#don't be alarmed that's just what he does

[iminrage]

the batkids are strong in their own rights. they're used to protecting their friends and loved ones. they are the protective one in their teams.

however, whenever Bruce is around, all of a sudden they became kittens held by the mother. all those protective instincts? gone. they are now with their father and their job is to duck or satay away or run to safety when instructed. jumping in front of harm's way? that's dad's job. them's the rules.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Yandere destined one... deciding to courtnap his new obsession. I would love to see this!

(I don't write much destined one but I'm really liking his character!)

Two young children sat in the shadow of the apricot trees, fresh and juicy fruits in their hands while they spit away the seeds, playing and laughing. Your childish laugh echoed when you were able to defeat the young one beside you.

Your innocent and naive mind never found trouble in his look, after all, how many kids could have said to be friends with a demon monkey?

"You know," you said, chewing another fruit, "my big sister is going to get married soon, and they promised me to buy me a new dress!"

His eyes narrowed; his sharp canines bit in half the apricot with one strike.

"What does marry mean?"

"It's when two people love each other a lot and they start to live together!"

"Oh…we do the same! But without new dresses…" He looked at you, his tail swirled around. "Say, would you marry me when we get older?"

You inclined your head, confused by this question.

"But you're a monkey!"

"I know! So? Do you want to?'

"…ummm…"

You bit into the apricot again, clearly questioning if you wanted to get married in the first place.

///

The open window allowed a soft breeze to enter your room. Your small figure held the doll that your father gifted you for your birthday to help you sleep, especially since, for some reason, your sleep seemed quite disturbed and erratic.

Strange noises came from your room, alarming both of your parents and the servants.

Sometime you woke up, feeling a pair of eyes watching you. Sometimes you actually saw a figure, and every time your screams woke everyone, alerting them and making them come to you in fear.

During the day, when you were able to meet him, you told him about those nightmares, fearing what was happening in the security of your own house.

"I'm sure those are just nightmares! Who could even think to hurt you?"

And you wanted to believe him, but the truth was beyond everyone's imagination.

Your parents always told you to beware of yaoguais, especially the monkey ones.

"As simile and harmless as they look, they can be conniving and prone to lying! They have an eye for treasures and beauty, and they're ready to steal!"

But a child doesn't know better, and you thought of him as a friend. You played with him, shared snacks with him, never knew that he had a treasure in his mind all of this time, and, despite the age, he had already enough courage to try and steal it.

You wanted to be brave, a brave little girl, and, instead of screaming, that night you pointed the light of your candle closer to whatever was roaming in your room.

Your eyes met the one of your friends, occupied in preparing a bag, with your staff.

When you screamed, your parents finally met who was trying to steal you. He ran away, betrayed and in fear.

You never saw him again.

///

"And what did the fortune teller say about the date?"

"The ending of the month is a good date!"

The voices of your mother and your grandmother were just background noises in your head. Looking out of the window, your eyes fall on the old apricot orchard, with the white petals falling down like snowflakes. An inch of nostalgia and fear came back to you, remembering what memories held that place. Sitting on your chair, the breeze outside the window didn't give you the chance to be part of the discussion between your family, even if you were at the center of it.

"My child is getting married! Her father acts all grumpy about the expenses, but he's just so sad to see his princess become a bride!"

It wasn't like you didn't want to get married; to be fair, it wasn't in your mind at all, and you were mostly acceptable of the event.

Your spouse, the man who insisted with all his soul to marry you, was the child that came to you after the rumor started to spread.

The girl of the monkey, a girl that had almost been taken away from her house by a demon monkey.

The child came to you, curious about why a demon should want to take away such an ugly girl like you. You didn't know if you were ugly, but you knew that you didn't want to take that offense, and so you punched him. You two became friends; he started to play with you, allowing you to finally come out from the fear of meeting the monkey again, the fear of being captured.

You forgot about that fear…Maybe it was because you wanted it to be as far away as possible that you decided to accept marrying your childhood friend, even if, more than love, you felt for him a connection like with a brother.

Well, it wasn't like you had any friends or suitors since your background…Better accept it, you thought.

While looking at the orchard, something caught your eye, a glint, something shining between the flowers and the leaves. Strange, it wasn't the right time to tend to the trees… You tried to look better, your eyes glued on the plants, when the cranky voice of your grandmother called you back.

"Child, are you listening? "

"Uh?" You looked at her, completely spaced out. She sighed, massaging her face.

"Dear Y/N, how are you planning to be a good wife if you can't even listen to your old baba?" She smiled again, caressing your face gently. "We were talking about the decorations!"

And, by being dragged back in the discussion, you failed to notice a tail moving like a snake in the trees and the glint of a sword.

///

The smell of the powder and the incense was almost intoxicating; you had to plead with your mother to let the maiden open a window to allow some fresh air to clean the room. You were in a remote area of the house; no one could ever be able to trespass there, so why bother fearing being seen?

The red silks adorned your skin like the petals of a peony, the blue gems in your hair to symbolize the ever-l'astinenza phoenix, the crystal flowers decorating your neck and ears…

You needed to look better, the gentle ray of sun illuminating your face like no candle could even. You never were someone that proud or arrogant, but this time you had to admit it to yourself: you were standing.

You gasped; the makeup on your skin gave you an aura of elegance and refinement. It was like a princess was sitting in front of that mirror.

Your mother must have noticed that a sense of pride took over her.

"Oh…oh, my baby," her voice starting to crack, holding a handkerchief to stop the tears from ruining her makeup.

"Mom, please!"You tried to calm her down, "Don't cry!'

"Forgive me, my dear," she sighed, "it's just so much for me…"

You smiled; a sigh escaped from you. She's been crying since the news of your engagement, so overwhelmed by the fact that her little girl was now becoming the bride of a fine young man. The child that was marked as the chosen by the demon was finally getting free…

You caressed her shoulder, hugging her with fondness, looking at the maid that even she couldn't contain the happiness.

"Please," you said, trying to calm your mother, "can you take Mother to take some fresh air? I can take it from here…"

She nodded, helping your mother to stand up and leading her out of the room, closing the door behind her to give you some privacy.

You turned your face back to the mirror, smiling again at your reflection on the surface.

You were getting merry; soon you would leave the house of your parents to live with the man that promised to protect you from an old nightmare…

You felt a little bad, but you cared for him, and you knew you were holding nothing but affection towards him.

He could have asked someone else, and yet he chose you. He properly courted you… Yes, it was better like this…

You yawned a little, feeling a wave of exhaustion crashing on you all of a sudden. How strange…Well, you had woken up quite early for the preparations, and you had no time to take a pause from your big day. Sitting down in silence, the sweet smell of the incense was making you quite dizzy and sleepy.

Without even acknowledging your action, you allowed your head to repose on your arm, sustained by the wood of the vanity. You didn't plan to fall asleep, only to rest your eyes a little. You promised yourself to not ruin the dress or your makeup.

Why were you so sleepy? Was always the incense of this smell? You didn't know; you felt so tired right now.

How funny, three people in a room and no one noticed a hand from the window, pouring a strange powder in the incense burner.

You were so tired; the figure slipping in your room was probably a dream.

///

"Oh my, she looks like a goddess!"

"Is she a princess, Mama?"

"Not for us for sure!"

The giggling from the monkeys was whispers in the cavern, echoing through the walls alongside the sound of water drops and the small cascades that were born from the main stream and found passages in the mountain.

The small taunts and remarks were silenced in the ears of the now-grown monkey, far too occupied in admiring your beauty, now sleeping peacefully. Not anymore the small cub that tried several times to take you away once, too small and frail to actually do it. Now he was older, stronger, and bolder; he had found no problem in holding you in his arms, like he had found no problem in slicing the throat of the young maiden and bursting like an old pumpkin the head of your own mother.

Killing the maiden? It was precociousness; he needed no one to set an alarm when he was taking you with him on the mountain cave behind the waterfall of his homeland, but with your mother…that was personal.

He had such a hate towards your parents that he swore nothing could compare to it.

He could have accepted the fact that for some mortals, taking away their own mate could be seen in not such a good light, but he was a kid! Who could blame the ignorance of the youth?!

He was able to understand that, but it was when he had come back with his father, to discussing the proposition of letting you two get marry once you were both old enough. He was even able to accept the idea of just doing it in the mortal way, acting as a human; that was nothing if the price was having you at his side forever.

"Our daughter will never be the spouse of that monster."

Since he was a child, those words were like fire branded in his mind. It was at that time that he decided that no matter the cost, having you was his real mission. No matter what the Elder said, bringing back the old Sage was just another way to prove how your parents were wrong.

He had trained a lot, you see? He had become stronger, just to protect you. He hated the fact that your parents put so many guards near your house; he even suspected that they forced you to not set a foot in your sacred haven, the apricot orchard! Where you two met, when he had proposed the first time to marry you.

You were silent that day, but you were just shy, right?

His hands caressed your rosy cheeks, your sleeping form on the mattress of thousands of flowers to help you sleep, until at least he had done what was needed to be done.

He could have stayed there for days, admiring your innocent, relaxed face, your chest rising and falling alongside your breath, in those beautiful garments made for a bride, his bride.

But he still had some jobs to do, he told himself, sighing, holding his sword to his side and his staff in his hand.

He needed to take care of your father and to that…boy.

Since the day he started pestering, how much he wanted to rip his fingernails one by one, to pluck his eyes and tongue to make him eat them, to rip his guts from his body and strangle him with them, to make him suffer in every possible way, to try to take his beloved Y/N away from. Marry him? The thought made him sick, like he could have been even at your level! Your parents were fools to accept his proposals; they did so only to keep you two apart, of course!

But that was over; today your life as newlyweds was beginning. Kissing your forehead, he saw your sleeping body move a little. He hoped you were dreaming of him because he had dreamed of you for such a long time.

And so, after another loving glance, he started marching out of the cave, ready to make some more blood spill.

@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos

@nerium-lil

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666 @sleepingdramaqueen @whitefox2k18 @ladydoe8 @jeminiikrystal @theactualgir @birdioarts

@jssy96 @silenthopper @nezukos-number1fan

@blackknight-kai

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ☃️ speeding hearts / zayne x reader

synopsis; you have a crush on your charming physician, and it looks like you can't hide it as well as you thought.

🍎 pomme's notes - this is my first time writing for zayne (or writing in a while), so hopefully this is not too OOC or strange!! i've got more experience writing academic papers, but i'll improve as i keep writing!!

⋆ 800 words / pure fluff / reader is gender neutral / 2nd person

"any noticeable changes since your last visit?"

you're back at the hospital after a week — some heart issues following an encounter with wanderers, nothing too serious. it would've gone unknown had it not been for that stupid hunter's watch of yours, your heart rate rose up so much, the association couldn't risk ignoring it and letting one of their elite hunters face health issues. one mandatory meeting with jenna, 3 weeks of PTO, and here you were, faced with zayne, his eyes showing concern and something else. but that might just be you. right..?

"all good, doctor zayne! i've been feeling healthier than ever", you smiled nervously.

this was stupid. you were fine, of course you were, but the sight of zayne worrying about you sent your heart into overdrive, and that seemed riskier than the wanderer encounter. stupid stupid crush. he was just so sweet, and although your text messages contained a whole lot of his nagging, you couldn't help but feel awe at his care.

was he like this with all of his patients? surely he was. despite his cold and aloof vibe, you know him. he's always put others before himself, and he probably cared about all of his patients all the same. but god, that couldn't stop your poor little heart from thrumming every time he opened his mouth to ask questions about your health. and you answered, half distracted, because how could you focus entirely on his questions about your health, when you had such a nice sight in front of you?

his pretty hazel eyes, which scanned you in search of any anomalies regarding your health.

his neatly styled hair, which you'd kill to run your fingers through.

his lips looked so soft. did he use lip balm? how would they feel on yours?

you were staring, and you knew that. get it together!! he's busy, and he probably wants to get this over with and check on his other patients. you should be a good patient and stop ogling at your physician.

"Y/N?"

"oh- yes? so sorry, i zoned out."

he hummed, eyebrows raising slightly.

"i was just letting you know i'll be checking your heartrate. the stethoscope might feel a bit cold, alright?"

as he leaned in slightly, his hand ever so steady, your brain was going hundreds of miles per hour. he's so close. his cologne smells so good.

"does your chest feel uncomfortable? your heart's been thrumming at an alarming rate."

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck stupid stupid crush and stupid stupid stupid heart that told on you. you could feel the heat rising to your face and your cheeks getting increasingly more and more red and all you could do was laugh nervously.

"i-", you choke a bit, "i'm okay! no discomfort!! all good here!!!"

zayne frowns, clearly dissatisfied with your answer. he inhales and shakes his head a bit before speaking again.

"i'm your doctor. you don't need to hide if you feel discomfort, your face is growing more and more flush too. i'll order some more tests so we can figure this ou-"

"zayne." you interrupt him, and before you can stop yourself, your thoughts come out like a waterfall, cascading from your mouth.

"i'm fine, i promise it's just — you're just — i'm nervous. i don't have a fever, and i don't have tachycardia or whatever it is you're thinking about it's just-"

"just?"

"you're just — you're attractive!! i can't help my heart beating fast when you're looking at me like that, and i know it's stupid but i can't help it and i know that you care about all your patients the same and i'm-"

words suddenly stop coming out when you feel his cold hand over yours. you're breathing hard, only now realizing what you said, and you can feel your face turning from rosy to vermillion. now you've done it.

you lift your head slowly, to look at his face. please, please, make it so he's not weirded out, you pray silently. and when you finally make contact with his hazel eyes, you see him looking at you, oh so earnestly, his ears growing redder by the minute.

"i don't.. care about my patients all the same. i don't text my patients to nag them about their health and habits, you know."

you open your mouth, trying to say something but he speaks first.

"i'm going to finish your health report, and we can talk over dinner later. and you can tell me all about how i'm looking at you and how attractive i am and we can.. call it a first date. deal?"

his eyes soften, and he runs his thumb over your knuckles. your eyes widen slightly, and you can't help the smile that takes over your face.

"deal."

maybe your heart wasn't so stupid after all.

🍎 pomme's final notes - EEE!! baby's first post!! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! zayne's my favorite LI (and also my ideal type) so imagining cute scenarios with him is super easy!! my ask box is also open! do let me know if you have any cute ideas for him (or any of the LIs!) and i'd be more than happy to write a cute little thing if inspiration strikes :9

[redsrooftopprincess]

Hi!! I love the way you write the bayverse boys, especially your headcanons! My favorite has to be your disability headcanons, I'm disabled and I love seeing representation. Would you be willing to write some headcanons of how the boys would act with a disabled partner? I know that's kind of a vague request since there are so many different ways to be disabled, but maybe some general headcanons on how they'd be with a partner that just has a hard time doing the "everyday" stuff, like getting out of bed/brushing teeth/walking around for a long time? I understand if you're not comfortable with writing this!

Hello, my dear anon! You're in luck! Luck? Is that the word? Idk. I, myself, am disabled! I'm only really comfortable writing the disabilities I'm intimately familiar with (without extensive conversation with people who do have them), but I CAN speak to the ol' classic combo of ADHD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, and Sensory Processing Disorder (I have an alphabet full, but these are the main 3 that cause me daily issues).

AuDHD Reader Headcanons

Here are some ways our boys would actively love a Sensory Avoidant Autistic with ADHD (much, non-physical love to my fellow neurosparklies), and a few things they might have a little trouble with.

Leo

Don't worry about a thing, love. He's got you covered.

Need a dark quiet place to hide for a while? His room exists. It's already perfect.

Leo's a light sleeper, so your very soft morning alarm, *will* wake him, but he loves that he doesn't have to endure an obnoxious wake up call.

If he's not there to fix them himself, your current breakfast foods and drinks are already on the counter waiting for you. A lunch box / containers sitting behind them, just in case you can't eat yet.

Always has a portable safe food on hand in case you get distracted or forget to eat AND forgot what he laid out for you, as well as earplugs, sunglasses, a water bottle in whatever temperature you prefer, and a soft hoodie just in case you're having one of *those* days where *everything* is too much.

Expect him to be checking in every few hours. He doesn't want to overwhelm you with constant attention, but will ensure meds, water, and food happen.

If you can't speak, he'll usually be pretty good at picking up on what you need until you can talk again.

Issues:

Leo has OCD. While at first, he may be fine picking up after you when you leave a mess, it could build resentment after a while, so try not to keep your stuff in his room.

Leo's never had an issue with executive function, so expect him not to understand why you can't just *do* the thing. It'll take a bit for him to get that your brain needs to play before it's capable of doing a task that doesn't give you dopamine, and he may give you a hard time about "getting the important thing done first."

Raph

He's got this. Donnie's autistic, so he has an idea of what to expect... at least, he thinks he does. Hopes he does. Regardless, he'll figure it out.

He cleans the HELL out of his room the first time you come over, no chaotic mess or wierd smells allowed. He may have a bit of an issue *keeping* it that way, but if he notices it's affecting you, he'll handle it.

Pressure. Therapy. My guy gives the BIGGEST BESTEST hugs and will hold you as long for as tightly as you need. (This is really all of them, but I have a favorite, okay?)

OT anyone? Existing physically is hard when you feel like you have to tell every part of you, separately, what to do. Posture and overall muscle mass and flexibility suffer. Raph is there to make sure that doesn't happen. He won't be a dick about it, and he'll find ways to make the weightroom more sensory friendly, but he won't be okay with you neglecting yourself.

Similarly, nutrition! Raph has this uncanny ability to make just about ANYTHING into a safe food. Up to and including removing things after the dish is done cooking. If you order take out and you don't like mushrooms (or your disliked ingredient of choice), expect them to be removed before you even sit down. Multivitamins and hydration are also priority, and expect him to occasionally shove a water bottle in your face. He has a vested interest in you staying healthy.

He usually knows how and when to interrupt you to avoid the bulk of hyperfixation rage, and even when you snap at him, he knows not to take it personally. He's used to Donnie's "moments," so he'll just silently raise a brow ridge and wait for you to fully come back to earth.

Loves to sing and when you lay on his shell the reverb of his rich baritone feels niiiiiice. 10/10 for sensory regulation.

Listens oh so patiently to your info dumping. Half the time he has no idea what your saying, but he loves the sound of your voice and he loves how excited you get about your latest hyperfixation. Seeing you bouncy and bright eyed about... cereal or whatever, can fully turn his day around.

Issues:

Raphael is a physical guy, If you are touch averse, expect this to be a problem. He'll try not to take it personally, he knows it's not personal, Donnie doesn't like being touched either, but it does mess with his head for a while. During those times you're okay with physical contact, try and give him all the reassurance.

Can be a bit pushy about your health and safety at times. Usually it's easy to determine when there's an actual threat and when he's just being overprotective. He's getting better about the latter.

Donnie

'Tism twins!!!

While there is the usual social tapdance of "what type of neurospicy are you?" when you first meet, you both know how important it is to get as much information as possible right up front, so you know how to operate around each other.

Infodumping becomes an art form. You can see be working in silence for hours when one of you will start talking, already halfway through your own conversation in your head, and the other is instantly on board. You learn a LOT from each other about the most beautifully random things.

Expect him to keep a small fridge/pantry stocked with safe foods (when he remembers) and drinks (when he remembers). You more or less end up taking turns restocking everything when you notice the other's safe foods are out.

Fidgets. Everywhere.

Understanding that when either of you check in with the other to make sure they're staying on task, it's not passive aggressive, and your genuinely asking if they need help staying focused.

Has a "Sensory Regulation Chamber" in the lab that's essentially just quiet room stocked with anything either of you need to regulate. Sunglasses, fluffy sweaters, a drum set, you need it? He'll get it.

Issues:

Beware the usual issues that arise with Neurodivergent couples, when your 'tism clashes with his. If you need quiet and he needs to infodump, you can direct him elsewhere, but you're his person, and he wants to tell YOU. So expect pouting.

Hyperfixation rage on both sides can be a huge problem, and if you're not careful, it can quickly turn into a full blown fight over nothing.

Mike

It's all good, Angel. Whatever you need.

The most chill about it, and will fully roll with the punches whenever something happens he isn't expecting.

Snacks? Snacks. No need to worry about the stress of sitting down to, or putting together a whole meal. He's got your safe snacks on hand at all times.

His hoodie is now your hoodie. Full stop.

Want to watch the same movie, listen to the same song, play the same game, or eat the same food seventeen times in a row? Hell yeah! Let's go for the record!

Many with SPD (sensory processing disorder), know how helpful cannabis can be. He and Donnie are already tinkering with some plants, so he'll put a few aside to breed into something that tones down the world without leaving you tired and foggy.

Will listen to you infodump for hours with a goofy lovestruck smile on his face. You'll think he isn't listening, but he'll surprise you with something later that shows just how closely he was.

Issues:

OVERSTIMULATION. And NOT in the fun way (maybe the fun way, but that wouldn't necessarily be an "issue"). Both he and his space are bright and loud and there's a lot of stuff with very little organization. which we all know isn't a problem... Until, suddenly, it really *really* is. Set up a quiet space. You will need it.

Similarly, he's got a bit of a codependency issue. They all do, really, but Mike's is pretty extreme. Before you, things were... dark. And now you're here and things are awesome and what do you mean you don't want to snuggle on the couch right now? Did he do something wrong? Handling touch aversion and your occasional need for solitude takes him a WHILE.

ALL OF 'EM

These boys are sensory heaven. It's like they were made for sensory regulation. From textured skin to big strong arms to their churr basically solving every problem in your world, if only for a little while, expect them to be your safe space and refuge.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15 @its-a-me-emmabee

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Forbidden Fruit (Winchester men x female reader) - Chapter 4

You're over at the Winchester house, meeting Dean and John for the first time. When you and Sam disappear to his room after dinner, Dean and John think about what it would be like to be with the girl the youngest Winchester brought home. And maybe, just maybe, you're thinking of them too...

Read it on AO3

Rated E

Part 2 coming to AO3 this Sunday!

Chapter 4 - You

When you wake up, Sam's peacefully sleeping next to you. You shift from under his arm, try to stretch. The faint light of the alarm clock on the night stand says 1:17.

You blink a little, trying to get oriented in the dark. Right, you're at Sam's place. This is his room. His bed. You smile a little at the thought.

Usually, Sam has to sneak in through your second story bedroom window, thank God for that old apple tree and its thick branches that can even carry someone his size. But tonight, you're at the Winchester house. Which also means you'll have some explaining to do at home tomorrow. That's a problem for future-you, though.

You sit up, watching Sam in the soft LED glow. He's on his front, face turned toward you, moving the tiniest bit with every deep breath he takes. He's just so handsome to look at. His lips slightly parted, that little spot next to his nose... you really want to run your hand through his soft hair, but you wouldn't want to disturb his sleep.

You're not sure what woke you, but you know you're probably not going back to sleep any time soon, now that you're up.

So you just sit there for a while, contemplating. You think back to the events of the day.

How you and Sam had been sitting at the library, going through the new brochures for Yale they had sent. You had joked and pretended to be a TA trying to get him to enroll, and it had turned into this whole sexy thing.

And then Sam had suggested taking you back to his place, because while sex at the library was definitely on your bucket list, maybe the afternoon they had the kids' puppet show on wasn't exactly the best time.

You'd always wondered what the home of Sam Winchester looked like, even though he never called it that. He had told you not to get too excited, but that you'd have the house to yourselves, an entire evening to try at least some of the things you had talked about, teasing each other.

And then his brother showed up. Dean. The one you've heard so many stories about. The one who was an insatiable ladies' man, the one that kept eye-fucking you from the minute he walked in.

Truthfully, you hadn't been his number 1 fan from everything Sam had told you about him. But then he'd made his jokes, which were at least to some extent funny, and the way he'd talked to Sam... it was more than obvious that he cared a lot for his younger brother. Just like you do. And you let your hard shell melt a little, for Sam's sake. You could even say that you enjoyed the playful banter with Dean, although you're still a little on the fence whether it was innocent or not.

It was a light atmosphere, a pleasant evening, up until John came home. You're still a little baffled at the way both brothers tensed up when they saw their father coming in. How Dean went into good little soldier mode, and how Sam retracted into his shell. John hadn't really done or said anything, but you're sure the version of him you witnessed earlier is not the one the brothers are used to. You just know that something had made you uncomfortable, you had suddenly felt the urge to protect Sam.

You'd carefully watched John during dinner, trying to pick up on the slightest behavioral cues, and you do pride yourself in noticing such things easily. But that guy... he just seems impossible to read. You haven't met many people like that. Maybe it's because of his job. You don't actually know what he does, but you do know that Sam has been weirdly vague about it. From your own experience you know better than to keep prodding at someone's... strained relationship with their parents.

You wonder if he's the reason Sam acts like he does. You've never met a man like Sam. So kind, reflected, serious at times, at times sassy. Not to mention the things he does to you in bed, the way he handles you.

You had been dating for a full month before you believed him he was actually younger than you. The way Sam talks about his outlook on life, about emotions, it's just so different from other people his age. Or your age, for that matter. Maybe that's because he had to grow up too fast in this family.

You think about California, he says he's not sold on Stanford, but you know that's what he wants. About how driven he is to get into a good college, maybe even on a scholarship. You know he'd absolutely nail it. And you hope that somewhere in the plans for his future, there's room for you.

You try to shake the gloomy thoughts off. College is still ages away for Sam. And maybe John's just had a real shitty day, maybe, when he's in a good mood, he's all sunshine and rainbow-kittens. You doubt it, but innocent until proven guilty, right?

You quietly hop out of bed to get yourself a glass of water. You hesitate for a second, pondering if you should put on your skirt because Sam's shirt that you're still wearing is barely covering your ass, but you decide against it. After all, it's the middle of the night.

You open the door, careful not to make any sound, and move down the narrow hallway. The TV is on, the volume turned all the way down. You can't really see it from the hallway, but you see the hue on the wall changing colors.

When you reach the kitchen you feel around in the dark for the light switch, finding it to your right. It goes on with a low buzzing sound, and you have to shield your eyes from the sudden change in brightness. As you keep blinking, muttering under your breath, you suddenly hear a voice, not that far away.

"Why hello, there." Your hand shoots down, tugging at your shirt, because you're sure the way you had your arm up against the bright light had your panties out for whoever is there to see. You feel your cheeks turning pink when your eyes finally adjust and look straight at Dean.

He's standing there, next to the sink, a huge glass of water raised to his lips, and he's wearing nothing but his boxers. The man looks like a goddamn Calvin Klein model. And there's a charming little grin on his face.

Your mouth opens, and it takes way longer than it should for you to say something. "I... I just wanted to get a glass of water."

Dean nods, obviously holding back on something he wants to say. He puts his glass down, reaches for another one over the sink and fills it up to you. While he's not looking, you let your gaze wander over his tantalizingly exposed body. The way you can see his muscles contract under the skin with every movement, how his briefs tightly hug that perfect ass, and the outline of...

You force your eyes back up to meet his when he turns to you, offering you a full glass. Not that his face is any less worth looking at. You reach out to take the glass from his hand, and your fingertips brush against his. You're not sure if your movement is uncoordinated because you're slightly distracted by his practically naked form, or if his grip on the glass is a little too firm, but when you try to take it a substantial amount of its content spills over, landing on... Dean.

Without thinking, you pick up the towel on the kitchen counter next to you, and before you know it you're rubbing him down. A couple of seconds later you start realizing what you're doing, and so does he. You can see every muscle in his body tense up, which is a wonderful sight to behold, and also way more sexual than you'd like. You stare at each other for a moment, his remarkably green eyes searching your face.

You clear your throat, mumbling an apology to him and let go of the towel that he immediately catches. "Don't worry," he says, his voice rasp. "Nothing happened, right?" You're not sure if he's talking about the spill or the fact that you were pretty much feeling him up.

You stare at him for a little longer, and then turn away to start gulping your water down like you've been stranded in the desert for 40 days. Dean finishes drying himself off, then excuses himself to go back to bed, taking the towel with him and holding it suspiciously in front of his crotch. 

You stand there for another minute, put your glass in the sink. You shiver a little, not sure whether the air has suddenly gotten a little chillier or if your nipples have suddenly gone hard for a different reason. 

Your mind flashes back to Dean, just standing there in his stupid boxers, with those stupid muscles that make you want to run your tongue all over him while grabbing that stupid perfect ass.

You snap awake, shocked by your own thoughts, and try to take a deep breath.

You wait a little longer before you move, giving Dean time to really go to bed, and then leave the kitchen. You flick the lights off, running your hand along the wall to find the bathroom. You only switch on the small lamp on the mirror over the sink and sit down on the toilet to pee.

When you're done you decide not to flush, not wanting to cause more commotion in the Winchester household. You'll probably be the first to get up in the morning anyway. You wash your hands, take a good look at yourself in the mirror and then pull on the little string next to it, to quickly make your way back to Sam's room in the dark.

You manage an entire three steps out of the bathroom door before you bump into something nose first. Into someone.

You were rushing so fast that you almost lose your balance at the sudden impact, you probably would have landed on the floor if it weren't for the two big arms wrapping around you.

You swallow hard and look up. Your eyes haven't nearly adjusted to the dark again, so you can't see him. But you know it's not Sam. You'd recognize Sam's touch immediately. And no, it isn't Dean either. Dean's... smoother. His skin is softer – you know that now. The whiskey on his breath is not as heavy. No. The man holding you so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body is none other than John Winchester.

You steady yourself, slightly trying to move away from him, but his grasp on you is firm. He's got one hand around your shoulders, the other on your waist, on that exact spot that is a little too high up to be indecent and just low enough to make a current go through your body. And you feel his rough hand on your skin because that damn shirt just had to ride up again.

"Are you okay?", he asks, finally loosening his grip. Still holding you, but gentler. As if he was scared he could crush you. He lets you go after a few seconds but stays impossibly close to you. You immediately feel the ghost of his touch where his fingers were, but you pull yourself together.

You nod. "I was just... I just had to pee. Sorry I ran into you, Mr. Winchester," you say, and the voice in your head adds a raging why does nobody in this family turn on the lights?!

"Don't be sorry. I've had run-ins way worse than this." You think you can hear a smile in his voice, but again, with him, you're just not sure. "And please, call me John."

You clear your throat. "Did you... did you do what you needed to do?" As your eyes keep adapting, you think you can see him raising his eyebrows.  "You said earlier that you needed to go out. Was it a work thing?"

He straightens up. "Yeah", he slowly says, perceivably choosing his words carefully, "I took care of it." You make a mental note about him evading the work part of the question.

"Good. Uhm. I think I should get back to bed before I wake any more Winchesters." John chuckles. It's a low, rumbling sound, and you're not sure he's only chuckling about what you just said.

"We sure are a bunch of light sleepers," he says. He reaches out, putting his heavy hand on your shoulder blade. "Good night then." There's that electric feeling again. He looks you deep in the eyes, an unmistakable look of desire on his face. Now you can even see it in the dark. His hand runs down over your back, pulling you into him the slightest bit, following the curve of your body. You think you feel his fingers fanning out when his hand reaches your ass, and a light squeeze, and then he pushes past you, leaving you standing in the hallway.

You stand there for a moment, rooted to the spot. You feel your heart beating, and you feel... wet.

You close your eyes to steady your breathing, memorizing all the places you've felt John on your body. The smell of the whiskey is still lingering in the air, and it leaves you dizzy. Dizzy in a way that makes you want to touch yourself. Makes you want him to touch you. More. Just a little more. It makes you want his calloused hands ghosting over your plump skin, cupping your breasts, his fingers between your legs while he presses you up against the wall. Claims you.

You shiver. You then remember that you're not actually glued to the spot, shake yourself out of it and make your way back to the bedroom. Sam's bedroom. Your boyfriend Sam's bedroom.

You quietly slip in, close the door behind you. You hurry under the sheets and cuddle up to your human radiator, Sam having at some point shifted, now lying on his side. You press your face into his chest, breathe in his scent and warmth to ground yourself when you feel his hand caressing your head.

"Everything okay?", he asks, voice gravelly from sleep. You nod, kiss him. "Yeah. All good. All peachy."

Sam huffs, his hand now tracing over your arm. You run your hand over his chest, down his abs, still trying to figure out what just happened. With John. And Dean. You land on the elastic band of his briefs, and without thinking, your finger hooks into it. You pull it slightly toward you, and then your hand is inside of Sam's underwear, finding his already half hard cock.

His breathing staggers for a second.

You're not sure what got you so riled up. You love Sam. And you're pretty sure he loves you. You're his place of worship, with you, he can let his guard down, he knows you'll always be there to catch him when he falls. You two belong together, like PB and J, but that right there, what you felt in the kitchen, and in the hallway... that wasn't about love. That was about sex.

You start pumping your fist around him.

There was a moment at dinner, when you had gotten up to clean the saucy mess Sam had made, when you had felt like a gazelle walking into the middle of a lions' den. You had felt three pairs of eyes burning on your skin, three sets of claws itching to grab and devour you. And you'd liked it.

Sam looks down at the motion of your hand.

It made you feel seen. And desirable. And vulnerable. In a good way, because you know Sam's there. He'll always be there to catch you when you fall.

You slide down on the bed, pulling down his boxers and unceremoniously taking his dick in your mouth.

You let out a low, sultry moan at the sensation. Your head bobs up and down a couple of times, your eyes fluttering shut at his taste on your tongue.

Sam gasps. "You're going to wake up Dean and my dad."

"Don't worry. They're up already," you say as you let him slip out of your mouth with a wet plop. You push at his hips so he's lying flat on his back.

Sam raises his eyebrows as he's reaching for a condom while you strip down your panties. "...they are?"

"They're wandering around the house. Saw both of them a minute ago." You snatch the packet from his hand, rip it open and start rolling the rubber down on his length. A second later you're on him, the mattress squeaking, dipping under your weight.

Sam's grinning, aligning himself with you, and then he's inside you. There's next to no resistance because of how wet you already are, and you moan sensually as your body adjusts to his size. "Then we probably should be a little less..."

"No. I don't care who hears us." You start rolling your hips, the feeling of fullness making your head spin. You grind yourself down on him, trying to reach that spot that you know will get you where you want to go.

But Sam's not having it. He grabs your hips firmly, and then, without slipping out of you, turns you on your back. The bed creaks loudly. It makes you squeal. "You know... I don't think that's it. That you don't care. I think you actually want them to hear you."

"Maybe I do." You look up at him, licking your lips, writhing under his touch. Sam's towering over you, a hungry look on his face. He pulls out a few inches, so that only his tip is still inside you, before pushing back into you. A huffed moan escapes your lips.

You arch your back, one of his hands snakes under you, pulling you close while he holds himself up with the other next to your head. You can still see the faint bite mark you left there earlier. "Naughty. You want them to catch us?"

"I do," you blissfully sigh, entangling one of your hands in the soft hair at the back of his neck. His hips start snapping against you harder, faster. It makes you gasp.

His head dips to kiss your jaw. He's found a steady rhythm that you know isn't going to give you much time before you come. You can already feel the orgasm looming over you.

"You want them to come in here? See you like this? All riled up, ready to fall apart?"

You nod needily. Whimper. He continues slamming into you.

"You want them to watch while I tear you apart? Maybe even have a go at you themselves?"

You hear yourself sharply inhaling. It's like an out-of-body experience.

That last sentence, combined with Sam fucking you rough like that, does it for you. You let go, and you're loud. There is no way anyone in this house, awake or asleep, can not hear the moan you produce when the orgasm crashes over you. You feel like there's fire coursing through your veins, it's so intense it almost hurts. Sam's right behind you, he continues to push into you for a couple more thrusts and then comes undone, grunting loudly.

He drops down on you, panting heavily as he slips out of you. The clothes you had no time to shed are damp, sticking to your bodies. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You twitch a little as his hair tickles your nose. You both lie there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. After a while, Sam pushes himself back up on his arms, a cheeky grin on his face.

You put your hands over your eyes. "What... was that?" , you whisper, suddenly very aware of how loud you probably were a couple of minutes ago.

Sam chuckles. "I don't know. I guess we just discovered a new kink of yours. Was kinda hot."

He gently peels your hands away from your face. You blink, biting your lip. Sam's looking at you, his lips slightly parted, smiling at you.

"You look so beautiful," he softly says.

Your heart almost bursts at his words. So simple, but so earnest.

You reach up to cup his cheek, running your thumb over his warm skin. This man... he's just everything for you. Your whole world.

"I love you, Sam."

He doesn't respond immediately, but even in the faint glow of his alarm clock you can see the joy in his eyes before he pulls you in for a kiss.

[rosesonbreeze]

"I love your hands." It goes without saying, but Anna says it anyway. If the last hour is any indication, (apart from the fact they start up fast, but they certainly don't finish fast. Well, Aiden doesn't), Aiden's hands are perfect. "But this English weather is so dry." No matter how well they fight against the dreaded, Winter dryness with every balm and handy humidifier in sight.

Clearly, the excitement of the day has her on another dimension, because Anna's big eyes snap at Aiden in scandal. Did he just -- No, false alarm. With a breath, she cracks a laugh. "Christ, imagine if I did taste like chocolates there." Aiden may adore her enough to ignore it. But her physician or her wax technician? "Anna Ricci and the Chocolate Factory." She imagines out loud, a goofy look on her face. She could read the headlines now..

The hot water is great against her skin, but made perfect when Aiden joins her. Despite the charm of the cottage, the refurbished bathroom is spacious and comfortable. A rainhead showerhead and a number of jets never either of them cold, waiting for a turn. "Mhm, yeah. Wash off the petting zoo smell." Which, luckily, Aiden finds a solution for in the soap. Better to smell like a dining table than a sassy sheep.

"What step in your hair care routine are we doing tonight?" Everyone has their own system, but Aiden's is one she's learning to keep up with. With his different combs and balms, Anna notices a rhythm, because of course there's a method to looking like he does. Less vanity, and more Aiden's precise approach.

She dunks her head backwards, letting the water rush through her hair. With a breathy sigh, Anna wordlessly takes the towel from his hand. Her hands brushing along his muscles, admiring her work with a lingering eye. Thank God they let go of respect (at least, in this sense). "Shampoo?" A nod to her lavender honey.

‘Up,’ she says, and he’s only too pleased to oblige. Call it foolish if you will, two adults piggybacking their way across their home to their bathroom, but it's merely the way that Anna and Aiden exist, together through the most unconventional of ways. He can feel her heartbeat flush against his back, and that, in turn, sets the rhythm of his. Little things like that.

"Would I want my hands to feel like baby butt?" It's a serious concern to consider, once his are free. He even holds them up before him and stares down at the lines on his palm. He has a few callouses here and there, to be expected with his typical regimen, but they've never been a bother to Anna, so he's probably clear there. The sound of the water pulls him back to reality.

“You were already tasting like chocolate.” Okay. Sort of reality. He taps his lip and clarifies, “Up here, I mean,” because her other flavor is a whole different kind of satisfying, the kind that has him humming in dreamy fondness.

While she busies herself with ensuring the shower is the perfect space, Aiden ensures that all of their other essentials are ready: towels set on the heating rack, a bottle of toothpaste to replace the one they'd squeezed to oblivion, a new tub of moisturizer because this will not be the household of ashy anything, especially elbows.

Once all is set, he joins in, practically gliding into his place and welcoming the warm water on his skin. "Were you planning on washing your hair tonight?" It's the most recent development, him learning all about how she keeps those locks lush and camera-ready. He's still in the early stages of this very informal apprenticeship, but it's also coming to be one of his favorite parts of their shared everything. Before any of that, however, he runs a damp hand down her side and hums. "You know? It kinda smells like the dining room?" After she moved her 'flowers' into their vase, and before they tested the limitations of their table.

[oh-no-its-bird]

I cannot lie to u guys. A big motivator driving me to write the Shang Qinghua in Naruto fic (and specifically to finish it) is that I so desperately need to see one very specific scene of Houhua somehow getting zapped into canon

I genuinely don't remember if I've posted about this yet or only written it out in my notes app but like .

Houhua's gets into a fight and his mangekyou (relating to time shit and directly connected to the 'real' naruto universe via the system) kind of smashes into Obito's mangekyou (dimension travel shit) and also possibly even into Sasuke's own (idk whether he has the rinnegan or not in this au / at that point, but he's also there, and if he does have it, it'd also pitch in w time and dimension)

And basically, all three of them get tossed face first into canon naruto for a bit! I'm sure this can't possibly go wrong.

They get scattered across fire country ,,, They were originally fighting in some 3rd location and Houhua lands back inside of Konoha, and assumes (logically) he just got regular teleported and not hit with the fucking dimension travel beam.

So, yk, he goes 'oh FUCK I lost Sasuke' and goes straight for the Hokage tower to tell Tsunade what happened, bc

a) last uchiha(s),

and b) they were quite possibly specifically sent out on some mission together by her when it was crashed by Obito

Maybe they were going to try and hunt down Itachi ?? Sharingan vs sharingan,,,, idk but if they were then Itachi is also probably around here somewhere due to the dimension zap. No one ask me the specifics I have no idea yet, this would be so down the line in the story

But anyways. Just. Houhua bursting into the Hokage's office then immediately bursting into tears and wailing smthn ab having "lost Sasuke" to a very confused Tsunade and very alarmed team of ANBU agents

More realistically, he'd never be able to make it up into the Hokage's office, so like. Houhua being stopped (by people he knows !! that no longer seem to know him !!) at the doors as he is confused and angry bc WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS HE HAS TO REPORT IN LIKE YESTERDAY !!! THEY HAVE AN EMERGENCY ON THEIR HANDS !!!

Houhua accidentally manages to bullshit his way into the Hokage's office by just acting so confident (bc ofc he is! He fr thinks he's supposed to be allowed to be here!) and also jabbing his finger into an ANBU's face and calling them out by code name like he knows exactly who they are, going SPARROW U ARE NOT DOING THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW !! THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS SHIT !!!

Maybe he throws in Itachi's name somewhere in there if the mission he was sent on involved trying to hunt him down

Either way, the ANBU are successfully convinced (and confused) that this guy... must belong here? Is he some higher up? Was he undercover? They dont know but he sure does know them and is acting like everything is ok, so...?

I just need Houhua interacting with canon tbh, au x canon is my favorite thing ever, in the entire world. He deserves to get zapped into naruto canon w Sasuke for a while !!

Meanwhile, Obito is now in an alternate world close enough to the one he left that he doesn't really care (Houhua's existence has not impacted him much tbh) but like. No consequences. Obito doesn't have to worry ab his plans here bc this isn't his world so nothing really matters. But it's still similar enough that the people (read: Kakashi) he might interact with are basically the same to him

So anyways Obito goes to give Kakashi some special 1 on 1 harassment. Could literally go in any direction tbh

Obito probably appears in his room like a little freak and just starts fucking w Kakashi as Kakashi goes through the "who are you how did you get in here" routine (while slowly sliding into an "oh god its Obito" realization fueled panic attack the longer the conversation goes on)

In true Obito fashion, Obito mood swings like no one has ever mood swings before, alternating between making some serious threats to saying straight up creeper shit he'd probably never even voice aloud in his original world

But he can say them all here because there are no consequences, and he wont even have to look himself in the mirror later when he goes home and itll all be fine :DD

Kakashi is having a straight up bad time.

Meanwhile Itachi is just having. A time.

He probably goes back to the Akatsuki only to be faced to face with HIMSELF and immediately checks tf out of just. All of this. He is dissasociating.

The Itachi's haaateeee each other btw, pure self-loathing directed at eachother in such a passive aggressive way. It's very telling, actually.

It would be incredibly uncomfortable for anyone to watch but most of the Akatsuki (Deidara and Hidan especially) are watching with rapt attention while shoveling popcorn into their mouths. Deidara is especially delighted to see that even Itachi himself can't fucking stand another version of him

(As if Deidara could last 1 minutes alone in a room with another him without trying to blow each other up)

Eventually ofc they realize the root of the differences between their worlds (Houhua) tho I think the first real difference they'd note would actually be Jun's existence-- just because he's the easier topic between them, since he's occasionally partnered with (our) Itachi

Idk how they bring up Houhua but like, once he's prought up, (canon) Itachi would be like "Who?" in just the flattest voice as (our) Itachi has a little episode of 'oh. he doesnt exist here.'

Itachi having to describe Houhua to someone else,, but that someone else is himself so he finds himself being more honest than he might have otherwise been w literally anyone else,,, ough,,

(canon) Itachi has Izumi, and mmmayyybe they'll realize that they're just gender bent versions of each other (kind of, anyways) but I kind of doubt it. Either way, thatll be a fun conversation to have

Even more fun of a conversation is the inevitable Sasuke conversation, which I do not even know where to begin with

WHICH ALSO BRINGS US TO SASUKE. WHO IS OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. IDK WHAT HES DOING BUT MAN IS HE LOST.

Sasuke's part of this arc could go in a lot of directions depending on if he defected from the village or not (still undecided on that but for now lets say he isnt, since Tsunade sent him on that hypothetical mission w Houhua)

Just. A slightly healthier and more stable and sane Sasuke who was raised by Houhua after the massacre. Ok and now throw him at his canon counterpart. I think they would also dislike eachother

Canon Sasuke probably burns with envy at the knowledge that this Sasuke got to keep one of their clansmen, and that Houhua helps to shoulder the burden of revenge. But he also has scorn for the fact that Houhua has seemingly "held him back" from revenge or some shit. Not entirely to mask his jealously, tbh

Idk but like, Sasuke vs Sasuke. It's a mess.

Don't let Naruto meet the Sasuke who never left Konoha / possibly came back or he'll lose his mind ab it

Anyways yeah !!! Houhua au meets canon ,,, I need it so bad,,, fuck,,

[panharmonium]

i am not usually interested in dramatically canon-divergent scenarios because the canon story is what compels me, but i've been obsessed with this moment ever since i re-heard it during my second viewing. from the perspective of someone who already finished the story once and now knows the truth - this was wild.

WHAT IF?

[pa-pa-plasma]

Wait what do you mean healthy people dont loaf??? It's so comfy why wouldn't they do that?

I'm saying this as someone with hypermobility which is, I'm sure, completely unrelated to why I think this./s

people are so weird, what do you mean "i wish humans could loaf"? this is so easy! heehee

[kingdomoftyto]

...BIG FEELS AND BIG PLOT DEVELOPMENTS AT THE END OF THAT BOOK, HUH

[constellationcrowned]

((All signs point to Kariom being a lot like Serban in his youth. Was he a stern kid? Yes. Grumpy? Yes. But he also had fun and was mischievous. He made pinwheels, he wanted to fly kites, he drew and colored in one of Flynn's gardening books (he drew constellations ofc but no doubt other things too) he ate so many cattails by the lake he almost choked to death, he ran around and got into trouble, he tried to make friends, and so on.

It's important to remember that he was a kid and he wasn't always so obsessively driven by his duty---and I mean driven to the point of where he, as an adult, considers all of that stuff as stupid, inconsequential, etc, and prefers not to think on it, driven to the point of self degradation (whether he acknowledges it or not and let's face it; he doesn't), etc, etc---such a severe reaction has to have a cause. Something changed him, something shifted his focus and it was definitely something huge. I imagine it's in part due to whatever happened to the Solomonari and his involvement on top of a variety of other things that built up over time until he could hold nothing else.))

[ailithnight]

Danny, instinctively feeling someone messing with his grave, but not understanding that feeling: Gosh, why do I suddenly feel so angry, grieved, restless, and moody? Is this puberty? Ghost puberty? I feel like I should go haunt the police department about it.

“Hello, Mr. Wayne. I’m calling on behalf of the Amity Park police department. I… god, there’s no easy way to say this. We found a dead body, and genetic tests identified you as the next of kin.”

A mixture of icy fear and confusion pooled in Bruce’s chest, and he felt himself lean against a wall for support. “What? Who? But, Damian was just here!”

“Don’t worry, it’s not him.”

“He’s the only blood relative I have.”

The officer sighed. “I dunno what to tell you. We don’t know. Kid was dead for months before we dug ‘im up, so identifying any other details towards his previous identity has been… difficult. Doesn’t even match any missing persons reports. Quite frankly, we were hoping you’d know something, ‘cause we’ve been coming up blank.”

“I will,” Bruce rushed out unthinkingly, his mind still caught up on the word ‘kid’.

“What?”

“I’ll help however I can. Amity Park, you said? Where is that? I’ll book a flight right away."

“No, really, sir. I appreciate it, but you don’t need to do that. No offense, Mr Wayne, but you’re not a forensic analyst.”

The words ‘yes I am’ balanced on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them. Batman was the detective, not Brucie Wayne. But Batman didn’t have any reason to travel so far afield to investigate a single dead kid, so Bruce Wayne would have to do.

“I at least want to take a look.”

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[tobiasdrake]

Like, getting political for a moment. A thing a lot of people need to understand is that, ultimately, rules only exist if they are enforceable. The mechanism of enforcement is what determines the realness of a rule.

If you're playing Monopoly and you decide that being in Jail sucks so you move your piece to Go and call it a tunneling loophole, there's nothing built into the game to actually stop you from doing that. Other players yelling at you and banishing you from the table is how the rule is enforced. But if they don't, if they let you do that, then I'm sorry but that's just how the game is played now. If you're allowed to do it then it's not against the rules.

We all instinctively understand that when you're running track, you're not supposed to cross the lines into someone else's lane. But the lines are not a wall. They're not physically preventing you from doing anything. If you decide you want to run into the lane to your right and jump-kick the other racer, you physically can do that.

The line on the ground is a social construct. It's part of the magic circle; A thing that takes on special meaning, even psychological power, so long as we exist within its play space. But it's not real, and it only has power if somebody comes over and drags you off the field for striking that other racer.

At the highest echelons of power, a lot of what "can" and "can't" be done are actually just the boundaries of a magic circle with few real enforcement mechanisms. The President can't do that. But. Like. Who's going to stop him if he does?

The biggest thing we learned during the Trump Presidency was just how many restrictions on government power are illusory. Trump spent his four years in office testing the limits of what he can and can't do. Stepping over the lines of the magic circle to see which ones had enforcement mechanisms and which were merely decorative. And revealing that an alarming number were decorative.

Because the thing about the highest offices, about POTUS and SCOTUS and Congress, is that they're the highest offices. There's nobody above them. The only check on their power is each other and, contrary to what high school social studies might tell you, those checks aren't very strong at all.

Trump wants to redefine the game rules to be dictatorial. The magic circle says he can't do that. But the only factor that truly decides whether he can or can't is whether the other players at the table will let him do it. And if you listen to the way Republican Congressmen talk, it's not reassuring.

There are no executive super-cops who will arrest Trump if he breaks the rules. The Avengers are not going to show up and stop him from continuing to reconfigure the magic circle to his liking. The only thing, the only true restriction on his power, is the vote. It's the fact that we, as a population, get to make a choice as to whether or not he even gets to sit back down at the table to play again at all.

In a democracy, voters are the enforcement mechanism. Let's try and remember that when November comes around.

[endursent]

My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (2)

【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】

【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】

【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】

【 note; made the genshin version... no reason for this to be like 19 pages 😭 】

【 word count; 8.723 | read on ao3 | hsr ver | hsr reader ver | gi reader ver 】

Alhaitham ;

Kaveh gaped at you when you brought a cat into the house, one that… looked eerily similar to a certain blockhead. “I can explain,” you say as you set the cat down on the floor, he doesn’t enter the house further than you do, instead sitting down by your feet and observing the interaction with… interest? Amusement…? 

  Kaveh didn’t need much to be convinced, and immediately he thanked the Archons for giving him a few days of respite. Even just a few days of Alhaitham being unable to comment on what he does or nag him is a blessing.

  For you, it’s a bit of a hassle… because he keeps disappearing! Not in an alarming way, because you find him again in the most secluded, quiet spots you would never even think of. Under your laundry, in an empty box that Kaveh hadn’t put away after getting a delivery, and even under the desk in the study—Kaveh accidentally kicked him and got a feisty scratch on his ankle. He learned his lesson. 

  He follows you around and—though he let you pick him up the first time—doesn’t let you carry him around, preferring to walk on his own… and wander off to explore nooks and crannies he has never been able to see, but he always shows up again before you reach your destination. 

  He has also claimed your pillow as his own and refuses to let you use it, loafing on top of it exactly when you thought you could get there before him. Which… in hindsight is fine, you’re not opposed to using his pillow, it smells like him after all. 

  You decided to test how much of a cat he really is, whether it’s appearance alone or instinctual as well and bought a cat toy with a whisker on the end as well as a small bell below it. You expected him to perk up and try to whack or catch it as soon as you wriggled it beside him… but his grey furred ears just lowered in annoyance and he hopped off the kitchen counter, it seems like having even more sensitive ears in this state makes his dislike for uncomfortable noises more intense. 

  He forgave you when you spent ten minutes scratching the itchy spot behind his ears after tracking him down. A small, rumbling purr left his chest as you moved your hand to scratch under his chin—he was, however, more curious about this instinctual reaction and demanded you continue after you drew your hand back.     Despite it being very much an unspoken rule between the two of you that neither of you should be disturbed ‘needlessly’ when reading or working at home, when you borrowed a few books from the Akademiya to try and figure out how to turn your partner back to normal, Alhaitham decided it would be very reasonable for him to lay down over your book… which you are very much trying to read.

  But when you ask him what he needs, he just blinks at you three times, very slowly. You’ll likely never be able to crack that brain of his, even in a form that is somehow far more expressive.

Arataki Itto ;

It’s difficult enough to keep track of him—and keep him out of trouble—on a normal day… now? You took your eyes off him for a second, and he’s gone. Shinobu split up with you to cover more ground while the rest of the gang scoured the streets of Inazuma City, at least as much as they could.

  You peek between baskets, crates and stalls, walk through tight alleys and even squint into a few windows… nothing!

  You had been very close to giving up and returning back to the meeting point by the bridge… until you heard a very distressed, very loud meowing. Following the sound, you come to a tree stretching over the gardens of a teahouse. What looks to be the owner of it stands below the tree with a basket, trying to ask Itto—stuck up on a wobbling branch—to jump into it.

  Exasperation is one way to describe what you feel as you approach the old lady, you put your hands on your hips and Itto notices you immediately. His meowing turns from frantic and panicked… to a sheepish pleading. Every movement he makes causes the branch to sway and wobble, and it looks like it could easily bend and break—and you don’t want to cause any trouble for the teahouse owner. “Itto, come on, hop down.”

  He meows and shakes his head, white fur swishing dramatically. 

  A sigh leaves you as you step closer and hold your arms open. “I’ll catch you, trust me,” you encourage him… and he finally relents, with wobbling paws, he leaps from the branch—fur shining in the sun as he practically flies in the air towards your open arms… and lands on your head. He panics and tries to adjust and not fall off, and you try to pry him away from your face as his belly nearly suffocates you—it’s a scene from a comedic play.

  Shinobu is glad for her mask, because when you return with Itto under your arm you have scratches on your face and forehead, and Itto is whining and meowing sorrowfully. 

  He spends the entire evening licking your ‘wounds’, dragging his coarse cat tongue over every spot so often that the licking starts to become more painful than the scratches themselves. But you let him, it makes him feel much better than you—and you don’t particularly need comfort, but if he doesn’t get it, he will whine all night. 

  So you let him knead your thighs and stomach even as his claws prick through your clothes and you make sure to pet him and stroke his fur when he snuggles against you… and then you wake up in the middle of the night, suffocating with his furred belly against your face when the lies on top of you.

Baizhu ;

You’re very happy that Baizhu is catching a break—something you often try to convince him to do—despite the strange way of being forced into it… however, it’s very difficult to focus on running the pharmacy in his place by yourself while also trying to make sure he doesn’t roll off the shelf he’s napping on… especially because Changsheng wriggles in her sleep and keeps nudging him closer to the edge.

  You decide it’s easier if you have them sleeping on separate surfaces and reach up to pick up your pliant partner-turned-cat. He effectively falls into your arms and blinks lazily, slightly confused by the sudden transport. “Just moving you so you don’t hit your head,” you dodge around Qiqi as she runs past you with an armful of jars and set Baizhu down on the counter, his tail sways lazily and he immediately flops on his side as a beam of sunlight sneaks through the window and directly onto his fur.

  Every time a customer comes by—with approval—they give Baizhu a small pet or scratch before leaving, as if paying tribute to the good doctor. He doesn’t seem to mind.

  Unfortunately, you’re not fit to take Baizhu’s place for consultations, and thus they all get delayed—which was a hell of a lot of work to contact everyone and change scheduling—until Baizhu is back to normal. The usual hours of consultation in the morning are therefore replaced with longer opening hours of the pharmacy and by pulling some strings, an increased stock of rarer products at a discounted price. 

  Changsheng does not let poor Baizhu catch a break, she wiggles her tail and swipes it in front of his paws, and unable to control the feline instincts harbouring his body—Baizhu chases after her tail like a kitten playing with a toy. He whacks at it and tries to capture it, but the white snake is far quicker than even you expected her to be as a sudden game of cat and mouse (snake) takes over your living room.

 The feline form, however, doesn’t come with free stamina—and Baizhu is not in good shape. He flops down on the carpet, exhausted from the play even as only seven minutes have passed. You feel a bit bad and scoop him up for some cuddling, which seems to be just the remedy he needed. 

  Baizhu is very careful around the clinic, he doesn’t knock anything over—even though he REALLY wants to sometimes, and is mindful of not getting fur or saliva on anything that could potentially be consumed by anyone with allergies. Changsheng has taken to wrapping herself around your shoulders instead, and though you’re used to her, it’s a little annoying to get a comment on every little thing you do. 

  But at the end of the day, Baizhu curls up next to you and you wake with him lying over your chest, belly to the skies and paws in the air, comfortable and content. Though you will always prefer him in his normal state, he is very cute like this.

Cyno ;

You look around the large front hall of the House of Daena, panting slightly as you try to catch your breath… that damn Cyno! Making you chase him across the entire city! 

  You spot some pawprints and squint as you look around… he’s not bringing all that dirt into the house—you were just going to rinse him a bit, but he’s run off! You finally spot dark and creamy coloured fur… perched up high on a massive decorative piece of the wall. He looks down at you with a swaying tail, completely at ease knowing that you won’t be able to catch him all the way up there.

  You almost consider inquiring about one of those massive ladders the library has to reach the high shelves, it might be long enough…

  But very well, he wins this round. 

  Once he turned into a cat, you were very excited about petting him, rubbing his ears and stroking his tail—but he’s not having any of it. Sometimes, you wonder if someone stuck a firework in his ass and lit it up, because the bouts of zoomies he gets is so frequent you wondered if there was something wrong—but you couldn’t catch him to take to a vet either! 

  After the first few days, Cyno seems to calm down… a little. He still prefers to survey the area (your living room) from above (your bookshelf) and watch you go about your day. It’s quite cute how his perked ears twitch every time you make a noise, as if he’s completely focused on what you’re doing.

  You soon find out after stepping a bit too close to the bookshelf that he might have just been waiting to strike, because he leaps onto your head as soon as you’re in range. 

  The only reason you know he’s fully conscious in that furred head is because while you were cleaning up after dinner, you spotted him sitting next to a cup of tea that was half-filled. You tense as you watch his paw raise to knock it off. “Cyno! Don’t,” you try to sound scolding.

  He looks up at you, he lowers his paw… then raises it again, making you glare at him. He lowers it again, turns away… you turn back to wiping the dishes and look over your shoulders after a few seconds—his paw is raised again!

  This back and forth continued until he finally knocked it over.

  And then he has the audacity during the next day’s dinner to sound like he has never been fed in his life while you’re trying to eat in peace. Meowing at you so loudly one would think he was terribly injured, eyes wide and mouth open. You hope your neighbours don’t think you’re trying to starve him, or treat him horribly.

Dainsleif ;

He’s not happy about it, he has things to do—places to be and investigations to make. Thankfully you’re familiar with where you were going next… but Dainsleif is very limited in what he can do. You decide to give him the task of scouting and sneaking around, something he’s used to doing anyway… but he finds that it’s much more effective to do so as a cat. His footsteps are completely silent and his senses are much sharper.

  Though, he had an instinctual need to swat at a glowing orb that you found in a strange vault half-buried in a cave in Fontaine before he could stop himself—which closed the two of you inside the vault. Thankfully he is now small enough that he could slip out between the bars and unlock it from the other side.

  It is quite cute how his ears flattened as you walked out, as if he was sorry. Though he seemed okay after you scratched behind his ears and assured him it was okay, he was here to help you out after all! His tail swayed in satisfaction to your assurance.

  You start to set down camp for the night, having just one pair of hands makes it a bit more of a lengthy process, and Dainsleif can only sit and watch as you put it together. He’s usually quite distant, even in a relationship—but as you straighten from squatting to fit something down, you feel something press against your leg and see him rubbing his furry cheek against you, then walking around your legs, tail trailing behind.

  He’s usually quite wary and alert, even during the night when you try and convince him to sleep—and it’s no different now. He sits poised and ready… for what? He’s a cat. But you appreciate the effort. 

  Surprisingly, he’s very active at grooming himself, the two of you usually have to bathe often anyway as you frequent dusty caves and muddy backwaters, but every time you make a stop, he sits down and starts licking his fur—at first you wondered if he was frustrated by something or had hurt himself, but as you picked him up to examine for any injuries or strange patches, he just blinked at you, tongue still half-hanging out.

  Dainsleif is rather laid-back when it comes to your relationship, there are times where you want to stay in a larger city for a few days or weeks in between travels, to have a soft bed and four walls around you—which Dainsleif doesn’t mind, there are places he wants to look into where he’d prefer you are safe elsewhere. He knows where you will be and will stop by to ask if you’re ready to continue days or even sometimes a few weeks later, to which you—recharged and rejuvenated—jump at the chance to follow him out of the city.

  But now, as a cat, he doesn’t leave your side for a minute—not even when you need to use nature’s bathroom. You went into a small village in Sumeru when passing through and a vendor was particularly pressing about selling you some type of perfume that you had shown brief interest in—Dainsleif had enough of you being pestered and whacked his paw at the man’s leg, hissing. He would usually be more subtle about guiding you away, but he doesn’t have the presence he usually does as he is now, so he must utilise the aggressiveness given to him in feline form. You take the chance to scoop him up and hurry away before the vendor can get upset, petting between his ears and thanking him for the help—he rubs his cheek against yours. He’s surprisingly more affectionate like this as well.

Diluc ;

Your nose itches… you try to hold back—achoo!!

  Diluc jumps, claws scuttling against the ground and he leaps from his resting spot and hops down to the floor. You sniffle and shake your head. “Sorry, it’s not your fault,” you stand from his chair and round the table to squat down next to him, reaching a hand out. “Did I startle you?”

  He makes a ‘hmph’ sound, fur red as freshly bloomed roses. Diluc bumps his snout into your palm and huffs into it, you turn your hand and pet along his back. “Aaah… you’re so cute~ so soft,” you near coo as you scratch behind his ears—

  Diluc shakes himself and ducks under your hand to walk past you—how dare you baby-talk him?! He’s not an actual cat! The scritches felt too nice, and his ears flicked when you cooed at him—it’s embarrassing…

  He sits down by the door, tail swaying lazily as a small meow leaves him. Let me out. 

  You pout, how can you not convey how cute he is? You want to rub his cheeks. But fine, you  walk over and open the door for him to slip out of. 

  Diluc likes the lounge around the fireplace in the estate, there’s not much work he can do  while you try to figure out how to turn him back—preferably without alerting his brother or any of the knights… or just anyone in general. Unfortunately, he can’t hide it from the staff of the Winery as he is a spitting image of himself in cat form, and you’ve caught more than three people trying to feed him expensive cheeses. 

  It’s only in the recent days that you’ve convinced him to settle down and use the time to rest and nap as much as he can, but Diluc was extremely restless at first, you had to trap him inside a room and trick him into lying down with you.

  One day, Jean came by looking for him, and you had to think fast to come up with an excuse while he had just leapt under the sofa to hide. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to need him urgently, so she just left a message behind and went back to her day.

  You fell asleep in Diluc’s study, trying to keep up with his paperwork—Adeline offered to help you, she’s very familiar with his work, and it’s not like it’s been a long time since he wasn’t there to do it… but you wanted to help, and as the sun sank below the horizon, you laid down on the sofa in his study next to a tall bookcase—only closing your eyes was enough to pull you into deep sleep.

  Diluc hops onto the sofa next to you, he carefully walks over your thighs and settles on the armrest where your head is. His fluffy tail sways and strokes your chin and nose—nearly waking you as you almost sneeze, you don’t have to work so hard for him, he knows you want to help. He wishes he could tell you, and he will, when he’s back to normal. For now, he rests alongside you, head leaning against the top of yours and tail tucked against your neck.

Kaedehara Kazuha ;

Kazuha is a very chill cat, he doesn’t get into trouble, he doesn’t cough hairballs on the floor and he doesn’t knock things over.

  (Instead of coughing hairballs on the floor he swats them off-deck with his paws, Beidou caught him doing it once).

  There’s not much trouble to get into on the ocean, and he’s rather good at keeping out of trouble overall on land, sticking by his side is a sureway to a boring day of exploration or lounging around—which is your perfect type of day.

  You help him into your bag as the Crux ‘boards’ by Liyue Harbour (it stops a bit away and tucked by a cliffside to avoid attention) and you make sure he doesn’t accidentally fall into the ocean as a few crewmates row to land. You’re stopping for a few days, so you make sure to use the time to relax and take in landside air and wander around the expansive Harbour. 

  Kazuha likes to take life at a slower pace, and thus your walk to the Harbour took longer than you expected… as you thought Kazuha was doing his normal meditation on a warm, sun-kissed rock along the road…

  But he was asleep, sitting up and enjoying the sun. It took you thirty minutes to realise—a sitting cat with its eyes closed and a sleeping cat in a sitting position is the exact same.

  He very much likes to people-watch, but in this cat form, he seems even more engaged—he can hear sounds more clearly and he seems even more perceptive than usual. Watching a tea maker brew a cup on a teahouse table you had sat by to rest and ordered some snacks. He sniffs at the tea as it’s placed in front of you—he’s perched comfortably on your lap, you’re surprised the teahouse even allows him inside—and seems to appreciate the detail he gets from this new perspective, af if it smells different in this form.

  He tries to taste it and your food, but you have to block his snout with your hand, you’re not sure if the food you were having would give him a stomach ache or not. 

On a walk on the outskirts of the city, you look back and see Kazuha carrying a stick in his mouth…?

  He’s not a dog, so you’re not entirely sure why he’s doing it, maybe cats do that too? The dogs that hang around the bridge leading to the southeast outside of Liyue Harbour try to approach him with the stick, thinking he was playing, but he hops into a tree to keep it to himself. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening, but he seems to be having fun.

  Kazuha wanders off oftentimes, just in his normal, usual body… so you’re not sure why you’re surprised when you suddenly find him missing from your side—perhaps it’s because he’s a cat and you’re unsure if he can defend himself as well in that form, but you hurry to look for him.

  You practically run in circles until you find him pressing his paw to a brown, crusty leaf… again and again, as if listening to the crunch of it in a rhythm. You sigh and scoop him up into your arms. “Don’t wander off like this,” you scold and poke his nose. Kazuha sneezes from the poke, but blinks up at you and nods his little furry head.

Kaeya ;

Unbothered, in his element. Kaeya sleeps in your windowsill and bathes in the sunlight all day while you scratch your head over how this could’ve happened. You try to leave for work and he practically screeches at the door, likely pleading you not to leave—he does that normally as well, except without the loud meowing. 

  Kaeya finds appreciation in the flexibility and grace that comes with this new body, he easily leaps up on shelves and dives under the sofa, he chases flakes of dust and seems to be having quite a good time—perhaps it’s because he has no responsibilities in this form, he can’t go to work like this and has no control over it. And the loss of control is strangely freeing. 

  You scoop him up into your arms and his tail swishes happily, he grabs his claws into your shirt and purrs as you rub his ears, happy and content with the additional affection. He loves all affection he gets from you no matter what form it takes, and being a cat has given him the opportunity to be pampered in ways he never could experience as a human. 

  He does need his free time as well and he uses it well while you’re out of the house—though you were very optimistic to think that closing the windows would keep him contained, Kaeya easily flips the handles and slips out of your home. He enjoys the attention he gets from any passersby, but is careful not to be too affectionate and get picked up by someone who thinks he’s a stray. 

  His usual guarded front lowers in this form, he feels like he could slip out of any situation—and he doesn’t have to be careful with his words or actions. No one expects a cat to have alternative intentions. 

  He jumps up in surprise as he hears footsteps rapidly approaching—he had fallen asleep on a ledge and the sun was already down. Kaeya blinks as you pick him up, breath heaving. “There you are, I’ve looked everywhere for you! I thought something happened when I couldn’t find you around the plaza,” you sigh a breath of relief and practically crush him to your chest. Kaeya wriggles a little but gives up and nuzzles into you, pushing his forehead into your cheek. 

  After a number of days, Kaeya gets bored, as fun as lounging around and being pampered it… he misses real food, and dragging you away from your work to have lunch—and holding you properly, he can only lay on top of you like this, which doesn’t exactly feel like holding.

  And Kaeya being restless… he gets whiny. 

  He would usually be more subtle, but now that he feels the rush of freedom his feline form gives him, he uses it to protest by loafing on your clothes after you fold them to put away, laying over your lap when you need to get up—even though he’s not really a cat… kind of, you still get the same feeling of not wanting to move him off no matter how much space he’s taking.

  But that’s okay, because he just has to slow blink at you and nuzzle into your hand and you forgive him, how could you not?

Kamisato Ayato ;

Ayato is an unreasonably pretty cat. His fur is soft and silky, he has this… smug kitty-smile at all times, and it makes you want to pinch his ears. He sits on your lap and peeks onto the low table inside his study as you go through paperwork. Just because he’s become a cat doesn’t mean his workload just miraculously lessens. 

  Thankfully, after a few days of trying to juggle his work—how does he do it?!—even with him by your side, albeit in a form that can’t properly communicate… Ayaka decides to lend a hand, she takes it upon herself to attend meetings and represent the clan and Commission in Ayato’s stead. Thankfully no one has questioned where he is yet.

  Or why there is a suspiciously similar cat trotting around the estate in his place. 

  You fish into a bush in the courtyard gardens, hand feeling around—until you find fur and yoink it up. Ayato blinks at you, tail swishing as he has a piece of grilled fish in his mouth that he stole from the kitchens. “You know… you can have all the fish you want—you don’t have to steal it,” you say as you lift him into your arms.

  His ears flick as you talk, but he eats the fish happily regardless. You shake your head in mild exasperation. Looks like he’s using the opportunity to engage in… more mischief than usual. Perhaps a different kind. 

  Ayato likes to use his newfound stealth and agility to his advantage… to torment you.

  You put away some laundry and turned to a shelf to fetch something—only to come face to face with Ayato’s cat-face, making you jump as he meows happily—as if happy to see you! He knows he’s just trying to startle you!

  He winds around your feet when you walk around the estate and purrs happily when you squint at him.

  Ayato knows the limits, he stops before you can lock him inside a room for the remainder of the day. His fur is so soft as you pet him and a rumbling purr leaves him, he knows it’s silly—he’s not really a cat, at least, hopefully not for long. But you keep petting and stroking him while he does. 

  He takes good care of himself on normal days, and as a cat, it’s no different—he grooms himself meticulously, though finds it rather embarrassing if you’re looking, so he tries to do it out of sight… it's very instinctual, but he also likes to feel clean and groomed. 

  You once passed the great hall and saw Thoma wriggling a toy with a bundle of feathers on it while Ayato chased it… it was pretty cute to watch, but you hurried along before either of them could notice you. 

  He hogs the futon, you don’t want to push him to the side and get pushed to the edge of the mattress yourself. Ayato doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 

Kaveh ;

Distressed, not having fun, he wants to go home.

  A series of meows in varying states of distress and confusion follow behind you as you walk, you stop and turn around, peering down at the strange cat that’s been following you around since you left the Akademiya. You were about to ask what he wants… but as you squint at the cat… doesn’t it look familiar?

  Kaveh doesn’t stop when you do, he raises on his hind legs by your feet and sinks his claws into your pants, a shrill, distressed meow leaves him.

  You reach down and pick him up, holding under his front legs as you inspect him… hm, golden fur with tints of a darker, sandy brown… those big red eyes.

  “... Kaveh?” you must be crazy, there’s no way your partner is a cat, and followed you around without you realising, but you know those eyes very well. It’s him.

  Alhaitham just stares at you like you grew three additional heads, he looks at Kaveh in your arms and then back at you. “... it looks like him, but that’s not proof enough—have you asked him to write his name?”

  You look at Kaveh and he tilts his small head to look up at you. Write his name…? He doesn’t exactly have thumbs… but Alhaitham has a good point. What if it’s just a very persistent cat? 

  Then again… where would Kaveh be? He’s usually home by this time.

  Alhaitham fetches a pen and some parchment and you put Kaveh down on the table. He tries to use his paws at first but just spills ink all over the place—but as he grabs the pen with his mouth and clumsily scribbles his signature, Alhaitham just hums while you scoop Kaveh up again, holding him up. “It is you! What happened to you, Kaveh?”

  Of course, he can’t give a proper answer, he wriggles his paws around and meows in a long dialogue—but it’s entirely incomprehensible. 

  While you and Alhaitham try to figure out how to get him back, Kaveh tries to adjust to his… predicament. He doesn’t do it with any grace, though… his leaps and jumps across furniture are miscalculated and he falls to the ground or hits his head more often than you can count.

  But your worried petting and rubbing the aching area makes him purr and nuzzle into your arms.

  He does hate the heightened senses, he jumps at the smallest noise and scuttles across the room if anything startles him—and he gets startled very easily like this.

Neuvillette ;

You call his name, looking around his office… you scratch your head, he can’t have gone far, you just left to fetch some tea for a few minutes. It’s not like he can open the door or window and slip out—why would he anyway?

  You hear a very… pathetic meow, from next to you—but there’s nothing there, just a sofa. You hear it again—under the sofa…?

  Ducking down, you see that Neuvillette is stuck, he seems to have been trying to squeeze himself under the sofa, and rounding the furniture, you see his hind legs and tail flat on the floor… it’s a bit amusing. “There, I got you,” you say soothingly as you lift the sofa up a little so he can back out. Neuvillette stands up and shakes his body.

  You squat down and smile. “How’d you get stuck under there?” you hold out your hand and he presses his head into your palm, nuzzling against your skin for comfort as you turn your hand to scratch and pet him.

  He’s not very good at resisting the instincts and temptations that come with this form—you’re unsure why he seems to struggle so much, but you try to help him as much as you can, and not laugh.

  You saw him chase a shadow, there is an ornament on the raised blinds that hang above the large window in his office. It's attached to the strings that lower and raise them and it sways slightly—casting a shadow across the floor.

  Another time he was grooming his fur and struggling, he has a thick, long coat and had to lean far back to reach the end of his fur as his tongue dragged along the hairs… causing him to roll backwards off the arm of the couch and into the pile of pillows.

  Innocent, small things that make you smile, but you’re careful that he doesn’t see it.

  He loafs over a stack of court documents as you organise his desk—might as well use the opportunity to clean up while he won’t be making a mess. He doesn’t seem satisfied with his place on the desk and stands… and spots a box on the ground, it’s stacked halfway with old documents to be taken to storage… but it also looks like the perfect spot to rest. He hops down from the desk and circles a few times on the papers to get comfortable. He wriggles a little before sitting down.

  It takes him a minute to realise that he was kneading into the paper when he hears the sound of it tearing under his claws in an instinctual need to make the bottom of the box comfortable. 

  Safe to say, he was mortified to have destroyed the top four documents, but thankfully they weren’t shredded and you managed to salvage them with some memory of what had occurred as well as piecing them together.

Tartaglia ;

You look towards the window above the kitchen counter, cold air brushes into the house as Childe enters through it—with a mouse in his mouth.

  You leap up and push the book in your hand against his face and push him straight back outside. “No! Absolutely not! Leave it outside, not in the house!!” You close the window behind him and sigh in relief, brushing stray snow into the sink. When you look up again, He’s sitting there, big eyes and ears flat against his head… but no mouse.

  Sighing, you open the window a smidge so that he can step inside, where he shakes himself and tosses flakes of melting snow all over. 

  Childe sits down, tail swaying—as if waiting for something.

  You set your haps on your hips. “What?”

  “Mrrow…” he wriggles his head, he wants a pat. 

  … fine, just because he took the mouse outside because you ‘asked’, you raise your hand to stroke his head and he tilts it to lick your palm—but you pull back. “No, you just had a wild animal in your mouth, wash your mouth!”

  What is this?? He feels like a criminal, all he did was bring you a prize… to be fair, he realised how silly it was to bring you a dead animal when you leapt up to push him back out, but it felt completely natural up until that point!

  He whines and meows for forgiveness for the rest of the night, and you do eventually ‘forgive’ him and let Chile lounge around on your lap while you pet him and continue reading.

  He picks fights with swaying curtains, chases your broom when you’re cleaning and even whacked your cup of coffee off the dinner table—spilling it everywhere. He’s a nightmare in this form, because no matter the scolding, he just stares at you with excited, large eyes and a swaying tail.

  Nothing you say gets through his head. In one ear and out the other. 

  He does not give up either, if he wants affection, he will get it one way or the other, even if he has to whine and meow endlessly, follow you around—fake a limp! You shake him a bit after he worried you and you almost went out in the middle of the evening through the snow to take him to a vet when he just wanted scritches. 

  In all fairness… this is just typical behaviour, but now he has the kitten eyes to break your self control and composure within seconds. 

Thoma ;

He tries to do his job even in cat form, using his tail to sweep, he even takes his duster into his mouth and tries to sweep on surfaces he’d usually need ladders to reach, and now he can just leap to them.

  But he also has a problem…

  He has an instinctual need to create a mess, knock things over or sit on things—when he catches himself in an act of pushing Ayaka’s discarded tea off a table, he nearly leaps away to stop himself. 

  Thankfully, everyone around him doesn't mind—and it’s a bit relieving to see that Thoma retains a sense of himself. He finds time where he would usually go into town to instead nap—and the Kamisato estate has perfect napping spots. He lies sprawled across the engawa surrounding the eastern part of the estate near the back gardens, and lets the warm beams of the sun warm his belly—only to shoot up in surprise when he hears footsteps, embarrassed to be caught lounging around. 

  Ayato sometimes plucks him away to keep on his lap for hours while he sorts through paperwork, petting and scratching behind his ears while his other hand signs documents. Thoma gets a bit restless just loafing on his lord’s lap and meows in relief when you come along to fetch him. 

  Ayaka leapt at the opportunity to sew a few accessories for him, guised under the excuse of “practise for smaller bodies” and Thoma ends up with half a wardrobe by the end of the week. 

  But he prefers to be around you, you don’t trap him on your lap (even though Ayato gives very good scritches) or make him model for three hours (even though Ayaka gave him snacks). As you work around the estate, he gets tired—curse this cat body and it’s perpetual need for napping!—and you tuck him gently into your eri*. Thoma lays nestled against your chest warmly, his body light and still as you continue your work. 

  The gardens of the Kamisato estate is a disaster zone, and after the first few days, thoma knows to avoid it. 

  He had strolled past, early in his transformation—and been startled by his own reflection in the pond he passed by, the fish swimming away in a hurry as he ran across the gardens in surprise. A second time, he had spent twelve minutes chasing a butterfly while Ayato watched with a signature smile… he will likely not let him forget it. 

  Thankfully, he’s not needed much in the gardens, and he sits perched atop a high shelf in the kitchens, his tail sways as he leans forward… very much ready to leap and steal some food—before you pluck him up and raise an eyebrow.

  His ears flatten in realisation, but you rub his cheeks and tuck him back into your clothes—grabbing some leftover pears from the dessert the kitchens were making, letting him munch on it while you get back to work. 

Venti  ;

You didn’t think Venti could become even more of an airhead on a typical day as he does when he becomes a cat. He gets distracted by the smallest things and wanders off—leading to a wild goose chase where you have to ask around for a small darkly coloured cat with blue highlights on its ears and tail—a very distinct cat!—and being pointed in every direction possible.

  Only to discover him napping in a crate full of apples in an alley you walked past at least six times just in the last fifteen minutes. 

  He is also very vocal, Venti says anything that comes to his mind… which is unfortunately nothing but meowing nonsense to your ears, but you nod along as if you understand, having a halfway conversation with the lively cat. 

  Somehow, he very much likes to play and nap like he’s being paid to do it at the same time. In one moment, he’s swatting at your clothes and trying to get to play with your fingers—which he accidentally bites and scratches in his excitement, quickly rectifying it with some licks and nuzzles—and the next, he’s passed out cold in a box or on a shelf for five hours.

  He doesn’t seem embarrassed by these new catlike instincts, such as the need to groom himself—he even starts grooming you halfway through his coat, you’re sure your skin is very much clean by the time he finally turns back to himself. 

  Unlike normal cats, who move and settle down elsewhere when the person under them gets up… Venti is not happy about being disturbed nor that you’re trying to get up, he whines and kneads on your clothes to try and get you to stay a little bit longer, giving you the best big kitten eyes he can muster.

  And damn him, it works. He knows what he’s doing. 

  You had been looking for him one morning, thinking he just wandered off again and you’d find him napping in some corner of the city… when Diluc approaches you with a sheepish looking Venti-cat, holding him by the scruff of his neck. “This yours?”

  Diluc doesn’t even seem surprised that the bard is a cat. At least he isn’t an allergy risk when he’s human-like and trying to get into his wares. 

Wanderer ;

He is very aware of himself, he knows he looks stupid (cute) and that everything he does will be looked at through the lens of a typical cat and not someone stuck in its body.

  And thus, he does all he can to be as eerie and unnatural a cat as he can be.

  He doesn’t make a single sound, no meowing, no purring, nothing. He doesn’t walk like a cat—thankfully he doesn’t walk on two legs—nor does he exhibit any of their typical behaviours.

  At least, that was the plan. 

  Every single time Wanderer catches himself doing anything that could be considered “cat-like”, such as grooming himself, chasing a loose string, or gods forbid… kneading—he will immediately stop and compose himself again.

  As opposed to some others, he absolutely hates the loss of control that follows becoming a cat. 

  He can’t write properly, he can’t communicate—and if he tries, no one but you and perhaps Nahida takes him seriously—he’s always sleepy and aware at strange times… he hates it! 

  And once when he was just trying to have some grapes for snacks—you suddenly leapt towards him to stop him, taking the bowl off the table with a relieved huff when you noticed he hadn’t swallowed any of it… after you pried the grape out of his mouth. At his hissing, you explained that cats can’t have grapes. 

  He gave you the cold fur-shoulder for at least two days. 

  You brought him out one time to get some fresh air—since he’s fully aware of himself, he shouldn’t run off and get lost, or into a dangerous situation like an indoor cat might. But when you gave some other cats around the streets of Sumeru attention, he quickly meowed in protest and whacked the other cats away. 

  It’s a bit cute… he doesn’t normally act so forthcoming, and as he bumps his head into your knee afterwards, you rub his cheeks and pinch his ears despite further protest. How cute!

Wriothesley ;

At first, you weren’t even sure if Wriothesley was just a “cat”. He’s huge*. 

  You put a bowl in front of him, filled with foods that are okay for cats to eat but also not… gross, as Wriothesley is very much aware in that cat-head of his. “C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with this, I even tasted it—it’s a bit bland ‘cause we can’t put any seasoning, but it’s food.”

  He leans down, and for a second you think that he’s going to eat it—but as his whiskers brush against the sides of the bowl, he lifts his head abruptly and swats at the bowl, clattering it to the ground—he didn’t mean to hit it at all, but also not this hard. 

  You scratch your head, you just can’t figure out why he won’t eat—you’ve tried everything!

  It took you several hours of back and forth questions and meowing to realise that it was the shape of the bowl that was the problem and not the food itself.

  On another day, you reach down to pet his soft, thick fur—only to get a static shock, it zaps your fingers and both of you jump back. You always have to be careful with petting him, as there’s always a risk of getting zapped at any time. Worst part is, it’s not even every time! It catches you off guard!

  He likes to climb and jump on the pipes that web around the fortress, getting into places he’s never even considered before—and sometimes you look around for him for hours before giving up… only to suddenly be leapt on from above by a nine kilogram heavy cat half your size, knocking you over.

  Siegwinne noticed that he had been brooding lately, he had been stuck as a cat for five days now and it was beginning to frustrate him. So she decided to soak a small blanket in tea mixed with catnip—after it was dry and she rubbed some more on it, she laid it out in his office…

  You watched him for a good long while as he rubbed against it, meowed and rolled on the blanket. It was unbearably adorable, but you eventually pulled him away after a while—worrying it might be too much.

  He’s so large that it’s almost like sleeping with a person, just a very furry one. He lies halfway over you and as you wake in the morning—he refuses to get up. You give in and relax in bed for a while… until he starts kneading your cheeks, leaving small scratches with his big paws and claws. You don’t stop him—it doesn’t hurt, he looks so focused, like he’s trying to squeeze something out of your cheeks. 

Xiao ;

He meows and wriggles in your arms, but you try your best to hold him until you reach the top of the inn—he swats at you and you finally let him go when you enter his usual reserved room. Despite being paws up when you let go of him, Xiao lands perfectly and immediately hops up to the highest vantage point in the room he could reach. 

  You don’t get him down by yourself, he only comes down willingly after a few hours when he’s calmed down and adjusted a bit to this form. You’re not entirely sure what happened, you had just been exploring a cave that was strangely entwined with a temple of sorts, when a bright light appeared behind you, and Xiao—who had been accompanying you—was suddenly a cat. A very small cat. 

  He loafs on the windowsill in the night, his tail wrapped around his paws as he peers towards the sky—at the slightest noise, his ears flicker towards it and he squints at the roads below that pass and surround the large inn. 

  He is unbothered. Firm. Stoic.

  … after getting wet under a pouring rain that persisted all day, he pretends not to be bothered by his wet fur and the uncomfortable existence he leads under this blanket of wet fur…

  But he can only pretend for so long. You turn away and pretend to busy yourself to allow him some privacy to reluctantly lick along his fur and smooth it down, trying to clean or groom it in a way that makes it less sloppy. 

  He hates it, this weird satisfaction that comes with this very primal instinct, and yet, he does still feel the satisfaction.

  Xiao is difficult to read on an average day, he’s very used to controlling his emotions and maintaining a front that’s difficult to get past.

  But as a cat… he’s an open book, he approaches you with a curled tail, he slow blinks at you when you drag your fingers through his fur as he loafs on the windowsill. 

  But he does. Not. Meow. 

  Except for that time you hauled his ass back to the inn… and when Zhongli makes a sudden appearance, he hops from his perched position and snakes around the former Archon’s legs, purring and meowing as he’s being petted and spoken to. He doesn’t notice his own behaviour…

  Not until the following night after Zhongli leaves, and Xiao is mortified that he behaved like an affection-depraved cat in front of Morax.

  Thankfully you sliding a comb through his fur and untangling some knots from the day distracts and calms him down in the evening.

Zhongli ;

At first, you weren’t even sure if Zhongli was actually aware he was a cat, he follows you around, sits on a bench and licks his paw to clean it while you shop for groceries… he chases anything shiny that you come across and swats at it with his paws, leaps at it and tries to capture it—usually rocks or mora people drop. Maybe he likes the mineral, maybe it’s the shine. You can’t really know.

  You try to give him some nice food, cut down nicely so he won’t accidentally choke on it… but he won’t eat it, not unless you plate it properly…? At least, when you rearranged it better and separated the meats from the greens, he seemed to like it more. Maybe he thought you were treating him a bit too much like a pet rather than a partner that’s unfortunately become a cat for a (hopefully) limited time.

  After a long day of… not doing much, Zhongli realised he had left scratches on the sides of some furniture and he tries to hide or cover them up for the time being, dragging a blanket over the arm of a divan in the living room… hopefully you won’t discover them and he can fix it after he’s back to normal before you notice.

  You do notice that he very much prefers specific textures, he doesn’t like walking on the hardwood floor of your home and instead prefers to lie down or sit on blankets or the silken sheets in your shared bedroom. 

  Despite the strange predicament, Zhongli is very calm, he’s both patient and has a good sense—if this was a dangerous curse or spell that was difficult to reverse, he would likely sense it. Instead, he considers using this time to show and receive affection in a way you haven’t been able to before. 

  He often sits by your legs or thighs, he winds around them and rubs his furry cheeks along your clothes and pretty much anywhere he can reach. Your legs when he’s winding around them, your hand when you reach out to pet him, your cheek when he stands on your chest when you’re trying to read in bed before sleeping. 

  He purrs and cuddles with you, laying in your arms or over your lap—he even hid in your bag once when you went out for the day, and you discovered it too late to take him back home (you did wonder why your bag felt heavier than usual) and thus, he has the pleasure of accompanying you to your work—something he doesn’t often get the excuse or time to do. 

  Thankfully, Hu Tao didn’t question it when you came to her and said that Zhongli couldn’t come to work for a few days (hopefully just a few days). If anything, she sighed in relief and said something about him finally using his paid time off and sick days. Then thanks you for taking him out of commission??? 

  You pour over some scrolls and papers to try and figure out how to turn Zhongli back, and he hops onto the desk in the study, nuzzling against your arm before sitting down, tail swaying as he joins you in searching for ways to bring him back to you in a more familiar form. Despite how cute he is like this. 

* eri is the collar-flap on the front of a kimono/yukata that crosses over the chest, he's tucked into it and lying on his back. if you know about the nioh cat clock scene, yeah.

* wriothesley is supposed to be a maine coon type of cat, just huge and heavy. but not wild cat huge.

[rindreamery]

to be loved is to be seen.

the little things that the blue lock men do for you as their way of saying, "i love you." featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku ─ content: fluff

note. spreading down bad bllk men agenda 🫦 finals is this week, so that means i will not be able to write at all for 3-4 days, so i just wanted to pop this out rlly quickly (event fics will be written as soon as i wrap up this sem, PROMISE)

itoshi rin picks out the things you don't like in your food.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but rin has a folder in his notes app about you— things you like, things you dislike, and every little thing you’ve mentioned to him in passing. he wants to know every little detail about you, to write it down and memorize it until the knowledge becomes stuck in the back of his head. to the point that it becomes like common sense to him (if there were ever a pop quiz on facts about you, he would pass with flying colors.) at the end of every date, or every time he hangs out with you, he’ll update his notes with another little thing he’d learned. you will never catch him admitting it out loud, but it definitely shows in how he treats you.

there is one thing he’d memorized about you, by now, though. it’s written in bold, italicized, and underlined in his notes: you hate mushrooms. 

rin catches himself looking at the ingredients of certain meals whenever the two of you would eat at a new restaurant, or order food from an unfamiliar place. it’s not that he’s necessarily a picky eater because, frankly, he really doesn’t care. but he wants you to enjoy it, he wants you to be able to eat without stressing about having to pick it out. his eyes are always scanning through the print, actively checking if mushrooms are one of the ingredients listed. 

but, there are times when the ingredients aren’t listed, and there are times when you end up ordering something with mushrooms in it. 

he may be dense in certain aspects, but it’s hard for him to miss the disappointed look on your face. the way your expression falls ever so slightly, and your smile falters for half a second. before you could dig in, before you could even put yourself through five minutes of digging through the food— he’s swiftly grabbing it from you. 

truthfully, he does it without thinking. he’s acting on his thoughts before he could even process what he’s doing. rin tries to fight the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks, the way the heat crawls up his neck and to his face at the realization of what he’d done, and he fails. but he’s committed to the act now, and he’s not going to give it back to you until he’s done what he needed to do.

he tries to ignore the somewhat perplexed look on your face, and the way you watch him closely as his fingers make quick work of moving the mushrooms from your plate to his. (he tries to sneak in some of your favorite food from his plate to yours, but he’s not slick, and you definitely notice.)

“here,” he says, pushing the plate closer to you after a few minutes. “you can eat it now.”

he sees you glance at the plate, and then back up at him— he looks away as you beam at him with a grateful smile, trying to ignore his ever-increasing heart rate. 

itoshi sae remembers the small details about your routine.

it is almost guaranteed that sae will wake up before you do. his alarm is set to go off at the crack of dawn, right as the sun starts to peek through the horizon, and he's starting his day while you're still in deep sleep. there’s a set routine that he follows, to a tee: wake up (and then contemplate staying in bed, just to cuddle with you a little longer), stretch, do morning yoga, and then go on a jog. it’s something he’d been doing for years, and he has never gone out of his way to add anything new to his routine— that is, until one morning. 

at first, it started with a random thought. as he was getting ready to leave the house, to go for his morning jog, he had unsystematically decided to set out your favorite mug and go-to morning snack. 

sae didn’t think it would be that significant to you, and he, initially, had no plans of doing it again. he simply had extra time to spare, and he knew that making your morning drink was always the first part to your routine, so he decided to get the first step out of the way for you.

truly, he wasn’t planning to make a habit out of this. but then, you told him, “that was a sweet way to start off my morning,” with that sleepy, morning smile of yours. he tries to not pay attention to the way his heart softens at the sight, and the realization that that had made him happy. yet now, he does it every time.

from then on, his alarm was always set to go off two minutes earlier. it’s rewarding, in his opinion, to come home to you— sitting at the dining table, messy hair and still in your pajamas, eyes half-lidded from sleep, with a smile on your face as you take a sip from the mug. and then you greet him with a thank you and a kiss, without fail, even when he tries to lightly guide you away because he’s sweaty.

it never works, because he folds the second you tell him, “g’morning. i missed you.” and he finds himself adding another part to his schedule. 

before sae’s even aware of it, much of his daily habits had been molded to fit with yours. 

on days where he’s far from home, in another country, he finds that his morning just never feels right without you. it feels weird not having to set out your favorite mug, and it feels even weirder not having you there to smother him in kisses. his routine had always determined his mood, and without you, he’s extra sour. 

“i miss you,” he ends up texting you. (that, too, becomes part of his routine when he’s far from you.)

michael kaiser has all your subtle behaviors memorized.

if kaiser were to be asked to name one annoying habit of yours, it would be the fact that you, sometimes, say things that contradict how you truly feel. he calls you pesky, he tells you that he’ll take your word for it and not read too deeply into whatever you’re saying— but, in a way, he’s contradicting himself too by saying that. he’ll always read into it; he’ll always analyze you, gaze narrowed, and watching for every subtle sign in your body language. he knows you, all too well. 

but there’s one thing you always say, one contradictory statement that you always make, that he’d memorized at this point. “it’s okay, i’m not cold,” even when you visibly are.

it irks him to no end. he doesn’t understand why you would say that even when there are goosebumps scattered all over your skin, when you have your arms wrapped around yourself, and you’re visibly trembling. he can practically see the bones under your skin, rattling, making some comical, cartoony noise in his head. you know that he can see you, and yet, you still lie to him.

and, at times, he does this on purpose— he puts the air conditioning in the car on full blast, all vents pointed at you, just to see how far you’re willing to go. and every time, it’s always the same, with the same answer.

kaiser isn’t completely cruel, however. he’s tucked one of his spare hoodies (your favorite, actually) into the backseat, existing purely for your use. first, he’ll scoff at you, roll his eyes, and let you suffer for a few more minutes. but eventually, the guilt will catch up to him, and he’ll constantly be glancing at you through his periphery, shaking and looking absolutely miserable in your seat.

he’ll think to himself for a second, as if contemplating whether he’ll actually help you out (he always does, he does not want you to actually suffer). and then, he’ll internally sigh, before speaking up. “stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “i have a spare hoodie in the back, take it.”

it’s almost laughable, the way you quickly turn your body around to reach for the backseat, visibly seeking warmth. he sees the look of pure joy in your eyes when you realize that it’s your favorite, and he smiles to himself.

“you’re the best,” you always tell him, as you pull the fabric over your head, and he's content. 

he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t reprimand you— he lets you do this, every single time.

oliver aiku is always willing to listen to you ramble.

it doesn’t matter if aiku’s had an exceptionally long day, it doesn’t matter if he feels as if he’s on the verge of succumbing to sleep— he will always make time for you. he will never pass up a chance to call you, to listen to you talk about whatever you want, whenever you want. you could talk for hours, going on and on about something that he doesn’t quite understand, and not a single complaint will slip past his lips. then again, he thinks to himself, why would he complain? hearing your voice is the best part of any day, good or bad. and every night, he finds himself waiting by his phone, waiting for your contact to appear on his screen.

he finds no shame at the speed in which he accepts your call, which is immediately, nor does he try to mask the anticipation in his voice.

and if he were to look into a mirror at that exact moment, he would also see the lovesick smile that had started to tug on the corners of his lips. you can’t see him, but he’s sure you can hear it in his voice. the way it softens, the way it loses its rough edges and lightens up ever so slightly, when he greets you. you probably know he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. (he doesn’t think he is, but when it comes to you, he’s completely transparent.)

it doesn’t take long before you’re divulging into another one of your endless tangents. but aiku’s attention remains undivided, only for you. he sits on the other side of the phone, silently, only responding when you want him to. it doesn’t matter if his own thoughts are clouded with exhaustion, his mind racing with the weight of the day—when you call, everything else fades into nothingness.

“did you know that venus is an evening star for 263 days out of the year?” he can hear the excitement in your voice, he can practically see the sparkle in your eyes, even without seeing you. it’s been three hours, and he’s sure that he should’ve been in bed one hour ago. but you’re still as energetic as ever, so he fights the way his body craves for sleep. he locks his jaw, and bites back a yawn, and listens. “and then, the fact that it disappears from the sky for 50 days, before returning as a morning star?”

there’s silence on your end, and aiku takes that as his cue to talk. “no,” he responds, and there’s an amused lilt in his tone. “i didn’t, actually. you should tell me more.” and you do. 

one look at the clock to his side tells him that, at this point, he won’t be getting enough sleep. he’s sure he’s going to be exhausted when he wakes up in the morning— though, he doesn’t really care, and he’s sure he won’t regret it. he’ll let you ramble about the stars for as long as you want, even when the stars themselves start to fade into the morning sky. 

© rindreamery, 2024