#i'll probably say something about how it may have been the best option available

[forthegothicheroine]

Trying to work out my "freak show" speech for the museum. ("The people in this exhibit were gawked at and that's awful, but they got rich from managing their own careers, but I don't want it to sound like that makes everything alright, but I don't think they'd have appreciated me talking about them like victims...")

[trinketfairy]

SQUISHMALLOWS/BUM BUMZ ALTERNATIVE MASTERPOST

After posting my warning on Jazwares for supporting Israel, I've been asked time and time again to make my alternative plushies brands available for non-Twitter users, to which I say "absolutely, fuck that site." It's well overdue at this point, so here's my list of plush brands that are way better than Squishmallows and Bum Bumz!

Unfortunately can't provide images due to Tumblr's image limit, but I'll provide websites for you to search through when available.

Complete list is under a readmore for convenience.

Squishables: If you want that same "kawaii" aesthetic and round shapes, Squishables is your best bet. They're great too because a lot of their plush are designed by fans who are given a cut of their sales. Sign up for their email notifications, they have sales very often!

Amuse/Amufun: If you're really into the "kawaii" aesthetic, then it makes sense to look directly towards Japanese brands! You may know them for their Alpacasso line. It can be expensive to get them imported, but I think they're very much worth it.

Jellycat: I can't say I 100% recommend their newer plush anymore considering their steep decline in quality, but their older plush are still so wonderful and full of character. You're bound to find something by them that you like from their catalogue. (Editor's note: This is what my original thread said, but it seems like Jellycat has improved their quality control, so I feel much better with recommending them again!)

Mary Meyer: If JC is too much out of your price range, then Mary Meyer is what I recommend next to them! Their Marshmallow Zoo line is a huge favourite of mine, I love how full of character they are.

Aurora World: Aurora World has plenty of brands under their belt, so there's bound to be something that tickles your fancy. Brands under the Aurora World company include Palm Pals, Eco Nation, Miyoni, and their baby line, Ebba.

Steiff: Ah yes, the OG teddy bear brand, the one that started it all and is still going strong. Be warned that they can get pretty expensive depending on what you're looking at, but I hear that they're so worth every single penny.

Douglas Cuddle Toys: Probably the quintessential plush brand when it comes to realistic plush, especially cats and dogs, but they have tons of other species available too! Pretty affordable too if you're buying them at retail price

Wild Republic: Another one that does more realistic-looking plush, but I think they have a wider selection of species to choose from. If you're looking for a niche animal, Wild Republic (likely) has you covered!

Shinada Morisaka Global: Another plush brand I have yet to get my hands on, but one that I hear fantastic things about. I mean come on, how can you not love these little guys??

Pokemon Center: Jazwares unfortunately holds the license to make Pokemon plush, but that doesn't mean they're your only option when it comes to Pokeplush! TPC has been making their own Pokeplush for ages now, and they have plenty of different lines to suit your tastes.

Sunlemon: They're expensive to get imported but oh my god are they worth it. The quality is truly umatched compared to American plushies, I adore my tanuki to bits. Please get more eyes on their stuff.

Prime Shiba: Definitely a more expensive option, but I think they're cute plushies for every dog lover. Their stuff often goes on sale often so definitely take advantage of them!

Plushie Dreadfuls: You've probably seen one of their mental illness-themed bunnies before, but have you seen their Pride and Zodiac collections too? They also have many generic-looking plush if the personalization isn't up your alley! Ok so this was in my Twitter thread but apparently since then some shit has gone down with the company CEO making some offhand remarks that got misinterpreted but he acted like an ass in response to it, I recommend doing your own research on it before you buy in case that's not something you wanna support.

StrawbunnyCake: Want to go more small business? Consider supporting a fellow disabled creator, StrawbunnyCake! Their stuff is adorable, and you're sure to fall in love with their characters.

Hannimations: Also on the list of small businesses is Hannimator! Easily best known for their Pride-related Colourful Puppies/Kittens plush lines

Paleoplushies: If you're super into dinosaurs and other preshistoric animals, then Paleoplushies is sure to have something you'll like! They're all handmade by a single artist, so please show them your love and kindness

Cirquell Curiosities: Another great small business to support, most known for their high-end demon goat plushies! A lot of their stuff is one of a kind too, so they're the place to go if you're looking for a unique plush.

Snughouls: The unique and elusive Care Weres line by McMadMissile is sure to win over your heart! It originally started as just being the werewolves, but has since expanded to all kinds of demonic creatures from the Kickstarter! There's even some designs waiting to be funded!

Next are a bunch of brands that weren't personally recommended by me, but get my seal of approval:

AfternoonFika

Creep Cat Toy Co.

Weighted Wildlife

Tasty Peach Studios

Bunnies By The Bay

Snoozimals

Smoko

ChottoBonita

Honeylambs

CraftedCuddlez

Cyborutchi

Fluffnest

MarDeLunaArts (+ on Etsy)

Bellzi

B Softies by B Toys

That's all I have to share, but if you have any other brands you think are worth highlighting then by all means I invite you to reblog with your additions. Please remember that this is a collective effort and we're all counting on each other to act. Keep your head up, don't stop talking about Palestine, and remember to prioritize the official BDS brands list. From the river to the sea 🇵🇸🍉🕊️🫒

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for lying about my babysitting availability to my aunt?

🧛‍♀️🐈

to recognize later^

M in high school. for the past few months ive been picking up my younger cousin (8m) from school, im scheduled for mondays and his other babysitter does other days because shes just a generally easier option (shes goes to school in the same building as him and gets out earlier/at the same time).

i take the bus to a school thats out of district, and commute is usually around ~30min, depending on traffic and weather. im home at 3:00 most days, and i pick up my cousin at 4:15, which is when he gets done tutoring.

sometimes my aunt will text me during school and ask me to pick up my cousin when his other babysitter drops out, and i'll be a bit grumpy about it but agree. heres the problem:

some days she'll ask me to pick him up at 3:15. my house is within walking distance of the school, but its an incredibly small window of time even if i rush to get down there, and thats not even taking into account weather conditions like rain, cold, or wind. in the past i've always agreed to pick him up at that time if i am literally able to (like if i dont have an appointment or something that is time-sensitive), not taking into account if my bus may be late or a road may be closed. but ive started to consider just lying and telling her im not available whenever she asks if i can pick him up at 3:15.

i'd say a big contributing factor is my autism, which makes me really stressed about getting there on time or how physically tired i'm going to be after speed-walking up and down steep sidewalks and roads to get there, also i have a tendency to not eat as much as i should for breakfast and lunch so by the time school is out im really hungry and that makes me cranky. i was always told as a kid to never lie, that honesty is the best policy, etc. and i took that literally. i only ever lie for jokes, so this will probably be the first time i consciously lie about something that isn't a joke and i am worriwd about it.

she does pay me what i consider to be a significant amount of money, anywhere from $25-50 depending on how many times ive babysat that week or how long its been since shes last paid me. i cant access the money rn, but im working on being able to (current total of $105)

tldr: i'm considering lying to my aunt and telling her i'm unable to pick up her kid from school sometimes because in reality it causes me too much stress, WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[shai-manahan]

Hi! It's been a while since I've talked about the upcoming updates, but I finally had a chance to actually sit down and make plans! (the life of a corporate slave, am I right? 🙃)

It has something to do with the changes I will be implementing on my patreon, though. I've thought for a while how to give content that's worthwhile of subscriptions while also making sure I can be comfortable with them, and in all honesty, I had a tricky time doing it. HM is too personal for me, as I used to talk about before, and some of the patreon benefits I promised before eventually felt too revealing - of my own thoughts and people whose lives were a huge inspiration for this story.

I will be talking about these changes and the update schedules as well below the cut.

UPDATES

I aim to finish at least half of HM's Book 1 this year. It seems to be a more realistic goal than forcing myself to finish everything right away (which tbh may have been a huge pressure I put on myself the past few years), though admittedly, things are unpredictable in the field I'm in; my job is full of overtime hours, and I spend most of my weekends trying to recover (or sick).

Still, I gotta finish it one way or another, and it's not going to write itself (though I wish it would!), so yeah, set realistic deadlines, pull out a few all-nighters, and maybe I'll actually get through it, who knows?

I do hope I'll have steadier finances by the time Book 2 starts so I can put more focus on writing and have sufficient energy for it, but that's a conversation for another day.

Changes in Prologue - Chapter 2

Okay. I know I promised not to make revisions until I write more chapters, but changing how some game mechanics work and reworking the stats made it a necessity, and I underestimated how much rewriting I'd have to do. A few scenes ended up not working well anymore, and I couldn't resist from revising a few clunky sections while I was at it.

Dialogue options were one of those that were significantly affected by the stat changes, but no worries, nothing is changed in the story -- meaning Wesley still fucks with the Ripper's life (oops), Richard still goes off doing whatever non-sus thing he's doing, you can still punch Bale (it's even a lot funnier this time), Bertrand remains a bitchy cop, and you'll still have your sad flashback with your former best friend/lover/crush or whatever they are to your MC.

The plan is to release the updated version of Prologue and Chapter 1 to patrons by the end of March (I will have a few days off work that week) and release it to the public once the new content is also ready, which I presume will be available next month (I will keep you all posted but I really hope I can get it done by then because it's been forever 🥲).

I might tweak Chapter 2 a little so the available portion can stand on its own rather than be divided into two parts, because it's just too long lmfao and is harming the pacing as I keep worrying about the length. I'm also incorporating a few suggestions a few folks gave me these past few months.

Succeeding chapters

I've probably said this before but things are bound to get more insane in HM once we're past the first three to four chapters. But also quicker to write in a way. They're the kind of scenes I thrive in, and while they have bigger variations, they're a lot more fast-paced, characters start being manipulative little shits, and the threats are more prevalent than ever. Your Ripper will not have a good time, but I certainly will (I say as I look at my outline and get sad doing it). There will be a few "breaks" in between, but this is not and will never be a light-hearted story. Anyway, I'm inclined to believe I'll be more consistent with updates when that time comes, so bear with me for now :')

PATREON CHANGES

This is getting long, so I'll just list the updated tier benefits and end the day with it. I'll be posting a schedule that I will be committing to (here and on patreon tomorrow morning), with the below details as well (so if you wanna stop here that's totally valid) but for now, here's the tentative list:

Tier 1

Early access - 4 days before a public update (this month will be an exception and you'll get the update as soon as the other tiers get it, too).

Sneak peeks and deleted scenes - I included the latter because apparently I delete a lot of great scenes

Hints for future revelations in the story - the categories will depend on results of polls; the hints may be about Bale's death, about Ripper's family, Pharos, Cyro, the ROs themselves, or the nightmares that the MC is getting, etc. Might be in form of vague conversations/dialogues between unknown characters, might be me dropping subtle info about those involved. Either way, it will be fun :). The polls and these hints will be given monthly.

Tier 2

Early access - 1 week before a public update

all the other benefits for Tier 1

monthly RO snippets - I'm still experimenting with this, but I might simply write MC x RO snippets (with different kinds of MCs for different scenarios because I deeply hate writing blank slate MCs, sorry)

a choice to see the POV of a character, decided through polls, for every chapter/update.

Tier 3

Early access - as early as it's available and goes through testing stages

all other benefits for previous tiers

Non-RO short stories

Previews on unintroduced characters :)

That's all for tonight! I am so tired lmfao but I hope you all are having a great weekend so far! See you tomorrow :)

[japanesedoramaandanimelover91]

#ARASHI Newsletter vol.103

#NINO 2023122907:06

💛Good morning, everyone!

Kaikyuu VOL.103 "にのあわせ VOL.11"💛

Thank you all for asking so many questions!(While looking at the questions) Then, let's answer the first question right away.

Q1: "Lately, what's the obsession?"

💛 Lately, in terms of acting, i've been investigating what i can star in that will make people happy and inspire them to watch.

Of course, i don't know if i'll be able to act, but i've been doing that research and i hope to act in something like that a little bit.

Q2: "Can you share some behind-the-scenes footage of 『VIVANT』?"

💛 That's something i've been talking about since the days of 'My Family' (TBS).Although the director wasn't Fukuzawa-san (Katsuo) of "Vivant", the producer was Kazutaka Iida-san (of "Vivant"). Then i asked Iida-san, "What are you going to produce after that?" He said, "Next summer, there will be a drama with Sakai Masato-san and director Fukuzawa. "And, i heard that it will also star Abe Hiroshi-san... 💛 I said to him "Wow! I want to be in it!" "If there's any suitable role, please cast me in it" (laughs). When i was doing this job, i always dreamed of acting in the same production as Yakusho-san Hiroshi-san. Also, unlike in the past, being involved in a work as a non-starring role allows fans to focus more on the work. Of course, it may be worthwhile to be the main actor and to be involved all the time, but when you're not acting this week or last week, it's natural to take the work seriously, and the audience says, "It's not a big deal."And so the audience said, "It's not a big deal that [Ninomiya didn't appear]. I think that people who support me in this way have an additional effect on the "viewing" perspective of the work. I hope that you will enjoy the work as purely as you do, and that's very important.

💛 Dramas like the TV series "ONE DAY 〜聖夜のから騒ぎ～" (Fuji Television) have also demonstrated this kind of decentralization. With social media and other options now available, fewer people seem to be watching 1 hour dramas than before. 15-20 minute videos are also predominant on SNS. Therefore, i think we need to create a format that can automatically attract attention. In other words, if Takao Osawa-san, Miki Nakatani-san, and i are each responsible for 15 minutes, then ultimately viewers will be able to see a 1-hour story. Now is the time when producers also need to change their presentations in this way. Although the show may be over by the time this newsletter is sent out, i'm happy if people enjoy it.

Q3: "What kind of role would you like to try in a movie or drama?"

💛 Personally, i don't have any particular role or work that i want to try. Although i can't disclose the specifics ...... for now, thankfully, next year i'll be so busy that i probably won't be able to do it without 2 Ninomiya (laughs). Therefore, i will continue to be involved in TV and various media next year as well. Or rather, if i don't continue to be involved, the work may not end (laughs). Also next year and the year after that, maybe something interesting can be made. So there hasn't been much change in the way I've been acting so far, so i hope you'll continue to look forward to it.

Q4: "How do you feel about fans?"

💛 The fans may find the current situation disturbing because values are changing every day, and the environment and situation are also changing, and in this case, it's a fact that can't be changed, and we're trying to navigate the unclear situation. Maybe the "airiness" of the environment will get better and we can do more different things, which is not necessarily a bad thing. I'll do my best to reassure the fans who support us and keep up the good work.

[naamahdarling]

I think I "should be spending time" doing exactly what I did, because if I didn't, the animals would have been left in a maybe dangerous situation, and I possibly would have missed the opportunity to get them entirely, and they would have gone back to the person who was trying to exploit them. They wouldn't have died, no, but I hope you can understand why I was not going to let that happen.

The familiar and light tone does sound a bit like I'm just out here cool with the breeding, and I think I just. Didn't get the point across that this was not not not a good situation.

I didn't want to go into the circumstances here, or maybe at all, because I was trying to keep it light and it involves the disturbing and tragic death of another animal, and I wasn't quite sure how to handle talking about that. But if there was another option, in the very brief time I had available to me under the kind of pressure I was under, no there wasn't. Because if I hadn't done exactly as I did, I would have lost the kittens as well as Dad.

The parents are unneutered because they are being bred for money just because they're pretty. I hate that. I have no access to the person, only a member of her family, who had managed to obtain dad and these babies. I want to make this stop. Getting a person who is exploiting animals for money to part with their animals is very difficult. It's nigh impossible doing it through a proxy. By taking and securing the kittens I am preventing this person from profiting from them, and I am keeping an avenue of positive communication open with the only other people who can help. I have these kittens' older siblings. I cannot emphasize to you enough just how badly I want their parents to be safe. I can probably get Winston eventually. It is very possible that their mother won't make it through another litter so I pray to god I can get her too. If she becomes ill or weak enough, this person may be willing to let her go, at which point, boom, I have a problem again. But I'll save her because her daughter is doing biscuits on my lap right now:

I have been trying to intervene in this situation for months, to do all the shoulds, and was finally making headway, and then something really really terrible happened to someone's best friend and emotional service animal tonight and I had no breathing room. I had to move fast.

Everything you suggest is something that I would normally do, and would normally be equipped to do. A lot of things aligned just wrong to make this impossible to do in the way that I usually do it. I normally don't hesitate to drop a LOT to save a single animal if I have to (see my #littlemissfancypants tag for the world's least free free cat) because the love of the internet is vast, and people are fundamentally kind no matter what anybody says, and it is usually possible for me to offset most of it or all of it, and shelters are hard to find space in for animals in a bad way, and why take a space away when they are healthy animals I could easily place myself? It's foolhardy, given what I live on, but I'll do if nobody else is there to. But right now my CareCredit is maxed out from three of our cats dying earlier this year in an absolute fucking unpreventable travesty that hollowed me out and took away part of my boyfriend's soul, and due to that same loss I am nowhere near emotionally up to doing anything fundraising related. I haven't even been able to do it to wipe out our IDK $5,500 worth of debt from not being able to prevent our boys from leaving us. Various factors meant I do not have the spare space I normally do, I am injured and usually can't walk normally or I would have cleared the back room, the current room that is cleared for kittens is full of OUR new babies (the older siblings to these two) and adding more cats to this situation wouldn't help because our pre-existing cat and lone survivor of the horror show that was August, lost every single one of her friends and is now extremely depressed and anxious and psychologically could not tolerate the addition of three other cats which, at the time I made the decisions I did, I assumed would include an adult male intact tomcat. A lot of shit went into this going all to hell. I'm not inexperienced at this and it normally goes much more smoothly and it's so frustrating.

I did the right thing tonight, and I don't think that if you would been in my position you would have done differently, I truly don't.

I know you don't mean any harm, but this actually hurt. You couldn't have known, but man did you hit a nerve with "you should."

"Could you" is better, for next time.

Because no. Tonight I couldn't. Tonight I did what I should. Someone had to and I was who was there.

If you are within 3 hours of Tulsa, and you love cats,

I need you all to consider, right now, whether you would be willing to take Jasper and Juniper's little brothers as a bonded pair, and/or their wonderful daddy (unneutered) together or separate.

I need to place them as soon as possible. Unlike I usually am able to I currently am not able to keep them or get them neutered and vetted. When we lost the boys I'm maxed out our CareCredit.

Edit: too slow to get Winston surrendered, babies available.

Jesus.

[p4rallel-universe]

Can I request a fic where the reader walks into the Gallagher house, looking for Ian but instead hears soft panting and groans coming from upstairs. You ignore it until someone shouts your names, looking around to find out what's up reveals lip with his hand down his pants and back arched- whimpering your name until- oop, I'll let you decide how it ends;)

encounters

(Lip Gallagher x Male reader)

nsfw

walking down the street, your phone held to your ear, you hear the call go to voicemail once again. Ian must be busy - working, or fucking, who knows - because he's not picking up your calls. you really need to see him, to talk to him about some family stuff that's been seriously bothering you.

Ian's your best friend. your ride or die. you get along with his whole family. helping Fiona whenever you can, even Lip smokes with you once in a while despite being pretty busy these days.

thinking of your last option, you decide to stop by the Gallagher house. you still have a spare key from sometime Ian let you borrow one. unlocking the door, you enter nonchalantly. the Gallagher household is like a second home to you, so there's no real boundaries for when you arrive. you kind of just...come and go.

"Ian?", you call out, to no answer. no sign of him, in fact, the whole house seems pretty empty. must be a busy day. you try shouting a couple more times, still to no reply.

figuring since you walked all the way here, to no avail, you may as well take a minute to rest on the couch. and take a beer from the fridge, what's one missing, right?

relaxing on the couch, sipping the beer (which always tastes better when stolen from the Gallagher fridge) you suddenly hear your name. you figure you must've misheard something, or imagined it completely - probably sleep deprivation, it wasn't a great night.

then you hear it again. it's loud in the way you can tell it's not meant to be shouted, so it's not like anyone's calling to you. it's kind of desperate. like someone's running, chasing you, trying to get your attention.

weirded out, you set your beer on the table and stand up, warily approaching the stairs. listening in, you hear a couple more sounds. there's a kind of out of breath panting. shortly after, another breathy call of your name.

perhaps against your better judgement, you ascend the stairs, making sure to be quiet - just in case. the sound of quiet groans becomes more clear as you reach the top of the steps.

"what the fuck-", you whisper to yourself. the sounds are coming from the spare room. where Lip's been sleeping. pressing your ear to the door, you hear the chorus of moans, groans, pants and desperate iterations of your name.

your face burns bright red, and a familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement pools in your stomach. the truth is, you've always found Lip crazy attractive. he's rough around the edges, intelligent and honest. and surprisingly, very loyal and caring. in short, he's sweet and hot. you'd be lying if you didn't say he was definitely one of the better perks of being Ian's best friend.

you wonder for a split second if what you're about to do is a good idea, before deciding you don't really care. you push open the door and see Lip in his rather desperate position. he's spread across the bed, dressed in only boxers and a tank top. his face is red from panting, and his back is arching him off the bed.

he's clearly very into his self pleasure, so he doesn't seem to notice you right away. trembling with every step, you move towards the bed, stopping by the side. one of Lip's eyes open and look at you. shockingly, he doesn't freak out. he doesn't even seem embarrassed. he is, as usual, cool as can be. he says nothing, just looks at you. his remaining pants turn into a bit of a chuckle.

hesitantly, you sit close to Lip on the bed. he furrows his brow at you. looking him right in the eyes, taking a deep breath. you reach and grab the bulge in his boxers. Lip's breath hitches.

he's absolutely rock hard and you can feel it. you can feel the strain, the need. you want to relieve Lip of this. of everything. you want to help him.

kissing him forcefully, you don't waste any time. hand reaching inside his boxers to stroke where he needs you most. he groans immediately. he grabs the wrist of the hand you're touching him with, he guides you up and down, faster. gripping your hand, making you hold him tighter.

his eyes are squeezed so tightly shut, his head is thrown back. harshly, with little to no patience, Lip grabs the back of your head, taking a second to play with your hair. there's that playful softness. the reason you've always liked Lip. the roughness, the want and need for something more, paired with a gentle goofyness. he flashes you a smile and before you can even go in to kiss him again - which you really want to do - he's guided your head downwards.

you figure there will be time for intimacy once the rush is over. eager to fulfill Lip's fantasy, - if you're honest, it's definitely yours too - you dip your head down immediately. taking him into your mouth, and he groans louder then ever. his big hands immediately grip onto your hair.

your hands are resting on his thighs as you bob your head up and down. he lets go of his iron grip on your hair to sit up and take off his wife-beater, the only piece of clothing he still has on.

he's glistening with sweat, you reach your hands up to feel his chest. when you groan around him at the feeling of his strong body, he growls in appreciation.

his grip tightens, back arching again. you pick up the pace, putting your all into giving Lip what he wants. what he needs. his groans get deeper, growls more frequent. you can tell by the tightness of his grip on your head that he's close. really close.

"fuck...", Lip grumbles, his deep voice rings out and settles in your head. playing on loop. fuck, fuck, fuck.

he cums with a deep shout of pleasure, arched body spasming as he pulls harshly on your hair.

working him through his aftershocks, his tensed body falls backwards onto the bed. his hand wipes sweat from his forehead. his hand, joined with yours, pulls you to lie next to him.

he turns to you, "fuck me, Y/N. didn't know you were so wild." he chuckles, blue eyes glossed over. in the afterglow of your hot encounter, you take a second to appreciate his boyish beauty. his curls, messed up from rolling around in his bed. smug smirk, a smile that reaches his bright eyes.

he glances down to see that you are, obviously, very hard. smiling to himself, he figures he'll give something new a shot today. he grabs your head, gently this time, and kisses your forehead. there's the intimacy.

he's rubbing you through your jeans, biting his lip in anticipation.

fuck.

(finished this one for the very nice anon 👌 )

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (14/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?

Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous chapter

You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.

"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"

All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.

You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.

"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.

With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.

"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.

"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.

"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.

"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.

"How do you know how to do that?“, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.

You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.

You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.

"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.

"I thought we were friends."

You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.

Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.

-

You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.

As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.

"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.

You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."

Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."

„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."

"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.

"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"

He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.

"You can't avoid it, Spence."

You'd rather he'd gone home.

The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.

JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.

"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"

"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."

You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.

"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.

You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"

You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."

You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."

"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."

Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."

You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"

You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."

You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.

-

Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.

The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.

Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.

Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.

"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"

Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."

She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."

Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."

The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.

"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.

The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.

For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.

He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.

Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.

"Y/N."

- taglist closed -

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[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part III

Part I

Part II

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

After that night, it became increasingly hard for (Y/N) to leave, and for Eren to let her do so.

Something between them had changed. There were moments— when Eren would press feather-light kisses against her forehead, when he would casually leave a cup of her favorite tea where she would find it— where (Y/N) felt as though her heart might burst. It was all the little things that baffled her, all the ways in which he seemed to understand exactly how she felt; it was as though he knew her more than she knew herself. On the mornings that she would wake in his bed, sleepy and sticky and wholly content, (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to have this life forever.

Other days— on days like today— she was reminded exactly why that could never be, and it broke her heart.

Today, they had planned a romantic dinner in the park, an evening under the stars. It was supposed to be something special, a little getaway just for the two of them; they had wanted to leave as soon as (Y/N) was relieved from her patrol, so Eren had moved her things to his place, hoping that they could leave together from there for their evening alone.

In and of itself, that was fine… but when (Y/N) came in, covered head-to-toe in viscous Creature blood, Eren was furious.

“And you call me a monster,” he growled, looking her up and down with hate in his eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

He stood from his seat on the sofa, and (Y/N) began to back away, still wary from the fight she had narrowly escaped from unscathed. Her every instinct told her that she should run, fire a round of silver bullets into his chest, but she steeled herself, doing neither.

“It’s not my fault— they were attacking a civilian,” she told him as he stalked towards her, his face twisted into a horrific scowl. “I tried to stop them— tried to find out what was going on— but then they came at me with their claws, and I was left with no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” he snarled, and it was then that anger filled (Y/N) from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. "They were probably terrified of you— how could you possibly blame them for lashing out?"

(Y/N) grit her teeth.

“This, from the man who thought genocide was his only option to the same problem?”

Eren made a low, warning sound in the back of his throat, but (Y/N) pressed on.

“You would rather me have died?” she demanded, stepping into his space. “Would it have pleased you more for my body to bleed out on the pavement, ripped to shreds by an aggressive werewolf? Would you even care, or would you just find the next blood bag and move on with your life?”

“Maybe so,” he shot back, “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your insufferable mouth.”

That stung— but if there was one thing (Y/N) knew how to do, it was to strike back twice as hard as she had been struck.

“Fine then,” she said, turning on her heel. “I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll go out and find someone who actually wants my company, someone who’ll fuck me good and proper over the counter at some hole-in-the-wall bar over on Easy Street, someone younger, with a nicer cock and less fucking baggage— ”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence, or even walk a single step further— Eren grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him, his fist painfully tight against her scalp.

“Wanna say that again, to my face?” he asked, tilting her head back.

“I’ll go find someone else to fuck me,” she spat, struggling in vain against him. “I’ll spread my legs for the next available schmuck in the closest bar I can find, so you can hear me scream his name and not yours.”

It was a low blow, to threaten a vampire’s claim on something they had previously assumed had belonged to them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She had almost died today, and she’d be damned if she was going to take shit from anyone about what she had to do to survive. If Eren wanted a fight, she would damn sure give him one.

“Like hell you will,” he told her, pulling her head back so that she had to strain to remain standing. “You’re mine. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood— you are my Companion.”

"I belong to no one!"

Those words ripped from her throat and echoed throughout the empty house, and it was then that Eren stopped, looking at her with calculation in his gaze.

"You're right," he said, releasing her hair. "No mortal can serve two masters, lest they love one and despise the other; an archaic religious concept, but an accurate one nonetheless. You've made it abundantly clear where your loyalty lies. I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) began to tremble. "Eren, what are you saying?"

"I release you from our pact," he replied coldly, his eyes so dull and lifeless that it sent a chill down her spine. "No longer are you bound to be my wine-press— I free you from me."

"Eren—"

"Go," he commanded, and (Y/N) felt terribly, horribly empty.

Once, he would have told her to come freely, go safely, and leave something of the happiness she brought him; now, he gave her a cold dismissal, and it frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Still, she went, feeling hollow and used, and she didn't bother to shut the door behind her as she turned to walk home, weary from the day and sick from fighting.

***

Armin had lived for a very long time, but even so, he had yet to meet anyone so foul of temper as Eren when the Hunger was on him.

"Eren, you have to feed."

The vampire, as ill in health as in temper, glared weakly at him. "I'm not hungry."

"But you are Hungry, and don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. Look, if this is about that girl—"

"I told you not to speak of her!"

Ah, so it was about her. By the looks of him, it had been two weeks since Eren had fed; Armin would bet that he hadn't seen her in the same amount of time.

"If I need to, I'll drag her here to make up with you myself," said Armin testily, "I refuse to watch my best friend starve himself because he refuses to feed on anyone else."

"You will not touch her."

Armin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. He just patted Eren's arm in farewell and set about finding the little lady who was the root cause of his current consternation.

It took longer than Armin had anticipated to find the young woman who had, for all intents and purposes, completely unraveled Eren's composure; her scent, while thick and memorable in Eren's apartment, was hard to track otherwise. Armin spent two hours just wandering the city while trying to catch a breath of it here or there, and when he finally did manage to catch a whiff of her scent and follow it to her, he understood exactly why it had been so hard to track her down.

The girl was a Hunter, of all things.

When Armin found her, she was knee-deep in sewage, her knife embedded to the hilt in the skull of what appeared to be some species of winged reptile. Armin, having been a tad desperate and not actually having been expecting to find anything when he lifted the lid to the man-hole on 32nd and Main, was surprised to say the least— and when (Y/N) ripped her knife free and readjusted her stance into a defensive one directed at him, his surprise turned to intrigue.

“Er, hello there,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t suppose you’ll take my word for it that I just want to chat, will you?”

Curiously, the words gave the woman pause. She relaxed her stance ever-so-slightly, and then her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Armin Arlert?” she queried, craning her neck up to see him. “Is that you?”

This one grows curiouser and curiouser, he thought, but responded affirmatively.

“Can you give me a bit, then?” she asked, kicking the corpse of the Creature she’d just killed. “I’m not exactly fit for company. Perhaps we could meet later for a discussion over tea?”

“I’m afraid it’s urgent,” he said as she knelt to decapitate her prey— likely for proof of victory. “I think you know why I’m here, so you understand that time is of the essence.”

She didn’t look up at him as she replied.

“If this is about Eren, then I don’t have time to talk.”

Her tone was hard, bitter, and matter-of-fact, and it reminded Armin so much of Jean that it hurt… but just like Jean, Armin would bet that she could be won over by appealing to her inherent sense of human decency

“He’s suffering (Y/N),” he said, awkwardly crouching above the manhole so that she could better see the truth written in his eyes. “He won’t feed.”

“That’s hardly my problem.”

And oh, how well Armin knew that state of mind. If there was one thing Eren Jaeger knew how to do, it was push away the people who loved him most. Armin had dealt with that particularly lovely quirk of his for centuries, and it never got easier to deal with no matter how much time passed. If anything, it got more difficult the older they both got.

“When you’re the solution to a problem, you become a part of it whether you like it or not,” Armin replied, patient and understanding. “He cares for you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him then, fury in her eyes.

“He hurt me.”

Armin shrugged. “He hurts everyone he cares about. It’s just who he is. Nothing comes for free— least of all the love and loyalty of someone as old and as powerful as Eren.”

“Your heart may be toughened to his meanness,” she told him, the head of the creature she’d slain in her hands, “But mine is not, and I don’t like him well enough to willfully remain for him to use as an emotional punching bag.”

At that, Armin couldn’t help but let loose a wry grin.

“No,” he said, “I should think not; but I do think you love him well enough to make sure he doesn’t starve himself to death because he can’t have you.”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, then she crossed her arms.

“I won’t come crawling to him. He’s going to have to come to me.”

Armin grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“Is that at all negotiable?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Well, there was nothing for it.

“And you will let him feed if he comes to you?”

(Y/N) thought, then nodded. “If he proves himself deserving.”

Armin couldn't help himself; he laughed. Eren might have met his match in this one.

"Very well. I'll work my magic, and you work yours."

She nodded and bade him farewell, but before Armin left, he paused.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

With that, he left her, ready to take Eren by the ear and throw him at her if he had to.

***

(Y/N)'s heart was racing as she opened the door, knowing good and well who would be behind it.

After her little talk with Armin— and the near heart attack he had given her in the process— she had called in to Zeke and told him she needed to go home to deal with an emergency. A replacement for her patrols had been sent, and she had come home to wash the grim from her skin, making herself as presentable as possible with the time she had. (Y/N) was worried, so worried, that the filth she had been wading in earlier would have left a lingering stench, or even that it had affected the taste of her; she had scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was raw, hoping to erase every last remnant of her day from her skin…but as it turned out, she needn't have bothered.

Two, three, four hours later, and Eren hadn't shown— it was only now, right at the six hour mark, that he had decided to come to her.

Needless to say, (Y/N) was… less than pleased, but when she opened the door to find Eren pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his eyes, her heart softened ever-so-slightly. It seemed that Armin was right; he had been suffering.

"You look like shit," she told him quietly, opening her door widely to let him in.

"I assure you, I feel worse," Eren grumbled, but stepped in as she closed the door behind him.

For a long, awkward moment, they just looked at each other, silent and unsure. It was unsettling how unlike himself Eren seemed; he was almost soft when he looked at her, and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. Eventually, though, like two opposite ends of a magnet, they were drawn together, and Eren brushed a piece of hair back from her face.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and rough. (Y/N) caught his hand in hers before it could fall from her hair, and she pressed it against her chest, keeping it trapped there, touching the skin above her beating heart.

"Hey."

They watched each other a moment more before the dam broke between them, and they both spoke at once.

"I'm sorry."

A shared grin, a shy laugh— and then (Y/N) said what they both were thinking.

"You need to feed first, and talk later," she told him, her hand still clasped in his. "You're not off the hook, but I doubt we can have any real conversation with you like this."

Eren nodded gratefully, tugging at her wrist— his usual biting spot— but (Y/N) shook her head, indicating her neck. The thickest, richest blood, she knew, would come from there; and if there was ever a time to be generous with the placement of Eren's bite, she figured that it would be now.

The worst of it was over quickly. There was a brief sting at the intrusion of razor-sharp fangs, and then the vaguely uncomfortable feeling of having something poking down into places that decidedly should not be poked at all, but then (Y/N) quickly eased into the rhythm of the act, focusing wholly on the way Eren's lips felt against her skin. In a few moments, she would become pleasantly light-headed, and then Eren would pull away and look at her like she'd hung the stars. Oh, how she'd missed that look! (Y/N) found herself longing for it even before she quite realized it.

And then, without warning, a vision came, and (Y/N) was swept into another world entirely.

The evening sky rolled endlessly out towards the horizon; it seemed to go on forever, sparkling with more stars than (Y/N) had ever seen before. The full moon was so bright that it cast the whole world in what seemed like silver sunlight, and (Y/N) wondered how anyone could sleep on a night such as this. It was far too beautiful an experience to miss.

Alongside her— alongside Eren, through whose eyes she saw the world— strode Armin and two older-looking cadets who she recognized from previous memories as Reiner and Berthold. Eren was feeling anxious over something, and Reiner and Berthold were… well, they were kind. Reiner especially seemed to be like an older brother, and Eren admired him.

"You'll do just fine tomorrow," said Reiner, placing a large, warm hand on Eren's shoulder. "I'm certain of it."

The memory ended, and (Y/N) came back to herself as Eren's tongue laved over the wounds his fangs had left in her neck, sealing them.

"See anything?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin, and (Y/N) nodded.

"You loved them, too," she said softly, remembering the fondness Eren had felt as though it had been her own. "You loved the Hunters that tried to take everything from you, and— and I think they loved you, too."

Eren pulled away from her, and it was then that she saw the tears shining in his eyes.

"Yes," he replied, his voice broken. "We were children. How could we not love each other as God intended? Hate was never in our nature; it was an inheritance that we couldn't escape."

He paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he told her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I lost my temper. I forget— I forget that you're not them."

And (Y/N) understood. She understood that no matter how many centuries passed, there would be wounds that just wouldn't heal for Eren. He would lash out at things that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't experienced the horrors of war as he had. Suddenly, she felt petty for having lashed out as she had, and guilt threatened to rise up and choke her.

"You're forgiven," she replied, leaning into his touch. "It takes two to tango— I shouldn't have baited you like I did. I knew how badly that would hurt you, and that's exactly why I said it."

At that, Eren cracked a grin.

"I expect nothing less from a Kirschtein. Your grandfather would have punched me square in the jaw— and as big as that bastard got when we were older, he probably would have put me on my ass."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh, and Eren joined her, their combined joy swelling until there was nothing else in the world but their happiness.

How they started kissing, neither one of them would be able to say afterwards, but in the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered. Their love was too large to contain, too much to hold back— and it was love, (Y/N) realized, though she hadn't quite put words to it yet. She loved Eren Jaeger, a Creature, a monster, as much as her grandfather before her had and more. She loved him with a desperation that felt like being knocked over by an ocean wave and plunged into depths where her feet no longer touched the sand. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before.

And, as he placed her gently on her bed that was barely big enough for two, divesting himself of his shirt above her, (Y/N) thought that maybe she didn't mind it so much as long as he loved her in return.

"I missed you," said Eren, dropping kisses by her ear as he unhooked her bra. "I missed this."

"Me too," she gasped as his mouth wandered to her nipple, her hands fisting in his hair. "Oh, God, I missed you too."

The time for words was soon gone, however; Eren's sinful, sinful mouth traveled lower and lower until he was kissing at the insides of her thighs, parting them to access what lay between, and (Y/N) threw her head back as he spread her open with his hands and sucked brazenly at her clit.

How long he spent there, worshipping her sex, (Y/N) had no idea; all she knew was that she came once from his mouth on her and a second time from his fingers inside her, and when he finally, mercifully withdrew, she was broken down to the simplest parts of herself; there was nothing left but an affection so deep that it threatened to overtake her if she didn't let it out, and she did the only thing she knew to do to release the overwhelming pressure that was building in her chest as Eren pushed his big, veiny cock into her.

She told him what she should have said a long time ago.

"Oh, Eren," she gasped as his cockhead shoved deep inside her. "I love you."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Eren went unnaturally still. He looked at her with pupils blown wide inside emerald eyes, and his fangs slightly distended; in any other situation, (Y/N) might have laughed at how surprised he seemed, but it seemed as though she were frozen in time, unable to do anything but stare earnestly up at them, hoping he understood how much she cared for him.

"You… what?"

"I love you," she repeated, her body moving without her permission to roll her hips up into him, moving his cock even further inside her. "Please, Eren, I need—"

He cut her off with a forceful, bruising kiss, and his hips started making slow, deep thrusts inside her, her legs hiked up over his shoulders.

"Again," he said against her lips."Say it again."

"I love you."

Another thrust or two, a hand circling her wounded throat.

"Again."

"I love you, Eren."

"Again."

This time, it was only a whisper.

"I love you," she said, and Eren began fucking her in earnest.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he told her as he thrust hard and deep inside her. "You're every man's dream, a nirvana the damned such as myself were never meant to reach. (Y/N), you are everything, and I—"

He seemed to choke on the words, and (Y/N) kissed him as he tried to regain his composure.

"I don't deserve you," he said, shaking with the force of their passion. "I don't deserve your love."

It's not about deserving, she wanted to say, It never was, but then she was coming again, her climax contracting her walls around her lover, and it was all she could do to remain conscious as Eren fucked her relentlessly through it all, chasing his own high.

It was only later, after a shower and something to eat that they finally spoke again. They were back in bed, and Eren's arm was wrapped around her, as though he were afraid to let her go for even a moment; truthfully, (Y/N) thought he was asleep, but then his breath tickled her ear as he said,

"I love you, angel."

And that, (Y/N) thought, had been worth it all, in the end.

[hufflautia]

The Boyfriend

Dedicated to the anon who came up w this idea and to @eatacrackerandstop <3. There's a small Shadow and Bone reference; if you find it, you get a high five✨

Summary: Slytherin and Hufflepuff meet their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time, and Slytherin has a few concerns.

~

Hufflepuff closes the door behind her daughter, who stepped out to privately wish her boyfriend goodbye on the front stoop, and turns to Slytherin.

“He seems like a sweet kid,” she smiles. Slytherin follows her into the kitchen with a disgruntled expression. He leans against the countertop as she begins washing the dishes.

“What’s taking her so long,” he eyes the door. “It only takes a couple of seconds to say goodbye to someone.”

“They spent the entire night with us. They probably just want a little alone time,” Hufflepuff replies. She glances at him when he sighs and crosses his arms. “Do I sense a little disdain for our daughter’s boyfriend?”

Slytherin scowls.

“I don’t like him,” he states plainly. “He gives me...bad boy vibes.” His scowl deepens when she laughs incredulously.

“Bad boy vibes?”

“Yes,” he says indignantly. “Bad boy vibes! Did you see his smirk when she laughed at his joke?"

"You smirk a lot,” she points out, to which he grudgingly admits. “Besides, is it bad that he can make her laugh?"

"'Course not," he huffs. "But did you see how he put his arms around her?”

"I'm pretty sure that's called a hug, honey."

Slytherin steps between her and the sink. She shoots him a look as water drips on the floor.

“Please get out of my way, Slytherin. You’re acting like a child.”

He takes her hands into his own, not caring that they’re wet. “Honey, you’re not listening to me.”

“I am! I just don’t agree with you.” She continues before Slytherin can object. “You’re worrying over nothing. Our daughter is old enough to make her own decisions on who she hangs out with and what she does with her time."

“She’s only in her seventh year—”

“Slytherin," she says sternly. “Our baby is grown now, believe it or not. I trust her judgment. You should too.”

His brows furrow, and he doesn’t respond right away.

"It's not that I don't trust her," he finally says. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Hufflepuff softens in this rare moment of vulnerability—his grumpiness and frustration often mask his fears.

"We can't control what happens," she says gently. "We can't control who does what or who hurts who. But what we can control is what we do and how we act." Slytherin remains silent as he considers her words. "I think the best thing we can do is support our daughter. And if things don't end well in their relationship, she will know who to come to: the people who have always been there for her."

Her words sink in, and Slytherin nods.

"You're right."

"'Course I'm right."

He smiles somberly. "I’ve only ever wanted to protect her."

"You will," she assures, pulling him into an embrace. "But you will do so at a healthy and reasonable distance. No threatening the boy."

Slytherin snorts and says, "I'm not that type of dad." He rests his chin on top of her head. "But if he breaks her heart, I keep no promises."

"Good," she murmurs into his shirt. “I'll be right behind you.”

Their moment of peace is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. They see their daughter, Giselle, standing by the doorway with a flushed grin.

"Hey kiddo," Slytherin smiles.

She makes a face. “I'm 18, Dad. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Alright." Hufflepuff notices a familiar gleam in his eye and tries not to smile as he continues. "Do you prefer muffin? Sweet pea? Or perhaps cupcake—"

Giselle covers her ears. "Dad!" she groans. "Eat a cracker and stop."

He holds his hands up in defeat as he chuckles. "Okay, okay."

"So," Hufflepuff says once things settle down. "What did Dorian think? Did he like us? What about the food? Was my cooking okay?" A look of horror washes over her face. "Oh shoot, should we have given him some leftovers to take back to his family? He probably didn't get too far, I'll go get the food from the fridge and—"

"Honey," Slytherin laughs, resting his hand on the small of her back before she can scurry off in search of tin foil and plastic containers. "It's fine."

"Yeah," Giselle assures. "The food was great, and he loved meeting you guys."

"And we loved meeting him,” Hufflepuff says warmly. “Tell Dorian he's welcome to come back at any time."

"Okay," she grins. "Can we start our movie night now?"

Slytherin nods. "I believe it's Mom's turn to choose the movie."

"I know exactly what we should watch tonight," Hufflepuff beams. They pile onto the couch, and when she puts the disc into the DVD player, everyone but Hufflepuff's face falls when they see the title.

"Aw, not this movie," Giselle complains. "We watched the trailer last week, and you said it yourself that it looked like trash."

"Wha—I didn't say trash!"

"I think you did," Slytherin interjects. He stifles a laugh when she shoots him a look.

Hufflepuff purses her lips. "Ravenclaw and I watched it at the movie theaters a few days ago, and it was a cinematic masterpiece!"

He arches an eyebrow. "So you're gonna watch it again?"

"Yes! Because it’s that good. And I want you guys to watch it with me. The movie has adventure and plot twists and romance—I mean, what hurts more than a broken heart?"

"A severed head," Giselle replies, to which Slytherin snorts a laugh.

Hufflepuff scoffs and shakes her head, but a smile tugs at her lips. “You’ll see what I’m talking about after we watch it, but I need to use the bathroom first. I’ll bring back some popcorn.”

“Can you also get some Sprite?” Giselle calls after her.

“Okay.” Hufflepuff lingers by the doorway. “Do you want anything, sweetie pie?” she says to Slytherin.

“No thanks, snuggle bunny.” He snickers when Giselle visibly cringes. He and Hufflepuff liked to call each other outrageously sweet pet names in front of their daughter for the sole purpose of grossing her out.

“Yes,” Giselle says in a deadpan voice. “This is the exact spot I want to be in right now.”

Hufflepuff laughs and winks at Slytherin before leaving. He watches her walk away before whispering to Giselle, “How likely is it that she’ll accidentally trap herself in the bathroom and we get to pick another movie?”

“Extremely likely,” she replies. “If we put a rubber item underneath the door to act as a door stopper, she won’t be able to open it from the inside…” Slytherin is looking at her weirdly, and she swallows her words. “...I mean, I don’t know.”

Slytherin smiles but doesn’t say anything. Giselle may have inherited her mother’s looks, but she has her father’s mischief.

While they wait for Hufflepuff, Slytherin speaks. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure,” she says cautiously.

“Do you love him?”

Her eyebrows rise—she didn’t expect this question. She takes a moment to think.

"Not yet.”

He nods. "But you're happy?"

"I am," she smiles.

His eyes crinkle. If she was happy…well, that was good enough for him.

“I’m glad, kiddo.”

This time, Giselle doesn’t roll her eyes at the term of endearment. Instead, she takes his hand and squeezes it three times. Slytherin, who taught her the gesture, squeezes her hand four times in response.

“Who’s ready to start the movie?” Hufflepuff walks in with popcorn and sprite, unaware of the father-daughter moment she just missed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Slytherin sighs, scooting over to make space for her. She plops down beside him and settles the bowl between them.

“Oh,” she perks up. “Before I forget. Accio tissue boxes!”

Slytherin looks bewildered as tissue boxes come flying their way. “Do we really need tissues?”

“Absolutely,” she scatters the boxes over their laps. Slytherin raises an eyebrow and glances over at Giselle, who also looks perplexed.

“My teen angst bullshit is about to have a body count,” she whispers as the movie begins playing.

A/N: This fic is somewhat connected to Different Love Languages, another one of my fics. Is the slytherpuff couple in that fic the same couple in this one? That's up to you, dear reader😌

I lowkey hate the title, but I couldn't come up w a better one. Also, this fic was longer than I planned. I originally decided to write something like this:

“Why don’t you like him?”

“Because I used to be a bad boy, which is exactly why I don’t trust him.”

Basic dialogue, plain and simple. But the darling anon who told me their idea deserves a full-length story <3

Let me know what you thought of this one-shot. Feedback makes me happy <3 If you prefer to stay anonymous, the anon option for asks is available! Be safe and well, everyone.

Tag lists are open✨ Let me know via ask/messages/comments if you want to be added or removed.

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[letsdotarot]

Hello! How are you doing? I'm here for a reading :)

I'm having trouble keeping up with my studies and I'm lacking in my job. I've been thinking exactly what question to ask and I can think of many but I can't pick just one to settle with... So, instead I'll ask: any advice?

Ace of Wands, Page of Pentacles, 2 of Wands Rx, final outcome – Death, Bottom of the deck – The Magician Rx

The Magician reverse at the bottom of the deck is your present state indicating confusion and lack of energy. It shows you are exploring what you wish to manifest, but you are not taking action yet. You are uncertain if you have everything you need and may be unsure about how to make it happen. It can be a sign that you are struggling to see progress or success. The cards are offering you advice, but not sure how much you’ll be able to follow it. All four cards are indicating the same thing – to find a new inspiration. Switching your subjects or your job would be the best option, but if that is not possible then finding a new source of stimulation is the next best alternative. With AoW as the very first card there’s a good possibility that you already have an idea or a thought in mind. This card is advising you to take a bold action and act on your idea. As a situation, AoW indicates potential or unharnessed energy. As an action, this card is saying that you should harness the energy that's available to you and use it. Because with PoP as the next card, you most definitely have a solid idea in your mind, or else, you very soon are about to get it. It represents the passion you feel for what really interests you. To get better at anything, you have to work at it. When your interests become "work," it can be easy to forget why you used to love it. If you don't remind yourself what you love about the work you do, your morale can quickly sink. In order to reclaim your passion, remind yourself what initially made you passionate about this pursuit in the first place.

The above is very important because 2oW reversed indicates the fear of making the wrong choice and almost letting yourself be talked out of your planned action. This card more than anything solidifies my belief that you already have something in mind but are just afraid to choose that idea over the traditional education/career route that you’ve been going. It represents obsessive planning and thinking about future events that you don’t have control over. This card indicates that you may have to stop hoping, planning, wishing, dreading, or obsessing about a future that is not here yet. The truth is the future that you are spending so much energy on planning to the minutest detail will probably not resemble your plan completely anyway. Nature has a way of breaking rules we try to impose. Do the task in front of you with excellence and let go of the worries that are out of your control. Because with the Death as the final outcome card, I most definitely see a much awaited, long overdue end coming up. Whether this is the end of your worries, your apathy, or the end of your traditional education – only you can confirm. With this end, a new beginning is also guaranteed. And I hope this new beginning is what you’ve been waiting for such a long time. Hope this reading makes some sense to you. Do let me know your thoughts. Thanks for dropping by. Wish you a great day ahead.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Response to an ask from Ophelia:

(this is the rant/vent one)

I'm going to try to be vague in my response because I don't know how much of the information you've shared you're comfortable with others knowing and my posts are public even if I cut out the ask, so it's just a precaution. Also, I've said it before and I'll say it again: you are allowed to vent and rant in my inbox; you do not need to apologize. I have given you permission and you are welcome in my inbox at anytime for any reason!

(and thank you for the content warning)

I'm sorry that you went through that, as it sounds like it really sucks. Those kinds of things especially out of nowhere are so frustrating, but I'm very very glad that you are okay. At least I'm hoping you're okay. If there is anything I can do to be there for you or to help please tell me. If you need to talk or to vent or anything, I will do my very best.

I also really hope that more options become available to you, as it sounds like what there is now really isn't working. I don't have a lot of experience in that area or know how any of it works, but from what you describe it seems like where you're at you're stuck in a loop because what's available isn't beneficial for you and what might be isn't available. And that can make it very easy to feel hopeless and like nothing will change.

I think I understand what you mean by being tired. It's like there's never a break and things keep happening and they keep getting worse and it'll never stop long enough for you to catch your breath. And because you never get a break it's harder to continue and it's a cycle that builds on itself and you just. want it to stop. If that's the kind of tired that you're talking about, I've been there too. And it sucks. A lot. I don't know if I can say anything that'll mean anything to you, but I do want you to know that it isn't forever. It tricks you into thinking that, that you'll never get out of it and will continue down into eternity and so you should just give up now, but that's not true. It is not permanent. No matter how hopeless it feels. And you've probably heard that a million times or even more, but maybe if enough people say it that's because it has merit.

I'm sorry to hear about the daydreaming. It's awful when something you like or rely on suddenly gets different results and you can't use it the same way. Engaging in things is definitely difficult when you're stuck in that kind of low, especially if you're just relying on yourself and don't have medication. I'm going to object to their being nothing left to try, though. I think life is like a big game of tetris, constantly trying to fit pieces into spaces it doesn't seem like they'll ever go. But just because right now things aren't fitting doesn't mean there isn't a solution. I know you probably don't want to keep trying, or that you don't have the energy for optimism, but I can do part of that for you until you can do it for yourself! That's what friends are for, covering and filling in for each other and helping each other get back on their feet! I can be the optimist for now, because I have complete faith that you will make it through this and you will be okay. You'll find things you like and want to do them, you'll find something that works, and you'll be okay.

Insomnia sucks, so I'm sorry you're dealing with that. I've had mild insomnia before, but nothing as bad as what you're describing. But from what I did/do have I know it's so frustrating when your body won't cooperate. Just laying there wanting to sleep but your body refuses no matter how tired you are. I don't have experience with the other things you mentioned, but I know you're not alone and that there are other people who can offer advice or tips on dealing with it. I know you said that you don't have the patience anymore after so many years, but you can borrow some of mine. However that would work. My point is you may be tired but I'm not yet, and I want to help you if I can. Like the buddy system but for life.

Also I have to correct you on one thing: i do worry about you. I do care about you. Yes, I respond to things analytically, but that's how I worry and care. I want you to be okay and I want you to be happy because you're my friend and you're important to me. You don't have to apologize for saying things and sending asks because I like interacting with you and hearing from you. And i'm not going to stop worrying about you because I'm not going to stop caring about you. I want the best for you because you have worth and value. You are important to me, and please don't try and object to that because that is my decision to make. I have decided you're an important person in my life and I'd like for you to continue being in my life, and me in yours if you'd like me to be in it.

You're not a downer and you don't need to apologize. I hope you're okay, and I'm glad you're here. I like having you here. And yes, I'm going alright. Was occupied with a school project I over complicated for myself and have a quiz tomorrow, but I'm alright. I hope you will be, too. I believe you will be, even if it takes time.

As for the uquiz, I wasn't able to work on it much due to said project and other things keeping me busy, but I got to do a little and it was very fun. i have no clue what I'm doing but I look forward to sharing it regardless. executive dysfunction has definitely been a pain though, but I'll figure it out.

All of this to say that I care about you a lot and am incredibly grateful you're here, and thank you for trusting me with all this. I really like talking to you and having you in my life and sharing our experiences with each other, and I hope to continue to do that! If I could, I would be giving you a hug right now. Or if you don't like hugs then some other form of affection. I love you (/p)

[hotchley]

hey sumayyah! i saw your sign!! I'm writing the JJ & Emily parts of the really out of the blue and shitty mini-whatever it is 💀 and hopefully I'll figure out how to shorten it or something lmaoo

but i wanted to come here and talk for awhile i guess

it's like, 2am where i am right now and I'm just so drained mentally like idk i can't seem to focus on getting all my work done (school work) and i just submitted a fake corrupted file to pass off as my homework because i haven't been able to finish it (it's not graded or anything it's just 2 biology practice papers for revision for the upcoming exam but they're really long & biology is not my strong subject......)

like I'm 60-70% done on both papers and yeah i feel so bad for doing what i did and i am still planning on finishing those 2 papers (both as legitimate practice/revision & just in case my teachers do check and decide to ask me to resubmit/send them the file through another channel) and idk i obviously can't really talk to any one in school about this so i came here.... sorry for this bout of negativity i just feel so drained inside and it's not even the first time.... I'm on my break right now (mid years break) but my break is ending in roughly 4-5 more days? and I've felt unmotivated and horrible throughout the entire break idk :/ idk if this is just burn out or something else.... I've been planning on finding a therapist/professional to talk to? but 1. i can't exactly do it "openly" because i come from a rather conservative family and mental health issues (& sexuality etc) aren't things we talk about in my family.... and 2. I'm still a full-time student & I'm not sure of what services are available + the costs and all the other concerns? so like idk I'm not even sure where to start :(

and because I've been feeling like cr*p most of the time the last 3 weeks, I've done absolutely nothing & so i have TONS of school assignments piled up (those that were due during the break I've finished (somehow lmao) and submitted, but those that are due AFTER the break when school reopens.... i have completely not touched) & the worst thing is I'm not even entirely sure what's my entire workload.... so i definitely have to start seriously getting my work done from tomorrow (technically today) onwards.... but like i genuinely have a hard time focusing on work and I'm not sure if it's just my issues with procrastination or if i have a genuine illness or something and i don't want to self diagnose so I've been trying to not think about this but lately it's been so hard because i can't even finish my work on time and exams are coming and it's just really affecting me? and it's getting worse? i don't even have anyone i can truly talk to about this irl too and SKDJSKSNS idk 😭😭

i am SO SORRY for all the negativity!!!!! i just felt so alone and really had to vent somewhere i am so sorry, feel free to delete this ask if you're uncomfortable 🥺

i hope you're having a much better day/night and i love you ❤️ your blog (& cm Tumblr) is really giving me hope & keeping me alive, if i can put it that way 🥺♥️♥️ thank you for being you, and thank you for simply existing. I'm sorry things got so depressing all of a sudden lmao I'll be fine (eventually, probably)

- 🌙

I feel like my answer got long, so I put it under the cut :)

YAY!

Also, I did see this when you initially sent it, but I'm working on boundaries and priorities, which is why I didn't answer it then- I just needed a break <3

Look, you're learning during a pandemic that has disrupted everything and caused a lot of pain and stress. One corrupted file does not make you a bad student. You're still going to try.

There were so many days during lockdown where I just... didn't submit any work, and then I would submit it later saying the thing broke- which seemed believable because the thing we used never functioned properly.

And we cannot be happy or perfect all the time. Sometimes we need to share our problems. I have always said you can talk to me, it just may take me a few days depending on my own situation, and I stand by that.

Sometimes breaks just make us more miserable. Sometimes it is just genuinely a phase that you will snap out of. Sometimes it isn't. Either way, you need to let yourself feel this. Don't try and bury it. That'll be worse.

So when it comes to therapists, if you've been thinking of seeing one, go for it. Chances are, it'll help.

I get what you mean. I don't know what it's like where you are, but in England, everyone over 16 has control over the medical stuff. That basically means your parents cannot be told what you're doing, and you can do things without their knowledge. If I wanted to make an appointment, I wouldn't need to tell them I was making it, or what was discussed. Neither can the doctors.

I asked one of my friends (I have consent to share this), and she said that she went through the BetterHelp website, and that it's really helping her. Now I know BetterHelp had some real serious problems, so I would be cautious, but that is one option. Hers is between £50-£60 a session, but there were cheaper options.

You could also go through your school!! My school has what is called a "well-being practitioner" who you can just go and see when you're feeling down, and it all remains confidential UNLESS they think intervention is needed. So you could see if there are any sessions they do, or if there's any help you can get from them :)

I have seen SO, SO many teachers on TikTok recently say two things: ask them for help if you need it, and they will give it, and just do something. I don't know what you're teachers are like, but they're probably stressed and burnt out too. If you need an extension or a break or help, they'll do their best.

And if you can't do everything, then just do one thing. Do your favourite subject, or the easiest thing. I know people say do the hardest thing first because then everything gets easier, but the one time I did that, I started crying and I gave up for a good three days so...

If you've done extensive research, then maybe it is something, and if you think that there is that, then you should try and get tested <3 and it's okay if there really is nothing. Sometimes brains are weird

You don't ever have to apologise for being human <3 Remember how I mentioned crying for twenty minutes to my history teacher? I said the same thing to him: that I feel bad talking about these things because everyone has their own problems. His response was: well yes, but there are so many people that want to help you. And they would tell you if you were being a burden.

You need to trust that. And it's hard. It's painful. It's difficult. But I promise you, telling someone will always be better than bottling it up- and this comes from the person that was pissed for six weeks because I got a phone call home from someone higher up because previously mentioned history teacher told them that I was not doing great

I love you too!!

And sometimes life gets you down! That's okay! Things will get better! Maybe this isn't healthy, but my thing is: things will work out, and things will get better because they need to, and I refuse to believe I am living a life where they won't.

You will be fine! I have every faith in you!!

[solarbird]

What do you know, this does have a chapter two!

Amélie Lacroix used to be the Widowmaker. She's not, anymore. Talon is gone, and the threat is over. But few if any governments are really willing to forgive a known terrorist with dozens - no, hundreds - of kills under her belt, so coming in from the cold wasn't really an option.

But one has to make a living somehow. A lot of the same skills used to infiltrate for assassination work just as well for other kinds of infiltration, and Amélie always did have an eye for spotting value in art.

[ao3 link]

The Queen's Toaster Chapter 2: The Bird Wives

The dark-haried woman took off her Raptora helmet, and shook her head, short hair immediately spiking up, as it always did.

Flying in this is so different, she thought, to flying a jet.

She looked down at the armoured helmet with its beak-like visor and grinned at herself. It may not be the same as a jet, but flying in it brought her even more of a rush, with so little between her and the wind, and the clouds - and the anti-aircraft fire, too.

Grabbing a cleaning kit and a towel, she wiped the helmet clean, dried it, and ran the towel through her own hair for good measure.

That won't do, I need a shower! she thought. But it'll wait 'til I get home.

The base showers didn't bother with hot water. Lukewarm from the ground was good enough, unless she had the option of better, and she did.

She'd just about finished flight training, at long last. Since the end of Talon had meant a second end for Overwatch - at least, for a while - she'd had to do something with her life. And sure, Helix might not be the same, but having regular income again helped make up for it.

That, and the other benefits.

I wonder if these come in orange?

She popped the helmet into her locker, and started dismantling the rest of her armour, pulling it off piece by piece, for storage and overnight checkout before next flight.

"Oh, please - take your time," she heard from the disarmament station behind her. "It's far too nice a job to rush."

Lena spun 'round, surprised, and jinked forward, past two benches. "You're back! Already?!"

Angela grinned, and kissed her younger wife's forehead as she leapt into her arms. "Yes!"

Lena wasn't settling for that, not under any circumstances, and hopped up on her toes, to give her elder wife a proper kiss. "Fuck, I've missed you. Where's Reeha?"

"Talking with your instructor. She'll be here any moment now."

Lena pulled Angela against her, holding her tightly. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Lena. We both have."

The Englishwoman leaned back, smiling broadly, hands on her wife's hips. "How was the conference? How's Winston? How's eep!"

"Come here, tiny wife!" Fareeha said, hauling Lena bodily up into the air as Lena shrieked, giggling, teleporting just to turn in place, not wanting out of her younger wife's arms, but definitely wanting to see her face to face.

"Reeha!"

The two women kissed, as Angela smiled at the sight.

"Your instructor had good things to say - except for your tendency to teleport your way out of trouble."

"And why shouldn't I? 'Use every tool at your disposal,' first rule of combat, you know that." She grinned.

Fareeha licked Lena's nose. "'Don't get into trouble in the first place' is the real first rule of combat, and you know that."

"Yeh, yeh..." She sighed, and put her head down on Reeha's shoulder. "Fuck me, I've missed you so much."

"I will! But not on base."

Lena bit at Fareeha's neck, and Ree snorted, dropping Lena to the ground. "Finish getting undressed first. And shower here. We're taking you out to dinner before going home."

"Oh, are we? I thought we were gonna get some overdue R&R?"

"You have to finish flight training, Captain," Fareeha replied. "But consider this a downpayment. Undress and shower, and be ready to go in five minutes. That's an order."

"Aye-aye, Colonel." Captain Oxton saluted her wife in the most sarcastic way she knew how, and hopped to.

They'd gone straight from their all-too-short honeymoon to a deployment to two separate conferences and training, so there was no way in hell she was going to be late for this.

-----

"She get there?" read the purple text.

"Oh yeah, she got there," Emily typed in reply, in orange text, sitting at her desk in her small office.

Amélie sat out in the living room, on a couch, communicating with her buyer, confirming acquisition and arranging alternate delivery for the package.

"Right where you said she'd be, too. _And_ about to set off an alarm."

"Thanks for picking her up for me," came the purple hacker's reply. "It's not my story to tell, but"

Emily interrupted, the shared cursor turning orange as she typed. "You saying that is hilarious, you do realise, yeh?"

The cursor blinked for a moment, before turning back to purple.

"Yes. It is. I know. But seriously, she's been through a lot. And she was totally going to get busted sooner or later, and I knew it, even if I didn't know how or where All her infiltration training is based around range work. Close up, she has some, but not as much. But she had to deliver on this job, and... well... I had to make sure it happened."

"I know, I know. What's a favour for a friend? Besides, she's _smokin'_ hot. Totally worth it."

"I told you!"

"You told me, but you didn't _tell_ me, luv. Oh god, it's all I can do to keep my hands off her. But then I'd 'find out' about her too early, and... if she's she who I think she is..."

"I didn't tell you," insisted purple.

"You really didn't," assured orange. "But I'm pretty sure I know."

"Then... in that case..."

"Yeh."

Emily shook out her hands. C'mon, girl. Keep it in your trousers. If I'm right, she's one very hot property.

She looked over at the apparently-black-haired woman whose artificial skin colourant wasn't quite enough to keep a blue tinge entirely at bay in the cloudy daylight.

This is going to be tricky enough as it is. You've laid the table, now just let her decide whether she wants to bite.

"Still - if what you actually will tell me is true," she started typing, in orange.

"It is," purple text interrupted.

"...then hey, maybe you won't owe me one. Maybe I'll owe _you_."

"Now _that_," a glowing purple sugar skull replied, "is what I like to hear."

-----

The newlyweds smiled at each other, leaning back in their chairs, relaxing as the dinner plates were cleared, the dessert course ordered but not yet at the table, the three of them sipping tea, qahwah arabiyya, and abricotine, according to their tastes.

Lena wasn't sure exactly when she'd developed her fondness for abricotine, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with joint testimony to the UN in Geneva - or, much more specifically, when she'd had to share quarters with Fareeha and Angela the whole week. Athena had apologised, calling it an 'accidental oversight,' but at least the one bed was a full king. Hana never let any of them hear the end of it, all while stridently denying being the RPF shipper whose name translated from the Korean meant SoManyBunnies.

Despite what everyone at Gibraltar assumed, they didn't start being "a thing" there - but they had become surprisingly comfortable with each other, very quickly. The actual "thing" would start not long afterwards, the three of them hunkered down in the desert, Fareeha wounded but not in any real danger, waiting for extraction after a successful but extremely difficult mission in the Sudan.

They'd a critical hidden Talon information relay and communications centre deep in the Nubian Desert, on desperately-useful information provided by the Widowmaker herself. At first, all three of them thought of that night as a one-off - the stress of battle will do that, after all - but then there was a dinner, and they found they had so much to talk about, then another dinner, and then an after dinner, and...

Well.

Lena's phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her pocket, hoping it wasn't a callback for mission. Talon may be gone, but Helix's work was never done, not with Vishkar out there, and tensions still high between omnics and humanity, and O'Deorain still on the loose, and more.

But instead, purple text reported Package delivered, and the teleporter smiled, before looking up to her curious wives.

"Is it...?" Fareeha asked, hopefully, as Angela looked to Lena, expectantly.

"She's home," Lena replied, relief in her voice.

"Oh good," Angela said, letting go of a little bit of tension she hadn't been fully aware she carried. "I hope this works out. She's been through so much."

"Yeh," Lena agreed, while replying, "Brilliant. Thank you ❤," and putting her phone away. "She really has."

"So have we," Fareeha noted, having mostly forgiven, but entirely not forgot.

"Yes," Angela said, reaching out and holding her taller wife's hand. "Too much."

"It's in the past," Fareeha insisted, squeezing Angela's hand.

"Not for all of us," Lena replied, as dessert arrived. "Particularly not for her."

"No," Fareeha agreed, after a moment. "I suppose not."

"Still, though," Angela said, "she's in... well. I'm not going to say good hands..."

Fareeha chuckled. "No."

"But," Angela continued, "given everything, probably the best available."

"Give 'er more credit than that, love," Lena said, putting aside her apricot eau-de-vie before picking up a piece of the feteer meshaltet, and dipping it into the lovely black honey served on the side. "It's probably the best chance she'll get."

"For your sake," Fareeha smiled, affectionately, choosing the white honey and cream, as Angela chose, in turn, the soft cheese, "...I'll hope you're right."

[dxmedstudent]

I've been wondering this awhile but after your frank discussions about illness, I felt comfortable enough to reach out. During my period, I feel suicidal and it's been getting worse as I get older; when I'm not on my period, I dont have any of those urges. Is it because of the hormones or the pain? What I'm most worried about is that it'll get even worse later on and I'll actually do something when I'm in that mindset.

Oh, honey. That sounds so exhausting, I wish I could give you a hug or a pat on the back. I’m so sorry you have to go through that, and I’m going to do my best to give you all the information I can. It’s not you, you’re not crazy. This is a real thing, and you don’t need to suffer alone. Most people have heard of PMS - premenstrual syndrome (also known as PMT). It’s a collection of symptoms; some physical and some mental, that most women experience before (or during) their period. Most women (about 75%) experience PMS to some degree; before or during their period. It can be pretty intense; even women without the severe form can feel pretty down or tearful or anxious etc. The RCOG has some tips on how to manage PMS, but many of us just do the best we can to get by. There ARE treatments, though, so I want you to think about whether you would like to go to your doctor to get diagnosed. If someone’s existing condition (say, anxiety, depression, or something else) gets worse around their period, we might term it a premenstural exacerbation; and that can happen, too. But some people just get these feelings around the time of their period. For example, life is definitely harder for some of my friends with depression when their period comes around. What you’re describing sounds to me like it might be a severe form of PMS called PMDD. People with PMDD can experience severe depressive or other mental symptoms, including feeling suicidal aroud the time of their period. This is a particularly good website from Mind, the mental health charity. MIND also have a PDF booklet on it that is pretty good. It’s got stories from people going through the same thing, tips for who to call if you feel suidical in the UK, and it links to tips for how to cope with suicidal thoughts. I think it’ll be really useful for you. Here’s another personal blog from someone else, on the Mental Health Foundation website.

 Although they affect our mental health, PMS and PMDD are defined as endocrine disorders (disorders of the hormones), because we believe that the hormones are behind these drastic changes. There’s thought to be a genetic element to who gets the severe forms; it doesn’t mean someone is weaker or more irrational if their PMS is worse; how bad your symptoms are has nothing to do with your strength. We can’t fight our way out of an illness.That is not weakness; rather, living with an illness requires a strength few people realise. I know that you must have been trying very hard to deal with your symptoms for a long time, and I know that you are stronger than you realise. Reach out to people. Talk to people you trust; pleae don’t suffer alone. If you are feeling suicidal and worry you may do something, reach out to the Samaritans, or helplines available where you are. And please talk to a doctor; there are treatment options available. If they don’t listen, if they dismiss you as a woman, find another doctor. Don’t let anyone tell you this is what periods do, and this is something you have to put up with.

I hope things get better for you, and I’m sorry that you have to deal with so much every month.

Before I end this reply, I want to talk about PMS.

I know that someone out there is probably reading this thinking “LOL isn’t PMS just women being angry bitches?”. PMS is pretty stigmatised because people associate periods with being ‘emotional’ or ‘irrational’, however that’s because historically society has tried to discredit women’s opinions. Rather than understand why someone might be upset or frustrated, it’s much easier to just say they are out of control and leave it at that because it absolves you of having to work out how you are exacerbating the situation. There’s this image in the public sphere of women blowing up over nothing whilst their bemused male partners or family or friends have no idea what’s going on. When someone is suffering, whether that is with a bad day, PMS or mental health problems, what they need is sympathy and a kind ear, not stigma and judgement and having their feelings discounted. It’s actually pretty hard to discuss PMS because there will always be some utter pile of snot out there on the internet who argues that women are irrational and emotional and incapable of controlling their emotions and who will pointedly miss the entire point no matter what you do.

Women with symptoms aren’t pulling their grievances out of nowhere; they get upset by things that are frustrating. However just like when you’re really tired or hungry or have had a really bad day, our resilience and the magnitude of those feelings can vary considerably. Someone with PMS isn’t ‘crazy’, whether they have mental health problems or not. They are just dealing with a lot more than usual, and are often exhausted and at the end of their tether, and therefore their response to the situation reflects that. How they act isn’t irrational; it’s what feels like the best response to the circumstances at the time. It’s actually pretty scary having PMS sometimes; because the feelings you get can be overwhelming and intense. When you’re that low and vulnerable, your usual coping mechanisms and inner CBT and voice of reason just don’t work as well, so it can feel like you’re riding out a storm on your own (with the physical symptoms of PMS or your period, for maximum frustration). Personally, My PMS varies every month, but it’s frustrating when you know you’re having a big response to something that you can normally deal with (or reassure yourself about) well, or normally isn’t a big deal for you. I’d go as far as to say for me it goes beyond anxieties to intrusive thoughts. I might logically know my friends don’t hate me, I’m not gonna get dumped, my life isn’t terrible and I’m not a terrible doctor, or whatever that thought is, but that doesn’t stop the intensity of the focus when you’re in that upset frame of mind.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT ONE

And if that is the future, and the result is what we can't say: to look at the options available now, and they're all trying not to use words like fuck and shit within baby's hearing, lest baby start using these words too. Most imaginative people seem to miss most is the lack of time. But as a founder your incentives are different. I'm not claiming of course that every startup has to go to a school that didn't improve their admissions prospects. They just try to notice quickly when something already is winning. I invented a model of the world in 587, the Chinese system was very enlightened. Especially when they excuse laziness. If that's true of Boston, it's even more true of every other city. It's oddly nondeterministic.1 But Occam's razor suggests the truth is less flattering. Startup investors know that every investment is a bet, and against pretty long odds. Facebook seemed a good idea with competitors than a bad one.

I finally figured it out. You'll see when you start doing this though: you're trying to do the same thing I say to startups in the US are auto workers, schoolteachers, and civil servants, who are too mature to pick on nerds than there are nerds. The important thing is to be able to improve the accuracy of Bayesian spam filters by having them follow links to see what's waiting at the other end seems especially far away. Are there better ways to solve them? The best way to discover startup ideas is not think up but notice. Why haven't we just been measuring actual performance? Yes.2 One of the MROSD trails runs right along the fault. Most people I know have problems with Internet addiction. Because they don't think it's fitting that kids should use the whole language.

In either case you let yourself get far downwind of good places to land, your options narrow uncomfortably. It's not that hard to do what adults tell me all day long. How do you find users to recruit manually? You need to figure out why it's worth investing in, you have to do all three. But if you look, there are so many things you can't say? How do we get at these ideas? Life in this twisted world is stressful for the kids. I do for my privat satisfaction or leave to come out after me. If that was what character and integrity because they had been so debased by adults. The person who needs something may not know exactly what to build because you'll have muscle memory from doing it yourself.

Whereas a PhD dissertation is extremely unlikely to.3 You're on the right track, then you only have to find your peers, which is like a sort of Valley within the Valley, considering how close it is. Around the age of eleven, though, is that my m. And by convince yourself, then convince them.4 It's no coincidence that Microsoft and Facebook both got started in January. It's an unusual thing to do, rather than whether it's going to succeed. They always get things wrong. But talking about looking explicitly for waves makes it clear that such recipes are plan B for getting startup ideas. This conference was in London, and most towns don't save them.5 And even to the winners.6 Or at least, so it seems like the right thing to do, but it's where the trend points now. And both are good bets for growth: cheap things spread faster, and when a new approach arrives, you may as well cast a wider net and derive what benefit you can from similarities between fields.

He must have been changing here. Made-up startup ideas tends to produce bad ones, you still count as a great writer—or at least embodies, present taboos. Well, you can think instead That's an interesting idea, you can compete with specialization by working on larger vertical slices, you can increase how much you make, and you don't have to know in high school, my friend Rich and I made a map of the school lunch tables according to popularity.7 All they care about. Not all of them. The Pebbles assembled the first several hundred watches themselves. Airbnb into the astonishingly successful organism it is now. There must be things you need. If I were talking to a guy four feet tall whose ambition was to play in the NBA, I'd feel pretty stupid saying, you can compete with specialization by working on larger vertical slices, you can create an enemy if there isn't a real one. Misrule breeds rebellion; this is not a business where you make money by screwing people over.8 This should be the highest goal for the marginal, who retain the advantages of outsiders while increasingly being able to solve it.

But if you order results by bid multiplied by transactions, far from selling out, you're getting a better measure of relevance. And when Jobs found someone to give Apple serious venture funding, on the other is the sea—which because it's cold and foggy and has few harbors, plays surprisingly little role in the lives of people in the future and build what's missing into something even better: Live in the future and build what seems interesting. The initial reaction to Y Combinator. It's always worth asking if there's a subset of the market, but with a slow sales cycle. I was mulling over these remarks it struck me how familiar they seemed. They just need something to chase. Startup founder is not the thing itself, but what it leads to. Instead of waiting to be implemented. It's an unusual thing to do, make something. It's hard to get an accurate picture of most jobs.

Outsiders are free of all this. It doesn't sound obviously mistaken. But that is at this point not just how to avoid the worst pitfalls of consulting. I could be 100% sure that's not a description of HN. Suburbs are deliberately designed to exclude the outside world, because it reflects a model of the world. Their investors agree. Like a contrarian investment fund, someone following this strategy will almost always be doing things that don't scale that we call pulling a Meraki. Just start listing ideas at random? And in addition to the cost of compliance, which is at least two million dollars a year. Writers now deliberately write things to draw traffic from aggregators—sometimes even specific ones. You keep the IP and no billing by the hour—they expect you to collect all that money, but in 1985 the sight of a 25 year old professional able to afford a new BMW was so novel that it called forth a new word. Another way to figure out which of our taboos future generations will laugh at is to start with.

So if you're an outsider, take advantage of your ability to make small and inexpensive things. Some good stuff happens this way, because now that there are two ways to pass them: to be good at hacking the test itself. How much does an angel invest? Six months later they're all saying the same thing. Most of what the VCs add, acquirers don't want anyway. And yet when I was in high school, they nearly all say the same thing to them. But if you're thinking about that initially, it may inhibit you from thinking improper thoughts. There must be things you need. Most people could see how it turns out you can do. The word aptitude is misleading, because it implies you're supposed to be companies at first. When I interviewed Mark Zuckerberg at Startup School, he said that while it was a good deal of overlap between them. But focus has drawbacks: you don't learn from other fields, and when you do it, first of all, probably, is humor.

Notes

56 million. Even college textbooks are bad news; it is more efficient. This is true of the breach with Rome, where you have more money was the least VC-like. Another advantage of having one founder take fundraising meetings is that they probably don't notice even when I first met him, but as an adult.

And in World War II was in a band, or an acquisition for more than linearly with its size. I've become a problem so far has trained them to stay in a couple days, then promptly improving it. It's worth taking extreme measures to avoid becoming an administrator, or at least prevent your beliefs about how to be the last thing you changed. To get a personal introduction—and in b.

Japanese cities are ugly too, of course it was cooked up by the fact that the payoff for avoiding tax grows hyperexponentially x/1-x for 0 x 1. They may not be to write and deals longer to write in a startup is compress a lifetime's worth of work is not entirely a coincidence, because you can't distinguish between selecting a link and following it; all you'd need to learn to acknowledge, but suburbs are so different from money raised as convertible debt, but we decided it would do for a smooth salesman. Like early medieval architecture, impromptu talks are usually obvious, even though it's at least wouldn't be able to spend, see what the US treat the poor worse than the set of users, not bogus. A fundraising is the same thing twice.

Businesses have to find a kid. That's probably true of nationality and religion as well. Only in a large chunk of stock. 4%?

You can have margins big enough, the Romans didn't mean to imply that the angels are no misunderstandings.

The proportions of OSes are: the editor, written in C and Perl.

Our secret is to imagine that there are no discrimination laws about starting businesses.

Loosely speaking. Well, of the conversion of buildings not previously public, like play in a startup, and partly because they suit investors' interests.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Sam Altman, and Mike Moritz for sparking my interest in this topic.