.

Jeongyeon surprised Y/N with a stack of her favourite books because she mentioned them before that practice.

Jeongyeon - I thought these might keep you entertained while you recover. Take your time and enjoy some good stories, sweetie.

Dahyun organized a movie night in the SMC's room in the dorm, bringing over a collection of everyone's favourite films and a bunch of snacks, making sure her sister felt comfortable and relaxed. Tzuyu took it upon herself to be her only dongsang's personal chef. She spent hours in the kitchen, meticulously preparing delicious and nutritious meals for her recovering friend. Y/N was in awe of Tzuyu's culinary skills and felt truly spoiled (as she should).

Throughout her recovery, the maknae was constantly surrounded by the warm embrace of her TWICE family. Momo would sit by her baby's side, stroking her hair gently while sharing stories and laughter. Nayeon, who had been the most furious at the choreographer, never left her daughter's side, ensuring that she felt loved and supported. Sana, the sunshine of the group, brought in her bright personality and infectious laughter, turning Y/N's gloomy days into joyful ones. They would spend hours talking and giggling, creating memories that would last a lifetime. Mina would often bring her guitar and serenade with beautiful melodies and her incredible vocals. The soothing music melted away her honey's worries and fears, leaving the maknae feeling at peace. Chaeyoung surprised Y/N with a hand-drawn portrait.

And then there was Mama Jihyo, the pillar of strength. She checked in on Y/N every day, ensuring her recovery was progressing well. Jihyo would sit with her for hours, listening to Y/N's thoughts and concerns, offering words of wisdom and encouragement. One evening, as the 10th member and Jihyo sat on the balcony, sipping tea, she couldn't help but want to express her gratitude.

Y/N - Unnie, I don't know what I did to deserve such amazing sisters. You all have been so caring and loving. I feel truly blessed to have you guys in my life.

Jihyo smiled, her eyes filled with affection and a motherly smile.

Jihyo - Babygirl, you are an important part of our TWICE family. We care for each other, through thick and thin. Your well-being is as important to us as our own. Never hesitate to lean on us, to share your struggles. We are here for you, always and forever.

Y/N's heart swelled with warmth, tears of gratitude filling her eyes. She leaned into Jihyo's comforting embrace, feeling the strength and love radiating from her mama. From that day forward, Y/N stepped back into the world, stronger than ever before knowing she had her TWICE family to rely on. Together, they would conquer any obstacle, for their bond was unbreakable, and their love for one another boundless, and this made the maknae have only one thought:

I love my dear unnies.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

[rozaceous]

ands: the new year's debacle

Wayne Enterprises & Subsidiaries NYE Event, where Director Yang is in attendance with a tall, gorgeous, and mysterious Plus One. They are both seen cheerfully making conversation with Chief Fox, much to the bafflement of the combined office betting pools.

(aka: post bruce and co resolving the UST over the holidays, it's Wayne E's holiday party and he finds out that vivienne and rosalyn know each other, and know each other well. ft: kevin the mortified and unsuspecting office worker.)

“I’m not—” Kevin feels his heels slipping as both Patricia and Claire pretend to double-over with laughter, arms hooked around his as a pretense to frogmarch him towards the trio at the large window of the event space.

“The General likes you best,” Henry says in that obnoxious way where he thinks he’s contributing to the discussion, but it’s just hot air.

“Marvin the Martian’s her favorite,” he refutes.

Simon gives a hard stare over at their wayward co-worker and they all follow his gaze. Marvin “the Martian” is either trying to describe how superconductors work or the mechanics of the wobbling gelatin dessert in his hands to his plus one. Poor woman looks completely lost, as if she’s been beamed to another planet.

“She thinks his nickname is funny, but she thinks you’re actually funny,” Johanna explains with a tone of talking down to a toddler.

Another voice joins their conversation. “Maybe you can go? Female-female solidarity?” He was thinking it, and Michael is the one to say it out loud. He comes up behind Simon, nodding greetings and holding hors d'oeuvres.

Johanna gives him a scornful once-over. She doesn’t move any closer despite the haughty attitude—she’s just as terrified of their boss as the rest of them are.

Kevin continues to struggle to no avail. He hisses, “Ladies, please!”

They’re slowly but steadily inching closer towards doom. Kevin’s never been a proponent of more than a light jog every two days, but the way Henry looks pityingly at him makes him reconsider stopping by the top-of-the-line gym facilities that all WayneTech employees get access to. Unfortunately, it means he’d have to account for running into trouble outside of business hours, as well.

Speaking of trouble—

“Director Yang!” Patricia gives off a bubbly laugh—the only natural blonde on their floor and she leans hard into it. Kevin would buy in, too, if he hasn’t seen how she gave that Enterprise Division asshole Asher Mulland the run-around. He was none the wiser, either; too busy dealing with Director Yang reaming him for wasting everyone’s time when his side pushed for ‘tighter integration’ in the first place.

“Patricia, off-hours,” Director Yang says with a small raise of her champagne flute. “I see you and Claire are…” The way she trails off that sentence while looking askance at him makes Kevin want his every molecules to drop down to absolute zero, no motion whatsoever.

If he doesn’t move, she can’t see him, right?

“Kevin’s more fun than the rest of the boys’ club you’re running, Vivienne.” Claire is both purposefully casual and careful with how she says Director Yang’s name. The little curl of the draconian woman’s lips—blood red lacquer and a hint of teeth—at that mockery seems to be a good sign (if an unnerving sight all the same), as the rest of the women in their circle start to laugh.

“We came over because we had to know who you’re wearing?” Patricia ends her statement with a questioning lilt.

“Hervé Léger,” she answers easily, and the striking brunette next to her leans close to clink their flutes together with a laugh. “Nothing wrong with a bit of excitement to greet the new year,” Director Yang says with a warm expression that actually reaches her eyes, curving them into crescents.

“As if you need an excuse to buy more clothes or shoes,” the brunette teases with a winsome smile, and all that prompts is a small flicker of an eye roll before Director Yang leans into her side.

“Where would she be without her shoes?” Chief Fox adds on dryly. “They’ve been making a statement since her undergraduate showcase. The terror of her division, too, if the scuttlebutt’s to be believed.”

“The terror of her calves, more like,” Statuesque Brunette jumps back in.

“But you have to admit they look amazing.” Director Yang’s tone takes on an unrecognizable quality.

Kevin has to admit nothing. He’s not looking at how his boss is in a dress that shows off her arms and shoulders and back and legs, and even if he were, his brain would do him the courtesy of applying a pixelated modesty filter over things no human was meant to perceive.

She looks over at them as if on cue and his mind goes blank with momentary terror. Maybe she can read minds. Maybe Claire says something agreeable or whatever, and Patricia nods along, but he can’t process the words.

It’s bizarre and hair-raising. She’s never gone out of her way to make it known, but within the first two years of working at WayneTech it was factual that Vivienne Yang was a hardass at best and a tyrant at worst. The fact that she’s rarely wrong and backed up all but officially by the CTO of WayneTech and acting CEO of Wayne Enterprises Lucius Fox means that she has leeway to be as despotic as she pleases. It’s true that one would have to monumentally cause something to go FUBAR for her to turn her attention on them, but those with survival instincts cringe at the sound of ‘click-clack-click-clack’ heels marching directly towards their desk.

The horsemen of the apocalypse in his dreams wore fitted suit jackets and pussy-bow blouses, and were all the more terrifying for it.

Hires that didn’t know better and got cocky—they were usually the type to run their mouths, fuck up anyways, and got made examples out of. It’d be better if she yelled, but she would coldly and without pause tear into every bit of their professional and technical integrity until there was nothing left. If it were Kevin, he wouldn’t even dare apply to a different job elsewhere, non-compete clauses notwithstanding.

When he gains awareness of the conversation again, it’s at the mention of his name.

“—must be Kevin.” Statuesque Brunette smiles over at him, with the most perfectly manicured and shaped hand reaching out for a greeting. She’s taller than him, too. “Vi’s told me a lot about you. I’m Rosalyn.”

“I—ah—” And thank god he automatically reaches over to shake her hand, even as he stutters. To his horror, Patricia and Claire are nowhere to be seen. He’s on his own. “All good things, I hope? We’re, well…’the nail that sticks out gets the hammer,’ as they say around here.” He tries for a joke to break the tension.

“You stick out in a good way,” Rosalyn says warmly, reassuringly, except it makes him that much more afraid. “Notable work, great attitude.”

Director Yang doesn’t point out anything unless it’s an egregious error. It’s either ‘good, proceed,’ ‘alright, I see,’ or the dreaded ‘hm.’ And then it all goes downhill from there.

“You’re the division’s foremost expert on frogs, right?” Rosalyn brings up, her straight, ivory teeth flashing in a show of mirth. She tucks shiny, flawlessly wavy hair behind an ear.

“Toads, actually,” comes out of his mouth before he can process the fact that Director Yang has 1) seen his work desktop background, and 2) told her plus one about it.

“Toads, Ros,” Director Yang concurs and takes a sip of champagne. “There’s a difference.”

He must be in a lucid nightmare right now, because Chief Fox nods thoughtfully and Rosalyn hums before asking, “So, what is the difference?”

His parents were right; he should have gone to church more and played less in the swamp, because a toad-shaped demon takes possession of him to rattle on about the differences and he can’t stop himself. The fact that Director Yang and Chief Fox hold a little side conversation but still have the wherewithal to nod along, even adding in little factoids of their own to Rosalyn’s follow-up questions, traps him in this never-ending psychotic break.

“—and Michael’s finally here to complete the duo act,” Director Yang drawls when Kevin has a pause. “I was wondering how long you two could bear to be separated.”

“These two submitted the winning proposal for the small-sat bid, yes?” Chief Fox turns an appraising look towards them. “Good work.”

“And lively all-hands meetings, from what I hear,” Rosalyn comments wryly.

Cold sweat drips down his back, and Michael’s not doing any better now that he’s also in their sights. His smile freezes in a way that starts to look like a grimace.

“So, how were the holidays?” Director Yang brings everything back to polite, standard conversation. “I assume everyone’s hard-fought-for and well-deserved PTO was spent wisely?”

“That does include you, too, Vi,” Chief Fox says.

Rosalyn chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry about that—she was forced to take it easy because—”

Kevin thinks he might prefer the regular work week interactions—at least he has those rules of engagement memorized. Here, he feels like a bug on display in front of the two most terrifying individuals at the company and a cheerfully intimidating plus one; the mood is awkward and Michael’s expression shows he clearly regrets coming over to bail him out.

---

Half an hour later, Kevin and Michael have made a partial escape and are lingering to the side of the room’s large window and attempting to look like they’re making conversation instead of standing awkwardly close to the curtains and eavesdropping as Rosalyn is now regaling Chief Fox with the details of a recent house tour she and Director Yang had taken. She has him honest-to-god chuckling. It’s just not right.

Kevin and Michael are still sharing bulging eye contact at the revelation of Director Yang getting a house with anybody, much less her apparent girlfriend(?) —Chief Fox seems to handle this information with more grace, but then he actually seems to like Director Yang—when Rosalyn is interrupted by the man of the perpetual hour.

“—wiring done by someone who’s idea of electricity hasn’t gained any sophistication past flying a kite in a storm based on the way the bathroom light sparked when I turned it on—”

“Of course I’d find you with the smartest, most beautiful women in the room, Lucius,” says Bruce Wayne, a half-emptied glass of champagne in hand as he smoothly sidles his way into their conversation. He and Chief Fox exchange a brief handshake and inquiry-answer about Chief Fox’s wife, who had other obligations.

And then—

“Hi, Bruce.” Rosalyn leans in to hug Mr Wayne and kiss his cheek. Kevin makes a choking noise and Michael elbows him to make him be quiet, transfixed by the way the very fabric of the universe is unraveling in front of them. “I was wondering if I’d get to see you this evening.”

“If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve been here that much sooner, Rosalyn,” Mr Wayne returns. He pecks her cheek back and releases her, hand trailing her midback as he pulls away. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I’m Vivienne’s plus one.”

“Bruce,” greets Director Yang with a smile that for once has settled on something that doesn’t look like she’s considering evisceration. Her handshake appears similarly nonviolent; she even goes so far as to add a second hand on top. Kevin and Michael glance quickly at one another, neither sure if it’s a play for dominance or an uncharacteristic but genuine expression of warmth. “Happy New Year’s.”

Mr Wayne reclaims his hand, head tilted just slightly, but still looking happy as a clam, if a little confused. “Happy New Year’s, Vivienne. I didn’t realize the two of you had gotten on so well! Glad it was a worthwhile referral, then.”

“Very worthwhile,” Rosalyn agrees. “I’m sure I must’ve thanked you for the introduction back then, but I’m happy to reiterate it.”

“Of course, of course.” And Mr Wayne’s eyes are flicking between Rosalyn and Director Yang, apparently taking in the lack of distance required for him to do so. Director Yang’s smile, meanwhile, evolves into more of a smirk. Kevin shivers as he weathers a flashback to when Director Yang had given Director Schroeder enough rope to hang himself with and watched him do so while in an inter-department meeting.

Kevin clamps a hand onto his companion-in-misery’s elbow, and Michael doesn’t even flinch when his fingers dig in through the fabric of the suit jacket, too busy staring.

“Mr Wayne introduced them?” Kevin asks in a frantic whisper. Why would Mr Wayne even know Rosalyn? Why did he know Rosalyn first?

And Michael frantically whispers back with the horrible speculation of, “I think Director Yang stole Mr Wayne’s girl out from under him.”

Kevin struggles to find evidence to argue against that fearsome proposition. The closest that he can come up with is that Rosalyn isn’t the wafer-thin type that Mr Wayne’s been seen with in the past. Regardless, she (and Director Yang, in fact) both have the polish of Mr Wayne’s supermodel pursuits, somehow—every woman in attendance is dolled up and dressed to impress, but there was an ineffable and insurmountable difference between them and the two women in front of him.

He thinks it’s dark magic, personally. Blood of the innocents, perhaps.

“Rosalyn was just telling me about an ill-fated house tour their real estate agent gave last week,” Chief Fox segues. Whereas Director Yang is terrifying like a guided missile strike aimed at your desk, Chief Fox is worse in the way of finding assassins invading your home in the dead of night; Kevin can never get a read on him. Is this social grace? Or adding fuel to the fire?

“The house was Murphy’s Law in residential form.” Rosalyn takes her cue masterfully. “It was almost comical, though poor Sharon was nearly in tears when a door literally swung off its hinges at the end.”

Mr Wayne blinks and gives a little laugh. “You didn’t mention you were house-hunting, Ros! I’d be happy to set you up with my agent.”

“We found a place in Fashion last week,” demurs Director Yang, eyes sharp though the rest of her expression is pleasant.

Kevin’s pretty sure the way Mr Wayne is showing his teeth now is more about holding in a scream than smiling. He can completely commiserate with the feeling.

“Finally, it’s been months,” agrees Rosalyn, apparently impervious to the tension Kevin is currently absorbing into his nervous system. He’s attempting to expel it, and Michael is taking the brunt. His elbow is probably going to have bruises. “Needs some work, but it’s gorgeous and has—what was it Sharon said?”

Director Yang answers, “Good bones.”

Rosalyn nods, satisfied. “Weirdest turn of phrase. It has a sturdy foundation, anyway. And doesn’t seem like it’s been shot up by the mob recently, at least, which is more than one of the houses we looked at can say.”

“Some poorly plastered-over bullet holes in the foyer,” Director Yang says with an amused raise of an eyebrow. “Semi-automatic, gives it character.”

Rosalyn’s cheer contrasts with her next words: “Though no visible bloodstains in that one! That was the house we looked at on Irving and Park—”

“Terrible HVAC, too—”

“It’s been quite the adventure, in any case,” Rosalyn concludes. “But I suppose that’s house hunting in Gotham for you. We’re only waiting on the home inspection now that the holidays are wrapping up, but that should go fine, and then it’s just closing. We’re hoping to move in in February.”

“Fingers crossed.” Director Yang takes a drink from her glass, glancing fondly up at Rosalyn from the side of her eyes.

Fondly. Kevin is going to combust, especially when Rosalyn nudges into Director Yang’s shoulder.

“Well, that’s—I’m glad you’ve found a place,” says Mr Wayne, sounding a little faint, and looking like the champagne has hit him with a two-by-four instead of BAC.

“Thanks, Bruce.” Rosalyn beams, her cheeks gone a little pink.

“How long have you and Vi known each other, Rosalyn?” Chief Fox asks. “She’s so tight-lipped about her personal life, I’m afraid it’s a mystery.”

“Oh! That’s—” she flashes a quick look at Director Yang “—a little under a year?”

“Eight months,” says Director Yang.

Rosalyn clears her throat, pinking a little more, but Chief Fox just makes a noise of sudden comprehension.

“Ah, so it’s you we have to thank for the office’s standing desk trend, then.” He raises his glass at Rosalyn, eyes crinkled.

“Trend?”

“It caught on after Director Yang got hers and everyone started making a fuss about her timers for changing desk positions.”

“I—well—yes, I suppose that was me, then. I didn’t realize it’d made a fuss, though. Vi, you didn’t say!”

Kevin and Michael share yet another aghast look, and Kevin is rapidly revising his ranking on who present is scariest, Rosalyn now taking the top slot. Anyone who can get Director Yang to do their bidding and make Chief Fox laugh and who somehow knows Bruce Wayne well enough to be on a first-name basis deserves the gold medal.

Rosalyn takes a sip of champagne, seemingly a little flustered, and her bright lipstick doesn’t even leave a mark on the glass. Just in case Kevin needed more evidence of her uncanny, eldritch powers.

---

Nothing as gauche as a shouting match, dramatic declarations, or running off into the night happens as the New Year’s ball drops.

Instead, the attendees are all witnesses to various anomalies: the domesticity of Rosalyn and Director Yang fetching drinks and hors d’oeuvres for each other, giggle fits from the women and a round of full-bellied laughter from Chief Fox, and glassy-eyed looks cast over the edges of a speedily replenished series of champagne flutes by Mr Wayne as he makes his social rounds. Whether the expression was caused by sentiment, alcohol, or pure bewilderment was the point of contention fueling a new betting pool.

The cherry on top is when Rosalyn, herself some glasses in, starts loudly care-taking Director Yang.

“—I can see the goosebumps, Vi!” she chastises, starting to shrug off the jacket of her fuchsia pantsuit. Kevin is gratified that Henry also chokes at the arm muscle and cleavage displayed by the now-visible camisole, the same shiny fuchsia fabric as the suit.

“My coat’s in the car, I’ll be fine,” Director Yang—pouts?!

“Yes, it’s doing you so much good in the car.” Rosalyn manhandles Director Yang into putting on the jacket over her silvery-gray dress while Director Yang sulkily submits, but Rosalyn ends with an affectionate kiss on the cheek that has Claire gasping and clutching onto Patricia, making a high-pitched coo.

“Mr Fox, I think we should take this as our cue to exit for the evening,” says Rosalyn, arm lingering around Director Yang’s shoulders.

Director Yang gives a sharp, two-fingered jab to Rosalyn’s ribs, making the woman let out an “Eep!”

“Lucius, please, Rosalyn,” Chief Fox protests, and Michael’s jaw drops at his words. Chief Fox’s eyes are sparkling at the scene in front of him, though Johanna has been keeping the tally on everyone, and he’s had five glasses by now according to her. “And of course. I’ll be in touch with Vi about Tanya and I having the two of you over for dinner once things settle down on the housing front.”

Rosalyn seems to inflate with the force of her happiness at the prospect. “Absolutely, I’d love to meet her! Luke and Tam, too, now that I’ve heard so much!”

“Little Luke’s a riot,” Director Yang says dryly. “You should grill him on how he thinks shoulders work.”

“Those sound like fighting words.” Rosalyn nods, completely serious, though not losing the sense of good humor she’s kept throughout the night. She and Chief Fox shake hands and exchange genial goodbyes, while Director Yang detaches herself from her date long enough to give the man a two-armed hug. Rosalyn then returns her arm to Director Yang’s shoulders, steering her towards the valet service at the exit.

With the intimate proximity and rhythmic complexity of tango dancers, ‘clickety-clack-click-clackety’ and away the devil saunters with her consort.

The office pool pivots back to watching Chief Fox when, in the aftermath, he approaches Mr Wayne—who had watched the two women leave with his brow furrowed ever-so-slightly—and they share a few words before Chief Fox gives him a clap on the back that looks suspiciously conciliatory.

Johanna assesses her nearly empty flute of champagne. “I need something harder.”

Kevin just wants Mr Wayne’s two-by-four from earlier in the evening, hoping that traumatic brain injury will still be less traumatic than everything he’s been forced to witness tonight.

[transhawks]

Idk y'all I'm a whole ass anarchist who thinks political violence is inevitable and in many cases appropriate and I'm still here wondering why people still keep acting like the League are currently standing for something as of 376. This is not a fanfic. Like I wish Tomura read some Gramsci and Bookchin too but no he's fucking possessed by an immortal megalomaniac and none of his friends know how to deal with it or just tell themselves it's not their problem to deal with because they have their own shit going on and most of them are suicidal anyway.

I know this is a very harsh and even hypocritical judgment coming from me who has been "rah rah heroes represent statist violence" but like....Tomura has never had an alternative vision for hero society because all Tomura has been created for is destruction and self-hatred. he played into his sensei's plans perfectly, even his friends who cared about him only ended up enabling AFO's plans. Tomura has essentially lived post-Kamino under the delusion of free will and choice. It was never real guys. The dude tap-danced into AFO's waiting hands.

Like come on, I expect the hero stans to be dumb af about this but the ending has always been that the hero kids save the villains. No ifs or ands or buts, this is a story about what heroism actually is, and the nature of what being saved is. But it's also a hopeful story for young adults and teens and I hate to break it to you, but Horikoshi isn't going to reinvent shounen in SJ. He's not going to buck the formula of a protagonist who can reach out to his antagonists and reform them.

A lot of you are just in this fandom expecting things that would be normal in different genres and while I do think those things would be incredibly interesting, being upset that a young adult comic isn't choosing to explore villains as fully justified revolutionaries just shows a lack of genre awareness. We already have a dystopian government angle. But it doesn't erase that the League has always been about self-destruction rather than self-fulfillment. It doesn't erase that none of the League are functioning people and that none of them were helping each other get out of the pit. Sure, some of them bonded, and gave each other much needed kindness. But kindness isn't help.

Like I don't know if you guys have ever been in friend groups where people are struggling with addictions, but from personal experience? We tend to enable rather bolster healthy practices. If you don't know what I'm talking about, well, idk what to tell you, go make friends with addicts and just traumatized and oppressed people in general. That's what the League is, the superhero fantasy comic equivalent of people who deal with their fucked up lives in very fucked up ways.

Just have some fucking nuance y'all. Sheesh. Haven't you heard that if everyone's already burning, you can't tell when you're being set on fire?

[pixelplayground]

heyy, hope you are well 🤍 i found ur blog sometime ago and i just want to say i ADORE your builds ands interiors so much. truly one of my fav simblrs & builders ever. i just want to ask, where do you get ur content from retired creators like miljamaison, dareon and others. i seem to struggle to find milja’s cc anywhere else other than build downloads. and if i were to find the cc can i re-upload them in simfileshare? i’m really noob in cc TOU’s and want to respect them, i have been wondering this for so long, i thought u would know better than me. hope this wasn’t that hard to understand and thank you in advance!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

hello nonny, i am doing well but a bit burnt out because it's the end of the year and work is stressing me out. anyway, thank you so much - honestly been surprised that people still remember my crap after basically disappearing for 2 years lol. the internet has a short memory and all that. regarding your question, i'm so old in the whole simblr/alpha community that i have the files because i downloaded them back when those creators were active and posting LOL.

several of them ended up becoming friends/mutual acquaintances. generally most of their stuff can be found from googling the creator name then simfileshare and you'll find random CC dumps of old deleted cc, and or the perma-paywall distribution networks (linking to these lately i have heard will get tumblr accounts deleted from wayward DCMA take down actions, so i do not link to them, i'm afraid) - if you do a google you will find the path. personally, i think that if the creator has left the sims community, re-hosting the files for free with proper credit given to the original creators, is fine. however, if the creator happens to come back to the community, or contacts you and asks for removal, then the respectful thing to do would be abide their wishes.

a lot of times, the creator may not have initially deleted their links, but over the years hosting accounts expire. you can't always guarantee that the creator intended for everything to be removed, versus, they just couldn't keep up with fixing links in a community they are no longer part of.

[general--winter]

May I please request headcanons for Sae Niijima falling in love with a fellow lawyer who used to be a cop and seeing them defend themselves against a violent client?

author's note: Ooooo this is a good one!! I had a lot of ideas for this one, but the end result is what I ended up running with. Sae's a pretty complex character, so I hope I didn't do anything extremely wrong with her. I just thought about how she would act in this situation based on my memory of her from the game. This is also based around post-P5 Sae. Enjoy everyone!

rating: teen

fandom: persona 5

pairings: sae niijima x gn!reader

word count: 666

warnings: physical assault, explicit language

summary: Sae's struggles with falling for her cop-turned-lawyer coworker.

Sae was currently engrossed in her podcast as she strode out of her office building two hours late, as usual. Work piled up too much and it was essentially expected that she would take unpaid overtime. Rush hour was in full swing, and taking the train home would be an absolute nightmare, so she was steeling herself for the journey, which would consist of standing on her heels for an hour and a half in a rocking train.

Before she could leave, however, a commotion broke out in the lobby. Through her headphones she sensed someone yelling obscenities. “You god-damn, good-for-nothing attorney! Gonna get me fucking life if you keep up this shitshow,” she caught after pulling one bud out. Her head would whip around to see you, standing with your back rod straight, hands behind your back, while the client was detained by their prison security escorts, spitting in your face with their words. They had it handled, so Sae figured she would leave and make sure you were okay later over text, as you two were acquaintances. The next move of the client kept her gaze glued, though.

She saw the client break free from the hold of the security officers and make a run for you as she turned around to depart. Her entire body tensed up, ready to make a run for it if they were in fact dangerous. But before Sae could process anything, you had stepped to the side, grabbed your assailant’s wrists, and pinned them down with your knee to the tile floor face-down. It looked like a move straight out of Makoto’s toolkit.

Sae would be almost awestruck at this. I think she would genuinely believe that someone who can defend themselves in such a calm and collected manner is pretty… cool. Her demeanor would never give this away, though. Maybe just a raise of her eyebrow.

“Can I get a pair of handcuffs?” you would ask in a quiet voice of the guards. “Preferably a pair they won’t break out of.”

At this point, Sae would turn to leave, her heart thumping oddly. Sure, you two were friends. She knew you used to be a cop, so that move you pulled was probably just standard stuff for you. But it made her heart flutter. Why? She figured your effortless protective actions may have awakened some sort of attraction in her. This was a pointless feeling. You two would remain friends. No ifs, ands, or buts. Sae has no time for frivolous pursuits.

Every day after, however, Sae would find herself losing her composure around you. Stumbling over legal jargon that she has studied for years, spilling a cup of coffee on the floor of the office, just… uncharacteristic mistake. You would ask Sae if she was alright after a week of this. Her response would be a curt “I’m fine.” Maybe she would continue the conversation to ask you about open cases that you two were collaborating on.

“Listen,” you would say. “I know that you’ve been acting strange around me since you watched me put that client’s face on the tile. Are you scared of me now?”

Sae would reply: “No, I’m not. If you intend on talking about this, please contact me after work hours.”

And that you would, calling her when you were free. Luckily, she would be as well, and you two would talk. Sae reassures you that she’s not afraid of you or anything, but you would need to really work the truth out of her. In a fit of frustration, she would yell that she was pretty flustered by that move and couldn’t stop thinking about you in a romantic way.

“Oh? That’s what it is. How about we go to an izakaya tomorrow after work then? Just the two of us.” Had you just asked her on a date? She would act reluctant to accept, but deep inside, she was elated to spend time with you alone outside of work.

[jaidethalagorra]

Ok. Fine. I wanna post more here, but I’ve been struggling with both motivation and time. So I’m gonna put out some polls to figure out what I should spend more time working on.

What would y’all like to see here? I’ve got some new ideas as well I can add

I’m aware that I only have like. 2 people who actually interact with my posts but I wanna at least try to put stuff here! I love sharing my things.

[shmowder]

I opened my game to check when I played, and it was in April & May of 2022! No wonder I'm operating almost entirely on vibes alone out here. I also checked my intended difficulty save and I died 10 times, and Maria, Eva, both Stamatins, Murky, and Notkin (😭) had died by the end. So, not spectacular, but not half the town either.

You mentioned not being super familiar with Anna in one of your posts; she's the one I seemed to interact with the least, as well. As far as Yulia and Victor go, one thing I really like about them is that they'll both go to visit at the theater if they're healthy ♡

Thanks for putting together that age chart (and for pointing me in the direction of the P1 Wiki)! P1 Victor really doesn't look 58 but I'll buy it for P2 Victor. Big Vlad is younger than him?? What? Pretty much everyone who is supposed to be in their 20s, I'd guessed to be in their 30s... maybe I'm just bad at interpreting ages 😂 Well, I'm going to tell myself they're in their 30s in P2 :P

The animal + body part thing is so cool! A flamingo, huh. I never would've thought of that, but it makes sense the way you explain it. For Aglaya, I was thinking crow as well, even if it's a little on-the-nose. I love that you mentioned a mourning dove, they are my favorite kind of bird! I've got to go to work soon, but I hope I can spend some more time later thinking of answers to your questions!

Thank you for being so kind! I love your responses (you put so much thought into them, wow) and I'm excited to read the essay <3

🐿️ anon

Yeah Victor really doesn't look that old, let alone older than both Big Vlad and Alexander. The P1 ages are probably just after thoughts the dev team added in the VK posts without considering the timeline or ingame models.

Like you're telling me a 16y old Artemy was best friends with a 13y old kid Rubin? three years is absolutely massive when you're that young, especially when you're at the edgy age of 16.

Or that Caspar is ten?? TEN? A 13 year old Notkin is having beef with a literal ten year old oh my god.

How in God's green earth is Anna 18? A TEEN? I thought she was 35- Aglaya being around Maria's 26 age was also a shock, so was General Block being 40. Aren't they a little too young to hold such high positions of power?

Tho, I do like how Capella is the oldest of the termites. It's fitting, especially with her being the wisest and their leader.

And oh my god. Murky is 8. EIGHT. That's third grade elementary school eight. That's still learning how to write and read eight. That's " just learned the table of multiplication and struggling with anything past number 5" Eight years old.

WHO IS LETTING AN EIGHT YEAR OLD SLEEP IN A BROKEN TRAIN CAR ALONE IN THIS DANGEROUS TOWN FULL OF NIGHT LOOTERS ANDS EASY TO ACQUIRE GUNS.

I am going to personally strangle Victor Kain to death for not building that school and decided that another useless stairway to heaven should take priority. THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN THE BUILDING WHERE MURKY LEARNS HER ALPHABET >:( HOW IS SHE GOING TO KNOW THAT "A" IS FOR "APPLE" NOW HUH? HOW IS SHE GOING TO LEARN THAT THE COW GOES MOO AND THE SHEEP GOES BAAA >:(

I see your vision with Aglaya's animal being a crow. It's classic and fitting. She is one of the few inquisitors who go against the stereotypical manipulation and rather set all their cards on the table when facing a problem, at least that's how her mentor used to behave and she took after him. That's why I thought of a mourning dove, it's a clear contrast against a cunning crow. I'm glad to hear they're your favourite birds! Birds are such a treat for humanity, i feel so bad we don't treat doves and pigeons with the same kindness we extend to cats and dogs.

Crows can be friendly and kind despite the public perception of them, which fits Aglaya. Everyone looks at her and assumes she is trying to manipulate them or get inside their head, just like people look at a crow as a bad omen despite it being another lovely bird just trying to survive out there.

Thank you so much for your sweet messages <3 I appreciate them a lot and your patience when it comes to me taking time to reply ah- I'd love to hear those ideas eventually when you're ready to share them.