#but I worked really hard on this and I hope it is a worthwhile read

[hoshigray]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.” 

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[inuyashaluver]

hi hi!! can i request a mlt one where she meets single parent reader, they fall in love and then reader + kid go to her games to support her!!!

my girls - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which maya practices at a park and your daughter steals her ball, when you go to apologise, the both of you are star struck

warnings: so. long. swearing

a/n: ITS MAYA BABY!!! thanks so much for the request, hope you enjoy, got a little carried away, whoopppss❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, maya have to thank your daughter, ellie for your introduction to each other.

you always knew you wanted to be a mother, and so, at 20, you decided to go to a clinic and become one alone.

sure it was hard to balance the baby and work as a physio, but the continual support of your friends and family made it worthwhile. and your daughter, was one of the best things that happened to you, and you couldn’t help but say maya was one of the best things that happened to you as well, maya feeling exactly the same.

ellie, was in her ‘terrible-twos’ stage, all round meaning she was a little shit at the moment. she was a mini you, your attitudes and mannerisms completely passing onto her, she was definitely your daughter, something that your clients loved to tease you about as she sat in on their appointments.

you had recently discovered that your daughter had quite a fascination with balls, specifically, soccer balls. everytime you put on a football game, your daughter stares at the screen in front of her, completely entranced and copying their every move. you can’t help but think maybe you’ve got a future, famous footballer on your hands.

—

one day, you had taken ellie to the park on an early, sunday morning. the air was crisp, you and your daughter were completely bundled up amongst the cold, matching red noses and cheeks prominent on your features. walking hand and hand, you take her towards the equipment, watching her every move.

“mummy, look!” ellie giggles, going down the small slide, dressed like a small snowman. “wow, baby!” you exclaim, lifting her in the air and pecking her pink cheeks repeatedly, her little giggles bringing a big smile to your face. you hold her hand around the equipment, pushing her on the swing, playing on the playground with her, whatever she wants.

you watch her play, a bright smile evident on her face, until you see her face light up and she bolts away from you. your eyes widen, she’s running towards a girl on the field next to the equipment. she’s wearing a hoodie and shorts, her hair tied into a loose ponytail, she dribbles the football up and down the field, doing her own drills.

all you kept thinking as you ran was: “when did my child become this fast? i need to put her in football” you chase after her, “ellie, no!”, she continues to sprint towards the mysterious girl, finally stopping in front of her and pointing at the ball. the girl looks down at her surprised, “oh! hello, little one, is your mummy around?”, ellie looks up at her with awestruck eyes, nodding her head slowly at the girl's words. she continued to point at the ball that was stopped under the girl’s foot, “do you want this?”, ellie didn’t speak, just nodded her head.

at this point, you were lightly jogging, carefully watching the interaction between the two. the girl lightly kicks the ball towards ellie, ellie grabs it with her hands and sits on the ground, the older girl quickly sitting down cross legged in front of her. “what’s your name?” the girl questions softly, “ellie” she gives her a toothy grin, “hi, ellie, i’m maya” she returns the grin. “ellie!” you finally reach them, absolutely breathless. you stand with your hands resting on your thighs, breathing laboured and difficult, staring at the ground.

“i’m so sorry about her, she really loves football and-” you look up from the ground, looking at one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. “hi” maya breathes out, she thought you were absolutely breathtaking. “hi” you reply shyly, kneeling in front of her, hands on ellie’s small shoulders. “what did mummy say about strangers?” you quirk your brow at the small girl in front of you, she just looks at you with a guilty smile.

“stranger danger!” she exclaims, you nod your head in response, “yes, good girl!”, you weren’t too caught up in the interaction, the girl in front of you seeming trustworthy. “but mummy, she’s pretty” she pouts up at you, your cheeks go slightly pink, “yes she is pretty, but still a stranger” maya in front of you stared on with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “oh, sorry! i’m maya” she cautiously sticks her hand out, you immediately take it and gently shake her hand, “(y/n), and ellie, obviously” maya nods her head with a smile.

“now, ellie, we’re not strangers, so it’s okay” ellie makes a small noise of understandment before focusing her attention back on the ball in front of her. “not to be rude or anything, but how old are you? you seem very young to be a mum” she asks, scared she may have offended you, “no, you’re not being rude at all, i’m 22, young but worth it, i think” you shrug with a giggle, maya smiles at you brightly, “ah, i see”, “and how old are you, maya?” you question, “i’m 21” you nod your head, both of you just softly smiling at each other.

the attraction you felt for each other was obvious, both of you wanted to get to know each other better. “sorry if this is weird, but um” she scratches her neck sheepishly, “would you like to, maybe go for a coffee, only if you have time of course!” she rushes her words, not even stopping for a breath. you can’t help but smile at her shyly, “i’d like that”, she returns your shy smile, it only grew when your daughter rolls the ball over to maya expectantly, all of you could sense a special connection forming.

all of you had walked to a nearby coffee shop, ellie holding onto your hand tightly as you walked. you engaged in small talk with maya, conversation flowing so smoothly, you felt as though you’d known each other your whole lives. when you’d found a table, ellie insisted that she sat next to maya, tightly gripping her hand. maya smiles at her so brightly, your heart soared.

“so what do you do?” maya questions, slowly stirring the sugar into her coffee cup. “i’m a physiotherapist” you say cheekily, grinning at her brightly. “wow! that’s awesome!” you giggle at her words, “nah, not really” you wave your hand at her, “and what do you do?” you lean forward, resting your head on your clasped hands.

she gets slightly nervous at your closeness, “um, i’m a football player” you widen your eyes, “no way!” you exclaim, she winces at your volume, putting her hand over your mouth. “mummy, shhhhhh!” ellie holds her finger up to her mouth, the two of you look down at her, giggling profusely.

“sorry, that’s amazing, maya! for what club?” she smiles shyly, “manchester united” ellie whips her head from her colouring page, “mummy!” she grunts, opening her mouth but she can’t get her words out, but you know what she’s saying. “her favourite club” you grin, maya looks down at her with a bright smile, “you’re a smart girl, ellie” she laughs when your daughter nods her head, she gently pats the top of it before turning her attention back on you.

the rest of the day went exceptionally well, you’d spent at least 4 hours with maya and only wanted more, but your daughter fast asleep in her arms meant it was time to go home. maya walks you to your car, placing ellie into her car seat and doing her seatbelt up. “you’ve done this before” you give her a surprised grin, “cousins” she shrugs cheekily, standing in front of you. she’s slightly taller than you, so you look up at her slightly with a smile.

“i’d love to see you again” you say, lightly squeezing her arm before letting go. her breath hitches at your action, “me too,” she breathes out, your smile brightens, you grab your phone from your pocket, she does the same and you exchange numbers. “you know, you a physio, me a footballer, match made in heaven, don’t you think?” you give her a light slap on her arm, your smile never ceasing, “you know, i think you’re right” you match her energy. she pulls you into a tight hug, lasting for a couple before she reluctantly pulls away.

“see you around?” maya questions, lightly gripping your hand, you give it a gentle squeeze, “absolutely.”

—

and you did see her again, you started dating after about 4 dates. your relationship was pure, loving and genuine. you’d been dating for about a year and a half, it couldn’t have been any better. you and maya absolutely loved each other, positively head over heels. it also helped that ellie was absolutely obsessed with the girl, her face lighting up everytime she walks through the door. she eventually moved in, it might have seemed quick but it just felt right.

you’d managed to get a job at manchester united as one of their physios. maya always made an excuse to come and see you.

“baby, my hamstring is playing up” you look up to see your girlfriend leaning on the doorframe with crossed arms. you shake your head at her gently, gesturing for her to lie down. you get up to examine her, lightly helping her stretch, maya always sending you smirks when your hands roamed over her body, clearly different from your regular client consultations.

“okay, baby, you’re good” you grab her hands to pull her up but she just pulls you down on top of her, “baby, no” she whines out, “it hurts” she pouts at you. you laugh at her expression, giving her a quick kiss on her lips, maya’s hand immediately going to the back if your neck and holding you there, deepening the kiss. you hum into her when her hands move up your shirt before you pull away, you knew you’d get walked in on knowing your luck.

“sorry, baby, i don’t want you getting in trouble” you breathe against her lips, quickly pecking them one more time before moving off her and going back to your desk.

“you’re no fun” she huffs out, a scowl evident on her face before she gives you a quick kiss on your lips, going to walk out of the room back to training. “i love you” you sing out, she shakes her head at you, “yeah, yeah, i love you too” she sticks her tongue out at you and you return the gesture.

—

it was game day for manchester united, a grand final in fact. you and ellie had been hyping maya up, telling her that she would do amazing. the girl was convinced you weren’t watching the match, you told her you’d be working in the back in case anything happened, in reality, you had a little surprise up your sleeve for your special girl.

you and ellie sat in the friends and family section, wearing your ‘le tissier’ jerseys, matching grins plastered on your face. “you excited, ells?” you remark at your daughter's bright face, her eyes focusing on the pitch in front of her. she nods her head enthusiastically, “where’s may may?” (a nickname she loved to call maya), she sits on your lap, looking around in search of your girlfriend. “she’s coming, lovey, we need to be patient” you coo, gently hugging the small girl on your lap. she nods in understanding, playing with your fingers and rings.

surely enough, the girls started coming out, you and ellie cheering loudly when you see your favourite girl. maya hadn’t seen you both yet, she was so focused you watch maya with a proud smile, watching her stern expression as she high fives the opposition, taking her position. ellie was so focused, you couldn’t believe how stimulated she was. the game was intense, but manchester united managed to secure the win.

the girls and the crowd cheer loudly, ellie screaming and jumping on the chair, you hoist her up on your waist so she can get a better look. ella sees you first, her eyes widening and immediately rushing to get maya. the girl drags her over to your direction, maya immediately perks up and sprints over to you, bundling the both of you up into a tight embrace. “my girls!” she exclaims, “le tissier jerseys, huh?” she smirks, giving ellie a loving kiss on her head until she turns to you, pupils wide and kissing you passionately, pulling away when she feels a little hand on her cheek.

“my mummy, may may” she frowns, “ellie, we share mummy, darling” she explains, giving the girl another kiss on her cheek. she lets out a little squeal, you laugh at the interaction. kissing both of them on the cheek. she takes ellie from you, holding her on her hip and talking to you until she gets called to receive her medal.

“can i take her?” maya looks at you cheekily, you laugh and nod, watching them both walk over to the podium, maya puts the medal on ellie’s neck, taking her quickly to the rest of the team, all of them excited to see her. you have access to the pitch, you walk on and take numerous photos.

they hoist up the trophy, celebrating with one another. maya runs over to you with ellie hand in hand, both of them with matching grins. maya lifts her up again, you gently take the medal off ellie and drape it over maya’s neck, “congratulations, beautiful” giving her a quick kiss on her and ellie’s cheek, ellie seems to doze off in the girls arms, maya finally gets to kiss you the way she wanted, leaving you absolutely breathless. she loved her girls. and you definitely loved yours.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: my best girls, love you to bits

view all comments

yourname: you’re the cutest, i love you

↳ mayaletissier: milf

↳ yourname: WOW OKAY

↳ mayaletissier: my ultimate, dream milf

↳ yourname: maya.

↳ mayaletissier: sorry

read part two here!! [part 2]

[cpericardium]

Compilation of Megafire's Wildbow Essays (Imported)

I haven't read all of them myself, but the few I did were always worthwhile and interesting, so I thought I'd index them here for anyone who hasn't heard of them or checked them out. As I recall, these were written by Megafire as the chapters were coming out.

CHARACTERIZATION OF CAROL IN WARD

REDDIT INDEX

Chapter 3.6 

The Warden's HQ, or, Playing With Time

Chapter 4.6 

Natalie, or, Working Through Proxies

Chapter 5.9 

Power Dynamics, or, Why Carol Love(s/d) Mark

Chapter 6.3 

Trust, Safety and Control, or, General Opinion

Chapter 7.4 

A Glimmer of Hope, or, Victoria and Carol have an Actual Conversation!?

Chapter 8.2 

Meeting the Parents, or, Never mind, Carol is Back to Being Carol

Chapter 8.9 

Baby Steps, or, Carol Manages to Respect Boundaries for Once

Chapter 9.12-9.13 

Bonus Damsel Interlude, or, This Will Pay Off Later, I Promise

Chapter 10.1 

The Diner, or, I Yell a Lot

Chapter 10.y 

Bonus Chris Interlude, or, This Has Nothing to Do With Carol, I Just Really Like This One

Chapter 12.1 

Ruminating on New Wave, or, Why Mark Loves Carol

Chapter 12.2 

Carol vs Damsel, or, I Told You It'd Pay Off

Chapter 12.f 

Ryan and Cradle, or, What It Means to be Good, and, Competing Access Needs, or, Why the Dream Room is the Worst

Chapter 12.9 

The Bubble, or, Making You Feel Even Worse About Carol Getting Hurt

Chapter 14.5 

The Greenhouse, or, Carol Brought Low

Chapter 14.6 (Sort of) 

Drawing Similarities, or, What's Left for Carol

Chapter 14.7 

Chris' Crossroads, or, Screw It, I Guess I'm Talking About Chris Too Now

Chapters 14.9 + 14.10 

Her Mother's Daughter, or, What Amy Learned From Carol

Chapter 14.12 

Piecing Together Chris, or, What Do Monsters Mean?

Chapter 15.7 

Slaves to Fate, or, Predictions and Responsibility

Also Chapter 15.7 

Ultimate Agency, or, Who Is Contessa?

Chapter 16.4 

Mockeries and Funhouse Mirrors, or, Paths Not Taken

Chapter 16.y 

Attempted Therapy, or, Amy Is Not Doing Well

Chapter 17.1 

Family Issues, or, Confrontations Vis-a-Vis Parentage

Chapter 19.1 

The Curious Case of Sarah Pelham, or, A Basic Overview of the Shit That Happened to Sarah

Chapter 19.9-19.10 

The Talk, or, How To Screw Up Your Kids In One Easy Conversation

Chapter 20.e6 

Carol: Final, or, What Has Carol Learned? (Hint: Not Much)

---

PALE ANALYSIS

REDDIT INDEX

Verona and her Dad, a Transactional analysis

Why Verona's Dad is a Literal Manchild - mostly about Out on a Limb 3.1, but with references to 3.4

Adults, Parents and Children

Lucy is Verona's Only Good Parental Figure (and That's Kind Of Sad) - Leaving a Mark 4.2

Pale: Justice

The Cast Of Law And Order: Kennet - Cutting Class 6.z

Practitioner Supremacy

Boy There Are Some Real World Parallels Here - Gone Ahead 7.1

Practitioner Parenting

Regular Old Bad Parenting - Vanishing Points 8.4

Abuse

Brett is an Absolute Bastard - Shaking Hands 9.9

Avery's Games and Gimmicks

Breaking Patterns Is Hard - Dash to Pieces 11.10

Transgressive Acts

Why the Mussers are like the Spartans - Break 5

Practitioners and Others, a Binary

The Binary is a Lie! - Gone and Done It 17.x

Judging the Judiciary

What About the Judges? - Crossed With Silver 19.z

Hostile Environment

Power Plays for the Future - In Absentia 21.12

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 5 Eng Sub

VS THE START OF A ROMANCE and VS HELPING

For downloading instructions and where to find the raw files, please check our masterpost.

[Subs link]

We ask that you not upload our subs to streaming sites.

Sharing with friends is fine. We’re also OK with folks sharing them in other ways as long as they aren’t public. Please use discretion when talking about the fansub outside of tumblr, but don’t hesitate to get the word out in other ways, and feel free to promote it here. Please credit ikeoji-subs whenever possible—we put a lot of time and effort into this.

Feel free to use the fansub for fandom purposes. Gif-making, meta-writing, and other fandom-related creative endeavors made using our fansub are not only welcome but encouraged.

Thank you so much, as always, to everyone who has left nice comments in the tags and such. Y'all really make the hard work we put into this worthwhile!

And big big thanks to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for gifs and spreading the word about the fansub.

translation notes:

About “naresome”

As tends to happen when translating Japanese, this is one of those words that don’t exist in English. Its literal translation is “the start of a romance.” So, while we’ve chosen to translate it as “get together,” it would be more accurate to give a more extensive explanation. It is a noun that specifically refers to the moment that love begins. So when we’re talking about “naresome” we’re talking about the thing or situation that triggered the romantic relationship or romantic feelings.–Snow

about casting Tominaga Yuya as a guy who gets busy when it rains

I think this is another tokusatsu Easter egg. Tominaga Yuya, who plays Jouji in the “Vs. The Start of a Relationship” chapter, was also on Avataro Sentai DonBrothers, a Super Sentai series that ran from 2022 to 2023. His character, Sonoi, was the agent of a culture from another plane of existence whose members feed off of the brainwaves of human beings. At first, he and his associates Sonoza and Sononi were enemies of the DonBrothers, but they eventually joined forces with the Sentai. A big reason this happened was that Sonoi had a special connection to the leader of the DonBrothers, Momoi Tarou. Their relationship reads as pretty darned queer to a lot of viewers, myself included.

Momoi Tarou and Sonoi bonding, before they found out they were nemeses

Many JBL fans know Higuchi Kouhei from My Personal Weatherman/Taikan Yoho, in which he played the titular meteorologist, Segasaki. Part of the premise of that series is that at the start of the story, Higuchi’s character only has sex with his partner on sunny days. Jouji, Tominaga’s Zettai BL character, does the opposite: he and his “sex friend” only do it on rainy days. 

Basically, the writers of Zettai BL 3 have made Higuchi’s toku boyfriend’s story into a reverse Taikan Yoho situation. What are the odds that’s just a coincidence?–Towel

Also, he gets his own “Zettai BL” title card moment (and he’s the only one out of the secondary cast who get to have that).–Snow

That’s right!

I’m going to put this in context a little because I’ve given a lot of thought (probably too much) to who’s been featured in the opening credits of the different Zettai BL seasons. For every season of the show so far, Inukai Atsuhiro has had four other actors perform with him in the opening theme dance number. (All of whom also get a crack at some of those title card moments.) For two seasons, three of the four spots were taken up by Yutaro (Ayato), Shiono Akihisa (Toujou), and Itou Asahi (Kikuchi). The fourth spot was taken up by different actors in the first two seasons. It was the guy who played the attractive dude from the goukon in the first season, and it was Izuka Kenta, who played Kikuchi’s ex Igarashi, in the second. 

This time around, I had hoped that Sekoguchi Ryo would take the fourth spot, because he’s my blorbo and of course I wanted to see him in a retro dance number (boy was that wish ever granted!). But I hadn’t expected Shiono not to appear this time. Maybe there were specific reasons for this, like a scheduling conflict or an injury. It’s not like Shiono appears less in season 3 than he did in the others, so that’s not the reason. It’s hard to say. But in that context, it seems even more significant that they gave a spot to Tominaga Yuya. We don’t know the reasons for this. But it’s possible they featured him more heavily in this way because of his tokusatsu backstory and the inside joke it allowed them to make.–Towel

about “pudding relationship” and “prince and princess”

This part was tricky to translate. As you might have noticed by this point, Mob likes to make puns. In Japanese, pudding is written as “purin” and it is used to refer to pudding as well as custard. Mob goes on to follow with “prince and princess”, which in Japanese are pronounced as “purinsu” and “purinsesu”. In here, there’s wordplay with these similar sounding words and the image of the ToujouAyato couple.–Snow  

about “cuteness overload”

Japanese is a language that uses a lot of onomatopoeia. There’s 4 types, iirc: animal sounds, object sounds (like rain, creaking and the like), things that don’t make noise (smiles, stares, silence, etc), verbs turned onomatopoeia (I unfortunately cannot remember this properly but it was something like that). In this case, Mob says “Kyun ga tomaranai” (which literally means “the kyun can’t be stopped”). “Kyun” is an onomatopoeic word to refer to a “momentary tightening of one's chest caused by powerful feelings,” usually tied to a romantic context but not exclusively. Taking this into account, we thought “cuteness overload” might be the closest expression in English.–Snow

It’s worth noting that Mob is also saying “kyun” right after the “cuteness overload” line. I really thought at first that he was saying “cute,” since it sounds so similar, it would make a lot of sense contextually, and English loan words are so common in Japanese. But no, it was “kyun.” There was no way we could get across the meaning of “kyun” in one or two syllables of English, so we went with “adorbs,” which is just another word for “cute,” but at least it has a cutesy pronunciation that steps it up a notch.–Towel

about bouhan buzzers (16:06)

The translation note shown onscreen during this scene reads: “a bouhan buzzer is a security gadget carried by Japanese schoolchildren.” We did our best to summarize the meaning of this term briefly, so that it would be readable in the amount of time it was possible for us to keep that caption onscreen. But here’s a longer explanation for those who might be curious. 

It took a while for me to understand what these things were. At first I pictured something like a hand buzzer–the kind that people used to use to prank people. But it’s nothing like that. They’re sometimes referred to as “personal security alarms.” They’re little doodads that you can clip onto a backpack or carry in your pocket, and if you activate them (the most common mechanism for which seems to be pulling some kind of tab or string), they make some form of alarm-type sound. I found a video, below, that shows someone activating two different types of buzzers, showing the sound they make. 

These two make the same sort of beeping/chirping noises you’d associate with an alarm protecting a car or the entrance to a building–not really a “buzzing” sound, or anything that resembles the sound Mr. Cheerleader makes in this scene. But maybe there are other types that are more buzz-like, or sound more like the sound our buddy is imitating. 

According to some things I read when I looked these up, children often play with their bouhan buzzers, making it somewhat less likely that people will be on alert when they hear them go off. I don’t think I could have resisted setting off a gadget like this if I’d had one as a child. They seem to be available with all sorts of characters on them and in all sorts of colors and shapes, which is cool but might make them seem even more toy-like. 

From what I’ve seen, these things are most commonly used by children, but adults sometimes use them too. If you look for them for sale online, there are more adult-looking versions available (say, a rose-gold blob instead of something with cute characters on it–though of course, adults might want those too). One listing I saw advertised that they’re useful for kids, women, and the elderly.–Towel

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Freminet with a darling who left him for Lynette. He can't seem to figure out where he went wrong, and why you no longer love him like he loves you.

★🐈‍⬛🩷

haha surpriiiise y'all, I'm back, kinda sorta ;v; it's gonna be even slower updates than what it was previously but after a few months away and a lot of ups and downs, I've gotten back into the swing of things haha ;v; i really and sorry for being gone so long

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, watching darling sleep, mentions of murder, kidnapping implications, and other potential topics/content. Please read at your own risk!

It wasn’t supposed to go this way, no part of his plan was intended to steer things this direction at all. Freminet felt at a loss, watching as you happily snuggled up beside his older sister, smiling at her and showering her in the love that he deserved. He was the one responsible for making you the way you are, for breaking down your walls and showing you what it means to be loved and yet no matter what he said or did, you always just ran off to his sister.

You were supposed to be his, he- he killed for you, you can’t just leave him like this. He’s worked too hard…

What did he do wrong? Did he not love you enough or perhaps too much? Was it something he said? You have to tell him, he can’t stand this. The shelves have been ripped off the walls in his room, his desk flipped over, everything torn out of his closet as he searches for answers, for clues as to what he did. Freminet just can’t seem to comprehend that he was the problem. The Lynette was simply in the right place at the right time, offering you comfort for the woes that Freminet had caused. 

Love makes people do crazy things, but that’s what makes it so worthwhile. It’s why Freminet didn’t bat an eye at your resistance, the way you fought him every step of the way after he brought you home. It was ok, you were just adjusting to the love he provided, the love you needed. But no, you just had to run off to someone else, to leave him shaking in anger as he stared you down, watching you hide behind his sister who defended you. She didn’t even love you back, she couldn’t love you like he loved you. Lynette didn’t care for you like Freminet did, you were better off with him.

“Just forget about her, she doesn’t love you. Nobody but me could love a mess like you, have you seen yourself recently? You should be grateful I love you, should feel honored I put in so much work for you, all because I love you.” Freminet is unrelenting in his mission to get you back, whispering hurtful words in your ear while you sleep, hoping to influence your dreams. It’s the only time he can get close to you, when you’re fast asleep and Lynette is no longer near you. He takes full advantage of these moments, shifting your peaceful dreams into tear-jerking nightmares all while gently loving on you. Peppering kisses all over your face, gently holding your face in his hands, fixing the blanket when it moves off you. As cruel as he has to be during these times, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Freminet has spent his whole life thinking love didn’t exist, now that he had you, he wasn’t planning to let you just up and leave. You belonged to him, his initials inked onto the back of your neck proved that.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

I loved your analysis of the Romeo and Juliet reference in Taylors song it was such a perfect example of why people praise her songwriting so much without realising how hollow it is. I also especially loved how when someone commented that they didn’t have a large enough vocab to understand your post, you actually responded really nicely and offered to explain! It’s such a bare minimum thing but so rare to see on the Internet where people often just ignore such comments or become pretentious. Anyway, definitely earned a follow because your posts seem really cool and I hope you do more song analysis posts, whether they’re praising or critiquing music.

Hello! Apologies for taking so long to get back to you! I’ve been in middle of moving (and it’s taking up much of my time ahaha). I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed my Romeo and Juliet post. I love that play- mostly because of its sly, subversive nature and social reform thematic purpose. I remember reading it in High School and how that was one of the first times I was consciously aware of the power literature holds to shift culture and move public consciousness towards progressive ideologies. Remarkable. For that reason, Swift’s repeated misunderstanding, and blatant, purposeful ignorance surrounding the plays, has always frustrated me.  

I will be returning to the topic to write about the infamous “Love Story” (2009), and I’m also going to debunk a couple of her other literary references like The Scarlett Letter one. Also, I will be posting something about her bastardization of Daphne du Maurier’s “Rebecca” (1938) because she over-simplified the thematic point of the book and made it seem silly, and frivolous, instead of the hard-hitting social reform literature that it is. Much of my frustration with Swift stems from her use of literary genius, and the way she twists these stories into empty- ego-driven narratives that singularly focus on break-ups or centering her aspirations towards praising hetero-patriarchal standards in her music.  

I’m fucking over it- Y'all.  

She has this way of taking literary references, some of the most famous and important works in history, and remaking it into something dull, derivative and nonsensical. She incinerates the plotlines and erases the methodology of the literary work through demeaning the intrinsic social reform efforts of the works themselves. For instance, with my post on her work and the reference to “Romeo and Juliet” I mention how Swift purposely leaves out, or negates, Shakespeare intentional social reform phenomenological base to the line “O be some other name/ What’s in a name?” Shakespeare himself is clearly drawing attention to the ways in which people often judge not by the content of our characters but by shallow intonation of our names and station in society. He is using these lines, and the two characters, to show how hypocritical and judgmental it is to uphold petty difference over the ideal of believing in the prospects of human connection. Shakespeare was a radical in his day- he pulled no punches to criticizing the aristocracy or the values of post-feudal hierarchal institutions.  

Swift took such an intentional aspect of his work, his social reform efforts, and purposely divorced it from the line. Thus, remaking, rewording, it into her line, which was a silly, and self-centered, petulant line about how people really should have been nicer to her because she’s a good girl. It’s so fucking stupid- imagine trying to remake Shakespeare without understanding Shakespeare. I cannot abide- now that I’m grown, and no longer a child, who could mindlessly listen to her bastardization of important literary work- I simply must speak up. It’s important because, I think, that her purposeful misuse of the work- making it devoid of social reform- says a lot about her intentions as a person. She’s not the activist people think she is- she's just another pseudo-intellectual grifter.  

Anyway, I’m glad you found something worthwhile in that post- and I hope you’ve enjoyed some of my other posts since then. I admit that I sometimes venture into posting mere opinion- but for my more serious posts I will stick to interrogation of her work through literary invocation. It’s just what I know best.  

If anyone has any questions about my posts- or confusions about my vocabulary use- I am happy to chat and answer questions! I really meant it when I told that person that I would be happy to re-explain using some different words. Sometimes- I get carried away and slip into “academic jargon” but that’s not what I want my blog to devolve into. I want to share information with people who perhaps have not studied literature- or English. I wouldn’t judge anyone just for having a question or being confused about a certain word. I, myself, make a habit of studying other languages- besides English- and that does wonders for keeping me humble about my own knowledge of English. Haha. :) I do not express myself nearly so well in French or German- so it becomes much easier for me to empathize with those who have a hard time expressing themselves with language too. Language is hard- learning is even more difficult. But what a wonderful, rewarding venture it is to ask a question and learn something new!  

I encourage people’s curiosity- truly.  

And yes- I will certainly be posting about other artists as well. Haha, now that I feel comfortable doing so- I will have some fun with it :)  

Thank you for writing in- I am sending you well-wishes and good vibes.  

[another-lost-mc]

Saying Something Stupid Like "I Love You"

Simeon decides to send his beloved a long-awaited confession of his feelings. Unfortunately, he's never been good with technology.

SIMEON x gn!Reader 2.6k Words | SFW | Angst with a Happy Ending | Misunderstandings Content Warnings: Mentions of drinking/getting drunk. A/N: This was my contribution to the Simeon 2023 Birthday Collab (original submission post and AO3 link).

Simeon groaned in frustration and tossed another crumpled paper into the waste basket under his desk. Despite being a famous writer, he spent the past hour struggling to write a simple, coherent letter confessing his feelings to you.

There was a special event taking place in the Devildom soon, and he was struck by inspiration to confess his feelings - finally, after admiring them in silence for so long - and hope they would accept his offer to be his date. The eager anticipation resulted in dozens of abandoned letters in his trash filled with mistakes: numerous instances of misspelling your name or his own; shaky penmanship that left parts of the letter completely illegible; and at times he pressed so hard on the paper that the pen tip poked through.

Simeon glanced warily at the computer pushed back against the edge of his desk. He was horrible with those contraptions, but spellchecker was such a handy tool that it made it worthwhile to type up drafts of his TSL work. He wanted a more personal touch for his invitation to you and chose a handwritten letter instead. Unfortunately, he was spiraling into frustration and wanted the weight of his confession off his shoulders.

With some reluctance, he reached across the desk and pulled the keyboard closer. His fingers flew across the keys, and before he knew it, he had typed his invitation to you - complete with his confession of his feelings for you too - and read it over twice for spelling errors.

Satisfied, he opened up the Dmail app and attached his letter to a blank email. He tapped quickly on his contacts and added your email address. The screen froze for a moment while the attachment finished uploading. When he hit “Send,” he smiled in satisfaction. He decided he would cook for Luke and Solomon tonight; he was in the mood to celebrate. He shut off his computer (with only minor difficulty) and walked to the kitchen with a spring in his step.

CHAT: The Demon Brothers (7)

Levi: WTF is this?

Satan: What’s wrong?

Levi: Have you checked your Dmail lately? Simeon sent something sooo cringey to all of us!

Satan: Let me take a look.

Beelzebub: I get the feeling this wasn’t meant for me, but I’ll go to the festival with him if he wants. The food is going to be amazing.

Belphegor: I have a feeling this email definitely wasn’t meant for you.

Satan: I agree. Did he send this to all of us by accident?

Levi: LMAO!!!! He’s such a noob with technology!

Asmo: Aw, I never knew Simeon had such a sweet side. I’m totally jealous, I would swoon if one of my admirers sent me a love letter like this!

Mammon: Wanna bet who this was meant for? Oh, I bet he’d pay us whatever we want to keep it secret!

Asmo: Ugh! Way to ruin the romance!

Lucifer: Enough. I will call Simeon and speak to him about this. In the meantime, DO NOT mention this to anyone.

Belphegor: Any ideas who this was really meant for? 

Asmo: I’m really curious about that too!

Mammon: Who cares! This is perfect blackmail material!

Satan: I think I know who it’s for.

Levi: Huh? How’d you figure that out?

Satan: We know who he sent it to and it was obviously a mistake. That’s all I’ll say.

Beelzebub: It’s their turn to cook dinner tonight. I’m on my way to the kitchen to see if it’s ready. Should I ask if they got it too?

Mammon: Huh? What about them?

Lucifer: SILENCE. ALL OF YOU.

Simeon drummed his finger tips against his knee while he read the same page of his book for the sixth time. He made a light lunch for him and Luke - Solomon was busy elsewhere today - and sat in his favorite chair to distract himself. The weight of the DDD in his pocket burned heavily against his leg and the Devildom’s newest bestselling novel couldn’t keep his mind off his confession to you.

An hour ago he felt elated that the feelings he tried to suppress were finally out in the open, but now a new type of worry plagued him: uncertainty. Any angel of his age and status would be familiar with regret - arguably, he’d had more than his fair share compared to most - but exploring these new and wonderful feelings made him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

He jumped in his seat when the DDD started to chime with an incoming phone call. He scrambled to keep the book in his lap from tumbling to the floor. He reached into his pocket, barely conscious that he was holding his breath. Simeon’s eyebrows shot up curiously when he saw Lucifer’s name flash across the screen. It wasn’t the phone call he expected, but he always felt a warm feeling when Lucifer took the initiative and reached out to talk to him first despite their rocky past together.

Simeon tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Good afternoon, Lucifer,” he said with a smile. “I hope you’re doing well.” 

There was a pause, the sound of shuffling on the other end of the call. “Yes, good afternoon, Simeon,” Lucifer replied. Another pause. “Have any of my brothers contacted you?”

Simeon ran his finger along the spine of his book. “No, although now that you mention it, some of them sent me some random emoji messages. I assumed they were sent by accident, I know I’ve done the same in the past. Why do you ask?”

Lucifer cleared his throat. “I’ll be blunt. I know about the email you sent earlier today. More accurately, we all do.”

Simeon’s throat suddenly ran dry and he coughed. Clearly he had misheard. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re—“

“The email you attempted to send earlier to a specific individual,” Lucifer interrupted, “was sent to me and my brothers which I assume was a technical error on your part.” He chuckled dryly. “While your letter was very flattering, I realized quickly it wasn’t meant for my eyes and I wanted to make sure you were aware.”

It was difficult for Simeon to think clearly with the muffled roar in his ears. His face burned with embarrassment and his hands felt clammy. He glared at the computer on the table across the room as though it had done this terrible misdeed to him on purpose.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered dejectedly. He wanted to be angry, but all Simeon really felt was defeat. How had his simple plan gone so wrong? “I appreciate you telling me, and if you and the others could keep this to yourselves, that would be for the best. I’ll have to…figure this out,” he said slowly. He needed time to process this unexpected turn of events.

“I can’t guarantee that they won’t attempt to tease you about this, but I have already warned them about the consequences should they do anything beyond that. But Simeon, I think—“ Lucifer paused, and then sighed. “Nevermind. Take care, and please let me know if any of my idiot brothers bother you.”

When the call disconnected, Simeon let the phone slip between his fingers and fall to the plush carpet at his feet. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. Time seemed to freeze and Simeon couldn’t focus on anything but the burning waves of embarrassment that rippled through him every time he thought about his letter to you. The intimate praise and heartfelt declarations he made felt almost scandalous now that he knew Lucifer and his brothers were aware of the contents.

Despite his awkward handling of technology, his fingers flowed freely against the keys of the keyboard as easily as if they were those of a piano, the deepest wishes of his heart spilling into a digital void and he hoped his words echoed true once they reached their destination. It was difficult not to succumb to regret and doubt now that his plea for your affections had failed; his trials as an angel seemed to pale in comparison to the despair he felt now, as though once again fate had tempted him with something just beyond his reach.

The sound of a door opening nearby jolted Simeon out of his daze. He wiped the dampness from his eyes and stood up hastily, wiping his hands on his slacks and looking around his dimly lit room to make sure nothing was out of place. He bent over and picked up the forgotten DDD on the floor by his feet, and he grimaced when he saw missed notifications flash on the screen. He stuffed the device into his pocket with more force than necessary when a familiar knock rattled his bedroom door.

“We’re back!” Luke beamed at him when he opened his door and poked his head inside. “I picked up ingredients for devil-spiced chili tonight, but you might want to hurry because—“ Luke visibly flinched at the sound of pots and pans rattling in the kitchen. “Solomon said he always wanted to try making it.”

Simeon gave Luke a reassuring ruffle of his hair and followed the younger angel to the kitchen, his personal angst temporarily forgotten as he rushed to salvage their dinner.

Sun peeked through the gap of his curtains and Simeon woke with a groan. He buried his head into his pillow and tried to go back to sleep, but the faint throbbing in his temples promised a lingering headache he would regret later on.

He stayed up later than usual the night before, staring into the fireplace with a frown while he sipped Demonus and prayed the fiery sweet taste would help dull the pain in his heart. After he finished his first glass, he got up with a sigh and went into the sitting room to retrieve the bottle. Solomon was reading on the sofa and raised his eyebrow when he saw Simeon’s stormy expression.

“Rough night?” the sorcerer asked with a teasing smile.

“You have no idea,” Simeon grumbled under his breath when he retreated back to the dark solace of his bedroom. He poured more dark amber liquid in his glass and embraced the drunken haze that fell over him like a veil.

Simeon sat up and winced at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders. At some point during the night he tried to undress himself for bed but failed miserably; his shirt was half-unbuttoned and wrinkled, and one of his socks was missing. He was still wearing his slacks but the belt was unbuckled and loose around his waist.

Simeon swung his legs over the side of his bed and rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes. The shameful events from the day before came crashing down on him when he heard the familiar ping of his DDD. The sound was muffled, and Simeon started patting his bed trying to find it. He stood up on unsteady legs and glared at the tangled mess of blankets. He grabbed his duvet and threw it behind him, but the device was nowhere to be seen.

“Technology is overrated,” he grumbled to himself. He picked up each of his pillows and tossed them aside. Still no DDD. “It’s probably one of Lucifer’s brothers teasing me,” he guessed bitterly. He grabbed hold of his sheets and raised them with a sharp snap. “I should just get rid of the cursed thing.”

He finally heard a dull thud on the carpet. He glanced down and saw the familiar shape of his DDD hit the floor and bounce underneath the bed. It had stopped pinging with new notifications but morbid curiosity and sheer defiance motivated Simeon to kneel down and reach for it anyway; perhaps destroying it later would make him feel better.

It had rolled just out of reach and he flattened himself against the carpet while he stretched his hand towards it. His fingers brushed the smooth surface but he swore when a loud knock on his bedroom startled him and caused him to jerk suddenly. His head hit the bed frame and he accidentally knocked the DDD further out of reach.

Simeon was frustrated and muttering angrily by the time he pulled himself out from under the bed and stalked across the room. He practically ripped the door open, but the curse on the tip of his tongue died in his throat when he saw your concerned face staring back at him.

You glanced at him nervously, eyes darting between his rumpled clothing and the room behind him where his bedding was scattered all over the floor. “Is this a bad time? I wanted to talk to you but I can come back later.”

Simeon acknowledged your generous opportunity to escape for what it was, but he supposed he had to face his faults sooner or later. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. You walked past him when he moved aside, and he closed the door so he could suffer his continued humiliation in private.

“I tried to call you but you didn’t answer,” you said apologetically.

“I dropped my phone,” was his response, and he realized how silly it sounded a moment too late. “I’m not the best company today,” he admitted while he tried to smooth down the wrinkles of his shirt. He was suddenly very aware of his poor appearance and he could only imagine what you must think of him, seeing him in such a haphazard state.

Simeon froze when he felt your fingers brush against his face. When had he started crying? He couldn’t make out the expression on your tear-blurred face.

“Is this about your letter?” you asked quietly. You cupped his cheeks in your hands and he knew they must’ve felt his skin grow hot when he blushed.

Simeon bit his lip bashfully. He covered your hands beneath his own, enjoying the feeling of your fingers nearly entwined with his. “Who told you?” he whispered thickly around the lump in his throat.

“Lucifer sent it to me last night,” you admitted, “but I wanted to give you my response in person.”

Simeon felt the warmth of your body against his own when you leaned against him, a comforting presence that helped keep him steady on his feet. He braced himself for the worst and nodded that he was listening.

You couldn’t help but smile sadly at the look of anxious anticipation on Simeon’s face. “I don’t like the feeling that I make you nervous,” you said. You pulled their hands away from Simeon’s tear-stained cheeks and wrapped your arms around his waist instead.

Simeon leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. “I find myself lost, wandering in unfamiliar territory when it comes to my feelings for you,” he sighed, lips grazing your skin. He answered your hug with his own, his limbs growing heavy with exhaustion as he gave up trying to wear a mask of brave indifference. 

You pulled back enough to catch his gaze with your own. “I love you,” you said with a smile that started shy and soft, but grew wide and radiant when Simeon blinked at you in surprise. Simeon’s only response was a sob that quickly morphed into relieved and delighted laughter. His hold on you tightened and you held each other in his warm, sunlit room.

In a moment of clarity, Simeon pondered that perhaps technology wasn’t so bad after all.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hello Hazel! Hope you've been doing alright! I'm here for the thaumaturgy event, so I'll get to request; i wish to have a divination with alhaitham, with some frankincense, lavender, and a yellow candle too. Thank you in advance, and hope you have a great weekend ahead! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)✨

Frankincense (confidence), Lavender (comfort, calm), Yellow Candle (success, creativity) Alhaitham x gn reader | Divination Ritual warning: slight anxiety about research paper

You tried to minimize your fidgeting but the ticking clock, the shuffling of books and focused feet, and the subtle rattle of Althaitham's clothes were trying your patience. You cracked your knuckles for the tenth time and turned to the window.

Below, people went on about their days. You could see them, small and uncaring to the quiet stress you swore seeped from the halls of the Akademiya. In a way you were jealous. Jealous of how frivolous and free their days were while you were stuck in this glass dome, surrounded by books and students all competing to outshine each other.

You thought a little friendly competition was fine. A good rivalry did wonders to boost output and progress, but what you found wrapped in the guise of innovation and discovery was more like a war where both sides liked to break the rules.

Alhaitham hummed quietly to himself. You glanced his way just in time to see him mark something in the margins of your work. "Were my calculations incorrect?"

"Those are fine," he replied and turned the page. It felt like several hours passed before he returned the sheets of paper to the small folder and slid the whole packet across the table.

"What did you think?" you asked, almost too eagerly as you snatched the file and fell into the chair opposite him. Without waiting, you scanned the papers inch by painstaking inch.

"I found the overall composition adequate. To draft a thesis on the Composition of Elemental Reactions is not necessarily a creative one."

You nodded and scanned his notes on page two. "I know, trust me. But none of the articles I read explored the mental and physical toll on the body of a vision user so I figured this might be worthwhile. Oh, what did you think about the section on the Degradation of Synapsis? Were my charts detailed?"

"They leaned toward your point, however -"

"I know. My sample size is way too small. It's kinda hard to convince people to let me poke around in their minds, ya know. But, if they make me a Dastur I'll be able to get more funding. Huh. You didn't like this?" You slid the paper across the table to Alhaitham. He glanced at it for less than a second.

"The points are contradictory."

"What? How?"

Alhaitham pointed to the document and you leaned forward to get a better view. It was hilarious how obvious it became when he explained it. Though you spent almost an entire year on this project, he seemed to understand it in ways you could never. It was frustrating but also inspiring. One day you hoped to be of equal standing.

That's why you fought so hard. So you could be seen by him, noticed. He felt little for social engagements, and rarely participated in group activities but when it came to study, research, and the unknown, his attention opened up and drew you in like falling sand through widening cracks.

"I see," you said but you were distracted. Distracted by his eyelashes, the way his hair fell over them when he looked down, the elegance of his lips when he spoke. You were transfixed and absolutely not focused on what he was saying.

"You're doing that thing again," he commented and slid the paper back to you.

"What thing?"

"Staring at me."

Your cheeks erupted in heat. "I was listening to you, I swear."

"Of course you were," he said, the slightest hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Do you have what you need then?" he asked.

"I think I do, yeah." But you really weren't sure. This was the culmination of all your work, the chance to prove to everyone here you were worthy. To prove to those who doubted you, your parents, the scholars, to Alhaitham. To yourself. You wanted this.

"When is your presentation?"

"Two days from now. I want to throw up," you joked, reordering your papers and trying to keep your hands from shaking. "Thanks for looking it over. I'll take some time tonight to review them and make changes."

"Best to you then." Alhaitham rose. Normally you would have felt sad at the sudden parting but this was his way. When duty was done, so was he. You pinched the edge of the papers so they sat neatly in their folder when something warm and looming drew your eyes upward. Alhaitham stood beside you, his palm flush against the table, his hair dangling just within view. It took everything in you to fall off the other side of your chair. "When you first approached me, I had my concerns about your tenacity. Kindheartedness paves the way for little advancement in the Akademiya. Yet, in that time I have witnessed your resolve, and seen the beliefs you hold from beginning to end. And though I have and will continue to caution you, it seems I can put worry to rest as it's reasonable to assume you will not be led astray."

You gazed at him, surprised and moved by his words. "That's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me." You chuckled and hoped he didn't notice the rim of tears threatening to spill over.

"Thank you," he said, holding little reaction to the sound of your laughter as it filled your little corner of the library. "You have more work to do."

"Aha, yes. I do. Thank you again."

He nodded and lifted off the table. "Should you require a space to practice, you are welcome to find me in my office. I will be sure to leave my day undisturbed so you may come when you wish."

You froze, blinked. "Oh, okay. T-thanks."

He stared at you for a moment before reaching out to touch your Akasha. A soft ping filled your head followed by a message: a series of numbers. "What is -?"

"The code to my office. It will be locked when you arrive." You stared at the numbers, your heart thudding in your chest. Alhaitham moved but stopped a few strides away and looked over his shoulder. "This may be obvious but do not share that with anyone."

"Of course," you said before watching him walk through the open, sun-filled library while your hand hovered above your ear unable to focus on anything other than the lingering sensation of his fingers against it.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

Master Anthology

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[kosmicdream]

I love manga and comics, but I gotta say. So many of the series i have found most influential to my work either won’t finish, have not finished, or finished in a sort of unsatisfying way. Even if they’re fine, its usually not like.. IT. This is a pretty common experience. I have had a lot more luck watching movies that have endings that felt worth the experience and I’ve started to try to read in hopes to get more exposure to “good endings”.. But i do wish it was more common in my favorite medium to like, have that experience! Even when the endings are pretty good (and there are some, i personally think “paradise kiss” had a great ending that makes me return to the series multiple times over the decades) - I also am like.. I dunno. Its never the highlight of the story, you know. Its not the main reason why you’d read it, is the ending. I would assume most stories across all mediums, the ending isn’t going to be the “best part” anyway. However, after finally finishing watching UTENA earlier this year, I can say that at least for that series (no movie spoilers pls, i still havent seen it ;n;) the ending was in fact, the best part to me and made the entire experience even more memorable and worthwhile to watch. Months later, I’m still kinda amazed that happened! Wish it was not so rare, but also what a treat to get to see something like that felt like what i think an ending to a story should be. Still not a manga/comic ofc, but y’kno. Still good.

Other strong endings for me were: Paradise Kiss (as I said above), There will be blood, Monster, NGE (specifically end of evangelion) … umm!  I don’t know.. Is that really it for me? I like the 98’ Trigun end, but i also hated it as a teenager. So its more of a “nostalgic” one to me, same with Princess Mononoke. I’ll include those just for the sake of having more to think of. There’s plenty more i am fine with and enjoy fine enough.. but i guess its a lot harder for me to find ones that last in my head as what i find to be a satisfying & impressive end.. Of course, endings are all based on taste. Maybe i just haven’t seen enough endings. I think this contributes, along with a plethora of other elements, why writing endings are so hard! There’s just a lot you want to say and it is such a long journey to get there anyway. You are filled with doubt with your executions of ideas, or maybe find the ending you thought of less satisfying than you used to think it was. The longer you spend with something, the more you might find issues. Plus, it really is so hard just to get there. You’re usually falling over with exhaustion just to get to the finish line, let alone do the ending of your dreams. I know when i get to the ends of my chapters, i’m usually so desperate just to get there, i end up feeling like they come out poorly vrs my vision for them. 

Yes.. i have been thinking about endings a lot. Its just something that’s always on my mind, with NRD nearing its close. It still is going to take time of course, but as I revise the last chapters I’m still like left with a lot of feelings with wondering how it’ll come out, if i can even do it, ect. I know i will, its inevitable. But after that, well, my big struggle with FFAK will continue. I know that NRD has given me more tools to handle a series as long as FFAK, but its still getting older and it can be harder to understand all the things I wanted to say with it, what I still can say with it and what is the most valuable to say with it. I can’t do everything! And i certainly have more ideas for it than I could draw, I’m excited to have the story close too. Before it used to make me too upset to even think it i’d cry.. But now i’m like yeah! I wanna know too. I want to share what I thought of, even if its not what readers might have thought it was going to be like. Honestly, with every choice i make in the story, i always have had at least 1 or 2 other options, and I get attached to the other versions of the story that i dont get to make. They all end up very different ends, but still more or less the same story regardless. 

Anyway, just some thoughts on writing and comics today…

[19joo]

It took me a while (like, years haha) before gathering the courage to post this. I've been writing but I don't usually post them publicly. If anyone here has read til the end, please let me know how I did. >_<

Our Last Night

[MCxJake]

"Do you really have to go?", I asked Jake as he is preparing to leave our hideout and run from his pursuers.

He sat in the bed beside me, leaned in closer, and took my hands. "It's gonna be alright. I'll come back as soon as I can. Once we get this over and done with, I'm never leaving your side again. I promise." He gave me the most reassuring look he could. I can only do nothing else but sigh. I know him too well now to see the uncertainty he's trying to mask from his eyes.

We both knew at this point that a desirable outcome is far-fetched. Nevertheless, I chose to hold on. I needed to. Otherwise, I won't have any other reason to keep going.

It's not that I didn't see it coming. I just hope things had never gone to this. Now that Hannah is safe and sound, all that's left is Jake's freedom.

After the Duskwood ordeal, Jake told me everything I needed to know about him. Apparently, we live in the same country, which is currently being ruled by the most corrupt set of government officials. It all began with Jake discovering a sketchy deal between a certain governmemt official and a foreign pharmaceutical company, which turned out to be our country's president. One discovery led to another, and now their organization has obtained a concrete proof that this heck of a useless corrupt "leader" has manipulated the election results.

It was all going so well. Jake's discoveries has been made known to the public. People were enraged, and started demanding justice. However, this government is a difficult group to get involved with.

We are now fighting for our freedom, and we have never been this close. We worked so hard for this. I am willing to do anything, but losing Jake is just a price I just couldn't afford to pay.

Before meeting everyone, I was merely existing. I've been going through the motions for as long as I can remember. I waited everyday for my life to end, because I couldn't end it myself. My body felt like an empty shell moving on its own.

I remember just blankly staring at my bedroom ceiling, contemplating between getting out of bed or going back to sleep again. I reached to my phone and scrolled at the piling messages I haven't replied to in weeks when I received that text message from Thomas. I don't know what got to me, but the urge to reply at his message was strong. When I saw how desperate they were on trying to find Hannah, I decided to sign myself up. Better do something worthwhile for once in my life, I thought.

As we went further, I noticed things gradually changing. I couldn't point out exactly when, but days eventually stopped being as monotonous as they used to. For the first time in ages, I had something to look forward to. The hollow void inside me began to be filled up with a sense of purpose, most of which I can attribute to this hacker who, for some reason, I began trusting with my entire being despite not being able to know a lot about. I don't know how he did it. He is so enigmatic, yet familiar. Despite everything, I never really felt the need to know everything about him. That must have been me going crazy — but I didn't care. When it came to him, things need not to make sense as long as they felt right. I never connected with anyone else the way I did with him.

The day he went into hiding from his pursuers was the day I fully realized can't live again without him in my life. Right then and there, I was finally able to genuinely want something for myself. We could have stopped upon finding Hannah, but I want him to be something more than a stranger I met in the pursuit of trying to save another. I want to be by his side. At the back of my mind, I knew this madness would likely be the death of me, but I'd happily accept my fate if it meant I could be with him.

Damn it. I feel so powerless.

"Maybe this wouldn't have happened had I not been too greedy. Maybe this is me being punished for trying to get what I can't have." I sobbed. "It's not too late, Jake. We can still back out now." I pleaded.

"Don't be hard on yourself. I chose this. It's my fault you got into this mess. I know I might regret this, but I won't ever forgive myself for not even trying to fight for you — for us." His pleading eyes met mine as he pulled me into a tight hug. "Trust me, please?"

He kissed my hand. "Our time is running out. I have to go."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[malacandrax]

Hi! I really look up to your art a lot and I had a question for you! How do you do studies when you find art hard to do? (Ex. Low motivation, lack of ideas, or simply art feeling like a chore, even when you want to do it.) You have such a good handle on body structure and your posing shows so much personality though it, but I'm sure there are times when art feels idle or empty. Do you have a process for working through that? To keep studying?

Thank you, thats so sweet! <3

Honestly I kind of do studies the most when I AM feeling uninspired or lost, they make me feel like I've made something good and ‘worthwhile’ even if I couldn't think of something else to draw or didn't feel like working harder on drawings from my head.

Maybe that's also a part of it- to me studies are easier than drawing from imagination and I find them kind of chill and rewarding. I imagine when I started out studies were probably a lot more frustrating!

I also have spoken with a friend about this and I'm maybe quite lucky in that visual information sticks in my head quite well, almost every time I do studies I find it immediately helpful. Like the other day I drew a behind the head angle, and then found it useful right after, drawing Astarion.

It doesn't last forever though, my memory fades and I have to refresh it again with studies until it eventually becomes more concrete.

I also don't really force it, I do art for my job during work hours and I usually (lately) feel like drawing after work or on weekends, but if I don't feel like it I try and do some other hobby or watch stuff. Sorry though, I know this isn't exactly answering the question!

I guess sometimes I want to want to draw, so I start and see how I feel after ten minutes, if I want to keep going or not, that's maybe the best advice for doing anything when you're feeling meh. It also helps to identify What you want to work on, i have a list in my head of stuff I feel weakest at and I find having it broken down like that helps it feel less like a mountain. Like … things I've picked out lately are :what legs look like sitting in chairs, and heads tilting at different angles. To be honest another thing I've been trying to work on is getting more personality into my poses, it's funny that you compliment just that when I feel it's something I want to work on! I suppose it's a never ending journey haha. I've been reading 'drawn to life' and trying to take the ideas of not just copying reality, but getting more of the essence of it than the technicals!

Saying that sometimes the low stakes 'draw photos that come up on ur dashboard' is fun, in contrast to a focused approach! Or my fav is pausing on movies and drawing that! It takes the worry out, like cool no scrolling for an hour looking for something that will be Perfect Learning Material, just draw something.

Anyway this is very long and I hope it helps ;;;

[xbalayage]

if you’re inspired, silvio + insomnia ily

7.  INSOMNIA :  for one muse to find the other still awake at 3am.

It was late in the night, and definitely not planned for. Time had escaped him during a scheduled inventory sweep of a recent shipment; due to an injury caused by a worker of his, failing to follow safety protocols, the anticipated time ended up taking longer. Luckily, instead of it escalating any further than needed, Silvio was able to talk the guy into his silence and sent for a physician to check on his injuries which ended up not being life-threatening. He heaved a big sigh, brushing his hands together at a job well done, everything accounted for and a bullet dodged all in one night — all he wanted more than anything now, was just to lay up with the woman he loved and hadn't seen since early morning.

As the days grow by of finally accepting his feelings, you filtered through his mind more often than before, always wanting to spend every waking minute with you and as much as he love nothing more than that, he had responsibilities that needed tending to that he trusted no one else to perform than himself. Giving the dazzling sea of stars a glance over, he strode back towards an already called upon carriage to head back to his home of a palace. A home he shared with you.

Once arriving back, you've made him hyper aware of how his steps carry through the halls and the sounds of his jewelry echo with each step, so in times he comes home late like this, he tries to be sufficient at lessening those sounds; partially because surprising you was a fun endeavor as well, getting to see the sudden smile breach your features made his long day worthwhile.

Some nights, it was hard to really give a certain time of when he'd be back home, so you'd often stay up, awaiting for him to enter the doors to your shared room, curled up warm by the candlelight with a new book in hand and the moon's caress shining from the windows onto your body. He could already picture the beauty of the sight now— his ethereal, bookworm looking goddess. The sight was even more pleasing when you didn't hear him coming.

So when he approached the doors, he went to open them quietly. However, to his surprise, the butterfly feeling in his stomach twisted to a gut wrenching one when he didn't see you in bed, in the bathroom, or on the balcony. Anxiety and panic suddenly flooded his rational thinking, leading his thoughts into multiple directions: did you finally get tired of him, were you hurt somewhere alone or had a kidnapper come to use you for ransom? He had to shake his head and pinch the bridge of his nose.

Stop being pathetic and think. She wouldn't just vanish on ya even if she was tired of you. She'd give me a piece of her mind before that. There's no way in hell she's hurt, I have the best people to watch over and treat her in a worst case scenario. And if someone had the brain the size of Glumskull's, they'd leave a ransom note at least and I don't see shit anywhere. Think; where else could she be this late at night?

And that's when it hit him.

He didn't leave any more time to think and acted, making quick work leaving the room and heading down the hall with a mission in mind, not paying any mind to his footsteps and the jingle of his necklaces. He just hoped he learned you enough and his intuition was correct.

Once pushing the door open, he hadn't realized his heart had been racing as the minutes passed but it finally relaxed and fell to a soft rhythm again once his eyes reached your form in the corner of the library, curled up by a single light of a candle with your nose in a book. It must be a good read because you didn't even notice him enter the room, your eyes probably adapted to only the area around you. It was a little chilly tonight, why weren't you wearing anything more to warm yourself?

He mentally clicked his tongue, immediately moving to undo his cloak as he approached you, wrapping it around your shoulders. You jumped at the sudden presence of another person, finally relinquishing your gaze from your novel to look up at the man you'd been awaiting for his return. He could tell from the look in your eye that sleep was teetering at the seems and you had been trying hard to fight it back.

"Why didn't ya bring a blanket? Are you tryin' to get sick? How come you came to the library? The bed's more comfortable and warm than this cold room."

You rubbed at your eye and allowed a yawn to escape your lips. He couldn't help but smile at how adorable you were being.

"The bed was lonely without you. I was just trying to pass the time until you came home, I didn't want to go to sleep without you."

Ah, damn it. A blush crept to his cheeks upon hearing your honest words. It was crazy how bad you were for his heart. Without a second more, he scoops you from the ground and into his arms which you gladly allow him to do, finding yourself comfortable in his embrace. You breathed in a deep whiff of his scent before adjusting deeper into his arms. "Mmm.. I missed you."

How can you still say such embarrassing things? You say them even more when you're on the verge of sleep too. He hopes you know that one day, you were going to be the death of him. He couldn't help his smile. You were like a vulnerable child in his arms; so honest and innocent. He leaned in, leaving a loving kiss to your forehead that lingered a few seconds long before speaking once more.

"Ha, I missed you too, silly. C'mon, sweetheart, let's go to bed."

[turndecassette2]

Re: chainsaw man my personal take is that the first 80 chapters or so are some of the best manga I've read, but it falls off after that.

Anon cause I don't want people to blow me up for saying I don't think pt 2 is all that good either. Weird pacing, inconsistent arcs. I know not everyone agrees with me on that but it just lost me.

I would however say that fma is definitely worth picking up. Its not the darkest story ever but it deals with what I think are some serious subject matters and treats them with respect and gravity. I read it again recently and think it holds up incredibly well.

yeah I like the aesthetics of pt 2 but rn I'm not sure how I feel abt it. really appreciate fujimoto's dedication to always taking things in the direction you least expect, also hoping it will eventually add up to something that will maybe be more satisfying when read in one go the way I did pt 1. there's some cool stuff in there still so I'm hoping he manages to tie it up in a way that feels worthwhile.

(this is dumb since I know the chainsaw man manga is about the titular chainsaw man. but I liked it when pt 2 was all asa & just doing its own thing. not mad it went the way it went, but. also, edit: both parts of chainsaw man are still better than the weird comics I make)

re: dark, that's just me admitting I'm still driven by morbid curiosity like a teenager watching horror movies while their parents are away or something. but I'm fine with stuff that's wholesome, or a bit of both, I think the thing I really NEED in a work is for it to feel distinct & like, honest? hard to explain but I know it when I see it.

[iwriteloveletters]

Rosemary (Cannibal Eren x Reader)

Hiiii!!! Cherub again, this was just a silly one shot I have though of and Eren brainrot had hit me again recently and I love writing about him, this is ofc Out Of Character so super sorry about this!! I hope if you stumble accross my inconsistently written one shot you enjoy it.

TW - BLOOD, KIDNAPPING, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, DRUGGING, MURDER, CANNIBALISM, !!!!NOT PROOF READ!!!!

WORDS - 3,453

He saw you in everything. In the air he breathed, the water he drank, even in the God he prayed to. You were the only human he saw God in.

Most importantly, he saw you in the people he ate.

Several people who matched your exact description were found with limbs missing, it appeared that they had bled out to death after having their limbs torn off brutally.

Was it wrong of you to assume that this was targeted towards you? Many individuals around your age and are in similar professions were being brutally murdered horribly and didn't receive any justice. It’s impossible to catch the murderer.

You try not to let it get to your head but your family and peers have also caught on to this resemblance, no one lets you hear the end of it. Your mother wants your location, your best friend wants you to text them when you get home safe or when you go to work, all eyes are on you and you are sick of it.

At the office you worked at it was somewhat normal about your resemblance to the recent victims, a lot of them don’t know you personally for them to want to intrude on your privacy. You coming to work was simply enough to let them know you weren’t next in this case.

Today was normal as usual, you started off with today's workload and you’re finally on your fifteen minute break.

“Oh hey (Y/N)!” One of your coworkers greeted you. It was Eren Jaeger, he’s been here longer than you and trained you actually when you started here a year ago.

“Good morning Eren.” You sighed as you took a seat in the breakroom.

He scanned your face for a moment, “are you feeling alright?”

You didn’t realize you looked tired or bad overall, maybe you’re coming down with a cold?

“Uhh, yeah? I didn’t think I looked bad today.” You shyly chuckled.

“You sure? I know it must be stressful seeing the recent news about that serial killer.” You didn’t think about it much but it was half true, all eyes were on you and you had your own fears of being next. You’re more scared than anyone around you right now because it feels like any moment now you’ll be caught in a vulnerable position no matter how hard the people that loved you tried to prevent what felt like the inevitable.

“Well… it is stressful. But I know you really don’t know me so I won’t talk your ears off on your break!” You tried to walk out of the break room till he stopped you.

“How about I take you out for a few drinks? Think of it as a therapy session at a bar!” He laughed to himself.

That didn’t sound so bad actually, you thought to yourself.

You’d have an outside perspective on the entire situation and might even receive worthwhile advice.

“Perfect! I’ll take you today afterwork!” He said before you can even respond.

“Alright!” You said without giving it any other thought.

He walked off and you had eleven minutes left to yourself.

The end of your workday eventually rolled around and you see Eren waiting in the lobby, he truly meant what he said about getting drinks after work today. That made you nervous.

You weren’t attracted to him or at least you thought so, but it felt nice seeing a guy around your age and outside of your close friend group wanting to see you and listen to you, that rarely came by. He might be a good guy.

“Are you ready? I’m getting a taxi and I know you don’t drive.”

You nodded your head as you followed him outside.

As you both walked towards the taxi he opened the door for you, he truly was a gentleman.

You guys then sat in silence while on your way to the bar he let you choose, you chose something not too far away from your home so you can still be safe and not spend an arm and a leg on the taxi home.

Eren of course opened the door for you on the way out and even held his hand out for you to grab as you exited the taxi.

“Can’t wait to see what my client needs to talk about today.” He teased as you both went to find good or decent seats.

You both ordered your drinks and continued sitting in silence. You haven’t said a word since you got in the taxi.

“A lot is going on huh?”

“You could say that,”

“Well go ahead, tell me. I’m not your peer with seniority right now, I’m some guy you’re getting a drink with and telling me your business.

“It’s a lot.” You said, you’re trying to warn him or figure out if he’s joking. Any of those answers works right now.

He waved his hand signaling that he wants to listen to his coworker talk about their weird serial killer fear.

“Ever since that serial killer has been going around letting all those people bleed out to death I’ve been stressed, I fit the description of the people murdered and my family and friends won’t let me forget about it. Every day it feels like more and more precautions set up by them, it feels like they’re expecting me to be murdered. Any day now should be my time, they think! And they want to make sure I know that too. I’m scared Eren. I don't want that to happen.” Your voice cracked.

You’re in a bar talking about your fear of being brutally murdered to your coworker and your voice cracks because you’re on the verge of tears.

He rested on your hand on your shoulder, “hey it’s okay, I know it's scary but I’m sure you won’t be next.”

“How would my family know though?”

He hummed while he thought about his answer to that. You wish there was an easy solution for all of this, you really wish that this uncaught serial killer never started their pattern of murders. Life wouldn’t be so full of fear mongering people.

“Show them you aren’t scared, stop sharing, stop letting them track you. You’re not scared anymore, you don’t wanna be scared right (Y/N)?” He broke your train of thought with the most truthful response you ever heard.

He looked at you with a passion you never thought you’d see from someone so distant such as your coworker. It was beautiful to you.

“You can’t let fear take control over you, not even people's fears. You’d spend the day you do die in fear, don’t let that be your major regret. Start off by turning off your location.” He said.

You did as he said and turned off your location and got rid of your Life-360. Your best friend Sasha and your parents no longer have access to it.

“Of course I’ll let them know that I don’t want to share my location with them and why.” You smiled, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You were freeing yourself from other people's fears.

“Anything else you feel like you need to do?”

“No I don’t think so!” You said.

This was a great start to a possible friendship.

By this point you both were on your second drink and began to feel tired. You and Eren agreed on one last drink however to end a wonderful night.

You then excused yourself to the bathroom while your drink was being made. ‘He was such a great guy’, you thought to yourself. You never expected him to be so kind especially during your first after work outing. You really want to pursue him now, in which way is what you didn’t have an answer to yet.

As you stepped forward towards your bar stools your drinks were being placed by the bartender, it was perfect timing. Soon you’d be in bed starting a new day that wasn’t plagued by fear.

“Welcome back.” He smiled as he greeted you back.

You smiled as you took a sip of your drink, then another, and another. You felt great, you were relaxed for the first time in a while. You were understood and validated.

Eren began sharing things about his personal life as well by this point and suddenly you felt drowsy, you couldn’t comprehend Eren well while he spoke and he seemed to have caught on and out an arm around you.

The last thing you heard was Eren saying that you were safe in his care and he will get you home safe. It was dark now.

You woke up and you felt cold, and as you opened your eyes it was still dark.

This didn’t feel like home at all, you were on the hard ground instead of your bed, it didn’t smell like your favorite scented candle anymore. It smelled awful actually.

You were not home.

“Eren?” You called out. You were scared. Maybe something happened to you both.

You saw the glow of a hallway light fill up a small space in the room you were in, you saw a silhouette.

“(Y/N)?” Eren said. He was the man standing over you. He really tricked you? He was so kind and genuine, how could he do this to you?

“Eren, what’s going on I’m scared.” You shook in your spot.

He moved closer to you, you cowered closer into the corner of the room, maybe he’ll back off eventually.

He brought out his hand the same exact way he did in the taxi, you feel so stupid. You even turned off your location and told them they had nothing to worry about. You were stupid and you felt like you were going to get seriously hurt.

“Come with me, angel.” He spoke in the same calm tone as earlier when you were getting worked up about your fears and stress.

You had no choice but to take his untrustworthy hand and follow him wherever he took you, maybe he’ll set you free with minimal harm.

As he helped you up he guided you out the room into what appeared to be his house, it was clean and simply decorated. You both eventually found yourselves in front of a dark wooden door. It looked different from the rest of the house, this door seemed old and had scratched on it.

“Are you going to fucking torture me or something?” Your voice trembled.

He let out a huge laugh, as if you said something so shocking and unbelievable. It felt like him kidnapping you and leading you to this door was the only thing on his list tonight.

“Why would I do that? I just got you here.” He said as his laugh finally died down.

He finally opened the door and the smell that hit you was putrid, you couldn’t even describe what it smelled like.

He shoved you into the doorway first, and you were met with stairs that led into complete darkness. He pushed you further so you had to take a step down in order to not fall down a flight of steps. The smell kept getting stronger and stronger the more you went down with him.

“You smell that?” He said as he was reaching for a light.

“Mhm.” You said while nodding your head, if you said anything else or even thought about the smell a bit more you would have thrown up.

“I can’t wait for you to see this angel.” He finally turned on the light. It was dim in the room now but you saw exactly what he wanted you to see.

The sight that was before you was terrible. There were limbs everywhere, old blood stains on the ground and walls, this was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. That was if Eren let you live long enough to be haunted by this.

He walked over to a severed hand and licked it slowly, as though he was savoring it. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the taste of old blood that has been sitting in his basement for an unknown amount of time.

“This is new, don't worry. I won’t get sick, I have to stay healthy for you.” He locked eyes with you. Dropping the now clean hand back onto the floor.

“You’re… you’re not… the murderer right?” You said, you began to slowly turn around to try and make your escape, the door that leads back upstairs was still open.

Before you could make a run for it, he caught on fast and grabbed your hair by its roots, your scalp beginning to sting and your heart beating so fast you swear he could hear it with you.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he cooed, “I did all this for you.”

You let out a grunt in response, you’re thinking and smelling too much at once. You wanted to pass out and hope this was all a nightmare but your body knew this was reality, your body wanted to run.

He turned your head back around to face the gruesome scene once again, “you’re right, I am that person. But you know, I did do all this for you.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?!” You let out a cry.

“(Y/N),” He sighed, “I’ve been in love with you for months now. You seemed so unobtainable that I had to relieve my stress of not having you somehow! But then with some help I have you all to myself.”

You felt so sick, everyone was right. You were next and he made you feel like everyone in your life was crazy for thinking that. It was only a matter of time before he licked the blood off your hands next.

“You could’ve asked me out normally!” You said.

“Were you attracted to me?”

You weren’t, but it wasn’t because he was ugly; he wasn’t. But he never caught your eye, until he did at the bar and then betrayed your trust in less than five hours.

“No.” You gave in, you don’t understand or respect his actions but you both knew you weren’t attracted to him. He was simply a coworker.

“I started with having sex with people that looked similar to you, but it wasn’t enough. I got so angry that they weren’t you and were never going to be you, so I started killing them. Then that wasn’t enough by the third person I started eating them.” He said. He frowned for a moment but then grinned, what else could be going on in his head?

“But I don’t have to do that anymore.” He said while guiding you back up stairs.

You had no choice but to follow him back up, at least you didn’t have to smell the indescribable rot in his basement anymore. Fear of what was going to happen to you next though was still there, your life was in his hands and there was no way you could fight against him. Not right now.

“I finally have you, isn’t that great?” He sounded so proud of murdering people and kidnapping you on top of that.

“No.” You said, you weren’t going to let him corner you like this, you wanted to be free. Nothing about this was great.

“What?” His voice cracked, he was now trying to hold back tears.

“Nothing about this was great for ANYONE.” You shouted. You turned to face him and his once bright green eyes were dull and empty. It felt like you were staring into the nothingness of space. But you didn’t care, he ate people and kidnapped you. He didn’t deserve sympathy.

“No but I love you, I love you so much you wouldn’t let me have you. This was my outlet (Y/N).” He trembled. He hated rejection more than anything. He then grabbed your arms and began to shake you aggressively, “You don’t get to say what isn’t good, do you understand that?”

You tried to push him off you but he was much stronger than you right now, you could feel the bruises forming on your arms. He was known to have a short temper but you didn’t expect to be the cause of him snapping right now. You knew fighting back was going to make things a lot more difficult for you so you simply stood there helplessly as he shook you like you were a doll.

He continued to shout about how his one sided love for you wasn’t fair and that he wasn’t having fun either.

But why would he continue to eat these people that slightly resemble you? To you he enjoyed this more than anything, to you he enjoyed the chase and the fighting the victims put him through.

He jolted you back to your disgusting reality after a long shouting session.

“Do you understand?”

You nodded as fast as you could, you wanted him to stop shouting and shaking you once and for all. You wanted just a bit of human decency, the decency expected from a coworker.

He walked you to a chair, the chair was light brown leather and had thick arm rests, these were chairs you’d find in hospitals. There were clear signs of old blood alongside scratches. This had to have been used on his victims. Perhaps he simply wanted to eat and murder you? He motioned you to sit and before you could begin to take a seat he forced you into the big old chair.

He crouched as he began to tie your wrists against the arm rests and your legs together to ensure you won’t try to escape.

“I won’t be rough, I promise.” He said while focused on the intricate knots he was tying.

You sat there carefully, the more you sat still there was less of a chance for him to react negatively towards you. But he barely looked at you while he was tying you to the chair.

There was a slight burning sensation but nothing that would send you into hysterics luckily. You simply had to stay still for Eren.

“There!” He exclaimed he was more than happy to be finally done with tying, the texture of the rope also made his fingertips burn too.

He took notice of your red wrists from the friction of rope and skin and kissed your wrists lightly.

His lips were soft and warm, it made him feel more human than he actually was. This man was the Devil to you however, and no amount of kisses will solve that.

“I tried real hard to make sure this didn’t hurt, you know angel?” He said, he was still crouched on the ground, right now he was below you. You knew who had the power here though.

“I practiced.” He said while still leaving small warm kisses on your irritated wrists. It felt like he wanted you to praise him for his ‘hard’ work.

“Good job, Eren.” You tried to sound happy for him but the only tone that you had was an exhausted tone. You wanted to die already.

Despite the exhausted tone you kept with him, his green eyes lit up at you. He looked like he received the highest honor; your praise.

“Thank you (Y/N).” He said, “But no matter how many times I practice with this one thing I could never make it painless.” the light in his eyes died down and he pulled a hunting knife from his pocket.

Your heart rate skyrocketed now, you thought maybe a heart attack would occur and kill you before Eren did but all it did was beat in your chest as well as inside your ears.

“Don’t be scared please.” He cooed, he spoke to you the way you’d speak to a hurt puppy.

He pressed the knife against your skin, with a long drag across your skin red beads followed. Then it became tears of blood leaking out of you.

He had such a hungry look in his eyes it disgusted you. He then pressed his lips and you felt his tongue follow the cut he left behind.

“Mmm… you taste so so good, better than I’d ever imagined.”

You shuddered, everything felt too much for you. The feeling of his mouth, the sting of the cut, the sting of his tongue against said cut. It all hurt and scared you all at once.

He began to suck on the wound for a little while longer before he lifted his head up.

“I knew you were the one for me.”

Based on his statement you knew this wasn’t over for you yet.

[adolin]

Your jock posting is always super helpful, but I’ve got a question! I’ve been doing couch to 5k for awhile, probably the third time over the course of my life, because I need more cardio and running is the easiest to fit into my schedule because I can just put on shoes and go out the door, you know? I can do 20 minutes of sustained jogging, I just hate every minute. I’ve read about how your pace is supposed to be something that you can sustain a conversation during, but I don’t think there’s a pace slow enough that isn’t a walk where I could do that. Do you have any suggestions? Thanks for your time!

hi hi hi I'm glad I could help! The short answer is that you're fine to keep doing what you're doing, actually! the much longer answer is below

So, you're correct that "conversational pace" is ideally supposed to be your ideal easy run / jog pace, but it's really not uncommon for beginners to not really have an "easy" pace because you feel extremely out of breath even if you're going as slow as you think you possibly can.

Short digression. "Conversational pace" doesn't mean that you should be able to recite poetry fluently — if you can burst out a short sentence or do a decent sing-along to your playlist, that's okay. If all you can do is grunt and say "yes" or "no", even when jogging very slowly, then yeah, you want to be able to eventually build an aerobic base where you can jog and have enough breath left to communicate. It just means that you have a goal to work towards.

Anyway. One thing to keep in mind is that "you shouldn't run any harder than X" is a rule of thumb that's geared towards runners who want to optimise their efforts, whether that's a hobby runner who wants to get faster or an athlete who's stacking up easy miles to rest for the quality workouts. But it's not, like, a hard limit. For most people, there aren't negative consequences to doing high-intensity cardio for 20 minutes a few times a week. If you were training for a 10k and needed to hit a certain (higher) mileage, then the fact that you finish all your runs feeling very out of breath might have been more of a concern, because it would be less sustainable. But if you want to keep training at your current volume, you don't HAVE to change it up if you don't want to. Genuinely, the best exercise is the kind of exercise that's convenient to you, so you can keep doing it consistently. If you keep running those 20 mins every few times a week at the same speed, it will eventually gets easier in terms of effort. Once it starts to feel easier, congrats, you're done! Keep on doing those 20 minutes but enjoy being able to breathe better. Maybe you'll hate it a little less, but even if you don't it'll still be short and convenient, which is what most people want in a workout 💪

IF you want to change it up a bit, you could try doing some intervals. Jog then walk until you catch your breath then start again. Jog then walk briskly. Jog faster then slower. Whichever feels more fun or rewarding to you. You can lengthen the C25k schedule for your purposes if you want to fit in longer walking breaks.

(Another common recommendation you might see online is to go slower. yes. even slower. I KNOW; you're probably thinking "I might as well just walk. I'm going slower than if I was walking." But, actually, the mechanics of running and walking are different enough that it could be worthwhile to condition your body for running if you jog at a glacial pace vs. if you were walking briskly going faster. HOWEVER. In your case. I think it's not really worth it, especially because jogging slow as hell can be quite frustrating and your objective is to make it as painless as possible. So I'm bringing this up for completion's sake in case you want to give it a go but I wouldn't recommend it.)

I hope this helps!