#realistically the answer is i will go to work like normal and do nothing in particular

[altschmerzes]

oh my gd it's my birthday in three days........ whatever shall i do

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[ippipo]

self aware caleb

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | smutty stuff | part 4 | part 5

"how would you react if i came to your world?"

the question caught you off guard. "where is this coming from?" you ask. "nothing, just wondering," he replies, although you didn't exactly believe him. sure, you hoped he would, but it wasn't realistic.

"now that you ask, i don't think i would be ready," you reply honestly. you don't notice the way his expression drops. "i would be surprised in a good way, of course. but i don't think it's realistic."

"hm," and with that, he remains quiet the entire time. you ask him questions and he replies normally, but he never initiated the conversation for a while.

the next day, he suddenly calls out to you while you were eating. "y/n, i'll be busy for a while. i have some things to take care of," he says, leaving without giving you a chance to reply. strange.

the next few weeks after that were incredibly gloomy. everything happened so fast, you didn't have time to process it. and everything ended even quicker that you didn't get to enjoy the time you had with him. your game wasn't working anymore. caleb wouldn't reply to your texts on the weird number he texted you from. and college kept getting more stressful.

it wasn't until you got some time to yourself after a hectic week. you waltzed into your living room and before you could reach the sofa, you fell onto your knees. after days of holding it in, you realized how much toll it took on your body.

you cupped your face as you tried to stop the burning tears which threatened to come out. soon, those tears turned into painful sobs. you cried out, trying to breath in but your chest was hurting. you missed him so much and you didn't even realize it until now.

caleb had become such a common part of your life in the past six months to the point that his absence feels like you lost a part of yourself. "get it together," you scold yourself, voice quivering as you sobbed uncontrollably. 'what did i do wrong?' you ask yourself.

'everything seemed fine, so what happened now?' the question looming over your mind the entire night till you were too tired and passed out from exhaustion on the floor.

when you woke up after your breakdown, it was around 1 am in the morning. and you slowly started resenting caleb for it. he got you hooked and suddenly left you with no explanations whatsoever.

a notification pops up on your screen, and you were so not in the mood for it. but you decided to reply to it anyway.

ne-andy-thal 👅

babe

you wont believe what just happened

pls wake up i miss u alresdy

plsplsplsplspls

actually ill text u tomorrow morning

i heard the engineering department busted their asses off and roped in other deps too, are u doing alright?

anyways, love u sleep well sorry for disturbing u <3

bitch you just saw my message

answer me tf???

you

hey

i'm not in the mood rn andy

ne-andy-thal 👅

rude??

you

sorry, i'm just going through some stuff

ne-andy-thal 👅

is everything ok bby? what happened??

you

no, things just took a turn and everything is spiralling outta my control

ne-andy-thal 👅

i have some news that might distract u if u wanna listen

its pretty big news

and u wont believe me at first but i have proof too

you

go on

ne-andy-thal 👅

can i come over for this?

ill bring over some ice cream for u to wallow

i have cookies and cream

you

please?

andy bae, did i ever tell you how much i love and cherish you?

ne-andy-thal 👅

never before 😒

but ill accept it now

cuz im such a great friend

you

💋💋💋

ne-andy-thal 👅

ewwww 🤢🤮

you

asshole

come over quick

"you will not fucking believe what just happened," andy comes in with a bang on your front door. you wince at the noise. "honey, calm down, it's 2 am in the fucking morning," you warn before pulling him to your side and hugging him. his warmth giving you the much needed comfort.

"aw my baby, are you alright?" he asks while rubbing your back. you sniffle and answer, "no, everything sucks."

"distract me?" you ask. "alright, yes. so basically, you know the game we play, right?" his words make you frown, remembering caleb. you nod, trying to not let it affect you.

"so, sylus is....sentient," he says with enthusiasm in his tone, completely contradicting your indifferent state. "why are you not excited?" he asks with a glare. "i- well, you know how i just had a breakdown?" you begin, watching him nod.

"that was because there was this whole fiasco where caleb became self aware six months ago, and now he left without saying a word or two," you continue, watching as andy goes through a spectrum of emotions.

"wha- wait, what?!" he gasps loudly, making you wince. "too loud, babe," you say. "right, sorry. but you didn't even care to tell me? your best friend?" his glare intensifies. "sorry.....i just thought you would freak out," you admit with an apologetic smile.

"okay, my feelings aside, let's focus on you first. were you guys dating?" he asks. "no, i don't know what it was, i just knew i had a thing for him a-and now it's all gone," your voice breaks in between. andy pulls you into an embrace before running his hand through your hair, trying to comfort you. it worked like magic.

"i'm so sorry, honey. maybe we could ask sy? only if you want to know. it's totally fine if you want to detach from the whole thing," he suggests, hugging you tighter when he feels a wet spot on his shoulder. "i really want to know."

"alright, then. but let's get you freshened up first, you stink right now," he covers his nose mockingly. you slap his shoulder and laugh. "strange way to thank your amazing friend, but it's okay for today," he huffs.

you take a quick shower and notice that andy put your clothes out. you smile at the action and make a mental note to give him the biggest hug known to mankind before he leaves tomorrow. you wear your clothes and leave your room, only to find a familiar deep voice talking to your best friend.

"she's doing alright, now. all i gotta do now is stop her from finishing both the tubs leaving nothing for me before she gets a sugar rush and destroys me in mario kart," he complains to his phone. a deep chuckle erupts from the phone. "can't believe you're complaining about me to my second favourite character, what a great friend," you roll your eyes at him before settling down next to him, cuddling up to his warmth.

"hi, hope you're feeling better. i just heard what happened," sylus says to you, a smile ghosts over his lips. you shy away from his vision, feeling strange and embarrassed. "she is, she has me, after all," andy pops in between, putting you in a headlock with his slightly muscular arms, choking you in that process.

"a-and-dy, can't b-breathe," you choke out. he quickly removes his hands and hits your back for some reason. "sorry, sorry, sorry. are you okay?" he apologizes frantically. you recover from the lack of oxygen and notice sylus's amused smile, directed towards your friend. you grin internally at the clear display of silent admiration.

andy walks to the refrigerator to get your ice cream and you take it as the perfect opportunity to call out sylus. "keep it in your pants, sylus," you say with a giggle, watching as he turns away while his ears turn red.

"here's your ice cream," andy sings out and places the tub in front of you, ready to be emptied within a few moments. "today i'm gonna introduce you to the worst thing that will ever happen to you, sy," andy says it in an eerily enthusiastic voice. "and that is?" sylus raises a brow.

"the notebook." you snort when you hear andy's words. you really wanted to see sylus cry, for some sick reason. "interesting," he says as his eyes follow andy's movements. the three (two) of you settle down comfortably, wrapped up in a warm blanket and a full tub of happiness along with the most saddest film known to mankind.

you look at your best friend one last time, a fuzzy feeling erupting inside your chest, feeling so fucking grateful you had someone to lean on.

somewhere in the dark in your room, a figure shuffles from its place. a heavy gaze directed towards you and your friend in the living room.

[h0neylevi]

Chapter Two

After a major shift, your life has become a series of monotonous routines. Eat, sleep, go to work, repeat. But when you find a man bleeding on the subway with no idea how he got there, things become anything but ordinary.

General content warnings: isekai/parallel universe, modern AU, mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, some light angst, eventual smut.

chapter warnings: brief discussion of human trafficking

word count: 3.2k

“Where did you find him again?”

“On my way home last night on the subway.”

“... And he was–”

“In the full scout uniform, yeah.”

Your friend and fellow nurse, Allie, pauses in the wake of your words, eyes fixed on the door at the other end of the hall where one of the hospital’s doctors took Levi to be examined.

They’ve been back there for over an hour now, and you’re starting to get nervous. If this goes badly, you’re never going to live it down with your coworkers.

“Is he hot?”

Your jaw hangs when Allie’s words register, and you turn back to her with an incredulous look.

“I told you all that and that’s what you take from it?”

She raises her hands up in a defensive gesture. “I’m just saying, if the universe decided to drop a man into my lap that thought he was Erwin Smith, I would take advantage of the situation.”

That, oddly enough, makes you laugh.

“He isn’t Levi Ackerman,” you say once you’ve calmed down. “He probably just hit his head on the way from a costume party and got confused.”

On the other side of the nurse’s station, Allie groans and gets up. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I’m being realistic,” you defend.

“We see weirder things walk into this hospital every day.”

“I think an anime character come to life would surpass anything we’ve ever seen.”

With a defeated little sigh, she grabs a file and rounds the corner. “Well, whatever he is, I have to get back to work.” She taps the file on your shoulder as she passes. “Have fun with Beyblade. Let me know what Paul says.”

Just as she starts down the corridor, the door at the end of the hall opens and Dr. Paul Holloway exits the exam room. His expression is solemn as he gestures for you to join him.

“Thank you again for doing this on such short notice, Dr. Holloway,” you greet him. “Did you find out anything?”

He looks down for a moment at the clipboard in his hand. “Well, the only thing really to note is that he doesn’t seem to know what year it is or where he is, but all of his tests and scans came back normal. Cognition and reflexes otherwise seem to be just fine.”

He rifles through the pages for a moment before continuing. “There are no drugs in his system, and no significant injuries that I could find that would cause this sort of temporary amnesia, so I would have to refer him out to a specialist if you wanted more answers. But as of now, my only guess could be that maybe he was trafficked and escaped. Possibly in a fugue state for so long that he has no recollection of how he got here.”

You listen intently. That wouldn’t explain the clothes you found him in, but it’s worth considering all the same. Large cities were usually hubs for human trafficking. It’s more likely than Allie’s theory at least.

Dr. Holloway seems to sense your thought process. “He should recover his memories soon, but I would suggest maybe filing a police report. I’m sure he has a family out there somewhere who’s missing him.”

You consider it. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “I’ll mention it. Thanks again, Dr. Holloway.”

“Of course.”

You wait quietly as he opens the exam room door again and beckons Levi out.

He’s just as passive as ever when he sees you waiting. With a departing nod, Dr. Holloway continues down the hall to another exam room.

“So,” you begin, “how are you feeling?”

“Like a test subject,” Levi grumbles, falling into step with you. “Four-Eyes would love this place.”

You turn to look at him. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” he quickly says. “So, are you satisfied now? I can go?”

You walk through the nearby exit door on the side of the building and onto the street.

“Well, Dr. Holloway didn’t find anything wrong, so I guess you’re welcome to go wherever you like,” you say. “But I really think you should go to the police. I think something really bad has happened to you, Levi. They might be able to help you.”

While you speak, Levi looks around, studying the cars as they pass and the tall buildings.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” he sighs. “I think I’m too far from home to go back.”

The recognition that bleeds through his tone makes you curious. “Do you remember where you’re from?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His mouth twists into a frown. “It’s definitely not around here.”

You want to keep pressing but ultimately decide against it. It isn’t as if it’s any of your business, but you feel a sense of responsibility for his well-being. You were the one who found him, and if you have the means to help him get to where he needs to go, you’d be willing to offer. It isn’t as if you’ve got anything else going on in your life, but you can only do so much when he doesn’t want you to pry into his personal life.

“Well...” you trail off, unsure. “I need to get some groceries but once we get back to my place, I can wash your clothes before you leave. That’ll give you some time to decide what you want to do.”

To your surprise, it doesn’t take him long to agree.

“Okay,” he nods. “Let’s go.”

**

The supermarket isn’t far from your apartment, so you get onto the city metro together. It’s a familiar route to you, but it’s clear that Levi isn’t accustomed to the amount of people that cram themselves together into the narrow space at once.

There aren’t any seats when you climb on, so you’re forced to stand together in one of the corner exits. At the very least, Levi remembers to grab onto one of the handrails just before the train starts moving—an action that he still seems to find disgusting despite the necessity.

“What?” you laugh at his pinched expression.

“I think I preferred it the way it was last night,” he remarks, not doing anything to hide his distaste while looking around. “How often do these things get cleaned?”

You blink. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably only when something seriously hazardous happens. Like blood or puke.”

The look on his face only grows.

“Don’t worry. I have sanitizer in my bag. I can give you some when we get off,” you promise. “I never got rid of the habit from covid.”

The way Levi’s brows furrow suggest that he doesn’t know what either of those things are either, but you just shake your head, wordlessly promising to explain later.

Once you’re off the train and back out onto the street, you move to the side to pull the aforementioned bottle out of your bag. Levi watches quietly until you reach and squeeze some of the liquid into his upturned palm.

He lifts it closer to his face. “What is this?”

“It’s sanitizer,” you say, rubbing your hands together. “Just rub it in like this. It kills the germs on your hands that you can get from touching random surfaces.”

He follows your example, albeit a bit more slowly, and you set off again down the street.

The rest of the walk is done mostly in silence. Thankfully, Levi doesn’t seem to mind. He chooses mostly to walk along beside you, occasionally looking up at skyscrapers as you pass them or balk at the occasional interaction on the street. There’s a sense of wonder and curiosity that settles on his face, smoothing out the stern glare that you’ve seen him wear since you first found him on the metro.

It really is like he’s never seen anything like it before, and you wonder again about his history. He doesn’t seem afraid of anything, merely curious as he walks, and he carries himself confidently. Like a soldier…

No, that was Allie influencing your thoughts. There’s no way this man was the Levi Ackerman. Even if he had his hair, his stature, the same sullen expression, and similar mannerisms to ones you’ve seen in the anime. It’s an impossible thought. You’re not even considering it.

“What are you staring at?”

You blink and realize that he’s looking at you now and holy shit, his eyes are even that shade of blue-grey.

You turn forward again just as a crosswalk changes for you to go. “Nothing,” you say quickly. “You just… remind me of someone.”

He doesn’t reply—most likely because he doesn’t care—but you’re grateful that he doesn’t pay it any mind.

But by the time you’ve entered the supermarket and grabbed a cart, your curiosity outweighs your hesitation.

“Can I ask you something?”

Beside you, Levi scans the produce aisle you’re approaching with passive interest. “That depends.”

Ignoring him, you press forward. “Is there some reason you won’t tell me what’s going on?”

You speak and he turns to look at you, his brows furrowed.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious that there’s more to what happened than you’re letting on,” you continue. “And I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“You’re right. It is none of your business.”

The comment stings more than you expect, but you try to quickly brush it off. You don’t know this man, and in a matter of an hour or so he’ll be gone. You’d promised yourself that as long as he was healthy, you wouldn’t meddle.

But after everything you’ve done for him, it still feels unfair to treat you so dismissively. He acts like you’re a nuisance more than the person who cleaned him up and gave him a place to sleep out of the cold.

The ensuing silence is tense. You push your cart forward, suddenly eager to get out as quickly as possible. The faster you get home, the quicker he leaves. If that’s what he wants after everything you’ve done, he can have it.

You’re moving through the selection of deli cheeses when Levi speaks up again.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says in a low voice. “I wouldn’t believe it myself if I wasn’t witnessing it with my own eyes.”

You look around, following his gaze as it skims over the refrigerated walls of pre-packaged meat and cheese.

“What are you talking about? It’s a grocery store.”

He huffs. “That doctor said the year was 2024.”

You change course, leading the way into an aisle of canned goods. “Yeah?”

It’s quiet for a long moment. Levi’s arms are crossed over his chest as he follows along.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I’m not from here.” He pauses for a moment as you pull some cans from a shelf and place them in your cart. “I’m not from this time.”

You stop for a moment and look at him. On his face is the same look he had the night before, that same sincerity when he told you he’d been looking for some sort of headquarters.

You can’t help it. You chuckle. “You’re talking about time travel.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

You continue down the aisle and turn into the next one. “Levi, there’s never been a recorded instance of time travel…ever. It’s never happened.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “See? You don’t believe me.”

“It isn’t about believing you. It’s impossible.”

But even as you say it, you don’t feel entirely convinced that it’s true.

Improbable, sure. Very unlikely. Insane that you’re even considering it, but the more you think about it, the more the pieces seem to fall into place.

The way you found him, his clothes, the way he looks around at everything like he’s seeing it all for the first time. There’s no indication that he has a serious head injury, so you can’t fall back on that anymore. And the trafficking? Well… You’ve been trained to look for red flags, and nothing about his situation seems to fit with that explanation.

Plus, there are the coins you found in the pockets of his clothes this morning. Copper and silver ones bearing symbols you don’t recognize. The silhouette of a woman in a crown.

You’d looked up every conceivable country that you could think of that might fit the bill and nothing had matched.

There’s no way that what he’s saying is true though, right? If you believe him, you’d have to believe all of it—meaning that he is Levi Ackerman and that the events of Attack on Titan are real.

No, that’s silly. In all of recorded history, there’s never been a single event that coincides with the existence of man-eating titans. Belief in giants is a fringe theory not backed by actual evidence.

But, still. Just to humor him.

“What time are you from then?” you ask.

“854.”

You stop and stare at him. “You realize that’s…over a thousand years ago, right?”

With his mouth in a thin line, Levi nods.

You continue to stare, waiting for a break in his composure. The inevitable laugh that will surely come, marking this entire conversation as a joke, but it never comes.

“You’re serious,” you finally say.

Levi blinks. “You believe me?”

God, what do you believe? “I…” You bring your hands to your face. The middle of the pasta aisle is not the place to be weighing the possibility of time travel. “No,” you finally say. “I mean, I don’t know…can you prove it?”

Levi raises a brow. “How am I supposed to prove it to you?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one claiming to be over a thousand years old.”

“I’m not claiming to be—” he cuts himself off with an irritated sigh. “You’re just as bad as the brats back home.”

Something in your patience finally snaps.

You start walking again, needing space. “You know, you could stand to be a bit nicer to me considering all I’ve done for you.”

For a long moment, there’s only the rattling sound of the cart’s wheels as they roll down the aisle.

“I am grateful,” Levi finally says, surprisingly still following next to you. “But I didn’t ask you to interfere.”

“Well, most people wouldn’t have just left a man to bleed all over the metro. I’m sorry I have basic human decency.”

“Basic human decency would have been pointing me in the direction of the nearest sink,” he points out. “You let me sleep on your couch.”

You turn to glare at him. “I’m sorry, are you complaining right now?”

“I’m saying that I don’t like owing people,” he says.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You don’t owe me anything. I would have done the same thing for anyone.”

Levi doesn’t look like he completely believes you, but at least he lets the matter rest. 

He follows you the rest of the way through the store in thoughtful silence.

Left to your own devices, you grab things without thinking, relying on muscle memory to lead you to the items you usually buy. It isn’t as if you deviate much from your favorite meals, so the rest of the process is quick.

By the time you’ve grabbed everything you need, your mood has improved enough that you feel a bit remorseful for doubting him.

Even if it was a weird idea, Levi appeared genuine. Like Dr. Holloway had said, he’d probably regain his memories soon. If he really didn’t remember anything about modern life, he was going to need someone to help him.

Maybe he shouldn’t leave so soon.

It isn’t until you turn around to speak that you realize you’re alone. A quick look around the aisle confirms that Levi’s nowhere to be seen. That’s odd. When had he wandered off?

You begin searching back through the aisles and after a few minutes, you spot him. Standing in front of the long, neat shelves lined with tea and coffee. Something akin to dread settles into your stomach at the sight.

He glances over as you approach and places a box back on the shelf. A beat passes before he clears his throat and says, “I’ve never seen so much tea in one place before.”

“Do you want some?” you ask, glancing at the box he put back—a black tea blend. He doesn’t respond, simply skimming over the labels again with a peculiar glint in his eye.

You don’t wait for an answer and pluck the box off of the shelf. He doesn’t stop you as you place it into your cart.

It’s a truce. An apology and an acknowledgment that you’re helping him all in one.

You turn your cart back around and lead the way toward the front. “I’m all done. Let’s go.”

**

The walk back home isn’t as tense as before, but it isn’t exactly comfortable either.

You keep watching Levi every chance you get. He appears more thoughtful. His gaze lingers just as it always has on the buildings and the people walking past. Cars, billboards, restaurants, all of it.

It’s got to be overwhelming. Not that you're believing him, but if he believes that he isn’t from this time, it has to be a shock to see so many unfamiliar things at once.

“What are you thinking about?” you finally ask.

His expression remains passive as he takes a deep breath, like he’s grounding himself. “Everything just looks so…”

“Artificial?” you supply when he pauses, but the look on his face tells you he’s confused by the word you use. You try again. “Uh, not natural?”

“I was going to say clean.” His voice goes soft as he looks around again. “The air is clean.”

Not sure how to respond, you turn forward and continue down the street.

It doesn’t take much longer to reach your apartment.

Levi helps carry the bags of groceries upstairs and into your kitchen, where he stands awkwardly as you unload everything into their respective spots. Luna, still curious, climbs onto the table nearby, making Levi scowl.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t shoo her away when he decides to take a seat, and he even goes so far as to let her sniff him as he looks out of the window.

You smile when you hear her chirp. A noise that you know she makes when she feels like she’s being ignored.

“You can pet her, you know?” you look over your shoulder to tell him.

He meets you with a bored look. “I know. I don’t want to.”

As if she can understand him, Luna meows again.

After you put the last item away in your fridge, you move to sit at the table across from him.

“So what are you going to do?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he replies, and for the first time, he sounds truly at a loss.

“Well, you’re welcome to keep staying here for a bit longer,” you say, petting Luna when she slinks over to you. “Until we figure something out.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “We,” he repeats.

You meet his gaze evenly. “Look, I don’t know where you came from or how you got here, but you’re here now and you’re still a human being. As long as you’re open to letting me help, I will.”

He seems to think on it for a moment before agreeing. “There are worse things in the world, I suppose.”

And you think that’s as close to a thank you as you’ll get.

[butchpeace]

I want to have an important discussion: This is a disclaimer that I'm not seeking to cause trouble but need to get this off my chest. I've seen you give advice to many young women on here and hope you have something to say here. Of course, feel free to delete the ask if it's too much. I'm a heterosexual female who spent time in radical feminist spaces as a teenager. Growing up, I struggled with being the only female in a socially conservative, religious and immigrant household. The trifecta of hell. I started wishing to be a boy ever since I was a young girl because I hated how I was treated for being female by my family.

I got into radical feminist spaces as a teenager, after my brief stint as a trans-identified female and, I can honestly say, it didn't help in a way that mattered. Sure, it was nice to have other women who related to my experience, but can we talk about the corrosive hatred that goes on in these spaces? It exacerbated my dislike and discomfort with being female with all the talk about being oppressed and hated systematically by men. How does a young, heterosexual girl process that and still go on to have healthy, normal relationship with men?

What's the end goal with radical feminism, exactly? A young girl peaks and is aware, but then what? Naturally, she'll have negative feelings towards men and the patriarchy, and because radical feminism is not interested in bridging understanding between men and women, we're left with two paths: we embrace the cope of trad women or we suffer more while "aware".

Let's face it: I genuinely don't believe that women's liberation is possible with an antagonistic view towards men or even at all. As much as I hate to say it, we see what happened to the women under Taliban. Men allowed and supported feminism for their own interest. If the male government didn't see value to it, it would have been crushed and done with. Men have been in power for centuries, across many, if not all aspects of the world. And they also have women (likely heterosexual) willing to support them because the path of least resistance is safer for them. I don't want to put down women here, but what else can I say?

I don't believe in female separatism and such a proposed, isolating and unrealistic "solution" makes me wonder if radical feminists know, acknowledge and work with the simple fact that the majority of women are heterosexual, so we have an innate attraction to men that wasn't "conditioned" and can't go away once you've gone to enough feminist meet-ups. Or is radical feminism realistically only for lesbians who can naturally decenter men romantically and be completely fine.

I still believe in radical feminism and its ideas. I don't believe men are innocent, but I'm trying to overcome my hatred towards them because it accomplished nothing. I'm realizing that radical feminism, in its current state, isn't providing answers for me, but I'm sure some other heterosexual women would agree. What's the solution here? I still think radical feminism is an important part of my life, but I'm also done sticking my head in the sand. It's really bringing back my old feelings of wanting to transition. Sorry for being a gender traitor.

I have a more nuanced look at all of this than some people do, so I don’t think everyone will agree with me. But…

Personally I believe that being aware of how patriarchal oppression works is always a net positive, even though it hurts to be aware. Understanding the problem is how we learn to fight back and change things.

I 100% hear what you’re saying though about toxicity in online communities and how the hatred and fear of men can snowball to an unnecessary degree. I see it too and I don’t like it. But generally that kind of attitude is coming from women who have been seriously harmed by men and need a place to vent about it. At what point these spaces and that attitude become unhealthy for them is an individual question.

So yeah there’s some bad vibes. But the solution isn’t to turn our backs on feminism. The solution is to shift to doing work that has real life meaning, and the potential to make real life change in the lives of women. Radical feminism wasn’t ever just about sitting in a room together and complaining about men. It’s about taking those feelings, and our understanding of gender oppression, and turning it into action. Whatever form that action takes.

I also think that the whole concept of separatism is poorly understood in the online community. Not many people are truly advocating for everyone to live in female-only communes and never interact with males. Although that is important for us to have as an option.

I think the general goal of separatism can be looked at more broadly - It’s about creating female only spaces that we can use when we need them. Domestic violence shelters, women’s organizations, even book clubs and female-only friend groups are all part of the goal. That way, separatism is woven into our daily lives in ways that support us and help us heal.

We need places where we can support each other’s mental and physical health, do consciousness raising, and talk about activism outside of male influence. That’s separatism.

At the very least, heterosexual women can benefit from temporarily having a female-only space after they’ve been victimized or harmed by a man. Eventually going back into the wider world and having relationships with men again shouldn’t be seen as a sign of betrayal. It’s natural for everyone to want love and companionship with someone they’re attracted to.

A lot of people would disagree with me on that last point, and say that male-attracted women should just never have sex or a relationship. I think that’s unrealistic, and the broader goal is to decenter men.

So many women put a man at the center of their world, put all their care and effort into that man, to the point that she isn’t taking care of herself and she’s disconnected from other women. That leaves her vulnerable to abuse and manipulation. That’s the problem that radical feminism wants to solve.

Thinking of it that way, the goal would be to take care of yourself first, cultivate female-only spaces and relationships, and essentially just put the men in your life secondary to your own wellbeing.

No shade at all to anyone, but I think a lot of women are using radblr as an “I hate men” space rather than really learning about what radical feminists were saying and trying to turn that into productive action.

Edit to add: Also, if you don’t find that you relate to radical feminism specifically, there are plenty of other schools of thought within feminism. “Radical feminism”, at least online, seems to me like it’s a catch all for everyone who doesn’t agree with the more mainstream form of liberal feminism. But we’re all individuals with our own ideas, forming our own opinions, and that’s what it’s all about! The important thing isn’t what label you use, it’s what you’re doing.

[dreaming-in-the-dark]

just saw a tag on @tsarinablogs about max, saying “i just know the fab five would love him.”

and, listen. hear me out. i know that was a joking off-handed comment but PLEASE imagine that queer eye episode with me right now.

————

it’s the off season or summer break. we open with max in a sim race or coming back from his morning workout around monaco.

we cut to the fab five winding through the streets. they’re taking in the sights of monte-carlo and talking about video edits they’ve seen of max on insta. they mention drive to survive (gotta plug the other netflix shows but you know they’ve seen some episodes at the least). the guys pull up to his apartment and knock. max answers the door (he knew this was happening because security, money, pr, etc. but does he really know what he’s getting himself into? no).

tan would be horrified. would definitely make a snarky comment about max being so rich but wearing nothing but team gear and jeans or a t-shirt in jeans out in public on race weekends. “i googled your salary, and there is no excuse for this, so i’m going to teach you how to pick easy outfits that are still comfortable but not so boring or identical.” though i’m sure they know max wears other things outside of racing, he’d encourage max to show up to media day in new outfits and though we love the same tuxedo for at least four years at the prize giving ceremony, i have so much hope that tan would bring him to a monaco tailor and get him a new one. let’s be for real he would love this episode because they would (hopefully) let him use some of max’s money to buy new clothes.

bobby would probably laugh at max’s sim setup taking up the majority of a room and then make the space more functional, maybe adding more places for trophy shelves since max has said that he keeps some in the closet. also, he could help make the space nicer and safer for future baby verstappen-piquet!

jvn would ask him if he ever has preferences about his hair (shorter or a little more shaggy) or if he just goes with the flow, ask what makes the race helmet more uncomfortable with the sweat and avoid that, and then give max (easy and few) products for hair care especially for athletes, etc. would probably also talk about all the travel max has to do and dealing with stuff on the go.

karamo would bring him to a nearby karting track or to somewhere on the monaco gp circuit to talk about championship mindset, the pressure and criticism max deals with, how he handles online stuff, anything. karamo also definitely mentions how it’s impressive that he can focus on stuff outside racing well. plus don’t forget talking about max’s soon to be expanding family!

antoni would of course have to work around diet plans but could teach max to make some of the stuff he likes fresh or in new ways to change things up, as well as complain about the amount of red bulls max drinks. like “max, at some point he brand doesn’t need to dominate your life this much.”

the little event that they normally have them working up to at the end could either be a little gathering with the monaco f1 drivers, but more realistically maybe just the next race or a red bull/sponsor event max is attending

at the end, the guys watch the little “after” video (which was definitely created and edited by red bull’s pr team) and then the they cheer max on in the gp that weekend while simultaneously having very little clue what is happening. they love crofty’s commentary.

[melodic-haze]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino (GI) x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Pet play, using a hidden vibrator in public, reader with a cock/strap referred to as the former, ROUGH sex, spanking, a lot of painplay actually, blood cuz have you?? Seen her nails????? What the hell, overstimulation, dumbification 🫶

☆ — NOTES: I haven't actually played Genshin since the eternal Ayaka timer lol but anyway I got carried away I think LMAOOO I just have a huge thing for authority figures who are all subby for me 😞 I might do an aftercare continuation post idk

☆ — PARTS: Part 1 (you are here), Part 2, Part 3

I really need to put a collar on this woman and call her my personal attack dog

This tall, scary woman who wields a SCYTHE, this Harbinger slash one winged fallen angel with crosses for eyes, this person who people call 'Father'???? Imposing as hell, very much the type that you can't look at in the eyes or else you're probably marked for death next.......but who could EVER expect that all that would go off and crumble down at the mere sight of you with a collar on your hand, a smile on your face and the intent to reduce her into nothing but your personal little pet?

Intimidating? Oh, please. Maybe she'd cut everyone else, but she wouldn't dare do that to you! Not even when she has a vibrator stuffed in her pussy. What's she gonna do realistically, hurt you? Oh no no no she wouldn't dare do that, you've done nothing wrong, could NEVER do anything wrong so whyever would she do that to you?

You've always wondered how Arlecchino could ever balance on those shoes of hers, with the way her heels narrow down into practically nothing by the time its length reaches the ground.

It's an impressive feat, being able to balance on such technically impractical footwear.. especially when the wearer has a small vibrator stuffed in her cunt, controlled by none other than you and the equally small device resting in your pocket, ready for you to use when you felt like it.

And you did exactly that—as the Harbinger went to talk to some person about whatever it is (you never really cared about the current semantics), you dug into your pocket idly, innocently, even, but the both of you know full well that it was anything but.

Despite Arlecchino keeping a straight face, you know the effect was immediate; you could tell from the slight stumble and the quite-literal split-second glitch that you miss when you blink. Unfortunately for her, though, the third-party hadn't blinked so she's left to scramble for an excuse as you watch on nearby, utterly delighted.

Eventually you see her excuse herself early, making it appear as if whatever they were discussing didn't seem to work. And who would ever question Arlecchino, of all people?

You.

"Well, now," you begin with a raised eyebrow as you watched your approaching lover approach you with a surprising amount of grace, wondering how she's kept herself steady with those heels of hers, "I thought you were going to take longer. What happened?"

You see her eyes stare at you, the red crosses within them practically burning so bright it's as if you were so close that you could touch the sun and burn... Though instead of looking away like a normal person with a sense of self-preservation, you dared to flash her an innocent smile as if you were utterly clueless, but both of you knew VERY well that that was, simply put, pure and utter bullshit.

She licks her lips before answering, "I have.. rescheduled for the discussion to continue when his pr-- ..proposal has been polished to the standard I require. We can return to-- ..!"

Her breath hitches, and she moves on to sit down swiftly and cross her legs in a futile effort to keep the toy still within her, though that turns out to be a mistake as you increase the intensity even further. Her mouth practically drops open before she looks down and covers her mouth as she grabs onto your wrist, nails digging and causing you to wince, though it doesn't keep the smug look on your face from increasing.

You narrow your eyes, as if utterly unimpressed by her antics, as you speak only for your lover to hear, "Flaking on your responsibilities just for you to get some relief sooner rather than later? Okay, then." And she hears, sees you laugh, and you both know that she knows she's crossed you, "Let's go home."

The only thing your pet Harbinger could really do was nod.

She need need NEEDS to be treated roughly for her to feel things bc tbh she probably has a high FEELING threshold in general. And like she's insane but that's another thing

Pull on her collar, her leash. Actually no pull on her HAIR there's a reason why she has it in a low tail 🤨🤨 pull it use it to direct her where you want her and she'll do whatever it is you require for her to do

Please do absolutely spank her, put her in her place, urge her on. Pain is a great stimulant, and is a great teacher 🫶

Needs she NEEDS you to hold her up as you pound at her without stopping, vibrator still in her cunt and being pushed deeper into her over and over by your cock and she doesn't tell you to stop either bc she's telling you to give her more, please!!

This deadly woman is asking you, pleading you, begging you for you to absolutely ruin her!!! But nonono you can't let her have what she wants when she's been uncharacteristically not doing her job like she's meant to so you pull out of her and immediately turn off the toy inside her and she looks at you with such shock that it's so strange to see on this ever-so-composed-and-strict member of the Fatui. But at the end you don't really care as you start up the whole process again after waiting for long enough, even switching your positions and paces and everything

Once you deem it enough and that she's basically at her limit, you decide to grant her.. mercy. Fuck her until she cums and she cums HARD, her nails reducing the sheets into damaged tatters of fabric and leaving bloody claw marks and bites on your skin as she writhes and twitches and glitches violently (you'll take care of it later, you reckon, but right now do you really care?) before she settles down.......

But you don't stop. Nononono you don't stop not at all!! This IS what she wanted, right??? Being fucked so hard until she's all dumb and forgets everything she has to keep track of in that brain of hers, make her forget that she's supposed to be this scaryyy Harbinger who could kill you in the blink of an eye, reduce her into nothing but your obedient little puppy desperate for a powerless mortal, of all things. That has to be humiliating, it SHOULD be humiliating when she has all that power, but she doesn't care. Not now, not ever.

Not when it's you :33

[imastrangeone98]

Carved Into Time Immemorial

(A/N: I'm back with my bullshit 😄 I've reemerged from the depths of legal hell and I will not hesitate to repeat this again)

Based off of a dream I had, started off as a zombie apocalypse dream but it suddenly changed to a reincarnation au so there's that

Warning: fem!reader, ooc modern!alhaitham who's a simp, reincarnation angst to comfort, just general bad attempt at hurt/comfort fluff

"I'm merely attempting to tell you to stop deluding yourself with your fantasies."

"So you're telling me to screw off, right?" you sniffled, tears running down your soft cheeks. "If you didn't like me, you just had to say that. Why are you being so cruel?"

"It's not being cruel, it's simply being realistic," he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "With my status as the Scribe, the requirements for a romantic partner must be near equal to or higher than my own. And with your low grades, unruly personality, and penchant for idiotic decisions, the answer is quite obvious:

"You don't meet any of my prerequisites."

Alhaitham's eyes crack open, and he blinks at the sunlight peeking through the blinds.

With a grunt, he hoists himself up and stretches with a soft yawn, before rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

Another dream.

What a shitty way to start the morning. He runs a hand through his hair and ruffles it rather aggressively.

"I need a coffee."

[...]

Never mind. He doesn't want coffee anymore.

Because the new barista taking orders bears a striking, near-identical resemblance to the crying woman in his unnaturally realistic dreams.

But it's too late to back out, because Alhaitham is next in line, and your gentle eyes peer into his own so deeply, he almost doesn't notice the way your hands shake just the slightest at the sight of him.

Despite the brief stutter in his voice, he manages to give you his order, even placing a small tip inside the jar, which he normally doesn't do.

Given the terror in your eyes which you so desperately tried to hide, he feels as though you earned it. That, and the coffee you handed over to him (ignoring the softness of your fingertips when they brushed over his knuckles) is surprisingly delicious- perfectly bitter with a smooth undertaste that the previous baristas could never achieve.

As he heads off to work, he finds himself savoring every sip.

Meanwhile, you're still reeling at the sight of the mysterious, yet familiar man this morning. How could it be possible, that the figure you saw hurting you with words so sharp they could've cut through your skin in your dreams be a living, breathing human being in your reality, especially when said man spoke with such a surprisingly quiet voice?

Could it be possible that we met before? you couldn't help but mull over, before shaking your head resolutely.

It's just a coincidence, nothing more, you try to reassure yourself, returning to grinding coffee beans with diligence. Nothing more, nothing less.

It's not like you're ever going to see him again.

[...]

You ought to smack yourself right in the head, because you end up meeting the familiar stranger- Alhaitham, you recall from the name on the cup- again at the tavern.

Your coworkers had dragged you there against your will, despite your lack of enthusiasm. So you sit at the bar, a mocktail in your hands, watching the other baristas get more and more drunk.

"You're not a fan of alcohol, I presume?"

The sudden voice close to your ear makes you flinch, and it's only thanks to the man's solid chest that he doesn't go tumbling to the ground when you smack him.

"I- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No need to apologize. You have quite the arm strength."

You flush at the reminder of your actions, as well as how firm his stomach was. You'd slap yourself silly if you weren't in public.

"If that's all, I hope you have a good rest of your night-"

"We've never met before."

You look at him, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"We've only met once, yet you seem strangely familiar. Like someone from the past," he says. "And from the way you seem to avoid my gaze, would I be correct in presuming that you also view me in a similar light?"

Something within you- almost like an inner voice- whispers at you to not answer his question, to leave and not turn around for a final glance. And it's so unnerving that you're speechless.

"I'll take your silence as an answer." He gazes at you with unbridled curiosity, eyes sparkling in the dim bar light that you can't look away. "If it's agreeable with you, would you be interested in going out for a meal sometime? Perhaps we could compare notes."

You should say no. The voice within you tells you to say no.

But he tilts his head, and somehow, your voice cannot bring itself to vocalize what you should say. So you simply nod, albeit hesitantly. And with a brief exchange of phone numbers, you hurriedly grab your things and ditch your coworkers to rush home.

Alhaitham watches you until the door swings shut, then moves his attention to his phone screen, swiftly typing a message to his newly-made acquaintance.

"I've never seen you so excited about meeting people before," Kaveh chortles with a swig of his wine. "Were you hoping to bring her home tonight? The way she darted away says otherwise."

He rolls his eyes. "Says the one who pulled zero people in the span of the hour we've been sitting in this bar."

"Why, you-!"

"Alhaitham's and Kaveh's love lives aside," Tighnari jumps in and glares at his two friends, "it's about your time to roll, Cyno. We came here because you wanted to play cards, yet here you are, staring at nothing."

Their attention turns to their card-loving friend, who is merely staring at the door.

"...She's a marathon runner," he says simply.

"...What?"

"A marathon runner. Because she's been running laps in Alhaitham's mind."

The men stare at him blankly.

"...Do you not get it? Allow me to explain- Alhaitham has been exceptionally distracted for the past hour-"

Tighnari immediately tries to stop him, leading to an objectively hilarious argument that even has a chase sequence ("Enough with the shitty puns, you pea-brained lummox!"). But Alhaitham isn't laughing.

He stares at his phone, at the little notification indicating a response from you, agreeing to lunch in a few days' time.

He sets about looking for a nice cafe.

[...]

The booths are small in this restaurant, because the two of you pick at your food with your knees practically bumping each other under the table. But the panipuri appetizers are good, so at least you have that silver lining.

He's not particularly chatty, as his answers to your icebreaker questions are short and straightforward. But you sense that it's not out of malice, but simple directness.

At least you learn some things: he works at Sumeru Corporations, he holds a relatively high yet comfortable position, he has a "terrible roommate with no sense of rationality or common sense," and he enjoys a good book at the library. It suits him, you think.

It isn't until your lunches arrive that the conversation turns more serious.

As you nervously take bites of your fish with cream sauce, he asks you a question: "Did you sleep well last night?"

You flinch. The answer is: you did not. The dream prevented you from doing so.

"Dropping out of the Akademiya? I knew you were always foolish, but to think you'd stoop so low as to throw away your future," Alhaitham said, watching you throw away boxes upon boxes of your schoolwork and rejected theses.

"You said so yourself, Grand Scribe," you sighed. You refused to give him any more attention than this; the sting in your heart wouldn't allow it. "I was never meant to be a scholar. This is the best case scenario for everyone involved."

He huffed, and scanned through some of your old papers- papers you spent days, weeks, months on, even. Papers that he would've written in an hour or less. You bit your lip; you refused to give it any more thought, lest the grief in your chest mutate into rage.

"You do realize that some of these could be published, yes?"

You rolled your eyes. "If you're done mocking me, Grand Scribe, you can return to your duties now."

"I'm not mocking you; some of these papers would easily be approved by the Grand Sage-"

"Don't even get me started on that incompetent old fool!" you hissed, and you squeezed the old papers in your hands so hard wrinkles formed. "If that was your attempt to have me stay in the Akademiya- which seems beyond your best interest, mind you- then you did a horrible job. Leave at once!"

"Just listen to-"

"LEAVE!"

"Are you alright? You're crying."

The voice jolts you out of your memory. You jump in your seat, the feeling of a warm finger gently rubbing under your eye further pulling you out of your unexpected funk.

Alhaitham stares at you, leaning away. "My apologies. You just seemed very lost in thought."

You wipe your suddenly wet eyes. Why would you cry over a silly dream? "Sorry; I don't know why I did that. It was just a bad dream I had last night, please don't worry about it."

He hums and stares at you thoughtfully, a cheek rested on his hand. "I suppose now would be a bad time to tell you I also had a dream last night."

You look at him, eyes wide.

"You were leaving some institution called the Akademiya, and I made some attempt to stop you for unknown reasons."

The blood in your veins chilled you; you stare into your plate, appetite gone. He eyes you, swiftly switching his empty plate with yours.

"I admit that I'm not one to be superstitious. But for us to share the same dream cannot merely be a coincidence."

You want to deny it; there's no way some complete stranger happens to share the exact same dream as you! It's just a coincidence!

...But is it really? To both know the words that were spoken between your dream self and his? Could that truly be called a coincidence when it seems like every dream of yours is known by this man?

You stay silent.

Alhaitham takes the time to briefly study your face: the corners of your eyes are etched with laugh lines, your hands are rough and calloused from months- maybe even years- of hard work from your various areas of employment, and even though you're visibly upset, your head still bobs gently to the soft music playing above. You live a different life than he imagined.

He swiftly handles the bill, and when you complain and try to hand him your share of the receipt, he merely says, "If you'd like to repay me, I know a good place that has excellent baklava."

And when his eyes glow and he extends his arm to you, you- against your better judgment- say yes.

[...]

"Y'know, he's been in quite the good mood ever since his date~" Kaveh chuckles at his roommate from the comfort of his cramped desk. "He's finally appreciating all those love lessons I taught him!"

"Sure, if you can even call those lessons," Tighnari laughs at his friend. "More like screaming matches to me."

"I swear to the archons, if you try to mock my teaching skills again, I'll give you a 'love lesson' too!"

"No need, I don't need another one of those."

"What are you talking about, I never gave you one-"

"On the contrary, Alhaitham has been rather cranky at work." Cyno watches his friend typing away at his phone while simultaneously managing his leftover paperwork, oddly determined on finishing the last of his duties before work ended so he could focus his attention on other, "more important things worth my time than slaving away over a desk," as he put it. "He seems very intent on 'throwing a wrench' in all of my proposals for the upcoming case."

"...Not gonna lie, Cyno, that doesn't sound very off-brand from his actual personality," Tighnari says bluntly. "Also, stop with the archon-forsaken puns!"

"No. And correction- he's intent on rejecting my proposals. Setaria's and Zandik's went through without a hitch. And their plans almost never get approved by him."

That fact left the lawyer's two friends utterly confused. While Alhaitham was never an active fan of Cyno, they knew that the former always respected the latter's opinion regarding legal matters. The fact that he is actively avoiding Cyno's advice is... concerning, to say the least.

They all turn towards Alhaitham, who had seemingly paid them no heed, and observe him in silence.

"...If you focused on your duties as fervently as you do your gossip, I'm sure this office would be much better off," said man cuttingly says to his friends.

"I will once you tell me why you're rejecting my proposals," Cyno huffs, arms crossed.

"I would accept them if they were not so riddled with nonsense."

But Alhaitham knows that the words he spills so smoothly are actually directed towards himself. After all, no reasonable man would be doing such ridiculous things as he is solely because of a dream.

...Or perhaps, a distant memory.

"Do you happen to know what flowers she likes, Alhaitham? Perhaps not flowers..."

Alhaitham watched Cyno mumble to himself as the general pored over the selections of bouquets, a strange feeling in his gut. But he rolled his eyes and pointed one out to his friend. "This one."

"Ah, so she likes Sumeru roses. Simple, yet classic and elegant. A fitting flower indeed for a blooming beauty."

It was strange to see the General Mahamatra himself with such a wide, love-struck smile on his face. Everyone around him was placed on edge, including the Grand Scribe himself. But there was no real reason to feel this way. After all, he had long since cut ties with you ever since you left the Akademiya to start up your own food stall, selling fresh chai and charcoal-baked Ajilenakh cakes to eager customers.

But ever since Cyno became interested in getting closer to you, Alhaitham found it more difficult to avoid you. He began inviting you to the tavern for TCG, then to the Grand Bazaar to watch Nilou's latest performance, then to walks around the city at night to stargaze. Soon, you and Cyno were practically inseparable- where one was, the other would most certainly be as well.

It was... odd, to say the least. Alhaitham was always used to your gaze on his back. Now that your eyes had moved elsewhere, the feeling was unusual. He should have felt relieved. Yet all he felt was an unnatural wrongness.

But he said nothing. He gave Cyno his advice, and watched as the general practically sprinted to where you had promised to meet him that night for dinner. He watched until his friend's back disappeared, then returned home, feeling abnormally bitter.

"Don't play dumb, Alhaitham," Cyno says cuttingly, eyes piercing. "You've never approved of Zandik before. So what's really going on with you?"

"I already said my piece. Maybe instead of standing around and blabbering about how your proposal didn't get chosen, your time would be better spent fixing your mistakes."

Alhaitham turns back to his computer, headphones slid over his ears, effectively tuning out Cyno's further complaints in favor of the playlist you sent him a few days ago.

A playlist that you certainly did not give to Cyno.

[...]

"Wow. These are beautiful, but..." You gaze at the bouquet of rainbow roses Alhaitham placed in your hands earlier. "...Where did you get these? They don't look local to Sumeru."

"The florist imported some unique flowers from Fontaine. I thought you'd like these ones."

His eyes fixate on your small, sweet smile as you nod and breathe in their scent. "Yes. I do. Thank you, Alhaitham, that's very sweet of you."

Not as sweet as you, he thinks. But he can save those thoughts for another time. A more appropriate time.

[...]

...He just didn't think that time would be now.

Because you and Cyno are playing TCG. Together. At the same table.

Alhaitham knows he shouldn't feel this way. He was the one who invited you to join him, after all. He knew this could have been a possibility- you're soft and likable, it's only fair that his friends would be drawn to you.

But the look in the lawyer's eyes is unnaturally familiar. And it grates on his nerves.

Because he saw it before. At your wedding. He saw you walk down the aisle, with a smile brighter than he had ever seen grace your lips.

And across from you, Cyno. With hearts in his eyes, he held out his hand for you, and Alhaitham watched as you took it in your own and held his hand close to your heart. And he watched, bitterness on his tongue, as you were whisked away in the general's arms, dancing the night away.

That could have been me. The thought thudded so strongly in his mind he nearly knocked himself over. But he knew he only had himself to blame. And Kaveh was more than eager to rub that fact in his face as he helped his stupidly drunk friend back to their shared home.

"If ya weren't such a... such a hard-ass, maybe she... she would've gone out with you," the architect cackled, the smell of booze so strong it made Alhaitham's nose crinkle in disgust.

Just as it does now, at the sight of the two of you, chumming it up like peas in a pod. Like the two of you were meant to meet.

To fall in love all over again, as you did before.

His hands clench, and the wineglass nearly shatters.

Kaveh eyes him knowingly. "Y'know, if you're gonna be such a hard-ass-"

"Do not." He snaps at the architect, before rising from his seat to march over to you, completely ignoring Kaveh's baffled gasp at the sheer audacity of his junior.

"Alhaitham!" you greet him so cheerily, he almost forgets why he's so upset. Almost. "Come sit with us, we're just about to start a new game!"

"She's quite the talented player," Cyno nods at you. "You should bring her around more often."

"I'm afraid not for a while, as we have somewhere to be." He grabs your wrist and escorts you out of your seat and towards the door, choosing to ignore your confused pout. "I'll see you on Monday."

He doesn't turn back around to Cyno's brief protest, nor to Kaveh's knowing guffaw as the two of you exit the tavern into the cool night air. He breathes in deep, trying to ease the tightness in his chest.

"...Alhaitham?" Your soft voice cuts through the silence, compelling him to turn towards you. "Is something wrong?"

He chews on his lip. "...Do you like him?"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

He sighs; no way could you be this adorably oblivious. "Cyno. Do you like him?"

Your eyes widen briefly, before you rub your chin, deep in contemplation. "He's very friendly, I'll give him that."

He glares at the ground.

"But I don't think I would go out of my way to hang out with him outside of hanging out with you," you laugh, scratching the back of your neck and looking up at him. Your eyes glow in the moonlight, and he's so captivated, his hand reaches out to brush against your cheek.

Your face feels hot, and you're suddenly even more bashful than you already are. But when you try to hide your face, he immediately gets a gentle, yet firm grip on your chin.

"Don't hide," he whispers. He stares at you, a fond look in his eyes. "You don't need to hide from me."

You're once again reminded of how utterly handsome Alhaitham is. And you want to kiss him. So you lean on your tiptoes, face moving towards his-

DON'T.

The voice echoes loud in your mind, and you grab your head in pain with a yelp.

"I'm merely attempting to tell you to stop deluding yourself with your fantasies."

Alhaitham immediately reaches out for you, grasping your chin and tilting your head this way and that. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"With your low grades, unruly personality, and penchant for idiotic decisions, the answer is quite obvious..."

"My- my head..."

"Your head? I'll take you to the Bimarstan, just hang in there-"

"You don't meet any of my prerequisites."

"NO!" You pull away from his touch, like his skin burned you, and turn your back to him. Every cell in your body seems to be screaming: LEAVE. "I- I have to go."

"At least let me walk you home-"

You don't hear any more of him- you can't, not with the voice in your head demanding you to turn your back on him and return home immediately.

You don't see the pain in his eyes as he watches you leave him.

[...]

You don't contact him for a while. His messages go unread.

Alhaitham spends most of his time staring at his phone instead of his papers, waiting for a message that never comes.

"You keep staring at that screen, your eyes are gonna pop out," Kaveh chortles as he sips his coffee. "And then that woman will really never want to see you again."

Alhaitham doesn't reply. He instead thinks back to his last conversation with you: the fear on your face, the tremble in your hands, the shakiness of your voice.

Did he make you uncomfortable? Did he push too far against your boundaries? Did he make you remember too much, too fast?

Did he remind you of something... or someone... you'd rather forget?

"You haven't brought your friend around recently," Cyno comments lightly from his desk. Alhaitham's hands clench. "You should invite her to join us again sometime. I'm looking forward to another rematch."

"I'm just surprised Alhaitham is capable of thinking of someone other than himself," Kaveh scoffs. "This man reeks of haughtiness, what makes you think he's capable of having friends, let alone a love interest?"

"Sounds like somebody's jealous," Tighnari chimes in. "Kaveh's right, by the way; staring at a computer screen doesn't do well for your eyes."

Alhaitham simply mumbles, "Pardon me if my eye health is the least of my concerns at the moment," and continues typing and deleting his message to you, trying for the nth time to make it perfect.

"...I knew it," Kaveh gasps, and he points dramatically at his roommate. "It is because of your lady friend! Let me guess, trouble in paradise? Want your best friend to give you some love tips?"

"That would actually be greatly appreciated."

"I knew that those would come in handy- Wait, what?" It's not just Kaveh who looks at him utterly flabbergasted; Cyno and Tighnari also stare him, dumbfounded at why the ever-rational secretary would want romance advice.

"Since when did you...?"

"Why would such a lovely lady ever want to..."

"I KNEW IT." Kaveh lunges towards Alhaitham, dramatically grabbing him by the collar and vigorously shaking him back and forth. "Ever since that woman showed up, you've been so googly-eyed; it freaked me out for weeks! And here I thought you were physically incapable of feeling love."

Alhaitham rolls his eyes. "Excuse me for wanting to keep my private life private."

Tighnari coughs into his hand, silencing the two men. "Well, since it's not so private anymore, you may as well tell us what's plaguing you."

"The lady lost interest?" Cyno chimes in, resting his head on his hand. "Or perhaps she's being distant. Like an iceberg."

"What does an iceberg have to do with-"

"She hasn't responded to me ever since I tried to kiss her. I'm worried I may have breached her personal space." Alhaitham sighs heavily and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm aware that I might have done something wrong, but she won't even let me apologize."

Kaveh simply rolls his eyes. "Then isn't that the solution? Just leave her alone; clearly she no longer wants anything to do with you, for good reason."

Alhaitham grits his teeth. "It's not that simple; she looked like she wanted to reciprocate, but something held her back."

"Well, you're not gonna know what until you ask her yourself," Tighnari says with a shrug. "See if you can meet her. If she gave you her address, go to her house or something. You're just gonna keep asking yourself questions until you go crazy."

"He's plagued with the love bug," Cyno hums thoughtfully. "You should bring flowers. She seems like the type to like Sumeru roses."

Alhaitham's eye twitches. "Actually, she prefers rainbow roses. I'll be off; it's exactly 5 PM."

He swiftly gathers his things and leaves the office, glaring at the piles of unfinished work he's intentionally putting off until the next week. He has much more important things to contemplate than the office goals for the next month.

He needs to find a way to meet you. He has too many things to say, and no way to say them.

What should he do? Should he go to your workplace and see if you're in? Should he be a freak and try to track down your phone? Should he-

Ding~

The soft tinkle of his message tone hits his ears, and he yanks his phone out to look at the screen... and nearly drops the device onto the ground.

Rainbow Rose 🌹: Sorry for not responding. Please come meet me. I'd like to talk to you about some things.

Attached is the address to Puspa Cafe. He immediately starts calculating in his head the fastest way to get there, what to order, what to say to you.

I'm sorry for invading your privacy. I want us to be closer. What can I do to be allowed into your space? How can I prove to you that I'm different from the person in your dreams?

By the time he's finalized what he wants to say, he already sees you through the window of the cafe, sipping on some specialty drink. The setting sunlight frames your face so perfectly, the words he planned fall through his mind and onto the floor beneath him.

But he swallows the rock in his throat and approaches you.

You blink up at him and smile softly. "Alhaitham. Sorry for calling you in such short notice. Please, sit." You gesture down at the seat in front of you.

But he's unnerved; you're polite and distant again, just like how you were when the two of you first met.

He has so many questions, but they all narrow down to the same thing: Were the dreams too much for you? Are you still willing to see him again?

"How is your head?" is all he can manage to ask you.

You nod. "It's alright. Thanks for asking." Then you scratch your head and lower your gaze to the ground. "Alhaitham. I don't think we should meet anymore."

The words don't process in his mind until you're halfway through some spiel. Then his blood turns to ice.

"...Pardon?"

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "That night, when my head started hurting after we..." Your cheeks flush, and you glare at your cup. "The dreams wouldn't let me sleep. Every one of them involved you, hating me. They're so vivid, I know you and I both know that it's not a coincidence anymore. And I'm worried that-"

Alhaitham stops listening.

You don't want to meet him anymore. Cyno's words echo in his mind: the lady lost interest.

You don't want to see him. He may never see you again.

He's brought out of his mental spiral when you brush your hand against his.

"Alhaitham?" you ask quietly, too softly. Like a hunter speaking soothingly to a dying animal. "You lost focus."

"I..." He's dumbfounded; Alhaitham has never been lost for words, yet now his tongue refuses to move, his lips refuse to speak, glued together with fear and desperation.

You stare at the ground, hair covering your eyes. "...I understand. I'll take my leave. Thank you... for everything. It was..." He sees you bite your lip, a tear slipping down your cheek, and you stand up and leave.

He simply stares at your seat until the doorbell chimes lightly behind you.

He cannot process anything, not with your rejection still echoing in his mind, clouding his senses, your tears polluting his conscious.

...Your tears.

...You were crying.

The cogs in his brain turn once more.

He stands up so abruptly, he knocks his chair back, and throws himself outside the door, sprinting towards you.

And when he calls to you, your shoulders turn.

His heart burns with hope.

"I can't accept that," he pants, grabbing hold of your shoulders and gently turning you towards him. His hold is weak, enough for you to slip through his fingers if you pull away hard enough.

You don't pull away.

"Alhaitham, what are-" you start, but he cradles your face in his hands, staring deep into your eyes, and you fall silent.

"You said we shouldn't meet because of the dreams." His thumbs draw circles onto your soft cheeks, and archons above, he wants to kiss them. "Would it be more accurate to say that you feel that way towards the man in them?"

You blink at him, confused. He nearly coos at how adorable you look.

"What do you think about me? Do you think of me as someone who hates you?"

"No." His heart warms at your instantaneous answer. But it stops at your next sentence. "But my body doesn't feel that way. My head doesn't feel that way. The dreams... You hated me since the moment I..." You freeze, and become stiff in his hold.

But when he rubs your cheeks again, you melt into him, stumbling on your own two feet into his arms. And he cradles you against him, as though if he pressed his body into yours hard enough, the two of you could combine and never be apart.

"...I can't promise you that I won't be like him, the one in your dream...The me of the past," he whispers into your hair. "But I can tell you this now: I am not so foolish as to let you slip from my hands yet again."

Your eyes water with tears; you don't know whether to move closer or move away. Your brain is mush; Alhaitham's cologne fills your nose until all you can see, smell, hear, is Alhaitham.

"He was foolish; he made his choices and regretted them too late. I have already made my choice, and I choose you."

You gasp, just the lightest of breath, and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb.

"I chose you, and I will always choose you. And under no circumstances are you obligated to choose me in return." But he smiles so sweetly at you that tears well up, both in your eyes and his. "But if you choose me, I swear that I will never repeat his mistakes. I will build us a future here, from the ground up, and earn your trust, piece by piece. And I will never let you go again."

Your body flushes hot, urging you to flee his grasp and never return.

He hasn't changed, your mind whispers to you. He is just as cruel, callous, and selfish as ever.

He gently places his forehead on yours, and closes his eyes. "Take as much time as you need," he says. "I will always be here."

"...Will you?" you ask, voice so quiet that it blends into the background.

But Alhaitham hears you. Loud and clear.

He smiles. "Always."

Your body hates you. You should hate yourself, perhaps, for being too weak.

But you melt into his arms, where he encloses you with his warmth and security.

And when your mind tries to overwhelm you, your heart tells it to be silent.

[...]

"It's been awhile."

You scoff, refusing to look at him. Alhaitham chooses to look down below at your respective reincarnations sleeping peacefully. He- the newer him- embraces you tightly in his arms, and you- the newer you- snuggle closer to his warmth.

Alhaitham- the old Alhaitham- smiles. You- the old you- do not.

"Foolish girl," you sigh heavily. "I tried to warn her, yet she never listened. She's only going to fall into the same trap I did."

"...Perhaps she won't," he counters, hovering closer to you. "Perhaps she, and he, are a little more intelligent than we were. Wisdom comes with age... and experience. Something we lacked then." He glances down at them again. "Something they have now."

"Only because of us," you grumble. "And here I am, trying to pass down my wisdom, and she refuses to listen. Is stubbornness just something we're destined to have, I wonder?"

"Perhaps," he chuckles. "And perhaps, she is also building her own wisdom based on her own experiences. As is he." He glances down at his other self. "If he only relied on my memories, he would have never even approached her. He would be a coward like I was, and hold all his feelings in until it's too late."

You say nothing. He smiles softly, and gently touches your hand. When you don't move away, he slowly wraps his arm around you, resting his head on your shoulder, savoring your warmth (or what you have... given you're both spirits).

"Our story has long come to a close," Alhaitham murmurs. "But theirs is different. Let's let them be. Maybe they'll be much different from us."

You grumble in his hold, but don't pull away. "I didn't take you to be the type to make irrational predictions."

"Death does do things to a person's mentality," he muses. "After all, you wouldn't let me touch you like this in life."

You huff, but don't say anything in retort.

And he holds you, just as his counterpart does, until the sun rises and melts the darkness away. Them with it.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: this took way too long to write (thanks law school), also tumblr is a b*stard and wouldn't let me write in my drafts so I had to copy paste everything when it was 3/4 finished 🥲

And yes, this sucks- deal with it XD

[trexdrabbles]

I would absolutely die for a little Gambit drabble with #5 from that prompt list!

I have been absolutely dying to do one of these so thank you! (Fem reader since nothing was specified!)

NSFT under the cut!

#5 - "Let me take care of you, yeah? I'll do the work."

It had been a long day. Long day, long week, long month. Work had been getting just uncomfortably busy as of late, and you just had to keep reminding yourself that every evening spent away from home and every weekend tacked on too was only adding to your bank account and the reserve of compensatory time off you had been saving up. A few more weeks of this and you'd finally be done with the worst of it all and swore you were going to take a whole month off, and sleep straight through the first week of it. Even with the finish line in sight though, you needed a break, and badly at that.

And you weren't the only one who seemed to think so.

Remy had been a little busier on his end of things too, but not enough so as to not notice how you practically dragged yourself through the door each day, or sounded absolutely dead when you were on call with him. Today had seemed particularly rough, coming home late on a Saturday evening, short pumps in your hand that you had taken off before even driving home and had just carried up the driveway with you. But with all that misery was the littlest glimmer of hope in the fact that you had the next day off. A lovely little blip in your hellish schedule and god did you intent to make the most of it.

Cuddling with your boyfriend had definitely been prominent on your mind as a good place to start and had honestly kept you going through the final half of your work day. Opening the door to confirm that he was actually, in fact, there had been quite the blessing too. Realistically you knew he wouldn't take off without at least a text shot your way at the bare minimum, but seeing him there with your own two eyes just cemented the knowledge that you were going to finally have a damn good day off.

"Lookin' good, but ain't lookin' too hot," he commented, glancing up from whatever he had been doing on his phone, looking you over with something close to sympathy that only grew closer when you answered him with an exceptionally eloquent groan that perfectly conveyed 'I almost wish I had just been hit by a car on the way home so I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore'.

"I feel like death," you announced, dropping your poor shoes unceremoniously right beside the door and then kicking them a little further away from the entry for good measure.

"Already got dinner goin'. Be done soon."

That was enough to lift a little extra weight off of your shoulders as well and you sighed for it.

"That's why I love you," you murmured, drawing close to press a small smattering of kisses to his lips and cheek before figuring you'd go and change before sitting down to eat.

"Love me for plenty a' reasons," Remy retorted between kisses, smile permanently affixed to his lips throughout.

"Mmm, no, just that one," you teased, laughing slightly when he caught you around the waist to keep you from wandering too far off.

"Just gotta remind you a' the rest, don't I?" You knew exactly where he was going with that and admittedly it sounded pretty damn good, but you were already struggling with wanting to stay awake as it was.

You leaned in to give him one more kiss before moving to step back again. "You can remind me tomorrow."

Your efforts to go and change clothes were once again thwarted by his grip tightening a touch more and when you glanced back at him, his smile had lost its teasing edge.

"C'mon chère; let Remy take care a' you, yeah? Been runnin' yourself down, let me do the work tonight."

Fuck, if that didn't get you.

Somehow dinner was enjoyed at a relatively normal pace before he was dragging you off to your room, dishes to be ignored until tomorrow. Remy kept up with his words too, hardly letting you lift a finger as he grabbed a change of sleep clothes for you and helped you out of your work clothes. You had thought just immediately crashing with your entire body tangled around him would be a perfect end for the night, and that was entirely off from what was happening now. Though admittedly, being stretched out on your bed, thighs locked around his head and fingers curled into his hair as his tongue pressed expertly into you, lapping up everything you had to give and then some was an even better option.

[eldritch-spouse]

[There's something in my drafts I'm hardly going to finish, so I'll just leave this here.]

Full: Option 1; Option 2

TW: Degradation; Public humiliation

You meet behind the local mall.

The same one he first stalked you in, of course. You're a sentimental sap, after all, but it also helps you remember to not feel bad about anything you do to Patches. He's just a creep, always been one, and creeps don't deserve anything.

Certainly not when they arrive 10 minutes after the scheduled time.

You watch him meekly trudge towards you, slightly shadowed by the more secluded nature of this location. Patches has the decency to look embarrassed, rubbing his own arm and refusing to make eye contact while his old boots all but drag on the rocky ground.

He listened to your advice from last time, at least, making an effort to look more normal by wearing only his shirt and pants. Putting aside the garish shoe wear and the fucking ridiculous hat he refuses to part ways with, he could almost blend in well enough with other monsters.

This style of clothing isn't his preference, if the way he's shrinking even more into himself is any indication.

" Oh goodie, look who finally decided to show up! "

The dullahan immediately starts scratching at the bold veins on his arms, irritating the pockets of magic beneath his skin.

" I- I'm so sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean to be late- It's- My... " He chokes a little. " My work... There was a- "

" Did I ask for excuses? "

Your tone is your most powerful weapon. In the flip of a switch, sugary, sardonic babying can become a bitter, chilling warning. It always seems to catch the undead's breath.

" No, ma'am... "

" You know, this happens a lot Patches. I'm starting to think that maybe you don't want to see me at all. "

The words make him panic, wide sockets peeking from his downturned hat to gouge the seriousness of your words.

" Ne- Never never! I lov- "

" Then don't waste my time. " You smile. " Are you getting cocky because I happen to find you mildly entertaining? Do you think you have a shot with any woman out there? " You speak as if you're addressing a crippled animal. " Oh, you dumb little thing, there's nothing in that head except seeds, hm? "

There's already some color around his face. " ... Yes, ma'am. "

" Good. " Your hand reaches to pet him under the chin. " Good boy, we keep our expectations in reality, don't we? We know you're just a loser, and losers don't get to waste anyone's time. That's rude, isn't it? "

Just this once, you allow him to nod instead of verbally answering.

There's a silent beat, before one stocking clad leg raises and your heel collides with his knee, sending the monster tumbling down. It wasn't a particularly strong hit, just something to make him smarten up.

Properly trained, Patches stays down, looking up at you with poorly masked anticipation.

" Well come on, dummy. " A foot taps against the ground, shiny black pumps that he bought you, with a small moon-shaped jewel on the front. They're pretty, his eyes twinkle with happiness just looking at them on your feet. " We're not going home until I feel like you're sorry enough. "

Patches knows what to do. He flattens to the ground like no more than a worm. Anyone could realistically pass by this nook and see him prostrated before some woman, slimy green tongue out to polish already spotless shoes.

Annoyed, you swat that large hat away, putting it on yourself instead.

" My hat-! "

" How am I supposed to know if you're doing a good job if I can't see you? " He looks back down, defeated. " God, you're so stupid. "

That gets him to work. The dullahan is nothing if not dedicated, quickly getting into the task. He lavishes the sides of your pumps, tongue flirting with your skin and hands twitching on concrete when you warningly 'tsk'. The length of them is peppered in carved kisses, and he pays special attention to the jewels, huffing with what you already know to be pure neediness. His drool leaves a translucent yet slightly green sheen behind, which looks almost pretty under the light.

Or maybe you're just mildly depraved.

Not as much as Patches, at least.

" What a good job you're doing down there! " You coo, the same way you would at a golden retriever that just handed you its paw. " You've always been good at this, maybe it should be your new profession, hah. "

He makes some kind of breathy mewl, now just retracing his earlier work. You figure that's enough for now.

" Okay okay, stop, I can almost forgive you. "

Patches looks back up at you. " Almost M- Ma'am? "

" Stick your tongue out. "

He does, a rather lengthy magical muscle protruding from that gourd head. You suppose, had you the means to, you'd also give yourself a rather large tongue.

" On the ground. "

The undead makes a face, lowering it as told and likely getting a nasty flavorful of whatever filth has touched the concrete before.

One heel rises, the flat end of your sole perching against his face, the pointed end swiftly descending into that exposed clapper. You make sure to grind it in, sink it, hearing his garbled cries as Patches instinctively tries to retract his tongue. He doesn't know what to do with his own head while trapped like this, the lights in his sockets blurring when tears form around the edges, painting his face.

You don't stop until he's sobbing quietly, shaking yet defeated.

" There we go. I think I can like you again. You're always so obedient... "

Your heel punctured deep enough that you kind of have to give it a shake to release the dullahan's tongue. He makes another pained whine before moving back, holding the damaged muscle as it limply hangs off his wide mouth. It's a tad dirty, but the most striking detail is the hole on top of its flat surface, oozing some kind of thick gel that you can't quite call blood.

He rises awkwardly, back still curved, trying to wipe his own summoned tongue clean before putting it back in his mouth and swallowing his own magic.

" Huh, you could almost pierce it, pumpkin. I bet that'd look good on you. "

And like the flattery-hungry loser he is, Patches smiles faintly through the pain.

Your eyes rake down and find what comes as no surprise. He's already more than hard. In a way, it's kind of better this way, not having to work at all to get him in such a shameful state. You could give Patches a look, and he'd probably begin chubbing in seconds. The problem is keeping it that way, and preventing him from getting excited enough to end things prematurely. Your new pet won't become a disappointment, surely. Not if his discipline continues.

A decently sized cock strains against the tight fabric of his pants, already forming an unsightly patch -Hah- of wetness. You've always liked one thing about him. Well, that's a lie, you enjoy lots of things about Patches. But- The way the prominent veins along his body continue into his endowment is also very pleasing. It makes you want to hurry things along, in spite of your modus operandi of grinding out the maximum potential of every second in these encounters.

" Try not to ruin your pants before we get home, okay sweetie? " You mock. " Did you bring it, by the way? "

The dullahan nods frantically, waving his hands in front of him in a specific pattern that, upon the snap of his index and middle finger, summons forth a collar.

This velvet dark green circle with intricate leaf patterns on its exterior. Two small white jewels frame the silver hoop where the chained leash in your purse attaches. You spent some time designing this beautiful adornment, more time than he deserves really, oh but it's in your nature to be a perfectionist. There were some hiccups. Particularly around the fact that dullahans are apparently frightened by gold... Your first purchase was trashed immediately, needless to say.

Last time you met, Patches had forgotten his collar. This was a grave offense to you, punishable by sharply diminishing his time with you. See, to truly punish this undead, you can't just promise him pain or ruined pleasure, he enjoys those. To upset him, to make consequences tangible, you deny him your time- And it's wonderfully effective!

Exhibit A, Patches has remembered to bring his collar today, after the previous session lasting only half an hour.

" Good boy! Perfect. See? You can learn. " He actually preens at that. " Now put it on. "

When you clip the leash to the monster, he's staring deep into your eyes, sockets pulsing heart-shaped lights as his breath becomes shallow and hot. Oh yeah, he's checking out already.

Good.

" Walk. "

[libraryraccoon]

If I was at NRC as a normal student (not Yuu)

If I was in the NRC, i will be a Ignihyde Student (bc the official test tell me I was a Ignihyde student), the extrovert or ambivert of Ignihyde.

Aka the Ignihyde student hated by all the other Ignihyde student :DD

I will try to adopt Ortho.

Raccoon : Sign just here.

Ortho : isn't it a adopt pap-

Raccoon : shhh, you don't need to know or say what it is. Sign just. :)

Idia seeing me trying to adopt legally his little (dead and robot) brother : What the fuck-

I will be here for the Overblots.

But not for help, oh no no !

Ace : What is it ?

Raccoon : pop corn.

Deuce : Why are you eating pop corn when there is an overblot in front of you ?!

Raccoon : because it's better to watch with pop corn ? I thought everyone know that.

I would be absent from sports class. Vargas met me once in the corridors but that's it. I would never have shown up to this (torture) class.

I'm pretty sure Vargas won't even know I exist.

Vargas : Raccoon ? We have someone here who have that name ?

Jack : it's maybe the raccon that is in the trash at the back of the school ?

Ace : Oh yeah, I have seen that little guy once. But why he will be on the call list ?

(They are talking about a real raccoon, not me-)

I will doxx people for money. It's said.

Hey, I need to make money you know ? And I don't have a Leona for that like Ruggie-

Oh yeah because Ruggie will be my best friend here.

(We are the NRC cleaners, Crowley pays us to do all the cleaning)

I have seen a post saying that some beastmens and faes are awake the night and go see each others, even if I will be a human, I will join them.

Like that I will meet (and have informations) on a lot of beastmens and faes.

(Me ? Later blackmail them about this ? Please, be realistic, I care about my life ! But for a little money....)

I will be the only Ignihyde student and maybe human that will be at that "night party" (we will call it like that), and it's because I was invite by Ruggie (bestfriends benefits).

Now, for some of my hc as Ignihyde students, I headcanon that all the Ignihyde student have one time by months a party on a game with all the dorm.

And during that party, they do a lot of challenges. And that leads to some Drama and rivalry.

I'm pretty sure it's at that party that we decided who will be the Housewarden and Vice Housewarden.

The Housewarden being the 1st and vice the 2nd.

And some others things :

•I will be the NRC therapist.

I'm a good listener and I give good advices.

Pretty sure Crowley tried to hire me after finding out.

That mean I will be the therapist of all the overblotter (oh look ! I have now a lot of ennemies because I talk bad about their family/what they think-).

I would use the excuse of being a school therapist to avoid doing sports. At least I have an excuse and I won't have repercussions for (skipping) being absent from sports class.

Bye bye Vargas ! Seeing you one time in the corridors was enough for me !

•I probably would have made a contract with Azul and I would have taken Ruggie to do one too (well, that's if he and I are in first year at the same time).

Why ? For money ofc.

We will work for the Mostro Lounge only for the money.

•I will avoid the Leech (well, try to avoid them).

They scared me.

How people can not have scare of them is a question without answer for me.

•I will be hate of Vil and Riddle (even if we don't count the therapist part).

I have a bad memory, i don't care about my physic.

I can easily forget the rules, so Riddle will hate me for forget all the Queen rules but also all the NRC rules in general.

And I can literally go shopping in unicorn pajamas. Vil worst nightmare.

•Rook 🤝🏻 Me : watching people.

Nothing else to say here. It explain all by itself.

•Unexpected friendship : Me & Idia & Rook.

Every Sunday evening at the end of the week we would meet up at the Pomefiore or Ignihyde dorm and tell each other all the NRC gossip. We would have tea, cookies, popcorn and hot chocolate, and lots of gossip to be told.

Nobody in the NRC know how much we know or how we know it. They don't want to know.

•My magic.

I will have an healing magic or a anti-magic. That's all.

I don't need more magic than those two.

•I will try to adopt Grim.

Maybe Yuu too. I just want to adopt them + Ortho because they deserved all the love.

I will have a gun.

I love gun.

•Knowing too much.

If I go at NRC, even with magic, with all I know of the game and the theories ? Man, I will be the more suspicious of the all NRC, more than Rook !

I will say things like that :

Raccoon : Man, you really is an overblotter now that I see you that often !

Crowley : ??? How do you know-

Raccoon : you're dad, Levan, is Crowley. Good chance bro, we're not together in that shit-

Malleus : The fuck child of men-

Raccoon : what that feel like to be a general ?

Lilia : kid, why that question and how do you know ? I don't remember saying it to you-

Raccoon : when will you accept that you are Silver, Sebek and Malleus parental figure ?

Lilia : ... i'm not-

Raccoon : wait- we are before Malleus overblot, so that mean you are still in the denial right now.

Lilia : by the great sevens.. WHAT THE FUCH RACCOON ?!-

Me, Idia and Rook the Sunday.

[sunshineandspencer]

Idiot (Iridescent, Part 7)

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Spencer Reid, in the face of his own emotions, crashes and burns.

Word Count: 888

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™

Parts: Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6, Pt8

Spencer is back in Penelope’s office not even a week later.

In the middle of the breakroom, he’d snapped, loud and harsh, at Ava. Then let her storm off and clock out of work to go home early.

Since realising his emotions, he did the only realistic thing and distanced himself from Ava immediately. Of course she had noticed, but didn’t take it too personally, just giving him the extra time to get back to whatever he deemed as normal.

But by Friday, she’d had enough and had gently started prodding him for answers in the morning. His irritation, and fear of being caught out, caused him to finally lash out.

Once Penelope found out what he’d done, considering how quickly word spread, she had dragged him back to the cave. For a much worse conversation than the one they’d had the week before.

He doesn’t even get a plush this time, just shoved into a chair as she stood over him, hands on her hips.

“What did you say to her?”

She watched, gleefully, as he squirmed in his seat. Wanting to break through that thick, somehow genius brain of his. God, he just wanted to talk about Ava, but not like this - emotions are hard.

“That.. she’s a brown-nosed suck up who needs to stop fishing for things to do, because nothing she agrees to do will get people to like her.”

In his defence, it was supposed to come from a good place, but his meaning got lost in the translation and irritation from the morning. Along with the original reason he’d blown up in the first place.

Ava is a pushover, they both know that, most people do, which is why she gets used so often by people who don’t want to do their own work. She’s far too sweet for her own good, and whenever anyone asks her to do their work, she does. When someone came up in the breakroom to get her to finish off some reports, he finally exploded.

It was for her own good, wanting her to take care of herself and focus on her own work rather than other people’s. He’s right, he just.. chose the wrong words.

“I just.. Penelope, she already has too much on her plate, but she keeps accepting work from people. She should learn to say no to people, even if I didn’t say it in the.. best way.”

From the way Penelope’s hand twitched, he’s suddenly very glad that Penelope doesn’t like violence, or would have definitely been slapped by now. Shifting slightly as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

But, in her defence, it was finally hitting him just how bad he’d fucked up.

In his head, he had been sorting out his thoughts, and knew he would’ve eventually had a perfect way to bring up his concerns with Ava. But he’d been overly stimulated and lashed out.

He was going to address Ava’s issues, and he did, in a roundabout way. At the time, unable to think properly, it seemed like the best way to deal with it, directly telling her what he found wrong with what she did. Not liking that she spread herself so thin for people who cared so little.

It felt like the wrong words for the right situation.

Until he was met with a glaring Penelope and zero way out.

“Are you telling me that you’d finally come to terms with liking her, and the first thing you did was insult her.. to her face?!”

“Would you have preferred it if I said it behind her back?”

“I would prefer for you to start using at least one of your 187 IQ points!”

Okay, he definitely deserved that, and he was trying to resist the urge to sulk and pout, because he knew it definitely wouldn’t help his case. But he really felt like he was being scolded by his mother.

It is working, however.

All he could think about was the way Ava’s eyes had immediately widened. Letting him see in heartwrenching detail, the way each and every golden speck around her pupil dull with shock and embarrassment.

Her lips pursing as she shoved the files to his chest with a terse “you fucking do it then, since clearly it won’t make them like me”, before she stormed off to Emily’s office.

Penelope had watched the realisation dawn on his face, quickly flooding that emotion over with shame and guilt. Intervening right before he slipped from apologetic to wallowing.

She has a solution.

Ushering him up and out of her office, not paying attention to his spluttering as she practically shoved him out. Twittering happily as she felt her plans falling into place.

“Flowers - lilacs - and a card, oh, and you best get some wine. Rosé is her favourite. I’ll put through your paperwork for a day off and let Emily know, do not mess up with the first woman you’ve liked in years.”

For a few moments, they just stood facing each other, Spencer taking it all in and Penelope grinning at him. But then his smile ticked up until it matched her own, leaning in to quickly smush a kiss to her cheek and then turn to half-sprint down the corridor. Calling out over his shoulder.

“Thanks Pen! I owe you one!”

Want more?! Good!

[fumifooms]

Ok maybe kinda of a weird question you don't have to answer if you don't want to but I've seen some people saying that Chilchuck is canonically misogynistic so, as the Chilchuck especialist, do you have an opinion about that?

Anon you are brave and I love you. Listen if you, person reading this, get peeved or upset when people say Chilchuck might have had not insignificant flaws as a father and husband then probably stop reading here, we will be looking at Chilchuck like a petri dish and defile his pristine allure. Tldr: yes but actually no but really both at the same time aka people & social dynamics are complex and please let your blorbos be flawed. With that said I will be pretty casual and playful if that wasn’t clear already, sorry.

"Aren’t you happy to be in a harem party" "No it’s soul-crushing save me". Toshiro has been drinking his fear women juice since he was young, surrounded by an assassin nanny and her fellow assassin girlies, meanwhile Chilchuck having flashbacks of getting wrung out by his 4 women household…

Waiting on people is something we see he hates doing a couple times throughout canon and extras, here and how he says "it’s not a date" -bless his summer child heart- he frames being slow to get ready as a gendered trait to have? But I can forgive him for this one because honestly the framing of the whole page leans into that, it’s kinda questionable if we’re being highly critical of anything misogynistic or regressive. But it itself is the classic subversive "Women are desirable wallflowers— Wrong! They are a monstrous ruthless force that wears on the mind, body and soul" trope. I don’t fault Kui though, I got giggles from it, it makes sense for everyone’s characters, and Kui has never shied from gendered dynamics in her worldbuilding & characters so it’s not like she’ll write as if sex changes nothing and no one has opinions about it.

Alright alright let’s step back from analyzing this page specifically and get back to the question, is Chilchuck canonically misogynistic? It’s a complex question not because we don’t have hints but because it’s a very black and white answer to give and because misogynistic can be very wide or pretty narrow depending on how the term is applied.

What I would say? Yes, he is, in a realistic way that doesn’t automatically make him a piece of shit, though that doesn’t mean it isn’t uncomfortable or harmful. On the spectrum of misogyny he classifies to me as "It’s in the normalized lighthearted way of being a horny uncle who’s a little too loose about it around the dinner table", he’s a solid "He wants to treat women as pieces of meat and jokes about it but in actuality he’s a gentleman and a family careerman who has a job so he don’t really care about that rn".

Going back to Toshiro’s party, Chilchuck being weird about it being full of women doesn’t even happen only once but TWICE. I made a compilation of every time he’s crass, happens less than you might expect but the overall picture it gives throughout reading the manga is pretty straightforward. Repeatedly he’s shown to be dirty-minded and shown to objectify & sexualize women both lightheartedly and unprompted. They’re a punchline and they’re eye candy and it’s "of COURSE my succubus would be young women, of COURSE women would desire a muscled statue’s [redacted], of COURSE women are sexual beings and of course I am attracted to them".

Dungeon Meshi doesn’t bring up sexuality much and gendered dynamics tend to be more subtle than you’d expect from media in general, so there’s that, but I honestly struggle to think of any character that acts less normal about women existing than him. Like yeah he’s joking but Hien, Benichidori, Inutade and Maizuru were just breathing and doing their jobs. Who else’s misogynistic uhh, that guy working for the shadow governor that licks Cithis’ ear when she’s bound in ropes? The sheer jump from ‘makes demeaning jokes about women’ to ‘assaulter’ between these two, god.

Honestly it does feel odd to me that he’d be kinda demeaning like that about women even in a workplace setting —Chilchuck the union man out of everyone?— but Kui has spoken man idk, think what you will don’t shoot the messenger. It’s not like he’s weird about Namari? I guess he respects her too much- Wait that sounded wrong. Maybe it’s literally just because she and the other women party members are his direct coworkers, in line with his rule and all? But yeah, even if he canonically had a thing for blondes and pretty young women he has managed to only tease Marcille ceaselessly for fun & entertainment and make her hair extra shiny as his shapeshifter, you get a good behavior star there Chilchuck. He complains on waiting for Marcille to get ready in the barometz chapter and the first anime ED but he also does with Laios when he’s late to meet up the party in extras. He constantly pulls on Marcille to get her to safety as if she can’t protect herself but she’s referred to as clumsy a lot so he has that justified reasoning. He constantly berates everyone so no point to make there. He undermines Marcille’s opinions often but it’s because he dislikes mages and elves and idealism. Clearly Chilchuck knows women can be capable and clearly he can have women coworkers (and friends! Again, Namari) without belittling or sexualizing them, clearly he can be normal about women and knows that some of his attitude can be inappropriate. It’s just harmless fun to him, that he keeps for occasional playful banter and taverns and the ‘right’ moods.

And as I mentioned earlier! Chilchuck is also pretty gentlemanly and protective. As always desires vs wants and instinct vs rationality show up as themes. Yes his succubus aka his ideal, the deepest allure he can imagine, is beautiful naked women, but a chapter just before that was the bicorn, all about how faithful and virtuous he is, how his heart’s in the right place. His brain is virtuous but his heart is monkey. My point is that when it counts, aka 90% of the time and when things are serious, we don’t see signs of sexist bias and he treats women well. Often takes on a protector role or at the least takes them seriously, even Benichidori. He doesn’t want to hurt women or thinks they’re insignificant or anything. He’ll give a handkerchief to a woman in need with a slimy face.

Okay okay this is really entering speculation territory but in my own tally, the way he dismissed his wife’s ‘bad mood’ as some meaningless tantrum that he shouldn’t think any more deeply about, him starting out not reaching out to her as a resentful silent treatment, and her getting dissatisfied in the first place enough to leave makes me think he took her for granted and was kinda dismissive of her in general. Marcille’s theorical scenario is hypothetical and factually untrue at least in parts, but if we do follow it, him forgetting he’s out with his wife for once (in the precious counted time he’s home spending time with her) and not paying attention to her all outing, resulting in her being left out of conversations and just an ornament beside him the way she might have felt for a long time as his housewife waiting home for him to come back………

Editing this paragraph in: Okay I don’t know how I missed mentioning this but, when he’s asked why his wife left him, Chilchuck literally point blank thinks that being thought to have cheated on his wife is LESS SHAMEFUL than not knowing the reason why (due to poor communication skills or whatnot). It’s so ridiculous that it can be hard to see beyond it as a gag or twist, but make of this what you will but this is not a great look for his priorities and his view of women especially in regards to toxic masculinity, good lord. When I talk about him having a sense of being entitled to his wife and dismissive of her emotions that’s sort of what I mean. He thinks it’s better for people to think he mistreated his wife and did something terrible than just failed at keeping her affection for reasons he doesn’t grasp. His pride, both in giving her the silent treatment and doing damage control when talking about it to others like Marcille and coworkers, takes priority over their relationship and love.

Half-foots seem to be patriarchal. The last section of this essay’s chapter (not by me!) + combing through its half-foot chapter should give you insight on that if you want. It’s in their patronymic, it’s in the way marriage seems very important especially for women, and it’s in the implied gender roles, being a housewife whose life revolves around raising her husband’s kids and taling care of the family home waiting for her husband who’s out working to come back. I think Chilchuck is a bit a result of his environment and upbringing in that way, that most of the misogyny is internalized and subconscious and passive, it’s taking his wife for granted because not only does she trust her, his most precious person he’s known since he was a kid, but because she’s his wife, his woman, conceptually something that’s unwaveringly devoted, something that is very valued and enforced in half-foot communities. Here’s a short post on half-foot family bonds culturally + here’s a post on marriage and half-foots for more. The community aspect of half-foots is very strong, which makes sense especially for how empoverished and discriminated against they are, which does come at the expense of not unlike dwarves (dwarves which half-foots idolize) having more pressure to fit in and have a good reputation to not be cast out and have no support lines. By being scared and needing stability people will often be more conservative, etc etc, though the reverse is also often true, like Chilchuck with his union. But yes Chilchuck seems to have many biases he clings onto, harsh on especially Marcille and Laios, Marcille for her idealism, race and magic meanwhile Laios for his lack of social skills and ‘reckless’ behavior.

He also does the classic "Don’t you dare date my daughter!!", though it’s a bit up in the air because he only gets agitated about coworkers being suitors, not nearly as hostile to the idea when it’s some nameless dwarf. But y’know when a guy assumes every men is as horny and sleazy as they are so they’re like "never trust men"… Chilchuck does embody a lot the tropes of just, the everyday flawed middle aged man. The absentee father and careerman husband who does care despite it all. Disillusioned grumpy old man. Old divorced drunkard joe with a thing for cute young blonde women, as a friend put it.

We know Kui subverses tropes a lot, I definitely think Kui leans into these if nothing else for the bit. He’s tropes of the strict family Father, man doing inappropriate jokes around a beer with his drinking buddies, working man exhausted and frustrated by his job, midlife crisis. Also because of how he acts with Marcille, I always say he’s the boy on the playground pulling on the pigtails of his girl friend bc he thinks it’s funny. Because he thinks she’s pretty.

So point blank, Chilchuck respects women as individuals but he can get a little lost in the sauce when thinking about women in general and jumps to sexualizing them in ways that can be objectifying and dismissive. Casual lowkey misogyny for the bit that may or may not slip into non-jokes as well sometimes when it comes to seeing women as something inherently to defend or take for granted, though he’s well-meaning. He engages in gender roles of "men should be strong and burly" and "daughters should listen to their fathers’ opinion before dating a guy". A guy engaging in patriarchy without thinking much of it y’know, more or less passive and unaware. He’s good in economic and human rights issues but would not win the political correctness medal (though he does care about optics and is very conscious of appearing as upstanding and innocent with the elves or Toshiro’s and Kabru’s parties to avoid getting thrown in jail. Overcompensating for half-foot criminal reputations etc etc. Post on that here).

Do I believe Chilchuck would march for women’s rights? Yes. Do I believe he would make ‘ye old ball and chain’ and ‘my wife’ and ‘ah women’ jokes? Yes. Do I believe he would punch anyone making one such jokes about his wife or daughters? Yes.

I was pretty flippant bc honestly Chilchuck the Sleazy Horny Old Man is hilarious to me but yes hopefully the post was decent. "How could I be sexist? I love bitches"

[zvdvdlvr]

— Are You Gonna Kiss Me, or What?

🎵 synopsis. Mike’s normal, utterly boring day is pleasantly interrupted by a diabetic whirlwind.

🎵 warnings. Finger pricking. Foul language.

🎵 author’s note. Shoutout to @paxamillius for writing this with me and for helping me write a realistic diabetic character.

🎵 tracklist. <Track One.> <Track Two.> <Track Three.>

—— 👾

mike shook his head, re-reading the sequence of numbers written in small, practised handwriting. a small smile pulled at his lips. despite having already memorized the number and how to spell your name, he kept glancing down at the slip of paper and running his thumb over the now-smudging pen ink.

with abby already asleep, mike debates if he should call or not. he doesn’t want to wake abby, but he really wants nothing more than to keep talking with the woman that (quite literally) fell into his arms.

mike exhaled. as long as he was quiet he supposed he could stay up and talk to her- y/n. y/n l/n.

slowly mike dialed her phone number; already imagining her voice from the other line.

the line didn’t ring twice before she picked up. “hello?” she answered, her voice having that smile that mike swears made the sun shine a little brighter.

“uh, hi. this- this is y/n, right? it’s-“ mike started, tripping over his words.

“mike! mike schmidt from the mall, yeah?”

another smile: wider this time though. mike beamed. “yeah, that’s me. mike from the mall.”

——👾; 6 hours earlier

the world was spinning, blurring. y/n cursed herself once again for her forgetfulness- she had a tendency to completely ignore her health until something like this happens.

y/n’s blood sugar was extremely low. she knew she needed something fast acting: juice, fruit snacks, soda… a slushie even. but with the way y/n could function, ordering something for herself would be out of the question.

maybe walking blindly into someone will help, was y/n’s rationale. so she carefully walked the best she could to someone, occasionally slamming into a bench or counter.

y/n’s head was spinning. she cursed her pancreas for failing to do it’s one and only job.

"oh dear lord," y/n mumbled. her legs struggled to keep her upright, let alone get her anywhere. her vision was fuzzy and the edges faded in and out, black dots swimming in her line of sight. y/n cursed herself- yet again- for being as careless as she was.

getting a few weird stares and several people backing away from y/n, someone finally approached her.

"are you drunk?" a blob- man?- asked . "ma'am, consumption of alcohol and being under the influence is not permitted inside of the mall, so i'm going to have to-"

"nononono, ‘m notdrunk…" y/n's words were sloppy and rushed. Hoping and praying he believed her, she wobbled a little bit on her feet.

Her body was trembling from the adrenaline and her legs desperately threatened to come out from underneath her. "im… diabetic," she paused, swallowing. "imhaving a hypoglycemia episode." sweat trickled down the back of her neck, making her wince at the feeling. "i need… i need food, like, now, beforeipassout, andgo intoa coma" y/n took a deep breath.

the man looked around. y/n was getting weaker by the second. her legs still felt like toothpicks and jello, with nothing left to support her. "i need… i need to sit…” y/n tried to stay on her feet, but her legs went slack and she was suddenly falling.

An arm wrapped around her waist. “No,” he mumbled quietly. “You gotta show me what to get you.” The man asked. He hoisted y/n in the air, shifting her weight and carrying her bridal style to the food court. “Alright… we got… pretzels, pizza, slushies, popcor-“

"slushies." y/n answered, a barely audible sound.

he nodded.

the man cut in front of the small line at a vendor and carefully set her in a chair. "i need two red slushies, the biggest size you have. please." he pulls out his wallet and slams a few crumpled dollar bills on the counter.

the worker stared at him for a second. "mike, you work here but you have to go to the back of the li-" the woman started.

"I’m sorry, Wendy but it's a medical emergency, she's diabetic and is really close to going into a coma, so im gonna need you to hurry,” mike rushed out, sneaking a glance back at y/n. She was pale and very clammy. It was obvious that she’d pass out soon.

Wendy followed Mike’s gaze and swallowed nervously. Then she turned on her heels and got to work.

y/n had her head in her arms, resting it on the table. she felt like shit. I wish i knew his name, she thought to herself. heat flashed through her body and her hands shook furiously, she felt like she had just run a marathon but hadn't moved an inch. she tried to distract herself from how horrible she felt, what had she done to get this low? Ah that's right. she had overcorrected for a stubborn high, then guess the amount of insulin for a giant drink, which she then proceeded to spill. Shit! she hadn't eaten anything to make up for the insulin she had given.

the man came back with two huge red slushies and says: “please drink this." he sets one down in front of her, and y/n pulls it towards herself and takes a sip.

mike- focused on making sure that the woman was alright- finally registered the whispers and snickers of passerby.

“Come with me," he murmurs. Mike gently grasps her again, handing her the second slushie. "Hold on to those for me, please.” Mike carries her into a small, office-looking room. He carefully sets y/n down against a wall, and he sinks down the wall beside her. Mike holds his hand out for his slushie and waits until y/n hands it to him.

"Uh… wait, i think that's the one i drank out of." She took the drink out of his hands and placed the other one in it. "No, actually this is the one i didn't drink out of. Here switch me again."

"Please just drink the slushie," he sighed.

After about 10 minuets y/n’s blood sugar started to come back up. it was hovering in the 40-50 range which was better than what it had been but still way too low for y/n to drive home. “Hey can you check something for me?" she asked, her vision still a little swirly and her hands still shaking.

Now y/n was able to read Mike’s nametag- which thankfully had a large font. “Hi Mike,” she added with a smile.

Mike smiled back at her, eyes softening slightly at her smile- it lit up her face. “What do you need me to do? Oh and, uh, what’s your name?”

"My name is y/n, but I need you to check something on my insulin pump, my vision is still a little...weird." She motioned towards her eyes. Unable to see small things with her current impaired eyesight, it would be quite a struggle to do it herself. She pulled out the small device. Turning it on she opened it up and turned the screen towards him. "That really little number down at the bottom."

Mike takes the device and squints at the tiny numbers. "It says... 10.7 u. Is that good or bad?" he blinks.

"Oh my god,” y/n groaned. “The one time i decide to pre-bolus, this happens. 10.7 units of unnecessary insulin. Sorry for interrupting and everything. I really should've been better about it." y/n shook her head.

"Hey as long as you're okay then it's totally fine. We can spend as long as you need to in here. I don't really have anywhere i need to be and this is a lot more eventful than what I normally do anyway… I’m not really complaining." Mike glances at his watch.

After a while of waiting and periodic finger pokes y/n's blood sugar returned to a safe enough number to drive home. They had sat talking to each other the entire time. y/n learned about Abby and about Garrett, and how his mom died and dad left.

"Well, I should get going. Thank you so much for everything, Mike." y/n smiles and smiles at him. A smile that just… lights up her face. Her eyes crinkle and a dimple appeared on her right cheek. Mike swears he almost swoons- he’s never had a (pretty) girl look at him like that.

Before she gets up, y/n tilts Mike’s head towards her and she places a delicate kiss on his cheek.

Mike swallows. He knows he’s probably overthinking it, just a simple thank you he reasons. So why did y/n’s eyes dart to his lips before getting up and heading for the door?

y/n has her stuff packed up before Mike realizes it. He watches her pick up her empty cup and toss it into the trash can. But before she leaves-

"Can I- uh," Mike stops y/n, voice breathless. "Is there any chance i can get your phone number? Just, uhm, in case you....y-know... need something again."

So Mike watches y/n write down her name and telephone number on a piece of paper. He watches the way a flush appeared on the apples of her cheeks. Mike watches her offer the paper to him and delights in the way she smiles again. But this time her smile is more bashful, more shy. Mike thinks it’s adorable.

“Thank you,” Mike murmurs, taking the paper. Her fingers brushed his and the flush darkens.

“I should be thanking you, Mike,” y/n says.

Mike can’t think of what to say next. He just stands there, falling further and further into y/n’s eyes. Slowly, cautiously, Mike reaches a hand out to y/n’s waist. She closes the space between them, letting herself be pulled into Mike’s arms.

Her hands wrap around Mike’s back in an embrace, but still looking at him, waiting for his next move.

“Mike?”

“Hm?”

“Are you gonna kiss me, or what?”

Mike leans down and presses his lips to y/n’s, tasting the flavor of the slushie on her lips. He feels y/n sigh against his lips, like she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

All too soon, y/n pulled away. “You should get back to work,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Mike whisperes back.

“Call me, Mike.”

“I will,” he murmurs, lips still tender from their kiss.

——👾; present time

“I’m free this weekend- if, y’know, you want to go get dinner or something. Abby can come too if you want,” y/n says over the phone.

In all honesty, Mike’s surprised y/n remembers Abby, even though they only talked about six hours ago. “Sure! Where do you-“ Mike swallows, “where do you want to go?” He doesn’t want to go anywhere too expensive even though he wish he could. He just couldn’t afford that.

“I’m okay with anything, homestly. Abby can pick if she comes.”

Mike smiles. “I’ll talk to her about it.” He knows Abby would say yes.

The phone crackles as the two fall into momentary silence.

“I’m glad you called,” y/n admits.

”I’m glad I called, too,” Mike replies.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. In fact, Mike doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. Ever. So as he sat there, talking to y/n, Mike told himself that she was good. Good for him, for Abby. This had to be the start of something better; a change in his life, perhaps.

Even later, when Mike was getting ready to sleep, he fell asleep thinking of her.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi so I’m 15 and in a relationship for the first time so I don’t have experience with any of this stuff. My partner and I have been doing sexual stuff for a few months now I just have some questions.

First, I was wondering how we can do sexual things in a way that doesn’t bother other people in the house. Like maybe that’s a dumb question and the answer is just be quiet but idk it’s hard bc my partner is very vocal. Also there’s very few opportunities to do stuff without anyone else home so that’s not rly an option.

Also my parents have been very weird about my relationship with my partner. Making lots of odd comments such as “i wonder if they’re having sex up there” (to my brother who is a *child*) and giving me lots of looks that just kind of make me feel really bad about my relationship. I know that sex is natural but they make me feel really bad about it and I could use some advice on what to do about that

Next, my partner and I are both interested in getting in to kink but I don’t really know how to go about it. I’ve never heard of people getting into that stuff as minors and we don’t want to do anything too crazy especially since we don’t really have access to any supplies.

You’ve definitely talked about this before but could you tell me what kind of protection is best and easiest to use and obtain for f/f sex. School didn’t teach me how to use anything other than a male condom.

Thank you so much. Sorry for asking so many questions

hi anon,

your first question is going to be pretty circumstantial; I don't know what the layout of your house is like or how realistic it is to wait for privacy. the ideal if of course to wait until everyone else is either asleep or out of the house, but I recognize that the former may be difficult if not impossible for someone your age and you've already said the latter is hard to come by. using other noises, like music or TV or white noise, can be helpful, although it's unlikely to prevent your parents from speculating.

to address your second problem most directly, I'm afraid there's no much that I personally can do to rectify that. it is unfortunately very normal for parents to have an anxious, awkward, and difficult time adjusting to their children becoming sexually curious. I think the most crucial thing to remember here is that this has nothing to do with what you're doing being gross or wrong, and most everything to do with how your parents were raised to think about sex. unless they have specific concerns they want to raise with you about sexual safety, their reactions are most likely coming from a place of discomfort that they don't know how to channel appropriately. that's not a shortcoming on your part, but on the people who failed to help them develop a better way of understanding their own feelings about sex - and, yes, on them for how they're handling those feelings now.

I'm unsure exactly what you're interested in exploring, since kink covers a very broad array of activities and "supplies" could mean almost anything, but I would definitely recommend an abundance of caution in your explorations. kink is great, but that doesn't mean it's easy for for everyone. there's a reason that you seldom hear of people your age getting into kink, which is that it generally requires a great deal of practice with navigating partnered intimacy and communication - something that few teenagers have had time to develop the skills for. kink is also something that many people find works best as a communal activity, by finding others to help introduce them around and sharing experience to help safely explore their fantasies; for obvious safety reasons, few kink spaces are looking to admit 15 year olds. by all means, do your research - Evie Lupine's youtube channel is a great place to start, with a backlog of hundreds of videos covering all kinds of kink-related topics - but be careful with how you act on it, and recognize that kink comes with more potential complications and risks than "vanilla" sex that cannot be taken lightly.

if both parties have vulvas and vaginas then you can use dental dams for protection during oral sex, latex or nitrile gloves or finger cots to cover hands/fingers, and external ("male," although there's nothing inherently gendered about them) condoms for any penetrative toys (or cut them down one side to flatten them out and make the aforementioned dental dams).

please don't apologize for asking questions! questions are how you learn and stay safe :)

[like-it-or-not-i-am-alive]

Sitting and thinking about how we have absolutely no idea of what is to come.

This could be a stressful four years of financial difficulties. They could literally take away our human rights. Or both.

People are either in the streets celebrating or crying in their beds. There are people playing optimist saying it couldn't possibly be that bad. There are people saying it's WWIII coming.

I don't know what to expect. I want to be realistic. I don't care about cutting corners and sparing feelings. I want everyone to be prepared. I just... I don't know what to prepare for except for the worst. It's so much better to be prepared for doom and meet nothing than it is to realize too little too late that doom has come to your door.

I have witnessed how quickly things can change when they want to. Florida was once a very queer friendly state. At least in major areas. I used to pride myself in Ybor's strong drag history. Our large pride parades and our ample youth support. There were bad patches, of course, it's always going to be rough outside of the cities... and lets be honest, safe for queer people didn't mean the same thing fifteen years ago that it does now. Safe for queer people fifteen years ago was facing less harassment and leading somewhat normal lives.

When I was in high school, gay marriage was legalized across the country. Most states, including Florida, had discrimination protection. Things were getting better.

It took only a year for things to hit the fan. So quickly, Desantis was able to rip my safety away. It took no effort. None. People STILL struggle to get gender affirming care. They tried to ban it even for COUNSELLING.

I wasn't yet on HRT when that happened. It was one of my big motivations to start. I had the privilege and luck to start HRT because I am on my parent's health insurance plan. Plus, I was able to pay out of pocket for the prescription so that if something like this happened I wouldn't get dinged.

Even with my privileged access to insurance and ability to drive a long distance, it took me a long time to start. I wanted to start months before I was able to.

They then tried to criminalize trans people with updated gender markers. They attempted to target trans people by enforcing all Florida IDs to have their AGAB gender marker. Those with updated licences could face a fine or even jail time.

That was VOTED IN. THEY VOTED IT IN.

The only reason it did not fly was because a (very merciful and kind) judge shot the fucking bird as it flew. Stating it was CLEARLY targetting and therefore against the state constitution.

Did you know I didn't even know about it until it was voted in? They snuck it in. They could do it because they wanted to.

When we entered 2024, one of the first deaths of a transgender person was in Florida.

It took only a year for Florida to go from a safer state for queer people to being marked UNSAFE for queer travel.

It took only one year.

I don't trust the "it won't happen" anymore. I was told that so many times, and then it DID. It DID happen.

I don't know what to expect from this. Like I said, I want to be realistic. I just don't know where to look for direction anymore.

I'll be working on some resources.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I may be able to answer them. If not, I'll at least post it so someone else might be able to.

Keep your heads up, kids. Keep your ears sharp and your eyes focused. We will be ready to face this. Whether that means facing rising grocery bills or facing a militia, we will be ready. Together.