#if wisdom can start over at any age then so can you

[dadsbongos]

giving minimum wage clerk laios sloppy

3.1 k words / warnings - oral sex, hand jobs, public but it isn't focused on, you call laios 'good boy', not proofread

summary - you flirt with your coworker laios and suck him off in an alley outside

~~~

Laios slumps against the bag racks after returning the pharmacy key up front, prompting you to be nosey and ask,

“What’d he need?”

“Condoms.”

“Oh.”

“Right? I don’t get why they’re so shy about it,” Laios yawns, squeezing his eyes shut to revel in the sweet resulting burn, “It's worse to go in unprotected.”

“For sure,” you hadn’t meant oh as in oh, you’d meant oh as in oh because you don’t want Laios to talk about condoms. Him talking about condoms will make you think of him using one, which is only going to fluster you.

“He also wanted Plan B.”

“Crazy.”

He yawns again, then letting his head droop while bracing himself against the end of your lane. Arms pin straight and (mostly) visible, since all he’s wearing is a black Tee. Past the edges of his store apron is red vinyl, crackled from no doubt years of wear and wash. He’d shown up with a hoodie, which is strange because it’s the middle of summer, and no matter how hard you pray: the nighttime provides little relief. Either way, you’re glad to see he hasn’t snuck it on -- his arms look so much better bare.

“You tired?” a stupid question on your part.

Thankfully, Laios is your favorite coworker for a reason. He earnestly answers with a weary nod and quiet, “Yeah.”

“Poor thing,” you sit against the divot to your left, where your own set of bags rests and perch your chin in your hand, “How come? Usually you don’t get the sleepies until ten.”

And again, if it were anyone but Laios, you’d be mortified to have let that tidbit slip.

Laios perks up, scrambling for his phone as he speaks, “I was finishing that red dragon set.”

“Jeez,” you lean forward as he holds up a picture of the completed plastic array of knock off Legos; more affordable and just as dependable, “You did that all last night?”

“Took four hours, but it was worth it.”

“I thought you were gonna complete it on your weekend.”

“I was, but then, look!” he swipes over the screen before shoving it back into your face, “A winged lion!”

“Oh, cool,” when you feel that’s too bland, you add, “Isn’t that the final piece in your Griffin set?”

“Technically,” he grumbles, “I hate how they called it the Griffin set. Only one of them is a Griffin. This is just a hybrid, and the other one’s a Hippogriff. But it still looks super cool, and the instructions are way longer than any of the other ones.”

Laios looks up from where you were supposed to be staring at his screen, finding that you’re instead watching him with a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks heat up at being caught. Just before you can stutter out an excuse, though, Laios is speaking again,

“Awesome, right?”

“Very,” you confirm with a nod.

“I’ll have to move some stuff so I can display it on my desk properly. I just have no idea where,” he pockets his phone, rolling his head onto his shoulder, “I’d have Marcille or Chil’ help but they’ll probably just tell me to trash it all.”

“Aw, I’m sure they wouldn’t! They're your friends.”

“Right. They just…”

“They tease a little too hard.”

“Exactly.”

“You can say something, you know?”

“It’s easier to just ignore,” he shrugs.

You open your mouth to retort, to encourage him to tell his friends off, but a demon beats you to it.

“Well, don’t you two look bored!” all warm fondness freezes in your chest the minute an approaching middle-aged man says that, “Break time’s over!”

Another reason Laios is your favorite is that he doesn’t find those jabs funny. You even heard that back when he first started, he’d reply to those remarks with stern sincerity. Now in his ancient wisdom, he just lets you blankly stare the man down. With clerks like Doni, you feel a pressure to at least feign a smile lest he overcompensate by actually fake-laughing.

You suffer down the interaction with as few words as you can get away with before bidding the man a goodnight.

“I hope he crashes,” you sneer, flipping open the silver cap of your change dispenser and confirming your coins can go a little longer before being filled.

Laios hums halfheartedly -- long now used to your aggro behavior towards customers you don’t like, and no longer prone to bouts of wide-eyed horror. His head is turned towards the doors, gaze lazily flicking over self-checkout to assess if anyone that way needs assistance.

You take the moment to assess him. Neck stretched and lashes beating his cheeks with every heavy blink. His lips are pressed firm, likely subconscious, and from the quirk in his hip you can tell he’s got a leg crossed over the other.

Breaking you from the study, Laios bellows another exhausted huff.

Before you can cast a cursory glance towards the clock on your screen, your supervisor is chirping from beside you, “Last break!”

So it must be nine.

God, two more hours of this? Laios sounds ready to collapse.

After signing off in order for Kabru to hop onto the register, you slip between the little gap where checkout lanes end and SCO begins. Opening one of the grab-n-go fridges with trepidation.

Does he even like energy drinks?

You’re almost certain you’ve seen him mull over them at least once… before ultimately deciding to not buy one…

He definitely doesn’t like coffee. You recall him telling Kabru the bitter taste was off-putting enough, never mind how it devastated his gut (which was entirely too much information, but it made you laugh).

Gatorade makes him think of his high school gym class, and you take that as a negative considering he nearly shivered upon just remembering the period.

Ugh. He needs the energy and there’s a three for five deal on the Monster anyway. You snatch three of the flavors that look most appealing from a Laios-point-of-view and rush to self-checkout.

“Plan on being up all night?” one of the attendants, Toshiro, warily approaches.

“No, uhm, it’s… It’s three for five! That’s like, 1.50 each!”

Mithrun, the other SCO cashier, is staring down a woman that frequently attempts walking out without paying, “I thought you didn’t like Monster.”

“The fruit punches are okay.”

“You didn’t buy fruit punch.”

“Go fuck yourself, Mithrun.”

He blinks at you slowly, “Okay.”

With an agitated scoff, you strut back to register six and saddle up by Laios, loudly clinking sweaty drinks against the faux wood surface. Kabru hurriedly checks the time, to which you interrupt,

“I’m not going to the break room, I’ll just sit here for ten minutes.”

Visibly restraining himself from pointing out you’re not supposed to do that, Kabru nods and clears his throat to greet a couple pulling in. His eye twitches with the urge to remind them loads of less than five items should go to self-checkout rather than a register. One day, you’re sure, he’ll crack -- and you desperately want to be there when he does.

“So,” you case your hands around the drinks so Laios doesn’t accidentally bag one for the couple, “Do you like Monsters?”

He frowns at you, lips flapping vapidly. Internally struggling between asking if you’re serious or if you’re being mean on purpose.

Picking up his turmoil, you blurt, “The drink! I know you like monsters. Do you like Monsters?”

“The fruit punch ones are good.”

You shouldn’t like his answer as much as you do, “I like them, too. But, uh, I didn’t get it…”

Kabru sighs as both of you go without greeting or thanking the customers before they leave.

“Oh, trying new ones?”

“No, not really. I got them for you? Kind of…”

Kabru’s icy stare pierces you, annoyance replaced with interest. You’re reminded of why he stays at this job despite hating it: drama.

“I thought, maybe, you’d want one since you’re super tired. And they were three for five, so I basically had to buy them.”

Laios silently looks at where your hands cage the cans, when you realize he’s waiting to see the flavors you pull away like you’ve been pinched. He leans on his elbows to better read each can, sleeves on his shirt riding up to expose more skin.

Laios likes orange juice so you got Ultra Sunrise. Laios likes cheesecake so you got Orange Creamsicle because they’re both sweets. And Laios supports his sister’s lesbian relationship, so you got Ultra Violet because that’s basically lavender.

His brows furrow down at the lineup before he reaches out and tips the middle one into his palm: Orange Creamsicle.

“You should have the other ones, I’d feel bad taking them too,” Laios admits, cracking open the drink, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” when you notice Kabru hasn’t blinked since the interaction started, you jerk your head towards him, “Want one, mister manager?”

“Assistant front end manager,” Kabru sours, judging how your eyes repeatedly fall to Ultra Sunrise before taking Violet, “I don’t even have real power.”

“You’re basically a real manager, I don’t see Yaad or Thistle out here. Like ever. Even Delgal doesn’t come out of the office!”

To avoid accepting flattery, he scrounges around the cabinet beneath your receipt printer for ‘PAID’ stickers to slap on each drink.

Laios, meanwhile, sinks into his own head. The distress he felt when you asked if he liked monsters was downright alarming. He wonders if he would’ve felt that level of despair if it were anyone else asking.

Logically, he knows it’d be more hurtful because you and him are friend-ish and talk often, naturally meaning you hear about his interests quite a bit. Deeper down, past a thudding chest and into his churning gut he can tell it's more than that.

And from how hypnotizing he finds the sight of your throat bobbing around swigs of carbonated caffeine, he’s certain there’s more to his feelings than that.

But in all his years as a trusted courtesy clerk at his local branch of a large corporation grocery store, he’s seen many people fall victim to the allure of workplace incest. Subsequently, he’s seen many people quit over those fallouts.

Laios sips from his drink, trying to distract from such thoughts by taming a cringe at its bubbly stabbing on his tongue.

How could he even assume you felt that way about him? He can’t be sure you’re available for mingling.

“Are you single?” he asks, without much thought. That’s a casual topic, right? Lots of people are concerned with dating at your shared age.

Kabru signs out of the register as your break comes to a close, stubbornly lingering right behind to hear your response.

“Why?” a nervous chuckle bubbles out, you beat yourself for it, “You interested?”

Laios drinks again, shooting Kabru a pointed look.

Kabru can read it perfectly well, it’s a glare that reads: GO AWAY, GO AWAY, GO AWAY. Instead of listening, he cheerfully asks, “Ready for your last break too, Laios?”

“Yeah, I’ll take it right here. You should go away.”

“Oh!”

You snort, fastening a hand over your entire jaw as if to physically repress the sound.

“Oh,” Kabru repeats, quieter, “Someone has to bag, though…”

Laios steps back with a solemn nod, wiping his clammy hands against his uniform apron. Despite picking up on the dejected tone of Kabru’s voice, Laios’ only curiosity is if you thought he looked cool being so blunt, or did he come off as some dickhead tool?

(much less some dickhead tool that speaks harshly with a very polite, very friendly supervisor)

Both you and Kabru watch as Laios snakes through the seasonal aisles toward the break room. Once he’s out of sight, Kabru’s eyes stab into you, lip twitching, “So?”

“So, what?”

Kabru’s beams at you silently.

“Ew, do not look at me like that.”

“How long?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“I'm a supervisor! I’m supposed to know what’s going on with my fleet.”

Before you can properly lecture him on referring to his coworkers as a ‘fleet’, a pair of potential teenagers slam thirty packs of sour beer onto your conveyor belt. Excitement to card them floods you.

Thankfully, Laios’ break seems to blow by -- he’s soon muttering an apology to Kabru and replacing him at the head of your lane.

“Back already?”

Laios hums, starkly avoiding your eyes. His sudden, almost uncharacteristic, shyness compels you to take forward charge,

“I’m single, by the way.”

“Me too,” he keep looking at you, then away, then at you, then away. Over and over again until eventually you’re craning to be forced in his sight.

“You asked for a reason, right?” you click your tongue and wink in good humor, “You want me to clean your belt, huh?”

Really, you should’ve known better than to try playing coy because all Laios does is shrug with a polite yeah, sure before backing away for you to spray down his smaller conveyor.

Oh. Oh, you can’t just not suck his dick.

“No, Laios, I have a proposition.”

…

Despite no promise of getting the favor returned, you don’t know if you’ve ever been so excited to clock out before. Scurrying out as soon as your legs could carry, barely managing to bid Kabru farewell before rounding the side of the building.

Laios is leaning against the bumpy wall, hands laced at his hips and thumbs circling.

“Hey, pervert,” you coo.

His face flushes, eyes widening, “You’re a pervert, too.”

When it comes to him, you don’t mind being labeled crass. Or even nasty. It’s why you’re so pliant to crash onto your knees while yanking his jeans apart and down his thighs. He hisses, honey gaze sweeping up towards the empty road through the thin line of trees.

Noticing his distraction, you intentionally scrape nails against his flesh when wrangling his boxers.

A soft, warm palm hesitantly cups the side of your head -- his concern somewhere between pulling you to stand and keeping your attention where it is. Though, he remains conflicted on how embarrassed he should be, especially given the way you’re biting your lip.

“Already?” you coo, teasing a finger along the hot underside of his cock, “I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“You’re just… so pretty,” Laios huffs, praying you can’t make out the glisten of sweat across his forehead.

“Aw, thanks, big guy,” you chastely kiss his flushed tip, giggling quietly when it twitches into your welcoming pucker, “Not so bad yourself.”

He whines, raising a brow at you almost expectantly, though respectfully restraining his hips from jumping towards you. Deciding to put the man out of his suspended misery, you lave him with your tongue in a broad stroke before sucking him in.

Velveteen cheeks clamping around him as you squeeze around him, tongue pressing against smooth skin. He has no particular taste beyond ‘man’, but you hum and slide him deeper as if he’s sugary sweet. Laios lets out a muted moan, biting the hand not leisurely splayed along the side of your face.

Curling fingers beneath the bone of your jaw, he feels out the bulge plumping your cheek -- heart throbbing between his ribs at the recurring thought its his fault.

Obsessively, he mulls that point over and over until he’s unthinkingly bucking into your sodden mouth. A lewd slurp from you makes his head swivel sharply, as if someone would await this point before calling the cops.

Wiry, trimmed though not kempt, flaxen pubes tickle your nose. Laios coaxes you to bury him deeper in the cinch of your throat, and you’re content to comply. Gags and sputters are lulled from you, saliva gushing through the seam on your lips and wetting his pelvis. Drool rolling down your chin and ruining the black shirt and apron you’d thrown on before leaving.

“Aw,” he pants above you, swiping away the slick with his thumb pad, “you’re gonna ruin your shirt. It’s my favorite one, too.”

Liking the way he babbles, you pull back to hawk twah into your hand and playing his balls before slipping off his cock completely,

“Yeah, baby? You like it?”

Rolling your tongue around his tip and teasing him against your cheek, fluttering wet lashes up at him.

“Uhhh…” he whimpers, “Your arms look good in it, and I can see your collar bones…” his breath hitches, adam’s apple springing with desire, “I love when you wear that shirt.”

Laios plops free, smearing spit and pre against your hot skin. Before you can obsess over the admission too long, you’re moving to bite his hips. Fully intent on bruising him. Your hand sweeps up from his nuts to stroke him, fist blurring along his cock with soaking click, click, clicks.

With a hiss, his hand flies to the crown of your head -- not pushing either way, only grasping firm and needy. You bite harder, latching to suck the flesh swollen as you flick your wrist while jerking him off. His hips thrust against your hand, absolutely mewling.

“Good boy,” you grin into his burning pelvis, “Fuck my fist, Laios. You wanna cum for me?” he nods, mouth only capable of leaking choked versions of your name, “Wanna cum in my mouth?”

He cannot hide his gasp, jerking in your grasp.

Your hand slows, much to his pathetic displeasure, “Speak then, Laios. Good boys speak.”

“Please!” he barks, entirely uncaring if anyone around the corner could hear, “I want to cum in your mouth, can I cum in your mouth? I want to bad.”

Resuming your previous speed, you nod (though not without a “Good boy, Laios, very good.”) before flattening your tongue beneath his weeping tip. Laios digs his shoulders against the wall, fervently pistoning his cock through the cramped hole of your first and toward your mouth. Sliding along the buds of your tongue. Pitchy moans and huffs overpower the drone of faraway cars.

With a hushed grunt and “fuck” from overhead, Laios is splattering -- drowning your palette. Warm and thick, you barely scrape the salty taste before shucking it down with an instinctual gulp.

“Ah!” Laios makes a quiet hack of protest, then sighs, “You didn’t have to,” breathlessly adding, “I know some people hate the taste.”

Weirdly, you didn’t. You’re unsure if that’s something you should share, however.

Rather, you stumble onto your feet, wiping the back of your hand over your mouth in case of any… spillage. Then follows the sudden wave of shame -- regardless of Laios being a full consenting adult, and your previously steadfast attitude, you do feel like a pervert. You feel like he’s going to look down on you. You feel like-

You’re nearly startled into the bushes when you look up, Laios’ eyes split open and gleaming in the moonlight with unsettling brightness. Fists clenched at his sides after what you’re sure is the world-record for pulling one’s pants back up.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks simply.

Or maybe he’s just as into you as you are him.

[sovenusian]

Matured Energy of Each Sun Sign

(does not to relate to what age you are.)

A matured Aries is a master communicator and story teller, they can easily pull and hold the attention of the crowd on them, only this time it is to shine light on something beyond them, and it's usually the wisdom they have gathered on their spiritual journey of having the self as the center of their wants and needs.

A matured Taurus is the tamed bull. They become much more calm and understanding of ways of life and mindsets differing from their own, and don't feel the need to make known, how thorough their stances on their beliefs are. They loosen up a bit, like a Cane Corso allowing a rambunctious chihuahua to feign dominance.

A matured Gemini uses the seemingly fractured personality to create genius works and can masterfully connect with any age group or walk of life. They respect they are the embodiment of "I have an idea" but on drugs (lol) and live in that truth. They don't provide tolerance for what they do not like around them.

A matured Cancer stopped being petty and stops wading in the murky waters of emotional manipulation, and starts wielding these energies as gift, for others. You may not find a more generous, selfless, nurturing being. They have the strength to grow other people and bring what's dead back to life.

A matured Leo finally takes more pride in the impact of it's works, more than the ability to do them or be recognized for being the one to do them. They enjoy showing the character traits that truly make them beautiful. The humility they acquire despite having achieved a great deal of refinement, is what becomes what makes them shine at their brightest.

A matured Virgo learned to put themselves, their hearts truly first. Their dutiful and ambitious drives have taught them their accompanying lessons, which are to allow yourself to relax, you are enough, you really are so damn dope, and comparing your output to the logistics was a stressful way to live and that is, the past. It's a death to criticism and a birth to healthy analyzation.

A matured Libra has learned how to be in love with love, in a healthy way. In love with Real Love; with the raw energy and authenticity of it's energy, that way when humans and opportunities come around that claim to be Love, they can be distinguishing and keep their own heart set on what they have learned to be it's truth. They have mastered detachment.

A matured Scorpio has adjusted their perspective, placing the abilities of being extremely passionate and emotionally intense, only in situations that don't create more chaos. Their lifelong journey for true power has moved them into a space where they are more settled and accomplished. They learn the rhythm of life and can finally become selfless, and this is where their energy is truly it's most powerful.

A matured Sagittarius is the ember stage of fire; warm, spreading and long lasting. The knowledge and philosophies acquired over the years are now steeped, grounded in substance and embedded in a person that can finally sit down long enough, and have the patience, to share it's inspirations. Their habit to be generous and spreading have switched out it's impulsive nature for selectivity and self- preservation.

A matured Capricorn drops the shrewdness, and can be an exemplified patriot of what they stood for when they initially started their ambitious climb of hard earned success. They realize just because they are the goats, does not mean anybody and everything are the rocks and steps to ascend upon, and they warm their heart up enough to trust others with their vulnerabilities. They retire their need to be serious for the upholding of the many responsibilities all Capricorns are dealt, and they let that beautiful ability to entertain and bring joy be what they now lead and corale others with.

A matured Aquarius honors the unbeaten path they chose and created by tooth and nail, by sharing with others the lessons learned from it. Their ability to be friendly and connect with anyone, becomes more filled out, & it becomes harder for them to be perceived as disingenuous, because they can now choose the role they'll play in the life of every individual they meet, and share the gems needed like the sages they were born to be. They feel the freedom to become even more obscure.

A matured Pisces is a vessel of universal love. They spend their lives being a collage of all the human personality could offer, from kind to cruel, yielding to stubborn, and they take each lesson from their colorful experiences, and only extract the most optimistic, high frequency wisdom from them. They keep their mystery while their ability to impart love to others unfolds endlessly.

[vivalabunbun]

Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house. 

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night. 

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction. 

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.” 

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts. 

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood. 

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory. 

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things. 

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings. 

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair. 

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?” 

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits. 

Alhaitham skips over that section. 

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.  

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him. 

How romantic. 

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk. 

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.  

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence. 

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off. 

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.  

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink. 

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake. 

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter. 

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street. 

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah. 

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in. 

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels. 

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth. 

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything. 

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement. 

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time? 

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream. 

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table. 

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that. 

“Whichever flowers you want.” 

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited. 

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle. 

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose. 

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy. 

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him. 

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?” 

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’. 

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough. 

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist. 

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh. 

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him. 

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband? 

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips. 

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride. 

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within. 

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar. 

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities? 

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?” 

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes. 

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium. 

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine. 

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?” 

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything. 

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight. 

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.” 

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night. 

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping. 

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it. 

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief. 

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below. 

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out. 

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for. 

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?” 

“Y-your fingers.” 

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance. 

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern. 

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling. 

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls. 

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step. 

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse. 

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?” 

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside. 

“C-cummin-” 

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy. 

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force. 

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature. 

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you. 

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive. 

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes. 

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself. 

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head. 

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions. 

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension. 

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles. 

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you. 

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit. 

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair. 

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin. 

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort. 

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder. 

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced. 

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder. 

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom. 

“I love you too.” 

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin. 

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours. 

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid? 

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities. 

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic. 

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices. 

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high. 

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently. 

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation. 

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him. 

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine. 

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along. 

 Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception. 

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure. 

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star. 

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite. 

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving. 

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head. 

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..” 

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice. 

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep. 

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in. 

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know. 

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist. 

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss? 

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed. 

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises. 

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table. 

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion. 

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered. 

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass. 

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink. 

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime. 

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass. 

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone. 

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his. 

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours. 

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone. 

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves. 

‘You must uphold the clauses.’ 

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now. 

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers. 

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him. 

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home. 

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids. 

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed. 

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else. 

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.” 

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.” 

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do. 

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers. 

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more. 

No. 

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted. 

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek. 

“Welcome home, Haitham.” 

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity. 

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines. 

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here. 

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”  

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths. 

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you. 

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers. 

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth. 

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet. 

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him. 

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough. 

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.” 

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf. 

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace. 

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth. 

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier. 

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time. 

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!” 

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side. 

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

 Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends. 

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side. 

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms. 

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped. 

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold. 

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls. 

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence. 

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls. 

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?” 

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter. 

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated. 

“Mmm,” you hummed. 

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.  

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again. 

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house. 

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees. 

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire. 

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up. 

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours. 

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily. 

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady. 

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer. 

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face. 

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them. 

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests. 

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses. 

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure. 

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths. 

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth. 

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch. 

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back. 

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed. 

“Just call for me.” 

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun. 

“Wait,” came your soft call. 

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips. 

“Thank you, Haitham.” 

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable. 

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets. 

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten. 

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now. 

“Come here?” 

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits. 

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs. 

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours. 

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it. 

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms. 

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air. 

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey. 

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home. 

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.” 

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen. 

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him. 

“Alhaitham.” 

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire. 

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side. 

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity. 

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make? 

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce. 

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time? 

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind. 

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion. 

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent. 

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting. 

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent. 

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms. 

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you. 

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes. 

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back. 

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation. 

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans. 

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret. 

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband. 

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have. 

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table. 

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take. 

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires. 

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction. 

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him. 

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs. 

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it. 

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his. 

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night. 

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.” 

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue. 

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him. 

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears. 

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room. 

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep. 

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom. 

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry. 

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning. 

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth. 

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand. 

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet. 

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles. 

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own. 

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement. 

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon. 

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together. 

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle. 

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself. 

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him. 

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched. 

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t. 

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow. 

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again. 

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes. 

The ending clause of that contract be damned. 

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears. 

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away. 

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape. 

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call. 

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.  

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

[swordoffrivolousthings]

The gods in PJO are not godly enough, in my opinion

I will start this rant by saying that this is only one of my problems with the PJO series. I understand why Riordan has humanized them, I know this is a middle school age book series. But I am older and I want to make them freaky and strange and kind of eldritch. With little to no explanation as for my choices.

ZEUS. He is the Olympian king of the gods, god of the sky, weather, law and order, destiny and fate and kingship. He is the law, as any king is. Every word he says is godly law, every little order will be followed. He is the king. So, he is stone-faced, made of marble, with no expression other than thoughtfulness and severeness (even if he sometimes isn't). His eyes are pure lightning, the hurricanes that ravage the world and the gentlest of summer rains. Most days, when he speaks of future events, they tend to happen that way, if not overruled by a higher power. His very presence is the ozone layer being brought down, heavy, tiring mortals and demigods out quickly. He treads lightly, with steps like gentle patters of rain, but his every breath is thunder.

HERA. The goddess of marriage, women, the sky and the stars of heaven, and the Olympian queen of the gods. Marriage, despite her own being something less than aspiring, is sacred. Couples that marry are under her protection, she still blesses their marriages. She sky shifts with her emotions, getting darker and night starting to fall. Her himation worn over her head, the only garment visible, reflecting the sky above. Her eyes, two bright stars, seeing something more than human perception can begin to understand.

POSEIDON. Olympian god of the sea, earthquakes, floods, drought and horses. His body is not, just from the corner of the eye, made of muscle, bones and tendons. Water, swirling and moving in the shape of a man, the odd strand of algae. Then you turn and he is barely human, but not saltwater. The waves seek and tug at his heels whenever he walks along the beach. His eyes, oceanic tectonic plates crashing, sending tsunamis to devastate the world. The air around him is salty, sea air clinging to his skin. Algae appear in his wake, reeking of the sea.

DEMETER. Olympian goddess of agriculture, grain and bread who sustained mankind with the earth's rich bounty. In her wake, every step makes a grain sprout, growing tall and healthy, and nothing can take it down. The seasons are slowly blooming and booming in her presence, the spring more verdant, the summer hotter, autumn plentiful beyond measure and winter always frigid. From behind her ears sprout oats and barley, always young and vibrant green, crowning her in the coming bounty. Her eyes are the colour of wheat, and when the wind blows the shadows in her eyes move with it.

ARES. Olympian god of war, battlelust, courage and civil order. He is war, bloody and cruel, senseless, personified. His very presence makes fights break out, indignities and betrayals happen. He is an oppressive force that bring the bravery out of the people, along with all the hate. If he stays long enough in one place, even Olympus, war breaks out, be it civil or not. This is why he never stays in one place too long. He is luting for blood, but war had wearied him. He will not do the same mistake twice, even in war. His eyes are the open wounds of soldiers, bleeding, infected, dying skin and rotting meat.

ATHENA. Olympian goddess of wisdom and good counsel, war, the defence of towns, heroic endeavour, weaving, pottery and various other crafts. Every tapestry and pot and garment worked by hand that is not up to her godly standard shrivels and turns to ash in her presence, obliterated by her beyond-human perfectioned craft. Towns are instantly protected when she is there, good grace and godly favour. War, like Ares, follows her. It is not kinder, nor is it bearable. Calculated, cold, some would argue that her wars are crueler, sadistic. Eyes like garment fiber and shattered pots, blood covering them.

APOLLO. Olympian god of prophecy and oracles, music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young. The sun, a power passed on, burns under his skin. It is the worst in the summer months, when the sun is more preeminent. His music, lighting every room in shades of enticement, is otherworldly, his voice, be it in song or word, is a mastery of perfection. From his hands, a single touch can be salvation or sickness. His arrows, silver for his twin, always strike true, no matter the target. His presence brings prophecies and fates to light. The power of the sun is in his eyes.

ARTEMIS. Olympian goddess of hunting, the wilderness and wild animals. She was also a goddess of childbirth, and the protectress of the girl child up to the age of marriage. Around her sprout forests, wild and untainted, a world where humans could get lost in and never be found again. Wild animals prowl after her, protectors and friends of her hunters. When the night is darkest, a power inherited, her skin lights up, a moon to shine in the dark of the shadows. Her hunters, her girls, are protected and her wrath is painful and cruel, like her domains, and they are recognisable by their golden arrows.

HEPHAESTUS. Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen, metalworking, stonemasonry and sculpture. Beneath his skin flames are visible, a moving part of him, like tattoos. Every piece of metal he works with, no matter how briefly, turns into beatiful and powerful tools, an art all of their own. His buildings are steady and everlasting, the stone protected by his touch. His eyes, the hammer hitting metal, are coloured in such a way that they resemble statue's eyes.

APHRODITE. Olympian goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation. Born of sea foam and godly blood, the salt clings to her. Curls her hair and makes her glow, the power of the sea just under her perfect skin. Everyone finds something beautiful in the face of beauty. It is enchanting, a spell most can hardly exist. She is everything everyone could ever want, a goddess for everyone's taste. Yet her anger is born of the sea, a cruel and unforgiving sort of death. To make love dislike you is to lose it all in the blink of an eye. To disrespect a goddess means death.

HERMES. Olympian god of herds and flocks, travellers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. He speaks in languages long lost, and his travel notes are written in queer glyphs and writing systems. Sheep like him, without doubt. The souls of humans clash and itch to follow him when he enters a room, beyond willing to be taken to the underworld. The stars illuminate his path, a road he knows by heart but they don't care. They will guide him, no matter what.

DIONYSUS. Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Vines grow from his footsteps, water and seawater and nectar and any other drink turn to wine in his hand. Where he is, the frenzied, happy and drunk follow, a retinue of people that enjoy and enjoy and enjoy. There is nothing not to like at first glance, and only at first glance. When one looks closer, the insanity begins. It is like sparks in his eyes, a nonsensical word past his lips. When you look closer at the people, there is no happiness in the thaws of madness.

HESTIA. The virgin goddess of the hearth and the home. It does not make her kind, because the gods rarely are. It makes her steady, the fire in the home that keeps the chill away from making itself at home. The fire that lights the way back home, sacred in temples and to extinguish it is to forsake her favour. Homes she has blessed are cozy, full of love, of safety. It does not make them fireproof.

HADES. The king of the underworld and god of the dead. He, king over bones and lost memories. His wife, unnamable, his presence like the heavy hand of time on mortal shoulders. Bones and skulls and the wispy whisper of the lost are his retinue. Half decomposed corpses his servants and valets and butlers. His name, scorned, is never said but on the eve of the winter solstice, when death is the surest companion. His eyes, dark but brittle as bone, promise something any other god can't understand.

PERSEPHONE. Goddess queen of the underworld, wife of the god Hades. She was also the goddess of spring growth. Her presence brings with it the smell of the first flowers of spring, little by little making the world greener. But her steps are always silent, always just a little far from the ground. She is a queen, death is her and her husband's domain. Of course she is ghostly, terrifying. Her perfume is of freshly dug earth and autumnal rain, the weeps of widows and widowers, the death of the young and elderly. Her name is unspoken, a curse when invoked. You will not hear her name on Olympus, in mortal mouths. Kore, Despoena, her titles are safe. Her eye is not benevolent, when it's attention is captured.

[peachsayshi]

➳ (minors, ageless, blank blogs dni) 

okay, okay, but imagine having a crush on your big brother/sister’s best friend, suguru.

geto knows all about it, by the way, because you make it impossible to prove to him otherwise with the way you act so shy and coy around him, and it really just makes him grow to have the softest little heart for you, and only you.

you were always close enough to admire him but he lures you away before you even get a chance to crack the surface of his beautiful shell. for five years you watch with envious eyes as he navigates his romances, basking other girls with attention that you only ever dreamed of. 

at twenty-two, you didn’t waste away your precious focus with any other guys (not yet anyway) - you were too busy with your university studies to even consider the possibility of a relationship...but an opportunity presented itself suddenly, a chance of something new when a friend lightly brushed their lips over your own in the middle of a study session. 

your face is hot by the time you arrive at suguru’s apartment. you’ve remained connected since your first meeting, but you only started getting closer to him in the last year. 

you know that you’re always welcome, but he’s still surprised to see you when he opens his front door. 

he invites you in, let’s you lounge on his comfortable sofa while he makes you tea. meanwhile, you soak in his bachelor pad, taking in the details of the balance between his modern and traditional taste. by the time he sits next to you, you feel so very small, forgetting that he’s now grown into the man that he is. 

broad shoulders, strong physique, the shine of wisdom and age brightening his eyes, and yet, he’s still somehow remained so fucking breathtaking...

...still makes your heart trip over itself with just a simple smile. 

it takes you a while to tell him what happened, but the words pour out of you like you’re an open faucet. you don’t even realize that he’s inched himself closer to you, concern and curiosity tugging at his expression as he hears you ramble on about how you turned your face away so your friend could just aim for your cheek, about your pathetic apology as you quickly excused yourself out the door, and about your frustrations on not knowing how to kiss. 

“it’ll happen for you when the time is right, sweetheart,” suguru consoles with a serious kindness. 

“but what if I'm ready now?” 

he laughs under his breath, your innocent question only brightening his wolfish grin. “then you’ve just got to wait for the right person...” 

you can’t help but lean into him, lifting your gaze so your faces were a few inches apart.

it takes all the courage in the world for you to ask, the fear of rejection a reflection in your anxious eyes. 

“can...can you show me, sugu?” 

geto’s expression falls, indicating that he’s clearly caught off guard, but what sends a tremor down your spine is how his eyes immediately shift to your lips. 

there’s a visible tension tugging his shoulders, and his jaw twitches when you confess that you’ve seen him kiss other girls before. he can’t believe that you’ve caught him during such intimate moments with his previous partners, but the blush that highlights the tips of his cheekbones happens when you admit that you’re just really curious to know what it would feel like. 

“I’m safe with you,” you point out, “If I’m being honest, just can’t imagine sharing this with anyone else...nobody else knows me like you do” 

the more you talk, the more his eyes deepen with a desire that’s never made itself known, a desire that forces your ribs to squeeze tightly around your lungs. 

everything around you melts like a surreal painting when he complies with your request; you can’t even think when you feel him cradle your cheek in his palm while glides his nose down the bridge of yours. you swallow hard feeling his thumb softly stroke your neck, the fan of his warm breath on your skin making your lashes flutter close as he traces over your pretty, pouted lips. 

“kissing you will be different,” he murmurs, his captivating words entrancing you in a spell. “because I’ve never kissed anybody like the way I’m about to right now...” 

just as you part your lips to question the meaning behind his declaration, he presses his mouth onto yours and tenderly ignites your soul. 

[alneedssleep]

Headcannons about Apollo pt.1 

PSA: This is mythology Apollo stuff but most of this applies to Percy Jackson Apollo as well. 

Apollo loves no sibling more than Artemis, but he is closer to Athena. They bonded over being the favourite siblings, gods of knowledge/wisdom and the fact Athena was somewhat in charge of teaching/raising him when he first came to Olympus. 

Apollo is the only other god besides Zeus to have the epithet ‘Moiragetes’ meaning ‘Leader of the Fates’. There are also only two moments of fate being averted in the entire mythos – once when Zeus swallows Metis and then again when Apollo tricks/convinces the Fates to extend Admetus’s lifespan. I imagine this means they are both capable of altering fate, it is just usually not worth the trouble. 

Adding on to the previous hc, I also imagine Apollo has pure white eyes. As in, no pupils or irises. This is a trait I imagine the Fates share as well. Zeus would as well if he had gift of prophecy, but he doesn’t. 

Apollo has the epithet ‘Lycegenes’ meaning ‘born of wolf’ or ‘born of Lycia’. Both work since his mother spent some time in a form of a wolf while pregnant in some versions and she is also a prominent goddess in Lycia. Lycia is in modern day Turkey, so I imagine Leto, Apollo and Artemis have some Turkish features. Specifically, they all have an aquiline nose (though you also see that in Greece), darker skin and (in the PJ universe aka the modern day) all three occasionally wear head scarfs. Not hijabs obviously since those are religious, but sheer fabric with a bunch of different designs relating to their sacred symbols wrapped around their head and hair. 

Apollo was less of an older brother and more of a parent to Hermes, Dionysus and even Hebe when they were young. It was only once they were much older that Apollo started treating than more like siblings but will occasionally fall back into old habits. 

Hera and Apollo have a better relationship than expected. They, along with Athena, mostly bonded over their shared woes of dealing with Zeus (who is not as bad as PJ Zeus but is still, you know, a king. And kings are rarely great.) 

Apollo is the most all-knowing of the non-primordial gods. He has the domains of truth, prophecy and knowledge and, once he gains the sun in roman times, can also see anything that happens during the day. This makes him stupidly well informed. Even his cousin Hecate, Aunt Asteria, Grandmother Phoebe and Grandfather Koios are not as well informed since they only have the domain of prophecy and, even then, only have a specific kind while Apollo, seemingly, has access to every kind of prophecy. 

Apollo (and Artemis) are Gods of Youth and, in Apollo’s case, he even has an epithet explicitly denoting him as an eternal child: ‘Acersecomes’ meaning one with unshorn hair. Boys in ancient Greece grew out their hair and generally cut and dedicated their hair to Apollo after reaching adulthood. As a result, Apollo not only has long curly golden hair, but is also unable to age any older than 15 since 16 was the age of adulthood back then. I imagine this would be the same for Artemis as well. (If we are including the PJ universe here, then they would be able to age up to 17). 

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Thank you so much for taking me to your lovely home, Mr. Schultz! It's so nice to see you! I had a feeling if I worked my hometown I might run into a few familiar faces...."

"The pleasure's all mine, Josie. Look at you! My, my, last I saw you, you were a skinny, nerdy girl who could barely land a date. I almost didn't recognize you strutting up and down my block, flagging men down for money to take a spin with that big, sexy pregnant body of yours."

"Awww, thank you! I'm glad you like pregnant girls! But I actually don't get paid."

"Oh, just providing some community service? My niece is about your age and she volunteers herself at the homeless shelter downtown."

"Mmmm, good for her! I'm actually working on my thesis. I guess you could say...."

"Oh? This I've got to hear."

"Well, I'm a Sexual Health Major and I'm trying to get my Master's. As soon as I started college they told me about my assignment. It's so time consuming it's almost all I do for college...."

"Does your college have you out working the streets, getting that belly pumped full of kids for the sake of experience, or is it more of a written project you need the experience for?"

"Both, kind of. I'm to fuck twelve new men a day. Every day, until I graduate. No exceptions. That's eighty-four men a week. Three hundred thirty-six men a month, at least. Over four thousand a year."

"That's quite a daunting amount of work. You have to catalogue them?"

"Yep! Get their names, or a pseudonym, their cock length, time they lasted, the positions they tried on me, what got them off the most, and summarize my findings about guys' sexual performance. I'm supposed to write an essay about it and share it with the university in a couple years."

"My oh my, seems you've been at this a while then. Already over ten thousand guys who fucked that curvy body of yours?"

"Yep! Closer to twenty thousand, at this point."

"And what wisdom can you share? You must be so experienced, darling...."

"Well, most guys are total perverts, but they won't just come out and say it. They're all porn addicts. The second one gets limp fucking my juicy, swollen pussy I have to roll my eyes, reminding them to fuck my ass instead to emulate the grip they use on their own cock. Then when they're about to cum take that dirty cock out of my ass and cram it in my pussy, cum inside it, and piss in it too, cause that's really all a girl's pussy is good for. Not getting men off, just a filthy toilet to do your business in and get out. Wipe your cock off my my labia. I'll lick the guys clean if there's any mess left....."

"Wow, and that works for almost every guy?"

"Well, most. Some like to fuck me doggystyle, others like me to ride them. But lots of guys have their own quirks. If it's an older guy I'll ask if they have a daughter my age, and if so to use her name as picture that I'm her as we fuck and that works every time. If the guy's my age I ask if they have a sister. Same deal. Oh, and other guys if they still have trouble getting all the way to an orgasm I tend to assume they must be into really extreme porn. So I just tell them to start beating me up. Punch my belly, my boobs, strangle me, give me a black eye. And boom, the second they start going to town beating on me they cum like crazy."

"Sounds like you must get that sexy body of yours beaten to a pulp fairly regularly, if my experience with the newer generations of men are anything to go by."

"Ohhh, you bet! But I'm a good girl, I get used to it. I just sit there writing about what gets them off in my little notebooks and I encourage them to keep escalating their aggression until it's enough for them to cum."

"Such a perfect student. I hope they're giving you extra credit for all the brutality..... and STDs, I'd wager."

"Nope, it's just considered part of the project! I have pretty much every std you can imagine, my pussy is so swollen and red from all of them it's starting to look like a balloon. And I'm sure having it treated like a toilet isn't helping either, but oh well. In my opinion, this is what a girl's sex is supposed to look like."

"I take it I won't be at risk of contracting anything with you?"

"Not at all, silly! My college gives me an unlimited prescription for the male-only std-prevention pills."

"Shame they don't make one for girls like you."

"Why? My pussy should be super swollen, red, irritated, and deformed from all the wonderful STDs men give me! Like I said, that's what a girl's pussy is there for..... Plus, the government would never fund an anti-std pill for girls!"

"Ah, good point, dear.... So, enough chatter, I guess I'll be the next entry into your notebook. Hope you enjoy yourself."

"I always do. And even if you don't really want to you can try out hitting me while we fuck, you'd be surprised how fun it is!"

"I think I just might, sweetheart.... Seeing you like this makes me feel like I'd be letting you down if I didn't."

Josie bit her lip. "That's good to hear. Do whatever you want to me, it's what my body's for.❤️"

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Oppan

I have been tracking Ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka aka Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear aka Oppan in my weekly Japanese QL Corner posts, but this show is so good that I need to give it a full tribute now that the entire thing is available with English subs courtesy of @isaksbestpillow. You can find everything you need to watch here.

This is easily one of my favorite dramas of the year, and it had such a great cast of awesome characters and a story chock full of fantastic themes. This is a show that encourages us not to get desensitized to the world around us, to always challenge ourselves to learn and grow and update how we think about others and the culture we live in, and to prioritize personal happiness over conformity. I love it so much and I want to talk about why, because I hope more of you will, too! @twig-tea wrote a great spoiler free pitch for the show here; this one is not spoiler free in the hopes that those of you who like a bit more info will be further enticed to give it a try. On to the list!

This is a story about a middle-aged cishet man who realizes he has damaged his relationships and sets out to change to do right by his family

There are so few stories of genuinely great fathers in media, and I found something so healing in watching a dad try so hard to do his best. Just the very fact that Makoto cares that he has hurt his family and is willing to put in work to change sets him apart, both in media and in real life.

An unconventional friendship is the heart of the story—and it changes both the characters' lives

Our core relationship begins when Daichi prevents Makoto from falling down a set of neighborhood steps, and the two strike up a surprising friendship when Daichi proves open to listening to Makoto as he struggles to figure out where he went wrong with his family. Daichi is kind and warm-hearted but also firm in his convictions, and his wisdom is exactly what Makoto needs to start updating himself.

Daichi is a gay character who’s allowed to be a whole human—he is not here just to be a magical queer mentor for Makoto

And before you worry that Daichi is a Manic Pixie Dream Gay here only to support Makoto, let me assure you that he also has a story, and it’s more complex than you might initially expect. Daichi has a lot of confidence when it comes to helping other people solve their own problems, but we eventually learn that he's not so assured about his own struggles. Daichi has other relationships that matter aside from his bond with Makoto and his family and he gets his own character arc in which Makoto is able to support him in return. They have a mutual bond that changes both of them for the better.

It takes a gentle and thoughtful approach to figuring yourself out, and encourages us to be kind to others experiencing things we don't understand 

There are so many characters in this show whose stories highlight this theme, but it is perhaps most evident in the story of Kakeru, Makoto's son, grappling with his identity and gender presentation. This show will surprise you again and again with how open and thoughtful it is about questions of identity and preference, and it constantly reinforces that we shouldn't assume we know everything about others and how they will react to our truths--if we give people a chance to know us, they might be more kind and supportive than we think.

This story sincerely believes that doing what makes you happy is always the right choice

And they make it clear over and over again: your personal happiness matters more than any societal constructs or cultural norms. Letting go of what people outside of their family think is what heals the Okitas and helps them find their love and trust for one another again.

Relatedly, it gets fandom in a way few dramas do

Makoto's wife, Mika, is a kpop stan, and his daughter, Moe, is a yaoi mangaka. One of the best parts of the show is Makoto coming to understand and appreciate their fandom and learn to respect the joy it gives them, and in turn, the whole family.

Everyone has the chance to redeem themselves

Regardless of what they have done in the past, every character in this story has a chance to redeem themselves and earn trust and respect back--and earn is the operative word there. This show doesn't demand perfection, but it absolutely demands that you care when you harm others and earnestly try to do better, and we see many characters take that journey. This is further underlined by a character in the story who does not put in that effort to try, and consequently is not forgiven or brought into the family fold. So satisfying.

Every character and every relationship matters

I was constantly amazed by how attentive this show is to every single relationship, not just the big family ones, or even just Makoto and Daichi. Makoto also goes out of his way to get to know Daichi's boyfriend Madoka, his coworkers, and Moe and Kakeru's friends, and we see connections form and deepen between so many side characters in this story. It really cares about all its characters as whole people.

And while it's doing all of this important thematic work and making us cry on the regular, it also manages to be very fucking funny! 

This show is hilarious, which may surprise you given all the heavy thematic work it's doing. But the writing has a deft touch and it manages to explore all these themes with a lot of humor. Watching Makoto learn new things and blunder his way through connecting with others is truly a delight.

And it caps off all of this with a great story about having the courage to love in the face of bigotry and a beautiful gay wedding

Perhaps the biggest spoiler here: we get a gay wedding! I was so surprised and thrilled to see Daichi and Madoka decide to marry--and not without some stumbles--and bring the Okita family so fully into their joy. What a beautiful way to end a gorgeous show. I will miss all of these people dearly.

[darlingshane]

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 2

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Friends to lovers, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Smut, HJ, Fingering, P in V, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Addiction, Alcohol, Hangover, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy, Undisclosed age gap.

Word Count: 7.5k // Chapters 5-7 // AO3 Link.

— Part 1 (Chapters 1-4)

Chapter 5: Eat Humble Pie

One more mistake turns into a lesson learned for Maya.

She climbs into her car before breaking in front of him and drives back home after the party to dwell in her misery.

It was silly of her to make herself available for someone who doesn't take her seriously half of the time. She should have seen it earlier that he's just an asshole, but being blindsided by guys like him is one of her many flaws.

Against her better judgment, she put herself out there for the first time in a long time. He knew that was a huge step for her, and he just had the nerve to dismiss her feelings.

She's not the one to play games with. If Michael can admit that there's something between them, then she's not going to invest more time on this or push for something he doesn't want. Maybe she’s being a little arrogant, it wouldn't be the first time someone told her that, but this wasn’t a one-sided thing. He’s been definitely reeling her in just as much. She felt that every morning she went into the beef before work, every time they went out for drinks, every time he came over, every call, every text… He initiated a lot of those. Who does he think he is to make her feel like she's crazy? Like she made that up in her head? It could be possible, she tries to internalize. Perhaps she latched onto Michael so desperately because he was the only person that made her feel welcomed. It was strange for a long time being back in Chicago and being with him felt like being home.

Her mind jumps back and forth, trying to find a logical explanation. She doesn't find any, but she's sure he has his reasons.

Trying to forget all that and more, it’s not easy.

A week after his birthday, there’s still a part of her that keeps holding onto all those moments and memories they’ve made together. From painting her room, to the day she took care of him when he got his wisdom teeth removed. To all the many nicknames he gave her. And that time, he dog-sat for Coco when Maya went out of town for a couple of days. He’d just sent pics and videos of them playing, so she wouldn’t worry. It’s still fresh in her memory the day he invited her to his Sunday Braciole tradition. They weren’t as frequent as they used to be since Carmy left, but at least two Sundays a month they got together to cook and eat, and just have a good time with friends and family. For the past two months, she never missed one of those Sundays, but it was a hard pass this week. She got a text from Natalie asking if she was okay, that they missed her and Coco, but she was far from okay. Maya just replied with some bullshit about coming down with something.

Many times she’s found herself wanting to pick up the phone and call him as she used to. She willingly had to fight that need every day until it disappeared.

One evening, when she comes home after work, pulling up on the driveway, she spots Michael sitting on her front stoop, having a smoke under the light of the porch. It’s dark and cold and the last thing she wants to do right now is face him, but there’s no way around it.

“Hey,” She mutters, walking up to the door as he puts out his cigarette and stands up.

“Hey, can we talk?” His breath manifests in the air, as he exhales that last puff he took.

“Depends on what you have to say,” Maya crosses her arms against her chest.

“Just wanted to say I’m sorry for being an asshole the other night. I never got to say thank you for the party. That was really nice of you.”

“That's fine, Michael. I'm over it. I got the message,” she says dryly.

“This isn't as easy as you think it is.”

“I think it is. Either you want me or you don't. But you can't string someone along for months, and then make them feel like shit for wanting something more. It's fucked up.”

“Yeah, I agree it's fucked up. I'm… fucked up.”

“I'd say.”

“Hey, you're no picnic either, sweetheart.”

“You're right, I'm not. But at least I'm honest about it. I admit that I can be a little intense and inconsiderate, but I don't try to hide it. You on the other hand hide behind layers and layers of fake smiles and charms and bullshit stories, cause if people were to look closer, they'd see the real Michael. The one that I see.”

“You're also unbelievably obnoxious, did you know that? You don't know shit about me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Have you even considered my part in all this, huh? You're Carmy's best friend. I knew you as a kid. How am I supposed to look him in the eye when he comes back in a few weeks and say – hey, by the way, I've been seeing Maya… Your Maya. What do you think he’s going to say? He's gonna hate the both of us.”

It's good to know he's considered all those things that didn't cross her mind. Yes, it'd hurt her to know that Carmy could potentially be affected by this. She wouldn't want that either, but no matter what, someone is getting hurt here.

“Well, I haven't thought about it that way, but I was never his to begin with. I’m my own person. I get to decide who I want. Not you, not him, not anyone. And even if something happened between you and me, it’s not like I’d rub it on his face.”

“Maya… You don't understand. You were everything to him.”

“Were. You’ve just said it. It's been a long time since high school, do you really believe that he's still hung up on me?”

“What if he is? What if you two were meant to be together?”

“Saying that out loud over and over won't make it come true. This isn't a fairy tale. And you should know that I haven't really talked to him, not one real conversation, since last year. Last time I heard from him was a text telling me he got the job at Noma. I said hey, congratulations, I'm proud of you… And he never spoke to me again. Told him I was moving back here, and crickets. And you know what? I still love him cause he's Carmy, but I'm not in love with him. I wish it was that easy. It'd be great if people could fall in love with the person they were supposed to be with. But it doesn't work that way, Michael.”

“Look, I know it's hard to understand, but I'm not the right guy for you. I'll never be. I thought we could be friends, but I can tell that's not enough for you, is it?”

“No, it isn't. If you feel that way, you should just go. It’s cold. I’m tired. And I should…” Defeated, she vaguely gestures at the front door before climbing the porch's steps.

“It hurts for me too, you know?” He mumbles as she unlocks the door.

“How’s that my problem?” She scoffs, incredulous at the gall he has of driving up there just to cause her more grief, and guilt-trip her. At least that is how it seems right now to her. “You’re the one that is too scared to feel anything real. I told you how I feel. I kissed you, for Christ’s sake! Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Maybe if you had stayed away from me, this would have never happened.”

“Are fucking serious right now?” she glances over her shoulder, letting her blood instantly come to a boiling point. “You gonna put this on me? This is just as much of your fault as it is mine. You knew that I was having a hard time adjusting, that I missed my friends, that I couldn't even turn to my family, and you took advantage of that. Go fuck yourself, Michael! Take your damn pills and go get high like you do every night to forget you're a fucking loser!”

Maya doesn't give him a chance to respond. She slams the door shut, turns on the light, and closes her eyes for a second as Coco comes out of her room to welcome her. The dog whines, happily wagging her tail, circling around Maya's boots.

Leaning down to pet her dog, she places her bag down on the floor. Coco lowers her ears as Maya holds her head and scratches her head.

“I'm so sorry I yelled, baby. C’mere,” she hugs her neck tight, taking some extra comfort from her pup cuddles and kisses for a moment until they both hear a shy knock on the door.

Hoping he’d just leave, she closes her eyes again and ignores it.

It’s worthless.

He knocks twice again.

And again.

“Maya? Open the door… Please. I’m… I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m a fucking loser. Let me try again… Please, I didn’t mean…”

“What do you say, should we open?” She asks Coco as she tilts her head to the door.

“Maybird. Mayhem. Can you hear me? Maya Papaya?”

It’s crazy to even consider going for round two, but she’s like a moth to a flame, unable to escape the appeal of that alluring heat.

Drawing a fortifying breath, she stands up and hesitantly unlocks the door.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I'm a lost cause. Can I come in?”

“Are you going to behave?”

“I promise.”

She lets him set foot inside to be warmly welcomed by Coco hoisting her front paws up to his chest, wagging her tail, sticking her head out to lick his face.

“Hey, Coco girl. Have you missed me?” He pets her fondly.

“Coco, get down. He doesn't deserve kisses right now,” Maya sighs, gesturing at the dog, and she begrudgingly obeys, getting down and finding her bed in the corner of the living room. “Okay, say what you gotta say? You have one minute.”

“That's not a lot.”

“You're wasting time.”

“Straight up. Alright… I came here to apologize, and I blew it cause you're right I'm a loser. I uh… I thought that by pushing you away was doing you a favor, but I can see now that's not how it works.”

“No, it doesn't,” Maya says firmly.

“Truth is that I don't know what I’m doing… I thought that if I came here and gave you some closure, we could just move on. But I'm looking at you right now, and I don't think I'll be able to do that. It'll be pretty hard to forget about you after everything…”

“Stop trying to sabotage yourself. Live a little. Isn't that what you told me that day when you helped me unpack? Why don't you take that advice for yourself?”

“Because I'm a piece of shit and I don't deserve you.”

“That's not true.”

“It is. You said outside… For the longest time I've been pretending to be something I'm not, that I'm not sure who I am anymore. I thought you fell for that version of me that isn't real. But you didn't, you saw through all my bullshit, and you fell for me anyway… Why?”

“Why? Because I'm probably out of my mind.” She can't help but scoff a little. “I keep falling for all the wrong guys. But believe it or not, you're not the worst I’ve dealt with, Michael. You're not perfect. Nobody is. You say you’re pretending you’re something you’re not… that must be exhausting. I can see it's catching up with you already…”

“It is exhausting.”

“So stop doing that.”

“It's not that simple. I'm not you.”

“The best things in life are hardly simple, hon. It'll hurt like a motherfucker to undo all the damage, but once you make it to the other side, it'll be worth it. I've been there. I’m not perfect, either.”

“I think you're pretty perfect to be honest.”

“I've done plenty of shit that says otherwise.”

“Yeah, but you admit it. You're not afraid of putting it out there, even if people don't like it. That takes guts.”

“Well, I've realized that you can't please everyone all the time.”

“You should have been a shrink, you know that?”

“No, I'm not very patient with people. That's why I work with animals, remember?”

“You've been with me. It's been over a minute, and you haven't thrown me out yet.”

“Cause I'm a sucker. And beyond all reason, I believe everything you've just said.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“You're asking me?”

“Yeah, you're the one with all the insight.”

“Whatever happens now it's up to you, Michael. I’ve already forgiven you. You say you don’t wanna be with me but refuse to leave, and come in here for an encore. What did you expect from me?”

“I guess I keep hoping you’d change your mind about me. It’d be easier to leave if you hated me.”

“Do you want me to lie to you and say that I despise you?”

“No, unless you do.”

“Well, prepare to stay here all night, cause as much as I want to, I'd never hate you. So, it's just a matter of, do you wanna stay or go?”

He takes a deep breath and surrenders, “I… I think I wanna stay. If that’s okay.”

“That’s okay,” she exhales softly, echoing his words.

Neither of them are sure how to go on from there.

They’ve said so much, and yet there is still so much left unsaid. But the fact that he’s stopped letting that inner turmoil of shame and guilt keep him from her is a big step in the right direction. It grounds him, and gives him some peace of mind knowing that she’s looked him in the eye, and said — yes, I know everything about you, and I still want you.

Maya accepts who he is with an open heart, mind, and arms. She doesn’t seem fazed by it because she’s the most powerful force he’s ever encountered. He’s finally willing to give into what was meant to happen all along. He's tired of fighting himself. And if someone like her can find something redeeming about him, maybe he can try to be better for her.

“Can I…” hesitant, he takes a step closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I wanna,” he barely mumbles below the sound of a breath. “I shouldn't have pulled away the other night. I understand if you-”

“Shh, just kiss me,” Maya's cuts him out. “Don't overthink it, Berzatto.”

“Okay.”

Drawing a shy smile, his head leans forward, as one of his hands cup her jaw.

“God, forgive me. You're so beautiful, Maybird,” he utters an inch away from her lips before sealing them shut.

This time, he closes his eyes, quiets the voices in his head, the ones that tell him he doesn't deserve her. In between the cracks of the walls he's put up, something else emerges. The relentless desire that comes with the same force of a waterfall. He lets it take the wheel as he savors the thrill that are her plump lips. Tenderly she kisses him back. Links her hands to his neck, begging him to keep kissing her, to consume her, to take her last breath. And he does. He delves deeper. Sends his tongue to soothe that aching that made a home in his chest. He's never felt his heart beat louder than now. It's like he's been dead for years, and she's bringing him alive kiss after kiss after kiss after kiss…

Chapter 6: Life is a bowl of cherries

Like most things in his life, Michael has a tendency to sabotage his relationships right before things start to get serious. He never follows through, a lot of people would agree. Perhaps, it isn't as much of a tendency but a result from his dependency to something else entirely.

The commitment to his work, the pressure to provide for his family has driven him to a very dangerous path. It’s never been more clear as it is now. His eyes are wide open. Forcefully. And for the first time ever, he’s willing to admit he has a problem that he can’t solve on his own.

It’s way past time to face the music, and he’s scared shitless to put that into words. Once the truth comes out, everyone will know how much of a failure he is.

He and Maya still haven't tackled that issue. She's not oblivious to it. She's the first one who saw that something wasn't right. She called him out on it and felt like a dagger laced in shame poked into his heart. Like most addicts, he never thought anyone would notice, he believed he was going so careful. But Maya Silva is not just anyone. She's insightful as she is sharp. She could spot his bullshit from miles away if she wanted to.

Having someone putting that into words was probably one of the hardest truths he had to hear about himself. He didn't realize it was getting out of hand until she verbalized that. They didn't touch it beyond that. While she's not a stranger to challenges, this is out of her depth. As much as it is for him.

While he got rid of a handful of demons, there are still hundreds that haunt him. They make all his fears come true the day after their kiss…

In an attempt to make a better man out of himself for her by breaking the habit, he tries to go just one day without the comfort of reaching to his hidden stash. He manages to go a few hours in the morning without it, but eventually, it becomes harder to go through the day to stay sober. He takes a lower dose, which is an achievement on its own, but it only shows how much he was relying on that.

Michael desperately wants to follow through for once, and makes the executive decision of not using while he’s with her. He’s aware that trading one addiction for another is not the best way to deal with it, but when they're together, it's easy to forget and ignore all those demons making noise in his head. It's when he's alone that he feels that devious hand trying to pull him into the dark well of desperation that his name carved on the walls.

At this moment, there's another different hand, a cold one, holding his own as they walk between rows of Christmas trees while Maya surveys each of them to choose one to bring home.

It’s the first week of December. They’ve easily slipped back to hanging out as much as they used to. And officially, they’ve been out a handful of times since that night he showed up at her door. They've been talking a lot and taking it slow, which feels nice for a change. Sometimes he wishes he could rush through all this part to see what the future holds for them. Thinking about the future in general has always been scary. However, thinking about a future with her gives him just a sliver of hope that things will get better.

Lacing his fingers with hers, he captures the glimpse of a smile as she keeps hauling his ass deeper into the tree farm. They had driven here, an hour out of the city, so she could cut her own tree, cause she read it was better for the environment. There’s no more fight left in him to chase away this overwhelming warmth, and new kind of love that envelops him. If she’d ask him to fly up to Mars, he’d do it.

His other hand is occupied by the end of Coco's leash that walks by his other side. The dog stops as Maya comes to halt to point at the chosen tree.

“This one.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. This one will fit perfectly in the living room without taking too much space.”

“Alright. Let’s haul it out.”

With the help of a saw they carefully cut the trunk at the base and then, aided by one of the farmers, then sleeve it in a net and load it into the truck.

It's a nice drive with his two favorite girls. Coco sits between Maya's feet and props her head on her thigh while she's pampered with lots of caresses and ear scratches. The dog quickly falls asleep like a baby and doesn't open her eyes until the truck has pulled up on the driveway.

They bring Coco inside, unload the tree, and put it on the stand. As Michael busies himself whipping out something for dinner, Maya brings the decorations she bought earlier and starts hanging them on the tree.

It's a pretty damn picture of the two of them, sitting on the couch, sharing food in front of the fire. He wishes he could frame that moment when she glances at him with that vivid glint in her eye that makes his heart melt.

Maya climbs onto his lap after putting the dishes away. Sitting sideways, her head pillows his shoulder, while his arm curls around her waist. One of her hands holds his bearded jaw, having her fingers softly petting his hairs.

“Thanks for helping me today,” she utters, enjoying his embrace and the cozy decorated room.

“Anytime, Maybird,” his palm slides over her legging-covered thigh.

Maya lifts her head and presses her curved lips sweetly on his cheek.

“We should go on a drive sometime again. It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was. Maybe for New Year's.”

“It's a date,” Michael squeezes her knee as her head leans to the side to capture his eyes.

Maya throws one of those disarming smiles that drives completely out of his mind. He holds the back of her head and seizes the temptation of her lips he’s come to know so well in a matter of days. He revels in the way their mouths fit together like two puzzle pieces.

They lose track of time while their tongues swirl slowly to the same cadence, savoring every second of it as if it was the last. Their arms are loosely locked around the other when Maya swifts her position to straddle his thighs instead. Her body dangerously rezones, sitting over his crotch. His adventurous hands travel to her ass, while the lock of their lips remains strong. He can’t help but pull her hips flush against his as the kiss heats up.

They've never gone further than second base until this point. Though they agreed not to rush into anything, tonight might be the day. He wants to. And so does she. But there's still that part of him that's holding him back from crossing that line with her. Maya's special. He's known her for so long, he wouldn't forgive himself from ever hurting her.

“I thought we were taking it slow.” At the most inconvenient moment, he breaks the kiss and takes his hands away from her when his body demands more of her.

“We’re making out… slowly.”

“Not anymore.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” A sly grin flashes across her face as one of her eyebrows arch.

“Don't look at me like that, Maybird.” He throws his head back on the edge of the couch.

“Like what? I’m not doing anything,” she laughs and leans her face closer to his. “Is it that bad to want you? Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I want you, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that doing this with you feels pretty fucking weird.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew you as a kid. You were practically a baby when we met.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, Bear. First, stop thinking about me as a kid. That's creepy. Second, you aren't much older than me, Mister. And third, do I look like a fucking baby to you now? Or… Do I look like a babe?”

“A babe. Definitely a babe,” he emphasizes, lifting his head and running his tongue across his lips, letting his eyes roam the beautiful curves of her body hugged in a tight t-shirt and a pair of leggings.

“So treat me like a babe. Fuck going slow. Kiss me like you mean it, goddammit! Stake your claim. Grab me. Touch me like the world is about to end and the last thing you wanna do is spend your last dying moments with me.” She demands so passionately, it sends a chill through his body.

He swallows, as his eyes become glossy in lust. Michael grabs her chin to keep her face still. Chasing that desire, he ravages her mouth like he’s never done before. Drinking her in, letting his tongue run wild as his hands go down to grip at the curve of her hips. He unabashedly handles her body to press harder on him, over his growing bulge, that makes her moan into his mouth every time it hits the right spot.

Maya is beyond pleased to have him finally give in to that shared crave that only grows bigger by the second. He grows bigger even quicker once he’s jumped over that line.

Without breaking from his eager kiss, Maya stops moving on his lap and sends her hands to undo the fly of his jeans. Beneath the denim fabric, she can tell how his erection strains, begging to be released by the kindness of her hand. He groans a couple of curses into her mouth when she peels back his underwear.

Maya doesn’t have to look down to know how big he is. Her palm curves around his swollen cock. It fills up both her fists as she stacks one on top of the other. There’s some wetness already that she spreads down to the underside that helps her jerk him off nicely.

Michael loses momentarily his ability to breath and parts from her lips to draw some air. He captures her eyes that hold a darker shade as both of her fists tighten around him. After a moment, he glances at her diligent, handy work that might have him come earlier than he’d want to. Michael hasn’t been touched like this in a long time. At least not with someone he had a connection as deep as this.

“Does it feel good?” Asks Maya with a grin splitting her face, as she shifts on his thighs to straddle just one and rub herself against the toned muscles of his leg.

“So fucking good,” he says under his breath as his head falls back, clutching his fingers to her moving waist. “I… fuck… fuck me… Are you riding my leg?”

“Uh-huh. Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell no. That’s…” his breathing keeps faltering as she picks up the pace. “You getting all wet for me?”

“You have no idea, Bear,” she purrs over his lips.

All his blood flows down to fire consuming his center, letting him dangle from one lousy thread.

“Don't have to hold it. It's okay if you wanna come.”

“It's just… I don't want you to think…”

“Shh. There's nothing to prove. Just close your eyes, and relax. Let me give this to you.”

Following her guidance, his mind clears completely as he closes his eyes and stops clenching every muscle of his body to let her bring him to ecstasy. His hips buck up a few times. And in just a few more pumps, his cock twitches in her hold before covering her hands in the warm spill of his orgasm.

Maya’s hips come to a halt. She tenderly kisses his exposed Adam's apple without letting go of his hardness that still throbs for a moment as the orgasm ebbs. Then she wipes her hands on her leggings while his mouth finds hers. He presses a couple of soft kisses at the corner of her mouth as his breathing recovers.

Michael cradles the back of her head and pulls it down to his shoulder. He plays with her hair, while she listens to his heartbeat as it evens.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says under a breath.

“You don’t gotta.”

“I wanna. Just need a sec.”

“Okay.” She smiles to herself, hugging his chest as he descends from his high.

Once his strength returns, he’s seizing her lips again at a gentle pace. His tongue swims in that endless well of affection she offers freely.

When he's ready, he picks Maya up and carries her to the bedroom to finish what she's started. Clothes are quickly discarded in the dim lit room they both painted together. When he frees her from her leggings and underwear, she's still wet.

He's dumbstruck by the beauty of all her, all bare just for him, laying as the most precious offering.

Smiling bashfully, he props one elbow on the bed, and lies by her side. His fingers gently slide across the surface of her inner thigh. Her skin forms goosebumps beneath his palm as they ascend closer to her groin.

Aiming for that sweet spot between her legs, he locks eyes with her and watches her expression as they land on her folds. Drawing a breath, her chest swells as he tenderly craws circles around her clit. The arousal wrapping around his fingers and the sighted moans he coaxes out of her mouth makes his cock harden again.

“A little harder,” she demands between pants, placing her hand on top of his to show him exactly how hard he can go.

“Like that?”

Maya nods and then holds his bearded jaw with both hands, pulling his face closer to capture his mouth, while his fingers move quicker. She jolts at the sensation of two of them suddenly slipping into her opening. He keeps his thumb steady massaging her clit at the same time. The delicious mixture of movement makes her core thread in a tight knot of pleasure that begs to be untied.

“Michael, baby… I'm almost…” His name has never sounded as good as the way she cries to it the closer she gets to the edge.

“I know, sweetheart. Come for me, beautiful.”

His fingers slip in and out gradually faster until her body is left shuddering by the final impact of that sweet orgasm. The soft fabric of her skin buzzes beneath his palm as she rides that wave of pleasure that takes her to a higher plane. All her muscles seize up for a split second, and then her body becomes jelly.

Inhaling a long breath, Maya turns to the side and curls against him, hugging his torso.

They stay in comfortable silence for a long moment, enjoying the calmness of being wrapped around the other.

Maya kisses his neck softly while his fingers run up and down her spine.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are like this?” He whispers.

“Yeah, I think you did,” her head tilts up to look at him.

One of his fingers draws her jaw, “I mean, you’ve always been stunning, but I’ve never seen you glow like this. It's like staring into the sun.”

“You're so fucking corny.” She smiles shyly before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “You look different, too. More relaxed.”

“The power of orgasm.”

“That must be it. When was the last time you had sex?” She blurts out, and regrets immediately after seeing his eyes slightly widen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Sweetheart, you can ask me anything now. I mean, we’re both fucking naked. It can’t get more intimate than this.”

“That’s true.”

“To answer your question… the last time I had sex was a few months ago. It wasn’t anything serious. There was this girl in my building, we used to hang out sometimes. And then… then there was you, and I couldn’t…” he doesn’t have to finish for her to grasp the concept that he couldn’t be with anyone else but her.

“Well… If you’re up for it, we could go all the way.”

“I suppose we could. We’ve come this far… Why stop now, right? It’s the end of the world, after all.”

“Right,” she laughs, pressing her lips to his shoulder.

Feeling more energized, she guides him to lay on his back, stretches his arms above his head while she mounts his hips. Leaning over, she nibbles his bottom lip as her ass rotates over his dick, getting it to become hard-rock again with such little friction.

“Are you clean, you know, STI wise?” she mumbles over his mouth.

“That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever asked me.”

“So, are you?”

“I am. You?”

“Clean and safe, if you’re wondering. That’s sexy to me.”

“Bet it is,” he chuckles, grabbing her ass and pressing her harder against his building erection.

She moves like an enchantress, cursing every inch of his body with her charms to use for her pleasure. He welcomes it. He’s never felt this excited in years, and that’s all she is. Her impulsivity, her passion, her vitality… It's the perfect cocktail. She adds all of her to it, doesn’t leave behind an ounce of anything. It’s all or nothing. That’s why he easily falls in love with her more every day. He wants to drink her all in, absorb every drop until she becomes part of him.

When she sinks onto his cock for the first time, he’s mesmerized by the way she looks at him with nothing but radiant warmth and lust. Her hands brace his chest, as she slowly takes him all the way down. It feels like his world spins on its axis as she experiments with her hips. First, waving gently, then when she’s used to being filled with him, she starts bouncing on top of him.

Nothing ever felt more right than having her like this. Her skin melts beneath his palms, and all he wants to do is explore every corner of her body. She throws her head back and moans at the air as her hips go back to rocking back and forth when they get tired.

Michael slings an arm around her waist, pulls her down against his chest, and gingerly swifts her body around to be on top. His thrusts suddenly come sharp and measured, hitting all the right spots within her tender walls, earning a few good cries mixed with his name. He holds one of her breasts in his palm, as he madly makes love to her. He feels her nails scratching roughly along his back as they both swim closer to the edge. There’s a force taking over his hips that pushes him to his limit as if it was a matter of life or death. It is. At this moment, nothing matters more than chasing that ultimate reward. He makes it his life mission. It consumes everything in the room, makes his whole body tremble in ecstasy as he ascends with her closer to that pinnacle.

He doesn’t stop until she’s left breathless with her body shaking underneath him. And this time, he can hold on for just one more second till she comes apart to let go and have all his seed spilled inside her.

This becomes their most memorable night to date. That room becomes their safe haven to explore and love each other in ways they haven’t done before. They disappear into a daze of sleeping, fucking, and repeat. It becomes primordial and sacred. He finds new ways to worship her body. She finds new ways to reach into his soul, carve herself deeper.

Chapter 7: That's the way the cookie crumbles

Michael is sitting on the couch, absentmindedly surfing between channels on Maya's TV when Coco sprints down the staircase, anxiously whining after hearing a string of loud popping sounds outside. The dog hops onto his lap with her tail between her legs. She lowers her head, tucking it beneath his arm, trying to make herself as small as possible. He glances out the window to see a few kids playing with novelty fireworks across the street.

“Are you scared of fireworks, Coco girl?” He pets her head softly. “Shh, It's okay, baby.”

Maya's out tonight with some of her coworkers she's made friends with, and he's decided to stay with Coco. She doesn't need babysitting, but he likes staying here. To be honest, he's been sleeping at Maya's most nights since they started having sex.

He soothes the dog with lots of cuddles and a couple of treats until the kids go back home and the big scaredy-cat pit bull finally stops trembling.

They both doze off for a while, and he's awakened by the ringtone of his phone when Maya calls him to ask to be picked up. She said she had a few drinks and didn't want to drive. So, he takes Coco with him and drives to a bar that is only a few blocks away from his own apartment.

Maya is more wasted than she sounded on the phone. Her friends are only halfway there. He makes sure that all her friends have someone to give them a ride before taking Maya home. Instead of driving back to Oak Park, he decides to take her to his apartment.

It concerns him to see her in this state. She barely mumbles a word, but he can clearly see that there's something going on that she can't bring herself to say. Michael shouldn't judge. God knows how many times he's drowned his sorrows in a bottle, but this doesn't seem like her at all. She was so excited earlier to go out and now there's nothing but sadness plastered all over her face.

Upon their arrival, she vomits everything she had drank earlier and some more. Michael holds her hair and soothes her back while she leans over the toilet until there's nothing more left in her. He dutifully takes care of Maya and brings her some juice to settle her stomach after getting her to lay down on his bed.

In the morning, he quietly slips out of bed, takes Coco out on a walk and feeds her before Maya even wakes up. By the time they return, Maya is already up. She's taken a shower, and now she's just sitting on the couch, wearing one of his shirts, sulking and eating some crackers she found in the kitchen cabinets.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of her head while Coco goes around the couch, wagging her tail, demanding some attention.

“Hey,” Maya greets back, glancing at him while holding the dog's face and kissing her nose. “Was she good last night?”

“Yeah, she's the best.” Michael sits down on the coffee table and pats the dog's spine as she lays down on the floor. “Did you know she's scared of fireworks?”

“Yeah, she's not a fan.”

Maya tucks a knee to her chest, catching Michael's vexed look that creases his brow as he props his elbows on his knees and tensely links his fingers together.

“What?” She asks dryly.

“I didn't say anything.”

“There's clearly something in your mind. I can tell.”

“Of course you do.”

“C'mon. Out with it, Berzatto. What is it?”

“Nothing. I just… I'm worried about you. You didn't seem like yourself last night.”

“Bear, you don’t have to worry about me. I just took a few more shots than I should have.” She shrugs it off with little importance. “But I'm fine… Well, you know, besides the killing headache and the hangover. I shouldn’t have drank that much.”

“Then, why did you?”

“I don't know… Why does anyone drink at all?” She annoyingly deflects.

“You seemed okay when you called. But when I picked you up… You could barely stand.”

“Look, I'm sorry that I called you. I'll think twice next time.”

“It's not that, sweetheart. I loved that you called… I'm just trying to understand what happened.”

“People drink. Big deal. I went out with some friends and had fun. That's it. Why are you grilling me about this? It's a little hypocritical coming from you, don't you think?”

“I'm not grilling you. I'm trying to figure out what happened. It’s obvious you're trying to hide something.”

“Yeah? Tell that to your stash drawer. You wanna lecture me about drinking? Start explaining why you need that many pills.”

“You went through my drawers?”

“I was looking for a shirt.”

“You know what? It doesn't matter, cause we're not talking about me right now.”

“How convenient. You're the one that has a real problem. I was upset last night and I got wasted. The end. I'm not going to drink tonight or tomorrow or the day after that, and probably it won't happen again, cause I know my limits. Do you know yours?” She jabs sharply, meaner than he's ever heard her.

Michael hangs his head down, shame washing all over him, stares at the floor for a long moment before answering.

“I wasn't trying to start a fight or lecture you. I just wanted to know if there was something bothering you– I guess it was just a matter of time before you found… You're right… I'm… I have a problem. But I don't use when I'm with you… I…”

Maya stands up and faces the window. Looking outside, she comes to realize how tactless that was on her part. Tears slip out of the corner of her eye. She never wanted to confront Michael like this. Let alone let her own insecurities get the best of her.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean…” She wipes her tears, and picks up the phone from the table.

She unlocks it and presses play and speaker for him to listen to a voice message she received yesterday. In it, the voice of her sister suggests that Maya should consider not attending Christmas dinner to avoid upsetting their mother like the year before. The message goes on about their-sister-in-law being pregnant, about to give birth around the holidays, and that she doesn’t need that added stress to that night, since they’re the ones hosting this year somewhere in bumfuck, Utah. She babbles for a while about how Maya has made her situation even worse for herself when she decided to move back to Chicago and hide it for months; along with a string of excuses that she's heard many times before.

They've always been subtle with their dismissal, saying it was fine if she had other plans. But that call is the first time they've openly asked her to refrain from attending a family function.

“I got it during dinner and I just… I don’t know, it’s like a switch flipped in my head, and I started throwing back shots to forget… I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just didn’t want to talk about it or think about it right now.” She explains, placing the phone, and then paces the length of the living room a couple of times.

“I get it,” Michael sighs and stands up, running his palm over his beard, putting a stop to her feet.

“I’m sorry that I went through your stuff and that I used that against you… I shouldn’t have. That was a low blow.”

“Guess we're both kinda messed up. I wasn't trying to hide it, either. You already know that I'm fucked up. It's just… We've been in this bubble and I wanted to enjoy that for a little longer before having to deal with all that, y'know?”

“I know,” her hand gently cups his bearded jaw. “When you're ready to talk about it… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Bubble or not. I… I've never been happier with anyone, Michael. It might be incredibly naive and idealistic of me to say this, but I feel like if we're honest with each other, there's nothing we can't face.”

“I feel that too, Maybird.”

Michael holds that same hand that's placed over his beard and prints a soft kiss on her palm, tickling her skin.

Then, he releases it and perches his hands on her waist as Maya links her arms around his neck.

“What are you going to do with the whole don't come home for Christmas thing?”

“I don't know. Part of me just wanna show up and ruin their night. But I know if I stay, they'll see that they're just as miserable with or without me. They just need someone to blame for their misfortunes, and I’m it.”

“Hey, maybe you could come have dinner with us like you used to.”

“Christmas at the Berzattos? I'm not sure which one is worse.”

“C'mon, they both suck. It's our first Holiday since we started this, it'd be nice to spend it together, don't you think?”

“I guess… I could think about it.”

[misctf]

Age Burner

“Getting older ain’t easy”. My dad would often say that when I was growing up, and like most things your parents tell you, I didn’t take it too seriously. But 30ish years later, I started to appreciate those words of wisdom. I was a college baseball player, the ladies were all over me, and I actually had hair on my head and not everywhere else. But now I can barely throw a baseball around with my son without an ache or pain. And with him about to go off to college and play baseball, it was like he was reliving my golden days.

So with father’s day and my birthday coming up, another great reminder of my age, I decided to get something for myself. I happened across an internet ad, big letters flashing “Age Burner!” Initially thought it’d be some type of scam supplement or something. But I ordered it and a few days later, a small package arrived with a single pill. I had half a mind to throw it out, but I already spent the money. I took the pill right before I went to bed as instructed, and had the best sleep of my life. When I woke up the next morning, I immediately noticed a difference. No aches or pains! My skin felt youthful and firm. No hair anywhere but my head! I ran to the mirror and was shocked- it was like time was turned back and I was my old 19-year old self. I could barely keep my hands off my firm pecs and my abs. I even flexed to show off my guns. It felt so good to be back.  

After some time, I rummaged through my closet and found my old baseball glove, a grin forming on my face. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to play ball with my son, show him what his old man was capable of back in his youth. I ran over to his room, excited to spend the day with him when my heart sunk. The man sitting in my son’s bed looked nothing like him: bald, hairy, a small flabby gut sitting between his legs. He looked up at me, a handful of his gut in his hand, too shocked to say anything.

After the initial shock subsided, and my son had two cups of coffee, we went and investigated. The pill does in fact burn away age, almost like a fat loss supplement. But that age had to go somewhere and in this case, it all went to my son. Reversal should be easy enough, he would just need to take the pill too. The problem was the pill was on back order for at least a few months- apparently it was very popular and the company was having a hard time keeping up their supply.

It’s been a few weeks without them taking any new orders, but my son seems to be adjusting well. He’s enjoyed keeping up with lawn care and found himself a construction job. And the other day, he offered to fire up the grill for me and my new buddies from the baseball team. I even came home and found him sipping a beer on the patio and laughing with a few of his new work buddies. I'm just happy he's happy. To tell you the truth, the longer things stay like this, the more I wonder if we’ll want to go back. I for damn sure know my answer.

[hypostatic-oath]

I've the post about how you think comps would work and we are allow to ask. Assuming I read that right.

And if so, I was wonder if you had any thoughts on how Dehya, Zhongli, Ei or Nahdia team would interact. Especially when I often joke she the bodyguards to three Archons, even if she doesn't know Zhongli was a former Archon it still funny to me.

DEHYA MY BELOVED-

I can see her being very proud of being Nahida's bodyguard. That one is obvious right off the bat, those two would absolutely adore each other.

Dehiya is thankful for the old consultant on her team. There is something odd about the man, always in those heavy robes that cover his full body - she has no doubt that out of all of them, he'd have the hardest time in the desert. And yet, the refined gentleman never seems to issue a complaint.

They've developed a kinship, she figures, of being the two mortals sided by two gods. Dehiya assumes he is the one meant to watch over the Electro Archon, just as she is the protector of Lesser Lord Kusanali. His shield is nearly impenetrable, and he is rarely ever startled... to her, it makes sense why you'd chosen him to be Eternity's guardian, even though the man hails from Liyue and not Inazuma.

They get along well, too - Ei seems to hold as much respect for him as he does for her, and the two converse with an ease that highlights the consultant's old age.

As for Nahida, she is slightly nervous. It is true that with Dehiya as her protector, and Rex Lapis raisong those shields of his, nothing will ever harm her. But she is still aprehensive to speak to the other two Archons - it has been a long time, and she has no idea how to introduce herself. She wonders if you'll give them time to play hopscotch together sometime amidst your exploration.

When you name Dehiya as the "Archons' Bodyguard", Ei is curious. She has fought for her entire life. Her skills are unparallelled. Why would she need a bodyguard? She's asked Morax about it, confused. Did you think she was weak? The old dragon had only laughed and said it was probably some sort of term of endearment - that Dehiya had been a bodyguard by trade before. Nevertheless, Ei was still curious about the woman's skill. Whenever you're logged off, the two can be found sparring. Both of them appreciate the opportunity to train.

During these times, the God of Wisdom sits next to the funeral consultant. Though reluctant at firstn their conversation ends up flowing. It is widely known that Zhongli likes to talk, and Buer, if given the chance and the encouragement to do so, will ramble about almost any topic. They have you to thank for placing them together in a team - they've become fast friends, and Nahida feels much more confident about approaching the rest of the Archons.

As for Ei and Nahida, it is almost the opposite. Both have been isolated for far too long, and neither knows how to start. The Raiden Shogun is an intimidating god, and her silence makes Nahida wonder if the ruler of Inazuma would even care to speak to her. As for Ei, she simply enjoys that Nahida has chosen to sit beside her, unaware of the God of Dendro's struggle as they both sit in silence. They eventually bond over their shared love for sweets, and as they grow closer, Nahida's worries diminish. It is not that Ei looks down on her - the Shogun is simply just as bad at interacting with new people as she is, or perhaps even worse. Kusanali is instilled with newfound resolve - she will share with the Electro Archon all that she's learnt from you and the Traveler when it comes to talking to others!

After months of traveling together, of being guided by you all across Teyvat, Dehiya has begun to suspect that there might be something odd about one of her travel companions.

You've named her the Archons' Bodyguard - Archons, plural - so what is Zhongli's role? The more she learns about the Shogun, the more she wonders why the Electro Archon would even need a bodyguard, let alone two.

Plus, the man's occupation makes no sense whatsoever. How does a funeral consultant learn to fight like that? He wears gloves, so she cannot thell whether his hands are calloused, but she's willing to wager they might be - he swings his polearm with an ease that tells her he is an experienced fighter. His dominion over his element is astonishing, and there is something... off, about how both her Archon and the Shogun talk to and about him.

Maybe one day one of them will slip off and call him Morax in front of her. Or maybe one day you'll tell her who he is. Either way, Zhongli drfinitely won't open up - both to preserve his secret identity, and because he knows that Dehiya finds comfort in the notion that she's not the only mortal among them.

[butchpeace]

Pelvic Floor Health for Detrans Women

A disclaimer before we start: I am not a doctor, a PT, or an expert of any kind, I just noticed there was a lack of information about pelvic floor health in the detrans (and trans) communities and I wanted to compile the information that I’ve gained. If there are any issues or you have any wisdom to share, please DM me! I plan to add to this post and edit it over time as I learn more.

95% of females who have been on testosterone report pelvic health issues, which can include urinary leakage or retention, bladder pain, difficulty emptying the bladder, general pelvic pain, pain with sex, vaginal dryness, vaginal atrophy, vaginismus, anal issues, and more. (Source)

If you’ve experienced any of these problems, you’re not alone, and there are things you can do!

Vaginal Atrophy

The vast majority of detransitioning women (and females who are transitioning) have vaginal atrophy, which is a thinning and weakening of the tissues that line the vaginal wall. Atrophy can lead to pain during sex, or with regular movement, bleeding due to small tears in the vaginal lining, narrowing of the vaginal canal, urinary issues, and more.

Because testosterone affects our ovaries, we can think of this issue as something similar to GSM (Genitourinary Syndrome of Menopause). Many of our symptoms mirror what happens to women as they age and their estrogen production decreases.

Treatments for Atrophy

1. Vaginal estrogen comes in the form of creams, suppositories, and insertable rings.

2. Vitamin E suppositories have been found to be as effective as vaginal estrogen in some studies. (Source)

3. Regular sexual activity can help by filling the vaginal wall tissues with blood, which can help to revitalize those tissues.

There are also many options for dryness, including vaginal moisturizers, aloe, coconut oil, and more. Sometimes the simplest natural options can be the most effective! Always talk to your gynecologist and do your own research on products you’re considering buying and make sure the ingredients are safe. Some people may experience yeast infections and other issues when using certain products.

Vaginal atrophy itself is to blame in many cases for the urinary symptoms that many of us report, and treating the atrophy may be all that’s needed in order to improve the urinary symptoms.

In other cases, we also need to look at overall pelvic floor health. I would argue that taking care of your pelvic floor is essential for any woman at any stage of life, since it can help with so many things!

Pelvic Floor Muscle Issues

Pelvic floor health issues can be divided into 2 types - Hypotonicity and Hypertonicity. Both types can lead to bladder issues, among other things.

Hypotonicity is the classic type many women experience after having children or during menopause. It’s also described as having a weak pelvic floor, and kegels are often the best treatment. The YouTube playlist at the end of this post includes videos for beginner and advanced kegel exercise methods and yoga.

Hypertonicity is the opposite type, where the pelvic muscles are chronically tight. For this, the treatment is to use muscle release methods to relax the pelvic floor. Remember - Relaxed muscles are the best at doing their job.

You wouldn’t think at first that Hypertonicity could lead to urinary symptoms like leakage, but when your muscles are overly tight, they just don’t work the way they should.

And when you have a urinary issue, or you’re dealing with the aftermath of childbirth, surgery, or any other medical trauma to the pelvic floor, there can be a tendency to reflexively tighten your muscles all the time, for fear of what might happen if you don’t. Some people with hypertonicity also experience their symptoms getting worse if they do a lot of kegel exercise. In these situations, kegels can become counterintuitive.

That said, using methods to address both types can be the best option for some people. As long as you listen to your body, keep track of how each method makes you feel, and talk with a doctor or pelvic floor PT if you have serious concerns or don’t understand how to do something, you should be able to figure out something that will help!

Vaginismus is also a very common condition that’s connected to hypertonicity and potential mental causes. You’ll know you have Vaginismus if you’ve always had trouble inserting things into your vagina, or if your partner has had trouble with it. Many women describe it as a sensation of the vagina closing up when faced with something trying to get in. You may find that at certain times or with certain objects, you have no problem, and at other times or with other objects, you do. Stretches and massages for hypertonicity can often help with Vaginismus.

Prolapse is a relatively common issue in women who have had kids and older women in menopause. This can also cause urinary symptoms. The incidence of pelvic floor prolapse in females on testosterone is not known, but due to atrophy weakening the walls of the vagina, it’s possible that testosterone will increase your risk. It’s also more common in people who have had a hysterectomy.

Tools

1. Vaginal dilators can be helpful for people who have trouble with Vaginismus or feel like their vagina is small. These are also helpful for people who have difficulty inserting fingers

2. A pelvic wand can help you to massage the internal muscles, if needed

3. Vibrators can be helpful for releasing tight muscles

4. Kegel trainers come in various types and can help you perform kegels more effectively if you know that your issue is hypotoniticy

5. Pessaries can help in cases where atrophy has led to pelvic floor prolapse. Make sure you get diagnosed before using one!

6. Your hands! Don’t underestimate the power of using your hands for external or internal massage

The biggest thing to take away from this post is this - Don’t be afraid of your vagina! Don’t be afraid to try things that may help you improve whatever issues you’re having.

Your vagina is a normal part of your body, and especially when you’re experiencing issues, that’s when it’s time to get to know it inside and out. If you’re anything like me, you’ve gone your whole life being too afraid to do certain things or explore your vagina in certain ways. We need to reduce the fear, stigma, and awkwardness of vaginal and pelvic floor issues, and the first step is to get to know your body. 💪

Exercises

I’ve put together a playlist of YouTube videos that have helped me in this process, which I will continue to add to. I hope they help you too!

And again, please DM me with any information you think is helpful or stories about what worked for you.

And if you’re a medical professional, I would love for you to review this post and suggest edits or additions.

Please share this with all your friends! My intention is for this to be a community resource we can use to spread awareness✌🏼

[duncans-idahoe]

Okay like I mentioned in this post I’ve been thinking HEAVILY about a Top Gun Dragon Riders! Au… so I’d like to elaborate a bit on some of the thoughts I have thus far

Top Gun Dragon Riders Au! Pt 1

World Building

As previously mentioned, the Dragons are sentient, magical beings in this world

Some humans hold them in very high regards, going as far as religious worship, like seeing them as gods, building them temples and such

Other humans detest the dragons and their presence, going as far as training to slay them

There are also Dragon Riders

Depending on one’s views these riders are either seen as extremely brave and admirable or as abominations to be destroyed along with their beasts

A rider does not choose their dragon, the bonds are always formed and determined by the dragons themselves

Usually there is a specific quality a dragon looks for in a human they wish to bond with: wisdom, loyalty, bravery, leadership, etc

But sometimes, a dragon just simply likes a human and there is no obvious explanation for a bond

Riders and Dragons can communicate telepathically with each other as long as they are within range of one another

The range distance is dependent on how strong the dragon is magically

When a bond is formed, the rider may channel magic from the dragon to wield in a way that feels natural to them

The magic can’t be forced, someone who is a natural with fire magic can not manipulate water or bend illusions, but as they train with their magic they may wield flames in ways they may not have originally thought possible

A bond with a dragon also increases a riders natural abilities, constitution, and life span

They will not live forever, but they will live considerably longer than they would have unbound to a dragon

These gifts do come with a price, if a dragon dies, so does their rider

With Dragons being a higher magical being, a life bond comes with a price

There’s another bond a dragon can make

Dragons also form mating bonds

Riders of dragons with mating bonds can telepathically communicate through the bonds

These bonds are for life, and as with the rider bonds, if one dies so does the other

This also mean that if one or both of the dragons have rider bonds, they would die as well

One dragon may have multiple riders in their lifetime, but a human will only ever have one dragon

Characters/Dragons/Magical Ablities

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

I know I’m starting off with Ice and not Mav how dare I, but honestly I kinda created this au FOR him??

Also to clarify I think callsigns could still be a thing in the au but some of them might be different to fit the aesthetic ✨

Ice is bonded to an enormous black dragon named Arobynn

He’s over 200 years old and has bonded with 3 other riders in his lifetime

Arobynn chose Ice for a few reasons: he respected his intelligence, moral integrity, and leadership abilities

As Dragons follow a strict social hierarchy based on both age and strength, Arobynn was looking for a rider who could match him in terms of being a strong leader and handle the magic that would be channeled through the bond from him

It was also important that his rider would use the gift of the bond for the good of both human and dragon kind

Once Ice started channeling magic from Arobynn, he was able to manipulate- you guessed it, Ice

But, not just Ice, he’s able to turn any water molecules in his vicinity into ice and in a battle could use icicles like daggers

In an extreme situation, with extensive concentration, he could even turn water within someone’s body to ice

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Mav bonds with a young, wild, red-scaled dragon named Larkin

Larkin is around 100, which is young for a dragon, and known to be fierce and headstrong

…sound like someone else we know?

She chose Mav because he’s not afraid to push boundaries, and he’s not going to stand down just because the odds are against him

The pair are a sight, performing dangerous maneuvers, constantly testing the patience of dragons and riders who outrank them

Larkin treats Mav like her baby, even acts a little broody and likes to curl herself around him and hisses at people who get too close to him

Maverick is Larkin’s first rider, so no one was sure how much magic could be channeled from her

Despite her smaller size she ends up being incredibly powerful magically and Mav has to learn how to control the immense power

Mav wields fire magic

However he can not create his own flames, and can only manipulate those that already exist, making them bigger or smaller or moving them however he wishes

A favorite technique Mav uses is to manipulate Larkin’s fire breathing, as dragon’s fire burns hotter than any other and in an aerial battle is more readily available for him to use

[luverz-exe]

Yandere Scp 049 × Female Reincarnated S/O

Thank you for over 100 followers! I'm honored to make a bunch of you happy with my writing, and I'm excited to show you all what else is to come! This is as you can guess, the first one shot in the whole blog! It didn't sit well with me to just leave it as a few headcanons, so here we go!

I took the security part of the request and went with it, I hope you don't mind! If you have any qualms about it, I can always redo it. And FYI for anyone else who wants to request a oneshot, it might take longer than what a headcanon might be, so if it doesn't come at the expected time then I'm sorry.

I am so sorry for the wait, a lot happened in my life, and I had to deal with it. But hey, I found out what I'll write for the surprise! And while I can't say what I have In mind now, I just hope you'll enjoy it in the (hopefully) near future.

"Are you sure? It's your first week on the job, don't you think escorting a Euclid class should be saved for.. later? You know, try and get some work experience beforehand?" Your cousin asked, trying to coax you out of what they thought was a death sentence. "I mean, think about it..."

You walked down the empty halls of the foundation, checking all of your gear making sure it was in proper condition as they tried to convince you to pick an easier job for today. It was supposed to be a 6 to 12, a quick shift, for foundation standards at least, but you took a bit extra to spend a little time with your cousin who worked the shift right after yours. Now you kind of wished you hadn't, with them nagging you about your decision, about your choice for the extra shift.

But you knew they meant well, they always did. And while you admired the fact they careed about you enough to tell you when they thought you were making a bad decision, you were a grown woman who could make decisions by herself. "I've gotten training for this, it's not like they send us in blind, I know what I'm doing. Besides, it's not like I'm doing it alone, there are other trained professionals working on it too. Don't worry about me."

You could hear them mumble something about you being too stubborn, unwilling to admit that you were right. "Besides, I've done my research, we will just be moving the Euclid SCP to a testing room, then back to its cell, easy." You sigh "Look, I'll be sure to contact you about it afterwards if it's such a concern of yours, if that makes you feel better."

The two of you walked down the hall, passing containment area after containment area, as they slowly start resting their hand on your armored shoulder. "But you haven't worked here as long as I have, I know what it's like. It's scary, your first few months. Hell, It's dangerous if you aren't 100% focused and on point, you-"

You interrupt "Then it seems I'll have to be 100% focused and on point then." You smirk, your cheeky grin causing a small smile to appear on their face. "Besides, I'm older than you, haven't you heard that wisdom comes with age?" You teased, now invoking a slight chuckle from them.

"Well, be sure not to die before the wedding, I'll surely be needing that old person wisdom of yours." They winked, patting you back before making a sharp turn to the left, making their way to prepare for their shift.

You look around the hall, making sure that no one is around before shouting "Lord knows you're gonna need it!" And as you continue walking down the hall, you can hear faint laughter from them, some footsteps fading even further away, and a door closing, ensuring that you are all alone with nothing but your thoughts. You slowly gain your composure back, making sure you can do your job without a grin. Had to make a good impression to your new co-workers after all.

You sigh wistfully, before getting out your key card and continuing to walk down the hall, swiping the key card to open the door in front of you. And as you slowly walk towards the future ahead of you, you could feel the slightest bit of pride in your new life. It was going good.

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

Your movements sync with your team, and you follow each step of theirs to the single second. Left foot, your eyes stare down at the floor, making sure your movements are timed to perfection as the single file line continues on. Right foot, you don't dare to let your thoughts linger until the task at hand is finished, you have a job to do. There was one person behind you, two in front, you couldn't mess up your synchronization. Left foot, you know you are safe with these experienced members of the foundation by your side. Right foot, so why is your heart beating so rapidly?

...Left foot, you slowly move your gaze from the floor to the back of the person in front of you's helmet. You were now in sync, and with that a newfound sense of ease ran past you. Left, right, left, right, they did not speed up nor did they slow down, leading to perfect synchronization of your unit. How calming for a worrying mind, left foot. You slowly felt more at ease than ever before In your job. No need to think about the danger or the risk, all you needed to do was stay in perfect synchronization with your group.

Right foot, you no longer even had to keep track in your mind, you feel into the pattern naturally. Left foot, you walked passed corridor after corridor, one containment area right after the next, you could feel the pattern slipping away from your mind. It was now an instinct. As it should be.

Your group came to a halt, still standing at attention, single file line in front of a door. Your squad's leader got out of formation from the front of the line and slowly moved towards the end of the line, where a small clipboard was. He picked it up, and slowly started reading the information about the SCP. You heard him mumble "049."

He then put it down, scanning the group still standing single file. "All of you, fall in." Quickly, you now all stood horizontally in front of him. He then continued "Procedure states we must sedate him, now do any of you know how to do that, or did they not go over it in training?" He looked around your squad, seemingly looking for any sign of yes.

The others didn't say much, and if they were anything like you, there's sweat slowly falling down their face. Still standing at attention, you didn't move your head to look at the person that took a step forward towards the squad leader. "No sir." The voice spoke, lighter than expected "They did not go over sedation. Only transferring the SCP from one place to another. They said special cases like this would be taught later on the field."

He sighed at this, and you could swear you could vaguely see a frown under the shaded visor. The voice stepped back in formation, then he began to speak once more. "Well, luckily for you all, I'll teach you." He then went to the opposite side of the hall, opening the door with a keycard, and entering, leaving your group outside.

The soft voice that spoke to the squad leader, now spoke to you. "Hello." They raised their hand for you to shake "It's nice to meet you." You shook their hand, a smile now creeping up upon your face "My name is Jenny, what's yours?" You say your name, and how glad you are to meet them as well.

"That's Rocky, he doesn't talk much" they say, pointing at the final one in the line. "Absolutely a sweetheart though, me and him have been through thick and thin, his story has touched me in a way no one else can." Even from here and the black transparent visor, you could see a big grin coming up on Rocky. "And even after all these years, he's never told me his real name."

You could see Rocky roll his eyes, Jenny quips back without even looking at him "Don't you roll your eyes at me, mister. Some of us don't like that attitude. Every time I ask, you keep changing the name you give me!" As soon as they had finished talking, Rocky approached them, pulled up his visor to show his beautiful dark eyes, and then very dramatically rolls his eyes in front of them. "Rude." Jenny mumbled, still with a smile on their face.

Rocky slowly put his visor down, and got back in formation. He poked Jenny, and she did the same. So, you mimic their movements, making sure your heels were lined up with their own as if you were in the military. That's when you heard the footsteps of your leader, getting ever so close. "Rocky also has good hearing" Jenny whispered to you, as soon as they had stopped to get back in position, the door started to open.

Out came the squad leader, who now stood in front of you "Attention!" He called out, and you all made sure you were in position. You noticed he was holding both a needle and a collar of some kind. "This," he held up the collar, chains falling down as he held it up "is a Class 3 Humanoid Restriction harness. It has a lock, which I have the key to at the moment, and these," he pointed at the chains now hanging off of the harness "are the extension restraints."

"Now, this is what you need to focus on, this is what you sedate him with." He now held up the needle, handing it to you with one hand. "Be sure to get it in his neck," he then looked at Rocky and Jenny "And you two soon after better put that on him and lock him in." He hands Jenny the key, while Rocky gets the harness. "Not very hostile, but don't put your guard down." He said, and slowly got out another keycard.

"Never put your guard down." He whispered, more to himself, and swiped the card. Access granted, the key pad said, and you heard the door unlocking. It then opened, revealing a small cell. You couldn't see who was inside, everyone was crowding at the door, but you could hear a voice. A calm, metallic sounding voice, something resembling a humans speech.

"Ah, good evening. I hope that all has gone well for a fine day, yes?" The voice asked, but to no response. "I see, tough day. Well, let's move this along shall we. Everyone is waiting for what will happen, and we mustn't dawdle." You can hear the rumbling of footsteps, hard walking shoes against the cold hard floor. "Well, come along now, we haven't got all day."

You carefully scoot your way inside, making sure that not a single drop of the sedation would fall. "Ah, good evening, how's your day been thus far?" He asked of you as approached him, preparing to make the needle go inside his skin. You couldn't mess this up, you wouldn't mess this up.

"My day's been fine, how about yours?" You responded, adding leeway for the conversation to continue with the SCP.

"Ah, what a lovely voice, so good to have a chat. I take it's your first time sedating, now isn't it?" You heard laughter coming from it "Well not to worry," they moved a bit of his cloak to get a better view of where the mask ended and where the neck would be, but it was covered in cloth. They pointed to a spot, assumed to be where its neck is "just insert it here."

You saw as the needle approached, it slowly dropped its hand, now sure you'd put it in properly. As you pumped it into him, and brought out the needle, it asked "What is your name, I do not see a name tag of any kind on you."

"Name tags are always removed before entering a SCP's cell now, basic protocol. My name is (Name)." You couldn't tell if the drug was kicking in or it was shock, but you could see SCP 049 tense up. You slowly move out of the way as Jenny and Rocky put on the harness of his, with the squad leader telling them how to properly put it on it.

You couldn't focus on the conversation however, as there was a more pressing issue in your mind. Despite you ending the conversation then and there, the SCP still stared at you with the same shocked and tense expression, its eyes scanning yours for something unknown. "What was that?" Jenny asked the creature "You're mumbling, you know that right?"

049 looked at them and mumbled an apology, but as soon as possible they looked back to you. Eyes now locking with yours. "Alright, stand up" the squad leader asked 049, and they complied. "(Name), hold one of the harnesses, you two do the same." Great, now you'd have to get closer.

As you picked up one of the harnesses, 049 started to speak, but it sounded more like mumbling to himself "Is that really you, my dear? You look so different.." his eyes never left yours.

"That doesn't knock him out, but be sure to take anything he says with a grain of salt," he said to the group "now move out, we haven't got all day!" Slowly, your group started to move. Once out the door, your group's pace quickened.

"Do you remember me?" They asked "It was such a long time ago, it must feel like a faded memory, I bet you hardly remember it at all." He got a bit close to you "But I did. I remembered." You saw Rocky tug on the harness, trying to get them away from you, and they slowly moved back closer to the middle. "How could I forget?"

"Wow, he must be really loopy, huh? Guess that drug was more effective than thought." The leader said, "Just ignore his ramblings, once he gets back to normal he'll apologize."

While the drug limited how loud and fluently they could talk, the SCP spoke once more "They treat me like an animal (Name), only referring to me as a person when it's convenient, when I'm near. But not you, no, I'm a person to you, I always have been." It sounded drunk, almost as if the drug was nothing but alcohol.

Jenny giggled at the little speech it just gave, and it only gave them a side eye, then turning back to you. "You- You look... angelic. I- my goodness. A dove for an angel. That's the best way to describe us right now, correct? None of these dark, vile, crows could be a dove, yes?"

It sounded religious, like a prayer, an erratic saying of devotion. "I missed you, I missed you being near, and by my side. I miss-"

"My apologies," you interrupt "but we've never met before. Perhaps the name is similar to someone close, but sadly, I am not. Perhaps when this drug wears off, we can have a nice civil chat, I'm sure your interviewer might allow it." You try and be nice, but you don't want to say you don't see 'him' as a person. Not yet, it will have to earn the title.

"...Yes, we can talk." They said with a cheery attitude, almost ignoring most of what you had said. "Yes, you must hear of how lonely I was when you went, oh how the night before we had danced the night away. Hand in hand. Sleeping in the same bed, but the next morning, you were not there. And while we can no longer dance the night away, perhaps we can chat it away, my dear."

How dramatic, sounds like something straight out of a play. Testing room after testing room, after a few more minutes you had finally met your destination. "No, I am not ready to go. Not yet. My dear, no..." His mumblings and his rambles made all three of you uncomfortable, but the leader just stood with a poker face.

"Don't worry, Loverboy, (Name) will still be here when you finish. Now go on and get inside." He then yelled out to the interviewers and researchers "AND SOMEONE GET THIS DRUG OUTTA HIM.*

They looked confused, one even tilted their head. "But, with all due respect, what did you give him?"

It was now his turn to be confused "What do you mean? I gave him CO-491, the standard protocol sedation tool for 049! Did you all change it, cause now he's all loopy and talking about (Name) as if she's its lover!"

He pointed at you, and you could see all heads turn "What the sedation is, is a mix of lavender and a few more chemicals to calm him down. This has been done time and time again.*

"He's fully sentient and aware of what he's saying and doing." The researcher then looked at you "Would you mind telling us what happened?"

You saw one interviewer come out with a frown "He keeps asking for a (Name). Says he won't talk unless (Name's) there." All eyes turned to you "Well are you coming?"

"... Alright." You looked through the one way window, 049 looked calm, but you couldn't tell whether it was because he was alone or because he had asked for you. The interviewer brought out their key card and swiped it, opening the door.

"Here they are 049, as requested." The interviewer said. You walked through the door, and you could feel his cold gaze on yours.

"My darling (Y/N), please, have a seat. There is much we must discuss."

[idontblushsrry]

Levitating|| Shunsui Kyoraku

Pairing: Shunsui x GN Reader

WC: 1,555

A/N: This started as a writing exercise so that I could get back into the flow of writing again but I like it so I'm posting it. Sorry I've been MIA for like 2 years, I'll be posting on again/off again for a while. Also I changed some of the lyrics of the song, Dua Lipa stans pls don't come for me.

Warnings: None, some swearing?, there's talk of marriage because I feel like the Soul Society doesn't really have "dating"

Shunsui + Levitating

I believe that you're for me, I feel it in our energy // I see us written in the stars

Shunsui knew that he was an old man. It was a notion he never attempted to disavow himself of, finding it to be a pointless endeavour; Besides, he was proud of his age.

With age, comes wisdom, one that he has refined enough to know not to deny the fluttering of his heart whenever he so much as heard your name. For him, it was nothing to be  embarrassed about, no matters of the heart were. He would readily admit that it was a bit disorienting. One moment he’d be talking with Nanao and suddenly his breath would be stolen at the slightest hint of your perfume. 

You possessed a gift so unique, a hold over him like no other. Being in your presence somehow managed to send him back to his days in the academy, leaving him feeling like nothing more than a lovesick student. You’d set his heart alight and made it seem as though the world was slipping away every time you smiled. Your visage immediately righted any wrongs. He was sure that your laughter could cure any affliction he may be ailed with. To put it simply, Shunsui had found himself utterly enraptured by you and yet, he didn’t mind. The butterflies you’d managed to elicit from him only added to the weightless feeling he’d become stuck with since meeting you.

We can go wherever, so let's do it now or never, baby // Nothing's ever, ever too far

You hadn’t treated Shunsui any different from normal, but it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. The usually laid-back yet sharp captain suddenly became ditzy and distracted whenever you so much as glanced at him. He was quite obvious, and though he hadn’t quite acted upon his feelings, he’d made it clear where he stood. His schedule as head captain didn’t allow him free time at the best of moments and yet Nanao somehow found herself overencumbered trying to fit ‘Lunch with Y/N <3’ into Shunsui’s schedule.

“I don’t see why you don’t make things official with her. Everyone already knows that you two are sickeningly in love with each other”, Nanao would frequently complain.

Shunsui would always fix her with a look that would make her regret saying anything and reply, “Matters of the heart can’t be rushed.”

If you asked Nanao, it was all arbitrary bullshit. If she voiced that particular complaint however, Shunsui would “remind” her that she’d “understand when you have someone to love”.

Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes//Shining just the way we are

“Oh Shunsui, this is lovely.”

As you cooed over the late-night picnic that he set up, he took a moment to examine your features. The curve of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the reverent way your hair framed your face. Everything about you looked lovely as usual, bathed in moonlight however…

He’d give you anything you wanted.

When you looked at him with those eyes, endlessly rich and glittering with the light of the night sky, he couldn’t help but yearn to kiss you. Even just a gentle press against your lips, oh how he’d kiss you so lovingly. He’d hold you so gently and ask if he could have just one more, one more, one more.

Your gaze flickered down to his lips.

He ran his tongue over them and he swore your eyes grew darker.

You placed a tentative hand into his hair, nervous but sure fingers weaving their way into his tresses. He swears then and there that he has never loved his hair more (if only so that there’s more of him for you to touch).

He cups your face with his hand. You lean into his palm and smile. He feels that weightless feeling come back as he leans forward to feel that smile against his skin when--

“Oh Shunsui look! Did you know there were going to be fireworks tonight?”

He did, it’s one of the reasons he planned a date on the rooftop of his home. He wanted you to see the fireworks and he wanted to see the way your skin would look bathed in the multi-colored light. He doesn’t regret the way your face lights up, this time in awe, but he does wish the timing could’ve been a little better.

He supposes the feeling of your body pressed against his is an apt substitute.

I feel like we're forever, every time we get together//But whatever, let's get lost on Mars

It is not long after the night with the fireworks that Shunsui decides that maybe Nanao was right. He found that the temptation of you was far too much for him to bear. He’d been distracted since that night with thoughts of you, driven himself half mad wondering what could’ve been if he’d leaned in a fraction sooner.

It isn’t until he visits your office for a quick cup of tea (something that both you and Nanao have scolded him for) that he has this realization however. You tell him that you don’t have much time to chat, Seireitei Communications is running some special issue from what he can recall, but you’re happy to spend this time with him. 

As you get up, telling him he’s free to stay as long as he’d like, “Although, you really should get back to work Shunsui, you’ll stress poor Nanao out”, and leave, he feels a sinking feeling for the first time in relation to you. It all just clicks for him that he wants the feelings he has with you to last forever. He wants a lifetime of levitating, of your joy, of your glittering eyes locked onto him, he wants you for as long as you’ll have him.

He realizes that the fluttering feeling comes back at the mere thought of calling you his spouse.

As he floats back to his office (he isn’t quite sure that his feet ever touch the ground), confusing every person he passes along the way, he places an order for a ring and decides to have a talk with you after things settle down.

Later, when you drop by his office with snacks as a small pick-me-up, you ask him what’s got him so giddy. He merely replies with a look that turns heated the longer he looks at you. It softens at the adorably flustered way you mess with your hair and look away from him. You try your damnedest to avoid making eye contact with him, squirming in such a way that, if he were less of a gentleman he’d pull you close and feel how affected one look made you.

As it stands, he decides he can wait a little longer.

‘You want me, I want you, baby’

After mulling it over, he decides he wants the proposal to be a private affair. The entirety of the Sereitei may know of your feelings for each other but that didn’t mean they needed to see this. He wanted to keep the way that your face-- nightsky eyes glimmering-- would light up to himself. He never considered himself to be a selfish man but he supposed when it came to you, everything became unexpected.

He still remembers the way his stomach, twisted in knots, became miraculously clear when you smiled. He asked if marriage was what you wanted, if it was ok to marry you. All the more reason to keep the proposal private, it’s much harder to reject a public suit from the captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads (you’d still reject him if you wanted regardless, another reason he was nervous).

You looked at him, trying to piece together what he was asking before deciding on your answer. “I’d love to marry you if that’s what you’re asking me Shunsui.” Somehow, your smile grew even larger, he wasn’t sure what his face looked like but he’s sure his grin matched yours.

Just thinking back to that day makes this moment all the more important. In the weeks following that conversation, you’d joked that you’d be eagerly awaiting his next move. He’d welcomed the challenge, stupidly. Now he was standing here fretting over if the grass was green enough, what if you suddenly became allergic to his shampoo-- He hoped that you wouldn’t notice the clamminess of his hands.

Another power that you found yourself ordained with, making the great Head Captain nervous. He could sense your spiritual pressure before you, which made him snap out of ‘panic mode’ into ‘focused commander mode’.

When he saw you, dressed up beautifully, jewels in your braided hair. He relaxed incrementally, this wasn’t a battle to be won, you were the one he loved. He was proposing, all he had to do was speak from the heart (easy) and hope you’d accept (he was sure you would but he was nonsensical at the best of times).

He saw recognition in your eyes, like a loose thread that has finally been tucked back into place. Your eyes tear up as he moves to ask you the question that has plagued his mind for months.

You nearly burst into tears, nodding happily and sealing your engagement with a kiss.

I'm levitating

[folkookie97]

❝ at least for tonight ❞ — KTH

— SUMMARY: ❝ You're the new Victor of the Hunger Games. You survived, you're still alive. But at what cost? Your boyfriend – and also your Mentor – broke the one promise he shouldn't have to. ❞

— PAIRING: mentor!Taehyung x female tribute!reader

— TYPE: angst | hunger games!au, dystopia!au

— WORD COUNT: 720

— WARNINGS/TAGS: Hunger Games Setting, ambiguous/open ending, established relationship, implied/referenced character death, POV Second Person, survivor guilt, slightly PTSD, Sad!Taehyung, i wrote this while listening to Come in With the Rain (Taylor Swift)

— NOTES¹: Tributes receive Mentors who can contribute (or may not) to their win. And their Mentors are generally Victors from previous Hunger Games editions. You and Taehyung are the same age. You were dating even before his name was drawn in another Reaping, when he became a Victor. And a few years later he was your Mentor too.

— NOTES²: I wrote this inspired by one of my own old Everlark oneshots, but I changed 90% of the plot loool. Anyway, if you like it, maybe I can write more Hunger Games AU or at least develop more on this one (and make it a series in the future...)

— RELEASE DATE: March 05, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

You never liked storms. However, the situation had been getting worse in recent months, when rainy days like that brought lots of thunder with them. Noisy thunder. Noises that resembled explosions.

And a premeditated explosion in the Arena was what killed your younger brother in the last Games. Wasn't it? At least that's what you had the displeasure of seeing several times during that stupid Victory Tour. Rewatching the same death over and over again.

Rewatching your little brother's death.

The clock struck 4:56 A.M, but the storm prevented you from closing your eyes or even thinking about trying to sleep. Fear ached in your body. Fear of falling asleep and having more nightmares about your brother. Or about Taehyung too. Just like almost every night since you and him returned to Victors' Village.

You tossed and turned on the bed, trying hard to withstand your torment. Searching for efforts to stop the screams from leaving your throat.

And it was then that your heard the first knock on the entrance door.

At first, you thought it was a hallucination, some consequence after so many nightmares. So when you noticed that everything around you remained the same, you imagined that it could be just a bird hurt by the rain.

However, the second knock came. Stronger than the previous one and more hopeless too.

Maybe the wisest thing to do would be to curl up in your blankets again. But your impulsiveness managed to overcome all your logical and rational thoughts. Wisdom and emotional intelligence wasn't something you had in a long time since since you became the winner of the Hunger Games' recent edition.

When the third knock sounded, you was already standing in front of the door. Heart racing, your eyes squinting and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Darling?" The sight in front of you also seemed like a hallucination. A much more striking hallucination than that knock door. "You okay?"

"Taehyung?" His name fell from your lips without any effort, even though your hadn't said it in a few weeks. "Why are you here?"

God! You mentally cursed yourself for saying such words, the sentence coming out harsher than you expected. So, not knowing how to apologize and being tormented by the boy's sad look in your direction, you opened the door a little wider and allowed him to enter.

Taehyung thanked you quietly as he entered your living room, his clothes soaked and his squeaky boots getting messy all the way.

"What happened? Why you get rained on just to come here? It's dangerous! You could get sick!"

You felt your hands start sweating while Taehyung bit his lip and looked at the floor.

"I wanted to know if you were okay. The storm is very heavy today and I know it brings you more nightmares." The boy had some tears in his eyes when he looked at you, sneezing once at the end of the sentence and bringing a flash of pain to your heart. "Darling, I'm so sorry."

Feeling sorry was something very all-encompassing. What was he sorry for? Your brother's death? Your nightmares? Being the mentor to the "siblings tributes" and choosing attract more sponsors for you, his girlfriend, than your brother? Even though you had begged Taehyung after the Reaping to focus on letting you die.

You never wanted to be a Victor. It was your little brother who deserved it and who he should be. And maybe he would have been, if you hadn't fallen in love with Taehyung before his own Games' victory.

Yeah, you two had a lot to talk about. And Taehyung really had a lot to apologize for. But deep down you knew you couldn't kick him out of your house in the rain.

You sighed, approaching Taehyung with slow steps, touching his arm and giving him a light caress. "Go take a shower to warm up. I still have some of your clothes in my new closet."

Taehyung's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "You want me to spend the night here? Are you sure?"

"Not really. I still hate you for not keeping your promises. Maybe I'll hate you forever. But we both need each other at least for tonight..."

A sad smile emerged on his lips after he sighed. "Yeah... At least for tonight."