dream-small-do-big

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

It should be a given, she said. It should be a given.

But it wasn't, was it? Both Randall and Elizabeth knew that all too well. It should be a given, Emily and Dorian were both right in that regard...but unfortunately, that just wasn't a guarantee.

Which was why it was so genuinely surprising, so genuinely touching, when someone did treat them like human beings, not just like mere laborers who should be grateful they were given such jobs that made them "useful" at best, or scum of the Earth that should be seldom seen and heard even less so at worst. They shouldn't have to be surprised by the kindness of their fellow man (least of all from the very people they planned to wed), and they knew it...

…but they were just the same.

Still, both of them tried to put these less-than-happy musings out of their minds as Elizabeth let Dorian hold her close, her heart soaring at the sensation of his arms around her waist, as Randall gave Emily a long and tender kiss, his heart skipping a beat at the touch of her lips against his, both of them silently thanking the heavens for these two wonderful lovers, who blessed their lives the way they did, who made their worlds a merrier place to live, even when it didn't seem so.

And provided the plan continued to go off without a hitch, it could be a merry life they could truly share, both Elizabeth and Randall silently promising to makes the lives of Dorian and Emily as joyous and wonderful as they made theirs.

[tavshortfortavern]

Reaper!Tav

Reaper is a job in ffxiv where the person makes a deal with a voidsent (being of pure dark aether) to share their power and fight with them in exchange for aether. They fight with a giant scythe and can absorb souls to gain a new form where they merge with the Reaper and look even more demonic. A voidsent is always consumed by hunger and can never really be satiated.

Characters: Wyll, Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor

Warnings: None

Notes: Some crossover stuff. Reaper is the coolest job. Aesthetically and storywise. I really need to get back on track instead of coming up with new ideas

Wyll

Has never heard of a voidsent so assumes your a warlock like him

In a way the two classes are similar. Devils are a lot more cunning and into contracts. Your voidsent is simply a ravenous beast.

The voidsent won't manipulate you into anything. But you feel their bottomles hunger like its your own, making you act rather scary in battle especially when you channel them and become enshrouded

There are clear ups and downs. But if you had to ask, you rather deal with the beast than annoying fucks like mizora or raphael

Once he meets your avatar his alarm does grow. Its definitely different from Mizora but no less dangerous

Overtime he does come to see that you and the voidsent do have a fairer deal. No power plays or manipulation tactics, both of you stand to gain something frok each other.

The voidsent gets to feed and experience light for the first time coming from an eternally darkness ridden world and you get a powerful boost in strength

Has an easier time opening up to you about his deal with mizora and his origins

The two of you understand sacrifice and the want to protect something with everything you had

Admires the way you fight with a scythe. He hasn't seen people fight with such a weapon

You really do look like an avatar of death

But he trusts you to have a hold of that hunger

Dammon

The most open minded of the characters

First noticed you by that giant scythe you carry on hour back. He quickly knows its not a simple farming tool. Really it was a work of art. He's happy to repair it whenever you ask

Not a common weapon either but he's seen the way you weild it. Its enough to send enemies running

But he's also seen you enshrouded, a horrifying spectre clawing out of a dark portal, like Myrkul himself appearing, merging with you

He's been to the hells and seen his fair share. But seeing your new intimidating form made him almost run as well

Doesn't really understand magic as well as wizards but he's always been fascinated with infernal machinery which is a tabboo subject

So when he sees your voidsent out and about with you, is the least bothered by it. Not that he isn't, just less so.

You say you've kinda bonded with them. Telling him the story of a world consumed by darkness, its people turned into voidsent. Your voidsent was just a regular person at some point. he's horrified at the revelation

It was the reason you were willing to bring the avatar around. To see a world with light and color. It delighted him how sympathetic you were, changing his view on the voidsent

He's happy to hear you have a fair relationship, both being equals. Something not at all true for warlocks and their patrons

Might actually greet it when you come over with the voidsent still around

Rolan

Will never admit it but your enshrouded form genuinely scares him. He puts on a brave front

The actual voidsent scares him even more. Doesn't want it anywhere near him. Thank you

Early on he just wishes to avoid it. But when you end up saving him multiple times does he begin to care about your situation

Is the most openly against your deal with the voidsent. He's seen how infernal pacts go, nothing good comes from it. He can't imagine why you would want to lend it your mana. When doing so too much would kill you

And how do you know if this things won't take over?

When he notices you drained on mana, he'll lend some of his own. You did save him and his family after all

He really wants you to get out of this deal but you reassure him that the deal it equitable

You voidsent doesn't want you gone or worse, your its main source of food after all. And you'd like to think you've bonded with them after all this time fighting side by side

He'll huff and call you a fool but doesn't push it. He knows you can handle it better than most people, your kind and good, less likely to be consumed by the temptation of power

Just dont go pushing yourself for other people too much ok? He doesn't want you dying when he hasn't really paid you back (thats all no other reason- shutupyoutwo i can see you giggling!)

Also lectured you once not to bring your voidsent into the shop you'll scare his customers

Zevlor

During that first fight at grove he noticed the strange weapon you carried. It was odd to use a farmer's tool but maybe you needed to improvise?

Then he saw you weild it and the hairs on the back his neck stood up

You were a forced to be reckoned with. Suddenly it wasn't a farmer's tool but an instrument of Myrkul. Reaping souls of your enemies

It was almost mesmerizing watching you hack and slash everything around you. But he noticed the dark energy your attacks emitted

Like Rolan, majorly concerned when he witnesses the voidsent fight by your side

He eventually asks about your abilities and you don't hide the deal you made with this 'voidsent'

Quickly grows concerned for you. There's a chance you could drain yourself dry from fighting this way

At one point he sees you merge with this things and take on a menacing appearance. The scream you let out chilled him to his bone as it sounded inhuman. You dived into battle ravenously, like a man possessed, like a hungry beast

But he couldn't take over fighting, not when you outclass most people. Still he makes sure your not overexerting yourself

The voidsent wasn't a higher being and needed you just as much as you did. It soothed his worries a little but he never likes seeing it hang around

[quotidianish]

Usually there’d be some goofy ass art to go with an analysis of tf2 characters but art block is knifing me up right now so have headcanons which get a smidge too personal with the immigrant experience

The Defense class is my favorite out of the three, not only because of their in-game mechanics, but because of the potential they have for character. All of them are, in some way, more normal than the rest (or appear to be in the case of Engineer). Demoman’s just an alcoholic (nothing inherently wrong with addiction anyway), Heavy’s just real passionate about his job, and Engineer is, deceptively, rather level-headed. Just based on inference I like to think they are three people fundamentally damaged by the concept of the “American Dream;” to be religious and good and serve your country, no matter how bad it may treat you. On one hand, you’ve got two immigrants, and on the other, you’ve got a natural born Texan, raised in the Bible Belt, so of course said dream will impact them differently. Seeing both Demo’s and Heavy’s families, it’s safe to assume they’re both raised with a very collectivist mindset. With the Engineer, it is mere guessing based on the stereotypical image of a Bible Belt family. Being an immigrant in a country which doesn’t share your ideals is a rough integration process already, nevermind the potential discrimination their status as foreigners might lend them to (it’s the 70s cmon man). Hence they do not stay in America because they genuinely view it as home; they stay in America out of sacrifice; money is made for their families, be it in the Heavy’s case a necessity, or the Demoman’s, to please. Neither of their beliefs align with America’s, nor their physical appearance mimic that of a stereotypical American. Both of them have probably felt outcasted before- especially regarding their appearance- and this is no exception. The United States is but a well-paying prison. For Dell, though, it is, without doubt, his home. Bee Cave Texas basking in all its fine American  beauty. Regardless, it’s not as perfect as he was raised to think. (I’ve less to say on behalf of him, actually. I didn’t grow up in the Bible Belt, so lots of these ideas are mumbo jumbo from book and media portrayals.) He’s grown up in the perfect American family, a providing father, a loving mother, the face of every American cartoon and magazine. Good people with a faith in god, what more can he ask for? He didn’t exactly feel as though all the values he held truly represented him as a person. Maybe it’s a repressed homosexuality thing, or growing up as a little girl and deciding it wasn’t right for him thing, or generally realizing that his ideas were pretty outdated; especially when interacting with the rest of the Defense team. All three of them are from different continents, and still manage to find they have so much in common. MAN the POTENTIAL for CHARACTER (going insane. Truly the guys ever

[keplercryptids]

Hey, I sent an ask earlier asking about help with medications for migraines and I now see a bunch of your past resource posts. Thank you for taking the time to write and post about your experiences.

I was prescribed sumatriptan a few months ago, but haven't taken it often because it makes me feel dizzy, fatigued, lightheaded, and gives me brain fog. But I've been taking 50mg and never considered decreasing the dose! I plan to try 25mg now. I've been relying on ibuprofen, excedrin, and cannabis to treat pain which isn't great for my long term health. If you have any more suggestions, they are more than welcome and very appreciated

I guess I have 2 new questions, if you'll have em :)

1. So far I haven't found any of your posts that discuss preventative options. Do you have experience with these? What was your experience like?

2. Healthline says that one shouldn't cut or crush the tablet. Based on your posts, I assume your experience with doing this is fine, but I wanted to make sure before trying it.

Genuinely thank you for any help you may be able to give me. I downloaded the keeler method because of your recommendation.I appreciate it🐝

hi! some folks definitely get some gnarly side effects from sumatriptan. i was told by my physician that cutting the pill in half is fine, and i've been cutting the pills for 10 years without issue. but take that with a grain of salt, i'm obviously not a chemist lol. you may also want to ask your doctor about other triptans (rizatriptan, zolmitriptan, etc). it's possible that you'll react similarly to all triptans, but maybe there's an option that you'll tolerate better.

there are many options for migraine preventatives, which i have been exploring for 7 or 8 years now. keep in mind that my experience comes from living in the US with private health insurance. i can't speak to how you'd go about this in a different country or if you're uninsured, etc. also keep in mind that health insurance might not approve you for preventatives (especially the newer, better ones) unless you've been diagnosed with chronic migraine (meaning, 15 or more migraine days per month).

something i highly recommend to everyone suffering from regular headaches is to start taking magnesium. start at a lower dose (200mg daily), which you can increase to 400-600mg. magnesium is affordable, accessible and well-tolerated by most people, and is shown to be effective at preventing migraines. the main side effect is a laxative effect, so proceed cautiously if you have problems with that.

as far as prescriptions go, older migraine preventatives fall into three classes: antidepressants (usually amitryptaline), anticonvulsants (topiramate is a common one), and blood pressure medications. newer (and better, but more expensive) preventatives are: botox injections and CGRP inhibitors. in most cases, you'll need to jump through hoops to get these better preventatives. health insurance usually requires that you try and fail two of the three classes of old-school preventative before approving you for botox or CGRPs.

i've tried amitryptaline (did nothing; also, i don't tolerate antidepressants well) and three different anticonvulsants (topiramate, gabapentin and lamotrigine). i had horrible reactions to the anticonvulsants, with side effects like constant brain fog, tingling in my extremities, changes to how food tasted, increased headaches, and a full-body rash, to name a few. i don't say this to discourage anyone from trying these preventatives--in fact, many folks have great results with them. but they're medications used to stop seizures. they're heavy duty and the side effects should be weighed against their benefit.

botox (injected every three months by my neurologist) worked amazingly for about 6-8 months, and at its best i was only getting one or two migraines a week (which for me is great). but over the last six months, it stopped working as well and i was back to getting 10-15 migraine days per month. i would have liked to keep getting botox while pursuing other options, but insurance wants you to try monotherapies first. so i stopped botox and i'm in the process of getting approved to try aimovig (a CGRP inhibitor that you inject yourself once a month). there are other CGRPs that are in tablet form, like nurtec. CGRPs work remarkably well for lots of people, so i'm hopeful.

as a final note to this very long post lol, if you're able to get a referral to a neurologist or, better yet, a neurologist with a migraine/chronic pain specialty, i highly recommend doing so!

[i2chloe]

Authenticity: How to Be Diverse Without Solving World Hunger

By: Chloe Voorhis

Most American teenagers are younger siblings. Therefore, it can be assumed that they watched their sister or brother experience the college application process. So did I. My older sister, being in the grade above me, applied to colleges just one year before I am now. Her experiences are still fresh in my memory. My sister’s activity list was always more robust than my own. Hers showcased her position on the Student Council, her decade-long loyalty to her hockey team, her helpfulness as a stage crew member, and many other activities. Mine, on the other hand, lacked sports and numerous leadership positions like my sister and friends all had. I thought I had nothing to offer to colleges, nothing to write about in my personal statement. I didn’t believe there was a single diverse thing about me.

A common college essay question will ask students about the diversity they can bring to campus, their experiences with diversity in their life, or how they created diversity in their high school. Diversity is misconceived – it isn’t just about race and culture, but can also be “your love of science fiction, your ability to distinguish between all the varieties of pasta; your killer parcheesi game, [or] your Pied Piper-like rapport with small kids” (Kirkland and Hansen). Diversity can be the most simple thing about an individual and is possessed by everyone. However, the essay “ is itself a meter of privilege” that “creates a hierarchy of stories and experiences that are more accessible to some young people than others” (Kirkland and Hansen). Because of the importance placed on diversity by college admissions officers, some students may find the need to “fake” their diversity by joining multiple clubs they aren’t interested in to expand their activities list. While thinking about my own diversity, I felt the urge to stretch many of my experiences in ways I felt would be most appealing to admissions officers. This blurs the line between authenticity and trying to conform to expectations. While my own struggle to find diversity might be very different from the struggle of minority students, I find it interesting that one of the parts of the application process that has such a high value placed on it does not give everyone the same opportunity.

Before he was even of age to apply to college, Paul Rudnick pursued his interests in “designing chairs without legs for people who’d rather sit on the floor, developing alternative fuels, (...) and writing, directing, and starring in a Web series about [his] dorm room” which, of course, was “inspired by [his] unpublished graphic novel about the mouse who lived in [his] desert boots” (Paul Rudnick). What an activities list. If any of that sounds ridiculous to you, good. Rudnick’s essay satirically highlights student’s tendency to exaggerate on their college applications in order to fit the “standards” of the admissions council that are usually untrue. I believe a student should never join a club, sports team, volunteer organization, or take a certain class solely because they believe it will deem them more desirable or attractive to college admissions councils. This trend of students partaking in any activity they can (and, in Rudnick’s case, particularly ludicrous ones) in order to appear more diverse actually has had the opposite effect. It makes their applications less diverse since it seems almost every student is desperate to please admissions councils.

At the height of the admissions process, you might find yourself stressed-out and asking, “What’s the point? I haven’t solved world hunger or discovered a new periodic element, so why should I even attempt to reach the seemingly impossible standards of college admissions councils these days?” I know I have. Activity lists and personal statements matter more than we believe, regardless of whether you’ve made groundbreaking history or not. Transcripts and GPAs are not great predictors of life success. Instead, “‘non-intellective’ factors—like motivation and social skills—probably matter more” (Gladwell). Our activities list representing the true us, not an exaggerated kiss-up version, is one of the most valuable parts of the college admissions process. 

We are diverse. Everyone is. 

Show the true version of yourself to colleges. Partake in clubs you actually value, or authentically value your time outside school. Play a sport you truly love, or be happily unathletic. Whatever your college application looks like, make sure it’s you. Don’t be the student that exaggerates their application to be more diverse, let authenticity be your diversity.

[thingabmajig]

twenty-three: act my age

In case you don’t know me or you’re new here, this is my birthday tradition to post a reflection on my past year, along with a birthday playlist, since 2016. Here's the link to this year's birthday playlist, too: https://sptfy.com/2023actmyage. Hope you like it!

Now that I’m 23, I’ve realized how coming of age is easy but acting like it is the hardest part. Throughout my life, I sometimes never really felt like I acted my age—either I was too old or too young. This essay is a collection of twenty-three years of introspection from the outside looking in and a reflection on where I want to go in the future.

Going back to where it all began, around my nuclear family, the firstborn usually gets to teach the parents how to become one. Growing up, it's always a case of being the responsible and better person. To add insult to injury, being a son of church pastors isn’t necessarily easy either. You’re sometimes subject to other people’s expectations of holiness and goodness and even more from your parents preaching on it. Isn’t it that we’re just all the same too–falling short of perfection from God?

Things change quite differently when I'm with my extended family from my mother's side: I'm at the other end of the spectrum this time. Being the son of the youngest child, I'm also one of the youngest of the bunch. This meant that I had to look up a lot of times to my ates and kuyas and this felt quite nice for a very long time. It’s quite true when they say, “When you are young, they assume you know nothing.” There were no expectations and you’re always taken care of, but it wasn’t the case until I decided to be the family's overachiever.

Then back at elementary and high school, getting ahead of the curve sometimes requires you to fit in. This time, I'm also the youngest of the class, and finding someone you're older than (or the same age with)  is much harder than a needle in a haystack. I sometimes wonder whether this shift had me acting well beyond my age: that I thought I was older than I thought and that I had to act like them to fit the status quo. Suddenly, Club Penguin and Poptropica were child’s play when they became pivotal to my middle school life. One of my favorite (short-lived) phases of my life was college. I think that was the only time I found myself slightly acting my age—but not quite, though. Classmates of the same age became common and everyone was in the same blurry space of adulthood and youth altogether. Then again, you're at the national university, so what you once thought was the top of the world was just someone else's footing. Fun and happy it might have seemed, you were just an anchovy in an ocean full of whales.

It’s also one of the things I’ve learned growing up: getting older feels scary and overwhelming every time. Things start to change, you begin to question your place in this world, and you even lose the glimmer you have all this time. Taylor talks about this in her 2021 Seth Meyers interview on “Nothing New”. She says, “[They] have their breakthrough moment, and then, the moment after that is really hard for them because they’re just not getting the same [acclaim].”

One of those big changes came to me early this year: I got a job. Currently at one of the country's largest developers, aligning your behavior with your age seemed a bit harder than I expected. As a recent graduate, I thought people were more lenient to someone starting out their careers. Turns out, when you're just another cog in the system, people tend to forget your place in this world—that sometimes I feel like I’m a 29-year-old worker who's supposed to know the ins and outs of real estate after 5 years of experience. It was the most grueling time of my life in the last 9 months at work, but I guess that’s another story for me to tell.

Oh, it’s interesting that the world's also a bit harsher for people in their 20s. "Acting your age" suddenly becomes ambiguous too: some friends are off traveling the world setting to find their own selves, some getting married and settling down with families, some getting their licenses and post-graduates, and you’re still here. You question not only your place in the world as a lost 20-something trying-to-be-an-adult person, but what standards societies have placed on responsibility and adulthood altogether. Is adulthood even a social construct?

But who cares? I’ve long imprisoned myself towards other people’s expectations of me and put myself in roles they wanted of me, but this time I’m going to live by my own expectations and from people who mean the world to me. For me, being twenty-three means being free—especially from other people’s expectations—like the seagulls flying over the ocean. I won’t promise that I’ll “act my age”, but I promise to be the best version of myself regardless of what age I might be. This means being more mindful of myself and of everything and everywhere from now on. Simply put, I promise to put an extra worth on myself, seize the days to come, and be grateful for everything and everyone. As told by my hero, “I think it's important that you know that I will never change. But I'll never stay the same either.” 

Thanks for coming along with me and now we’re onto the next. I’m so excited for whatever lies ahead, and I really wouldn’t be here if not for all of you. 🙂

Time to run free, be me, and turn twenty-three.

[ACKNOWLEDGEMENT SECTION]

A massive thank-you to these twenty-three(+) people who made this year the absolute best:

Thank you, Mama, Papa, GG, and Mei-mei, my forever stronghold and (literal) home.

Thanks to the entire Solis and Ibañez families, for always supporting me behind my back in all that I do.

Thanks to the best-est bestie one could ever ask for, Kyle—no way I could ever make it sane today without you and your delulu-ness.

To my ever-faithful constants, Errol, Jang, and the rest of Team Squammy (Ge, Fel, Mark, and Jaubs), thanks for always being there rain or shine for me. Always grateful for you guys.

To my college boomer bestie, Hannah, to more chika with you soon! Absolutely love you from the moon and back.

Giyay, Ry, and Gellie—forever my idols and people I look up to in college! Thank you for the bond we made outside of org work and you’ve changed me forever always.

To my senior high school best friends, Hazel, Sefa, Anne, Edlyn, AM, Ed, and Jeriel, I feel like sometimes I’ve known you guys for a lifetime—forever my SHS treasures.

To my work family, Sir Elton, Ms. Jen, Ms. Jessa, Ms. Jane, Ms. Steph, Ms. Sah, Ms. Krissy, Ms. Keith (and Sir Rayn), and Gian, no words could ever amount to the kindness you’ve shown me in the last few months at work. Wouldn’t have made it sane and alive without you guys too. Thank you so so much!

[sinswithpleasure]

First (ft. TWICE's Mina)

[Y/N POV]

"I'm home!"

After a long day of classes over at university, I had finally returned home. Computer Science was not an easy course of study to take, and I usually returned home exhausted every day. I walked over to the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water and taking a swig to cool myself down from the walk home.

"Huh, usually Mina greets me with 'Okaeri'... I wonder where she is today."

I sat down at the dining table, resting my exhausted body on the dining chair. I smiled at the thought of my housemate. Sharing this house with her had made the bills so much easier to pay off, and her presence meant I did not have to live alone.

Myoui Sharon Mina's agreement to house with me was through an ad I put out online. I had gone through so many different housemates, and I was ready to give up looking. One was a party girl that kept on bringing guys over to sleep with, and I had walked in on them desecrating my furniture multiple times. Some skipped out on paying their share of the bills. I was starting to get disillusioned with the idea of housemates before she popped around.

Mina had contacted me for an interview through text. She was my last chance I gave myself before resigning to my fate and moving to a smaller apartment. I was expecting another party girl, or someone I would not like instantly. However, when I met up with her, I was instantly blown away with her looks. This woman could easily have featured on any fashion magazine, on the cover, no less. She looked like a modern day princess, and yet, she was just a college student majoring in Dance, and seeking a roof over her head with cheap rent. Mina was nothing short of polite during the interview, and she had laughed when I told her my horror stories of the previous housemates. Throughout the interview, she easily charmed me with her politeness, and her assurance that she was nothing like my previous housemates. While every interviewee I had met promised what she had promised as well, I had a hunch she would stick to her promise.

Mina was also nothing short of what might actually be the perfect housemate. Every time we met in the hallways or in whatever room in the house, she would always greet me in Japanese with a "Good morning/afternoon/evening" with a big smile on her face. She respected all house rules and did her share of the chores, as well as paid her bills on time. This lady was easily the most charming of all my housemates, and it was easy to live with her. Ever the homebody, her only trips out of her room usually was to go to class or to occasionally grab snacks from the fridge or cabinets in the kitchen. Over the months, she loosened up and began to socialise with me more. We bonded over a shared love for gaming and hatred for her many admirers. Many a night was spent killing aliens and raiding dungeons together while cursing out all her admirers. Mina had learnt to read people well from all the boys chasing her for her looks and money through her younger years before college, and it was easy for her to know who was after her for her looks and money. If we weren't gaming together, we were chilling together on the couch watching movies or working on our individual assignments at the table. Point is, she was the best housemate ever, being so easy to get along with, and knowing her limits with the house. She rarely brought anyone over, and if she did, she would get permission from me and clean up after to ensure everyone got the best out of the experience. Did I mention she was loaded? To my surprise, she would easily be able to afford buying her own property, but she refused to spend frivolously. Why waste money when it would be better spent elsewhere on the newest games and more snacks for gaming sessions and movie marathons, or even better, saved for the future?

Spending that much time with her at home slowly led me to develop a crush on her. It wasn't a common occurrence for a housemate to not only be top tier in morals and ethics, but for her to look like the princess of Japan. With her shoulder length ginger hair and a dazzling smile that showed her teeth and gums, along with her bright brown eyes that crinkle with her smile, she was someone that would not be out of place if she was on a painting in a Japanese history museum. Her face was decorated with a number of beauty marks; one on her forehead, one on both her cheeks, one on her nose bridge, another on the left of her nose, one on top of her lips, one below, and one on her chin. Even her body had some. One on her neck, one on her left shoulder, and one on her tummy. These beauty marks, specifically on her face, looked like a constellation in the night sky. She could be doing mundane things like noting words down on a notebook or pouring herself a cup of water, she seemed to execute every action with the elegance of a princess. Every time she looked at me, her hair seemed to fall in place, her side-parted bangs falling nicely to frame the side of her face, covering a bit of her right eye. This would be paired with her dazzling gummy smile or a slight curve of her lips and raise of her eyebrows. She was unhealthy for my heart and I had to try to hide my blush each time I would catch her eye. Knowing her perceptiveness, she probably had already picked up on my crush on her. I could never be sure though, since she had not mentioned anything in the year we've lived together.

"Strange," I muttered to myself, "she's usually home by now. Her classes end at 3pm today. Where is she?" I got up from the chair, wandering over to the hallway that led to both our rooms. Both doors appeared to be closed. "Huh. Guess I'll…"

A faint hiss of breath reached my ears. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination? Before I could dismiss it as so, another breath echoed out into the hallway. That sounded like Mina's breathing… What was she doing? She was home?

I tiptoed my way towards the sounds, each one bringing me closer to my destination. Without noticing, I had stopped in front of Mina's room.

A gasp this time. As my hand reached to knock on the door, I noticed that said door was slightly ajar. While I hesitated to peek in, curiosity won, and I leaned to look into her room.

"What the fuck?" My jaw dropped from shock.

Myoui Sharon Mina lay on her queen sized bed, her ginger hair splayed out, a halo on her pillowcase. Her back was arched, chest pushed out, taut nipples straining the thin T-shirt covering her body. One hand of hers gripped the sheets of her bed, balling them in her fist, as the other…

Her other hand was shielded by her legs, but it was obvious what she was doing to herself, with muffled slick and wet sounds emanating from between her legs. Her shorts were thrown haphazardly next to where she lay on the bed, her panties still around her hips. Both knees met each other as she clenched her thighs around her hand. Her beautiful eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed, her bottom lip trapped underneath the bite of her teeth in an effort to muffle whatever sounds her voice would make.

I almost let out a gasp of my own. Arousal shot straight down to my groin, my cock beginning to harden at the sight. Never in my wildest dreams would I expect to physically see my housemate fucking herself with her fingers. Sure, in the year I had fantasized a lot about her during my own relaxation sessions, but those would only remain as fantasies. I was a little bit ashamed to admit that prim and proper Myoui Sharon Mina was the object of a lot of my sexual fantasies. I always imagined her stripping for me, our lips locking and tongues meeting, as we made love with each other, or her bent over a desk while I took her from behind, or if I was having sex with her in missionary position on my bed. I had also dreamed up this scenario before, where it ended up with us having sex with each other. Many a night was spent thinking about her body under her clothes, from her average sized breasts under her T-shirts or sweaters, to her round ass under her jeans, or to her solid abs whenever she wore anything that showed her core muscles. However, never would I have ever thought that this would come true in reality.

"Aaah~..." A moan broke my reverie. Mina had moved her left hand from balling the sheets to cup her right breast over her shirt, kneading the soft flesh. She whimpered at her own ministrations, before pinching her erect nipples over the T-shirt. "Mmmh~ fuck..." She shifted on the bed, panting at the exertions of her right hand between her legs, and the pleasure she was giving herself. Each time she pinched her nipple, she would arch her back a little, before biting her lip and letting out a soft "Mmmf~".

I knew I should retire to my room and leave her alone. This was an invasion of her trust and privacy, and my peeping on her, whether accidental or not, was not something I should be doing. However, I could not will my eyes to tear away from the sight of Myoui Sharon Mina fucking herself with her fingers. While I could not see what she was doing to herself, I could only assume she was circling her own clit through the motions of her forearm. My dick was straining against my jeans now, and I squeezed it to alleviate some pressure. Mina now had swapped to her left breast, and she had stopped biting her lip, opting to just pant in pleasure.

I was sure my underwear was ruined by now, with the amount of pre-cum I was producing. Unable to take the straining, I unzipped my jeans and let my bulge out. I did not want to pull my dick out or jerk off as she could catch me as I caught her, and that would easily ruin our current friendship beyond repair. Shit, this wasn't the dream I envisioned at all…

"Aaaagh~! Fuck it!"

Mina's unusually loud exclamation of frustration echoed out of her room. I looked up from my actions with my pants in time to see her fingers hook under the waistband of her panties and aggressively rip them off her hips. She kept her eyes shut as she raised her hips to allow for herself to remove the offending undergarment. Pulling harshly at her panties, she raised her legs up and flung them to a corner of her room, before yanking her shirt up to expose her breasts. Her legs returned to their prior position, with her thighs clenched around her right hand, circling at her most private of areas.

Another pang of arousal shot to my groin, and I felt more pre-cum flowing out of my dick. Holy fucking shit, Mina was a fucking goddess. As mentioned prior, her average breasts were fitting for her frame, but to see these same breasts naked… they were perky and smooth, and her nipples pert, the areola small. These same nipples were just as taut as they were under the T-shirt, their light brown a nice transition from the honey-fair skin she had. God, she was so fucking hot and I wished she would take me to bed with her. Before I could fully believe in my luck, Mina unknowingly took what might have been her killing shot at my health and well-being.

"Mmmh~ yes~!"

Mina's closed legs from before fell to their sides as she spread herself on the bed. Another rush of pre-cum shot out of my dick as I finally saw Mina's wet pussy for the first time. She was shaved clean, her pink lips spread and glistening with arousal. Mina's fingers were rubbing on her clit roughly, her left hand pinching her nipples directly now. She squirmed and whimpered with each tug on her own nipples, and the sinful words that left her mouth next almost made me moan out loud, had I not covered my mouth quickly.

"Fuck, yes, [Y/N], Aaaah~!"

Mina's middle and ring fingers penetrated her own pussy, as she moaned my name repeatedly. "Mmm~ fuck~ [Y/N]... aaah~ you're so big, so hot, mmmh~" Her fingers thrusted in and out of herself. I could see her drenched fingers each time she pulled out, showing how turned on she was. She angled her hand to allow for the pad of her thumb to rub her clit, and her fingers appeared to curl inside her with each thrust. "Yes! Right there! Mmmf~ fuck!" Her motions seemed to get faster and faster, as she writhed on her bed at the pleasure she was feeling. I gripped onto my bulge, rubbing myself over my briefs. Mina's moaning of my name turned me on so much; my dick was twitching in its confinements. I was barely controlling myself, and I could feel my willpower slowly leaking away. However, I disciplined myself and kept myself from going further than that.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Shit! That feels so good, fuck~! I'm so close, I'm so close, fuck! [Y/N], fuck, [Y/N], I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna fucking cum on your cock, fuck, I'm gonna- aaAAAH~!"

Mina's hips bucked wildly as she thrashed in pleasure on the bed, her fingers fucking herself through her orgasm. I nearly came in my pants at the sight of her, as her loose hand gripped onto the bed sheets as an outlet for the pleasure wrecking her lustful young body. Mina's body glistened with sweat, her flushed skin wet from the sweat that formed from the exertion of her masturbation. She withdrew her fingers from her pussy, raising them to her eyes as she played with the strings of sticky fluid between said fingers. Mina then put her fingers to her mouth, her tongue darting out to clean them of the juices from her orgasm. The smile on her face depicted the afterglow of her orgasm. Her head tilted towards the door after, her eyes opening slightly as she panted heavily. The same pair of eyes appeared to have met mine, and I darted back to my room before I could verify. Panic coursed through my veins, and as I shut my room door too loudly for my liking, I leaned against the wall, face in my palms. I had no idea how I was going to face her if she really caught me peeping on her…

'Tomorrow's problems for tomorrow's me,' I told myself. For now, I had my issues to solve in the form of my arousal, and what better than a cold shower?

----------

[Mina's POV]

I'd caught [Y/N] peeping on me.

Well… this was mortifying. I'd been loudly moaning his name as I fucked myself and he'd probably watched every second of it.

Shit… his schedule today ends at 4pm… he could make it home in the time it took me to masturbate. How could I forget? Stupid me!

He did seem very happy to watch me though, evident from the hard bulge sticking out of his zipper and the wet spot that formed on his briefs…

How was this now a development in both our lives?

I'd returned home earlier that day, in the afternoon. The stress of the day was overwhelming; my assignment for a choreography was due soon and I still had lots to work on and practice. Furthermore, many other classes I took had assignments due, and I barely had enough alone time to myself as is. I moved to my room, changing from my school outfit to my home outfit, a simple plain white T-shirt and shorts. 'Fuck wearing the bra,' I thought, 'finally I get to be free of it. It's not like [Y/N] returns home soon anyway.'

I made a trip to the kitchen for a cup of water. It was rare to get some alone time at this point of the semester, and the stress was getting to me. As I leaned on the kitchen counter, drinking from my cup, my brain led me down a train of naughty thoughts.

'You're home alone, Mina. [Y/N]'s not here. You're stressed and you haven't masturbated in weeks. What's stopping you now? He doesn't come home early today…'

It was true, I was pent up for weeks and desperately needed a good orgasm. Every day was spent working on my assignments or choreographing something. I needed a release and it had been a while since I'd fingered myself. Heat pooled at my stomach; the need to masturbate had increased tenfold.

I returned to my room, giving the door a half-hearted push, and making myself comfortable on my bed. Rubbing myself over my shorts, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. My thoughts were a mess at the beginning, but they slowly coalesced into the form of my housemate.

[Y/N] was a solid housemate. Ever the respectful man, he was never rude and unpleasant to anyone he knew, and he made it a point to be especially polite to any service staff he had the pleasure to meet. Every time I went out with him to restaurants or diners, the waiters or waitresses always received the utmost respect from him, and if he could tip them, he could. 'They are doing their best, and I'm sure any bit helps' was his reasoning when questioned. He cared for me a lot, always offering me a listening ear and advice when required, and I will never regret my decision to ask him to cuddle with me once when I was really down in the dumps. He became my best friend and my rock within the year we've lived together, and it wasn't difficult to end up crushing on him. He was able to lead me through my indecisiveness and take my hand through so many issues I'd face, and he knew how to be playful and have fun, such as dissing my many admirers or any stupid characters in movies in humorous ways. This man was my ideal type.

As I felt my arousal grow at the thought of [Y/N], I thought of all the times I saw him shirtless at home. As if it wasn't enough to be my ideal type of man already, being able to lead me and be playful and mature when required, he was lean, fit, and tall. I'd seen him return home after going for jogs, or when he'd work out at home. His body, shining with sweat, droplets cascading down his broad shoulders to his defined chest, running over his beautiful six-pack abs… His thick biceps and triceps…. This man was not built like a bodybuilder; I know my descriptions make it seem like he was one but he was just one sexy lean and fit man. I wonder what he packed between his legs...

My thoughts wandered to the times I've seen him flushed and panting after the exertion of workout, and I wondered if he'd look and sound the same if he was flushed and panting from jerking his cock… I imagined him lying on his bed, jerking his cock. Fuck, I was getting so wet, and there wasn't enough stimulation over my shorts…

At this point, I was breathing a little heavier from the pleasure coursing through my veins. I raised my hips, pulling my shorts off my hips and haphazardly flinging it to the side of the bed. My right hand returned to my pussy, rubbing it all over my panties. My nipples had hardened from arousal over the course of my ministrations and they were now tenting the loose tee I had on. My other hand gripped the sheets, seeking an outlet with the pleasure I felt. Rubbing my clit over my panties felt really good, but I hungered for actual contact. Slipping my hand under the waistband of my panties, I sought out my clit. The first contact of my fingers and my clit led me to buck my hips involuntarily, letting out an "Aaah~". My knees knocked against each other as I clenched my thighs around my hand.

As I rubbed circles around my clit, I imagined [Y/N]'s fingers on my pussy. I imagined his fingers rubbing my clit the same way I was now, as he leaned over me shirtless, lowering himself to bring his lips to mine. I bit my bottom lip, hissing in pleasure, as I imagined him licking at my lips and meeting my tongue with his, frenching me as he pleasured my pussy just the way I liked. God, this fantasy was making me so wet; I felt my juices flowing out of my naughty pussy and wetting my fingers. If this carried on, I'd surely end up wetting my underwear.

My fingers kept circling my clit as I arched my back, pushing my nipples against the thin material of my T-shirt. "Aaah~ fuck~" I moaned, my fist balling the sheets under me. I bit my lip again, keeping my vocal outlet to hisses and releases of breath. I kept circling my clit, refusing to give in to the temptation to play with my own breasts.

In my mind, [Y/N] had stopped frenching me and had turned his attention to my neck. I imagined his tongue running a line from my collarbone to my neck, before he bit onto my earlobe. I imagined him whispering to me, "You're mine now, Mina. All mine…" I writhed on the bed at the thought, leaning my head to the left, exposing my neck to the [Y/N] in my fantasy. As he left butterfly kisses down my neck, I imagined him pulling back up and asking, "Ooh, what's this?" as he reached for my right nipple. I released the tightly balled sheets from my iron grip, timing my movements with my fantasy. Imaginary [Y/N] tugged on my nipple, fondling my right breast over my T-shirt. I could not resist the moans that left my lips, and I let the fantasy run wild as I rhythmically tugged on my nipple, my fingers now teasing the entrance of my pussy, coating my fingers in my fluids.

"Mmmf~ fuck~" The wet, slick sounds of my fingers playing with my pussy echoed in my room, as I prepared to penetrate myself. I was very pent up now, as I imagined myself stripping naked to let imaginary [Y/N] fuck my slutty pussy with his hard cock. I couldn't take my own teasing any longer.

"Aaaagh~! Fuck it!" I hooked my thumbs to the waistband of my panties, frantically pulling them off myself. Pulling up my shirt to expose my bare breasts to the cool air, I began to fondle myself, ignoring the volume of my moans. I spread my legs wide, letting the [Y/N] in my mind see how wet I was for him. At the same time, I circled my clit for a short while more before penetrating myself with my middle and ring fingers, imagining a naked [Y/N] penetrating my wet pussy with his hard cock. I moaned his name out loud at the pleasure from my fingers. My pussy sucked my fingers in, squeezing them in a vice like grip. My tight pussy refused to let my fingers go, and I released a loud exclamation and moan of [Y/N]'s name. I was so fucking wet now and wished [Y/N] was fucking my pussy for real.

"How does my cock feel in your pussy, babe? How does it feel having me fuck your wet slutty pussy?" I began to thrust my fingers in my pussy, my other hand gripping my breasts hard, mimicking the imaginary [Y/N] fucking my slutty body. "Mmm~ fuck~ [Y/N]... aaah~ you're so big, so hot, mmmh~," I moaned out, "you fuck me so good, so fucking good~ aaah~ I need more of your cock~"

I angled my hand to be able to both thrust in my pussy and rub my clit directly. "Yes! Right there! Mmmf~ fuck!" With practiced ease, my fingers rubbed the rough patch on the front of my pussy on each thrust, and it did not take long before I was on my way to orgasm.

I could hear [Y/N]'s gruff voice in my ear as I worked my way to orgasm. "You're mine, Mina. I'm gonna fuck you until you cum on my cock, and I'm gonna fill your pussy with my cum. Take my cum, slut." Imaginary [Y/N] began to pound my pussy as I simulated his thrusts through the use of my fingers. My pussy got tighter and wetter with each thrust, each tug of my nipples fraying the tense rope keeping me from falling over the edge. I was so close, so fucking close… I needed to cum hard...

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Shit! That feels so good, fuck~! I'm so close, I'm so close, fuck! [Y/N], fuck, [Y/N], I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna fucking cum on your cock, fuck, I'm gonna- aaAAAH~!"

My pussy squeezed my fingers within as a rush of fluid sprayed onto my fingers and palm. My hips bucked uncontrollably as I carried on thrusting through my orgasm to prolong the pleasure, my free hand dropping back to the sheets and gripping them as I writhed in pleasure, riding out the orgasm I desperately needed. My tight pussy finally relaxed enough for me to pull out, and my lust-addled thoughts brought me to bring my fingers up to let me taste my own cum. I licked my own juices akin to my favorite ice cream, short licks harvesting my cum from my fingers into my mouth. I smiled at how naughty I was, imagining my lovely housemate railing my slutty body, wet and ready for him to fuck, fingerfucking myself to him, and then tasting my own cum. As I lay exhausted on my bed, I made myself comfortable, opening my shut eyes to catch eye contact with [Y/N], peeking through the crack in my open door, squeezing his bulge that stuck through the zipper of his jeans, the wet spot evident on his briefs.

[Y/N] darted to his room straight after, and I could not believe he had just watched and heard me fucking myself while fantasizing about him. Again, I was very mortified. How could I forget he came back early today??

I had so much to think about now… what do I do and how can I face him for dinner tonight?

Flashes of [Y/N]'s bulge whizzed past my mind again, sending a new wave of arousal down to my pussy. Fuck… what do I do now? Groaning in embarrassment, I divested myself of my tee, wrapping myself in a towel, grabbing clean clothes, and going for a shower.

----------

[Y/N's POV]

The cold shower did not help.

Throughout my shower, I was painfully hard. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear Mina moaning my name, see her fingers thrusting into her wet pussy, the slick sounds of her arousal ringing in my ears, and the visual of her arching her back, her face frozen in a broken scream, hips bucking wildly as she fucked her own pussy through orgasm, and her naughty smile as she licked her fingers clean.

I sighed in resignation at my current situation. It was clear that I'd have to deal with this issue myself over the next few days and try to maintain a normal relationship with Mina. Opening the door to the bathroom while drying my wet hair, I met Mina's wide brown eyes staring back at me, her bare arm reaching out for the door handle. Looking down over her body, I gasped in shock. Mina had styled her messy hair a little bit, but she was still visually sweaty and sticky from her earlier exertion. However, she was clad in nothing but a towel, her other arm carrying her fresh clothing to change to. My eyes roamed over her body; bare shoulders exposed, the smooth skin still a little flushed, yet so desirable. Her defined collarbones next, then down her bare arms, my eyes darting to her chest and down her torso, to her bare legs. I felt myself grow hard as I stared at the hint of cleavage above her towel, then to her bare legs, swapping between both parts of her body. I looked back up at Mina's face, which was coloured red by a blush. The constellation of moles on her face shone to my eyes, which trailed down each mole before locking on her brown eyes.

She was a work of art. Her parents' masterpiece. Not only was she such a pleasure to be friends with, she was (very) easy on the eyes, and her body was downright fucking sinful. God knows the things I'd do to get to bed her…

"[Y/N]?" Mina's soft voice snapped me out of my daydreams. Slapping a hand over my eye, I exclaimed out my apologies, pulling the door open and letting her in, before running out of the bathroom back to my own room.

----------

[Mina's POV]

I knew I had [Y/N] in the palm of my hand.

I knew what I was doing wearing only a towel. I knew he would go for a shower straight after, hearing the bathroom door close straight after.

He peeped on me. I wasn't angry that he did, after all, this was a bit of a fantasy of mine and it was turning me on so much knowing he watched me fuck myself thinking of his cock in my pussy. However, he peeped on me, and it was only fair for me to use the same body he peeped on to tease him.

I want to push him to his limit. How much of me can he take before he masturbates to me like I did to him?

[Y/N] has a moderately strong moral and ethical code. On a night where we were both drinking, under the influence of the liquid courage, I quizzed him on what he would do if he caught a girl masturbating to him. I'm sure it put a lot of thoughts to his head, but he had a genuine and serious look on his face when he told me he would not take advantage of or touch himself thinking of it. Those were her private times and if he came across it, he would try his best to ignore it as much as possible, though he did admit that if it really happened, he would not be able to resist watching…

Lesser men probably would have taken advantage of the girl in such a vulnerable state.

He was so cute, embarrassed yet trying to give me a proper answer while attempting to subtly check out my body. It was clear who the girl in his mind's eye was.

Oh yes, his feelings. Clear as day. I wanted him to confess first though. I never got the courage to. :(

Well, everyone has their weaknesses. Lord knows if I found him masturbating to me, I'd watch him too...

I giggled as I turned on the shower. He wouldn't know what awaited him. After all, everyone had their dirty desires deep down, and innocent shy homebody Myoui Mina also had her own perverted desires, and that involved teasing and seducing her sexy housemate until he broke, ultimately leading him into her open arms and into her bed.

As I lathered myself in soap and gave myself a good clean scrub, I thought back to earlier, when I caught eyes with [Y/N]. I focused on his bulge sticking out of his zipper and the wet spot of precum at the tip. He was so turned on by me and my body… My clit throbbed and I felt myself get wet again.

'I guess this is round two for me,' I thought, as my fingers reached down to my pussy again.

"Mmmf~"

----------

[Mina's POV - Post Shower]

Ah, what a relaxing shower…

I walked over to the kitchen, hearing the sizzle of a hot pan. I carried on drying my wet hair, walking into the kitchen. "Hey [Y/N], good evening," I greeted with a smile. [Y/N] seemed to jump at my voice, looking anywhere but at me, his skin flushed. "Ah! Err… good evening Mina, dinner's almost ready." I smirked, walking over to him as he turned back to the pan, one hand nervously scratching at his neck.

"Yaaah~, why're you so red? Are you ill?" I grabbed [Y/N]'s hand, pulling him to face me before putting my hand to his forehead. "No, you're fine…" I pouted, whining and shaking to act cute for him, "nnnhhh~, you're not looking at me when I talk to you. What's wrong?" I pinched both his cheeks and pulled him to look straight into my eyes as I puffed my cheeks, pout still in full force.

I thought it was impossible for [Y/N] to get any redder. I was quickly proven wrong as he froze for a short while, before quickly darting out of my grasp to attend to the sizzling pan. I whined again, "Oeiii~ reply me reply me reply me reply meeee~" as I poked his arm rhythmically.

"N-nothing, Mina, I'm okay…" He sounded so shaky. I laughed, poking his cheek and leaving to hang up my towel and get ready for dinner. "Tease ya~"

As I hung up my towel, I internally squealed at how cute he was being flustered. I would have never been brave enough to do this, but circumstances now had clearly changed, and I had power over him… the smile on my face quickly turned devious. I would tease him even more soon…

----------

[Y/N POV]

Mina was killing me. She was out for my blood.

Not only was it bad enough to have the image of her nubile and supple naked body burnt into every corner of my mind and the sound of her orgasm ringing in my ears, she came to the kitchen in another clean oversized tee and shorts. Although this wasn't any different attire at home in the past year, knowing that this was the most comfortable homewear to her, the fact that I knew what she looked like under those layers and how she sounded in her most intimate and vulnerable of times, I could not help but feel a deep lust for her that I had to fight to control. I'd been painfully erect for a while now and I clearly needed to quit thinking about it. To make things even worse, her hair was wet and a little messy still, and a Mina with wet hair and bareface was even worse for my health than a made up Mina was.

I refuse to masturbate to her. She asked me once about what I would do if I caught a girl masturbating while thinking of me. I don't know if she was asking me because of a lack of inhibition due to the alcohol we were drinking, or if it was out of a burning curiosity. She was particularly eager to know my answer though. I told her that I would try my best to ignore it and leave, but… I had to admit I probably would fail and watch…

At that time, I was already deep in crush with her, and my mind instantly wandered to imagining her on her bed fingering herself to me. I could not control myself from checking her body out before answering, and while she adorned a gentle smile as she waited patiently, her eyes twinkled with mirth. Visions of her with a hand between her legs, her grinding her pussy on a bed frame, her arching her back in orgasm, her pussy gushing as she bucks wildly, streams of cum squirting out and forming puddles on the floor… I had to fight these thoughts to answer her quickly before it started getting weird.

I invaded her privacy. It was not right for me to act on the events I had viewed. I knew if she did not know that I had seen what she was doing, I was technically in the clear… and this current notion of not acting on the visuals of her was probably hypocritical, as I had clearly spent many nights in the past year bringing myself to orgasm through imagining her beautiful body...

I did not know what to do with myself.

"Hey [Y/N], good evening."

I felt so embarrassed jumping at the sweet sound of her voice. "Ah! Err… good evening Mina, dinner's almost ready." I couldn't look at her for longer than a second.

"Yaaah~, why're you so red? Are you ill?" She pulled my arm, getting me to face her with her left hand, and raising her right, landing the knuckles of her fingers to my forehead. "No, you're fine…" She began to pout, sending my heart rate up. Stomping her feet, she whined and shook herself, swaying my arm with both her hands on my left wrist. "Nnnhhh~, you're not looking at me when I talk to you. What's wrong?" She pinched both my cheeks, then squished my face in her hands. She locked eyes with me in a mock glare, her cheeks puffed out akin that of a chipmunk or squirrel, and the same pout from earlier still being weaponized against me.

How could I look at her? I was so ashamed that I peeped on her. Furthermore, all I could think of was that the fingers on my forehead were the same fingers that were in her pussy and fucked her to satisfaction, and the same fingers she licked her orgasm off of.

I leaned a bit into her touch, feeling the cold of her hands on my cheeks. The aroma of her buttermilk body wash enveloped my senses, the only sound audible being my heartbeat. I could feel the heat of my face, and I felt so shy and uneasy in her hands. She'd never initiated this type of skinship with me before, and her hands were so smooth, her aroma so intoxicating, and she looked so adorable with puffed cheeks and pout on her face.

"Oeiii~ reply me reply me reply me reply meeee~" She poked me in the arm repeatedly. I felt faint. The pout never left her face and her high-pitched cutesy voice made her so much more lovable...

How could someone so sexy be so adorable?

"N-nothing, Mina, I'm okay…" Fuck, I sounded so unsure of myself.

She giggled, her eyes evidently showing her amusement and mischief. "Tease ya~." She poked my cheek, exiting to the balcony to hang up her towel.

--

Mina wasn't done with me.

Dinner was so awkward together since I had been shocked into silence from today. I couldn't even take glances at Mina without a mix of arousal, shame, and shyness. Every time my eyes met Mina's, she would smirk at me.

"[Y/N], are you okay? You're so shy today, did something happen? Hehehe"

… was that a hint? Did she see me?

No, no, no.

No no no no.

There's no way.

I blushed redder.

"You can tell me anything, you know?" She giggled again, a coy smile curving her lips. "I'll try to help you just as you've… helped me…"

My cock strained against my shorts.

Her tone seemed to hint to me that she knew of my viewing of her, but her smile had become half coy and half genuine. I did not know what to feel.

"Okay, thanks Mina."

Dinner was uneventful after as we both ate our fill.

Everything that had transpired today kept replaying in my mind. I really needed to sleep over today. I rose from my chair, getting ready to clear up and wash the dishes.

"[Y/N]!" I felt Mina come from behind me, her arms wrapping around my torso in a back hug. She embraced me tightly, tiptoeing to reach my ear, whispering to me, "Thank you for dinner today, hehe." She squeezed a little tighter.

I could feel her soft breasts pushing against my back. Her hot breath at my ear gave me a shudder, her lips nearly touching my ear. Her scent once again enveloped my senses, and I leaned back into her touch a bit. "Ah! Y-you're welcome, Mina."

I could hear her smile, and next thing I knew, I could feel her soft lips land near my nape, just above my collarbone. I audibly gasped, another shudder running through my body. I whipped around, stumbling backwards a bit away from Mina, my left hand reaching up to the spot she had just left a kiss on. Her lips were puckered slightly, slowly morphing into a smile. "Good night, [Y/N]." She turned around, skipping from the kitchen back to her room.

She was seducing me and I had to shamefully admit it was working.

I blushed. Her boobs were really soft.

----------

[Mina's POV]

In the safety of my own room, I jumped onto my bed, squealing into my pillow. [Y/N] was so cute!!! I was out to fluster him with just words but I ended up probably turning him on and getting to finally hug and kiss him like how I would in my daydreams.

This man was so turned on during dinner. I did not intend to hug him, but I had a rush of confidence and decided to follow my heart, and I could feel his shudders with my breath on his ear and my kiss on his neck. In my hug, I made sure to squeeze him tight, and I'm sure he felt my chest on his back… I hope he liked that.

I'm so happy he liked what I did today.

--

I woke up the next morning, a large smile on my face. Picking up my phone, I viewed the notifications from last night and the early morning.

Text from [Y/N]: Hey Mina, I'm going to school for a consultation session. Will be back at 12pm.

It was 10am now, and on a Friday. I had no classes on a Friday, and neither did he. Tonight was our gaming night, and… now I had three days to break his resolve.

He was my prey now, and I'm determined to get what I want.

Getting up from my bed, I stretched upwards. I had a really good few days to sleep in, and a few days to try to seduce [Y/N]. What's not to love about the weekend?

Heading to the bathroom, I passed by the wall mirror hung up in the hallway. God, I looked good this morning. I had slept the night prior in a thin T-shirt and boyshorts, forgoing the bra for comfort, of course. Sure, my hair was messy from sleep, but I knew for a fact I looked really good today. Snapping a few pictures with my phone, I smirked to myself. I couldn't help but think, 'It's not every day I feel this good, why not take more pics of my body?' Raising my shirt to reveal my breasts, I bit onto the hem of my shirt as I snapped a pic. I then took off my shirt, snapping more pics of my bare chest, before stripping bare and taking more photos of my nude body. I looked so hot. 'Maybe one day I could send these to [Y/N],' I thought, 'Investment.'

Putting my clothes back on, I proceeded to the kitchen for breakfast

--

"I'm home!"

I rose from my place on the couch, calling out "Okaeri". As [Y/N] walked into the living room, I stretched upwards, smiling in content at the comfort. When I opened my eyes, [Y/N] was furiously blushing once more, and his eyes were locked onto my chest.

Oh right, I'm not wearing a bra.

Well, I didn't plan this… but sure, I'm gonna make use of it.

"Like something you see~?" I swayed my hips a bit as I made my way to him. Pulling my shirt down a bit to show my cleavage, I bent down a little as I looked him straight in the eye with a smile. I could see him short circuiting; his eyes were locked on my boobs, and he might have actually forgotten how to breathe. [Y/N] shook his head, looking away while pulling my shirt up for me. "You can't do this, Mina! A lady shouldn't be doing this!" Such a cutie, flustered and horny at the same time.

"Nnngh~, why not?" I turned up my cuteness, hugging his arm and pulling it right between my breasts. Coy smile in place, I locked eyes with him, seeing him redden. "Mina, you're not usually like this. What's gotten into you?" I smirked, tiptoeing to reach his ear. "Maybe… I want you to watch me," I whispered. [Y/N] recoiled in shock, out of my grasp, but I just winked at him, pushing my hair up with my left hand, sultrily whispering once more, "Only look at me."

[Y/N]'s eyes were still switching between my face and breasts, and I was sure he could see my nipples tenting the T-shirt. His eyes travelled down to my boyshort panties and smooth milky legs, then to my thigh gap. I was starting to get horny from the pure lust displayed in his eyes as he checked out my body.

I was riling him up as much as he was riling me up, and I loved playing with him like this. Sure, maybe I might be acting very slutty right now, but I know that he wouldn't give in to me so easily, and I want to break his resolve before I take him. I want him to want me as much as I wanted him yesterday, and I want to see him cum for me while moaning my name as he jerks himself off.

I would have never done this if I did not know how much he enjoyed watching me fuck myself to him, but with how turned on he was and how he feels about me, both romantically and morally, I think I'm not going to care too much about image…

"My eyes are up here, [Y/N]," I drawled, "Unless you want me to show you more~" As I prepared to strip myself of my shirt, he grabbed my hands and pulled my shirt down. "NO! Nonono, Mina, that's fine, that's fine."

So red. So flustered. So cute. So… vulnerable.

I giggled. "Come on, let's get lunch! What do you wanna order?"

--

I could feel [Y/N]'s eyes roam over my body throughout the afternoon. I made sure to sway my hips a bit more when I walked, stretch more to show my chest, and show more of my legs to him. God, his lustful eyes when he thought I wasn't looking… I could feel myself getting bolder as he watched me.

Maybe I've got an exhibitionist kink… but only for him.

I want him to look at me more…

I snuggled up next to him, feeling him stiffen. He shifted in his seat, unsubtly arranging the pillow covering his lap. "Hehe, you're so stiff… is there something wrong?" He averted his eyes from me, a restless drumming of his fingers tapping a rhythm into the pillow. "No, Mina, nothing's wrong…" He trailed off, as if uncertain of his own answer. Then, in a move of confidence, I straddled him, kneeling over the pillow on his lap. "Then why won't you look at me?" I pouted, resting my hands on his shoulders. He turned to me, before snapping his head to the left again. "Mina! What-?! No, no, stop!" Grabbing his face with my hands, I turned his head to face my eyes. "You can look, I don't mind~"

[Y/N] seemed to have overheated. I giggled, getting off him. "I'm gonna go shower, enjoy yourself!"

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina was making it really hard for me not to jerk off to her.

She probably knows I saw her.

"Maybe… I want you to watch me"

"You can look, I don't mind~"

Coming home to an essentially almost naked Mina was a very… welcome surprise. A braless Mina only in a tee and panties was a dream I'd had for ages. Furthermore, she made sure to get her body in contact with mine, and give me the most amount of time to check her sexy body out.

God, her nipples tenting her shirt and that fucking thigh gap… I just wanted to rip her clothing off and fuck her pussy until she squirted all over the floor and I filled her hole with my cum.

I couldn't stop looking at her nipples, her legs, and that juicy ass in her boyshorts. She was quickly eroding my self control, and I really needed to rub one out soon… To make things even worse, she straddled me, giving me an eyeful of her body and the vision of what it would be like if she rode me. My resolve was quickly eroding, and it hadn't even been 24 hours since I watched her.

Mina's deep "You can look, I don't mind~" rang in my mind once more. I shook my head at the intrusive thought. I really wanted to keep looking, but I didn't feel like it was right to do so. This wasn't the usual Mina I was living with, it felt like this was Sharon Myoui instead, the more confident and sexy version.

Myoui Mina and Sharon Myoui were two sides of the same coin. Mina was the soft spoken homebody that giggled at the ending of spoken sentences, the girl that fluttered her legs when she was elated, waddled like a penguin when she walked, would gush and coo at how cute penguins and dogs were while "vibrating" by jumping and alternating between both left and right feet, and whose eyes would turn into crescents when she smiled her gorgeous gummy smile. This Mina was dorky and usually would be in the background doing something hilarious and cute.

Sharon, however, was the side of Mina when she got serious, when she was determined to obtain something she wanted. Sharon was basically the 'leader' part of Mina, when she took charge and made things happen. This side of Mina appeared if she was put in a leadership role, and she led with efficiency and high standards. This Mina was blunt and determined with endless fire and desire to succeed, and… this was the hottest Mina. She intimidated and aroused me a lot with this facet of her personality, and I… I would bottom for her if she came for me like that. This Mina knew what she wanted, and she knew she would get exactly what she wished for and how to obtain that success.

Now that she had locked the Sharon Myoui facet of her personality to me, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would give in. She'd given me a smug smirk as she left for her shower, and I basically just wet even more of my ruined briefs.

I refuse to jerk off to her.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mina calling my name, waving a hand in front of my eyes while bent to keep eye contact with me.

Oh fuck, she did this on purpose… a hoodie and boyshorts only? And the hoodie is unzipped enough to show a lot of her cleavage? Is she trying to flash me?

Mina smiled her crescent eye smile, no gums this time. "Ah, there we go. You were quite distracted. What were you thinking about?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she smirked, seemingly knowing that her giving me and eyeful of her cleavage was causing me to overheat once more. "I'm gonna cook dinner, what do you want?" Mina asked, tilting her head to the right. Before I could give her an actual answer, my mouth moved quicker than my brain could filter. "You."

Oh fuck. Fuck. What did I just say?

Mina's usually soft brown eyes were now hardened with lust and desire. She straightened up, once again kneeling on the couch and straddling me, a leg on either side of my thigh. I gripped the cushion on my lap hard, a rush of arousal shooting straight to my hard cock. Fuck, it hurts… straining against my pants for so long did not feel good at all. She had the hood of her hoodie up when she first greeted me, and now that she was on top of me, she had raised her left hand to push the hood off her as she flicked her hair back. She bit her bottom lip and sank onto the cushion as I quickly retracted my arms to avoid touching her. Her weight fully rested on the cushion as her arms snaked around my neck and she shifted to keep level eye contact with me.

"Oh," she breathed, "are you sure?" Her intense gaze seemed to pierce into my very soul. She bit her bottom lip, grinding down on the cushion in a slow circle, her actions causing the cushion to rub on my cock pleasurably. A whimper escaped my lips at her burning gaze, her lust and animalistic desire to consume her prey evident, and the pleasure from her essentially grinding directly on my cock. One hand of hers slid down to the zipper of her hoodie, then she slipped the zipper down enough to show the valley between her breasts and the lack of a bra.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!" I pushed Mina off me onto the couch, as I rotated and leapt off. I caught a glimpse of Mina's confused face turning into disappointment as I sprinted into my room and shut the door, sinking to the ground in embarrassment. Oh wait… I left Mina there. In disappointment. 'I have to fix that immediately', I thought, as I opened the door to my room.

"Mina I do want you, you're fucking hot as hell but not like this, I'm so sorry!"

Fuck, what was I saying?

Slamming the door shut, I winced, then rushed to fill the silence of my room with music.

'Ding!'

I looked at my mobile phone. Myoui Mina has sent you a message.

I opened the private chat we had, and threw my phone away in shock.

Mina had sent a picture of herself wearing the same hoodie, and only the hoodie. She sat on the couch, spreading her legs open to show her glistening pussy. Her hoodie was spread open to show her breasts and pert nipples.

Myoui Mina: This could have been yours if you'd just let me fuck you.

'Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!'

I had to look. A whole set of pictures.

The next picture consisted of Mina in the same position, but her free hand spread her pussy lips wide open for the camera.

Myoui Mina: Look at how wet I was for you.

Another picture - Mina now sent a picture of her fingers, wet strands of fluid stuck between said fingers.

A video now.

"Aaaaah~" Mina, in the video, was fucking herself furiously with her fingers on the couch. "Fuck~ [Y/N]~ you feel so fucking good~ fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna- [Y/N]~"

Mina's scream of pleasure was accompanied by the gushing of fluids from her pussy. Her free hand rubbed her clit hard, prolonging her orgasm. Squirt after squirt of her juices shot out of her orgasming pussy, the sound of the liquid splashing all over the floor.

A final voice note.

"I could've squirted all over your cock, [Y/N]. It's a shame I had to fuck myself to an orgasm… I wish you'd been the one to fuck me to an orgasm before filling my slutty pussy with your cum. Think about that, [Y/N]. You could've made me cum screaming your name just like I did in the video…"

--

I could not sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Mina grinding on the cushion on my lap, Mina biting her lips, Mina staring at me with pure lust and desire, Mina's pink pussy, shining with arousal, Mina fucking herself on her fingers, Mina squirting all over the living room screaming my name.

How was I going to sleep now?

--

Mina's soft voice. "Oh, are you sure?"

Mina was grinding on my lap again, as she unzipped her hoodie to show me her breasts. "Look at me, babe." She pulled the hoodie off her shoulders, letting it slip off and pool around her forearms and waist, exposing her beautiful breasts for my viewing pleasure. She grabbed my hand, placing it on her left breast. "Touch me."

I fondled her breast, kneading and squeezing it as moans of pleasure left her lips. Mina then brought a hand to the back of my head, pulling me into a torrid kiss. When we broke for air, I bent down to suckle on her right nipple while I pinched and pulled at her left, causing her to grind down harder, which led me to groan at the increased sensations down below. Mina bent backwards, allowing me easier access to her breasts, as she stroked my head, whispering, "Good boy, that feels so good~ mmmh~"

"Stop." I looked up at her in confusion, as she got off my lap. Slipping both thumbs under the waistband of her boyshorts, she pushed them off. Strings of her arousal clung to her pussy and her boyshorts. As she let her underwear drop, she also pulled off the hoodie around her forearms, dropping it on the floor, leaving her naked in front of me.

She straddled me once more, pulling the cushion on my lap away. "Look at how wet you've made me, baby." Her voice was deeper than usual, her lust and desire evident in the breathy tone of her voice as her fingers spread her glistening pussy open in front of my eyes, while she leaned back, placing an arm behind her to support herself. Her fingers moved up to circle her clit, as she smiled slyly. "I wish you'd said yes, [Y/N]." Her fingers moved to rub her clit directly. "You could've stripped me. You could've taken me to bed. You could've fucked me and made me a slut for your cock."

She pushed two fingers into herself, hilting them at her knuckles. "Mmmf~ fuck," She withdrew her fingers, then thrusted back in, repeating the motion. "This… this could've been your cock, [Y/N]." Every alternate word was broken up by a moan as she pushed her fingers into herself. "Instead of… ahhh~ fucking myself- mmmf~ I… I could be- hnng~ cumming on your cock, aaah~"

Mina threw her head back, a guttural moan erupting from deep within her. Her fingers appeared to curl within her, stimulating her G-spot. "Fuck," the curse word was drawn out in a hiss, "fuck, fuck, fuck, that feels so good, fuck~"

My gaze travelled over her body. My hands moved to try to touch her, but Mina was quick to grab me. "Ah, ah, no touching from now on." She snapped her fingers with the hand that she was using to support herself, leaning forward to stare deep into my eyes. Her smile was coy, but her eyes were menacing, as if daring me to disobey. As I tried to move my hands, I found them bound behind me with zip ties to the bed frame. Wait… bed frame??

How did I get to her room?

Mina tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Only look at me, darling. I want you to watch." She had withdrawn her fingers from her pussy; they were dripping with her juices. She lifted them to her own mouth, opening wide and sucking on her own fingers. I could see her tongue move, swirling around her digits, cleaning her fingers of her own pussy juices before she released them with an audible 'pop'.

My cock strained hard against my track pants. The bulge of my cock was painful, my precum staining through my underwear and forming a wet spot at the tip of the bulge. I squirmed under her, resisting against the ties. Mina looked down at my bulge, a big smile on her face. "I'm feeling generous today, darling. Because you've been so good today, you get to cum." She snapped her fingers once more, and I was now naked, lying on the bed with my arms around my head, still tied at the wrists to the bed. In the back of my mind, I questioned how she was able to manipulate reality to her will like that, but that thought was shelved when she sank down, pushing my cock against my stomach. Her pussy lips wrapped around the underside of my cock, and she began to rub up and down the length.

Mina smirked, her eyes glazed over, drunk in power. "Mmmf~ so hard for me, darling? Were you… aaah~... this hard when you… nngh~... watched me cum?" She ground down hard, reaching behind her to cup and play with my balls. Every few words of hers were broken up with gasps of pleasure. "Did me cumming while moaning your name feel good? Does it feel good knowing you're the reason I fuck myself? That this pussy cums for you?" Her thrusts on my cock were beginning to speed up.

"Mina-"

Mina glared at me, stopping her grinding on my cock. I squirmed, attempting to grind on her for my own pleasure. She raised herself up, just out of my reach. "Shut the fuck up. You're my slut now. My toy. My personal stress relief. You listen to me, and me only. Speak only if I tell you to. Speak up again and I will leave." She then leaned in, her eyes looking at my lips, then to my eyes. Her left hand caressed my cheek, before her thumb ran over my lips. "Be a good boy, and I'll let you cum…" She then snapped her fingers again, and I no longer could speak, just moan in pleasure for her ears.

Mina lowered herself once more, grinding down hard. Her pussy was leaking copious amounts of her juices, making a mess of both our crotches. Slick sounds echoed around the room, her wetness evident both visually and audibly. "Darling, are you gonna cum for me just like I came for you? Are you going to paint yourself white for me?" She grinded down forcefully, her pants turning to whines and whimpers, before turning to actual moans, of which each was interrupting her speech. "Cum for me, toy. Cum for me like I'm going to cum for you. Show me the load you'd put in my pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna… fuck! I'm gonna-"

Mina's hips bucked up, her pussy gushing. The visuals of the first stream of her squirt prompted me to cum myself, my spurts violent. I could only feel the pleasure of my own orgasm; nothing else in the world mattered when everything was whited out. Dimly, I noted Mina's streams landing all over my body, drenching me all over, as well as the bed sheets. When I opened my eyes, I was covered in a messy mix of semen, sweat, and Mina's juices.

Mina's next words were "Wake up."

--

"Blurrgh!" I sat up awake in shock. What the fuck was that dream? Panting heavily, I leaned backwards, attempting to calm down my pounding heart. What the fuck just happened? Wiping my sweat on my brow, I stared at the ceiling in a daze.

As I shifted to kick the blankets away in order to dissipate the heat from my body, I could feel an uncomfortable stickiness all over my body… and even more at my crotch. Sure, I was sweating profusely and very warm from the dream, which explained the stickiness on my body… but on my crotch…

Oh. I'd ejaculated in my pants.

The large wet spot on the front of my shorts was evident enough that my cum had soaked through my underwear.

Fuck.

----------

[Mina's POV]

Yesterday evening, I sent [Y/N] his first nudes of me. Me fucking myself to a fantasy of him and then squirting all over his living room. If only he'd just given in and fucked me; its not like he didn't want my pussy. I would have squirted on his cock.

Fuck it. I'm gonna break him now.

If he'd just given in, I'd not only submit to him, I'd have been his slut to fuck. Now that he'd resisted me, I really want to break him and make him my slut.

Shy [Y/N], so cute and flustered under me.

Fanning my dirty thoughts away, I prepared to shower and take my leave to the dance studio for practice.

--

"Thanks for today guys! I'll stay back for a bit more practice!"

I waved bye to my fellow classmates, before returning to the studio. While I did intend to practice more, I also really wanted to send [Y/N] something naughty. Locking the door, I giggled to myself.

I was wearing just a sports bra and yoga pants. I snapped a pic of myself, posing with a peace sign for the camera, before sending it to [Y/N].

'I am coming back a bit later, I'm working on something right now.'

Little would he know, I was working on taking my bra off my body. I was now topless in the studio.

'How do you like my body?'

I then decided to work my leggings and panties down my legs, stripping until I was nude. Fuck, I felt so naughty being nude in the dance studio. Kneeling on the ground, I began to snap a few pictures of myself.

'Did you have fun watching me cum?'

I then took a video of myself, running the lens from my face to my breasts, then down to my pussy.

'Maybe next time, all this would be for you.'

Smirking naughtily, I put on some music, set my camera to film, before proceeding to dance in the nude.

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina sent me more nudes.

She was testing my patience, and I wasn't the most patient person in the world when it came to her.

The video of her performing Taemin's Move nude was even worse - those hips, that stare, her thighs, her plump ass, the jiggling of her breasts each time she moved, and… oh my god, when she swung her right leg in a circle and flashed her pussy for the world to see… She was testing me and I was very close to failing.

As I watched the video with my earbuds plugged in, Mina popped her head into my room, waving cheerfully. "Konnichiwa, [Y/N]! Why're you so red?" I was ashamed to say I fumbled and dropped the phone in my hands.

Mina giggled, hiding her beautiful gummy smile with her hand. "Hehehe, watching something… naughty? Something personal?" She smirked cheekily, before announcing, "I've got something on soon, I'll be having lunch outside~ See you!"

I groaned after she left, proceeding for a freezing shower to get rid of my dirty thoughts.

Mina's body is divine.

--

I hummed a tune as the bacon sizzled in the pan. Breakfast for lunch seemed like a pretty good idea, and I couldn't resist bacon.

As I plated my bacon and eggs...

'Ding!'

Hmm, what was this?

Oh, fuck. Mina was sending me pictures again. This time, she was thankfully clothed, but what she wore was just as hot as if she had sent me pictures of her nude body. Her ginger hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she had on a beautiful suit. She appeared to be in the bathroom, seeing that a sink could be seen in the mirror she was using as a photography tool.

Holy fuck.

Mina knew of my weakness for suits. I'd told her before that anyone that wore a suit was hot in my eyes because of how put together they looked. I'd admitted that people in a suit, especially ladies, sometimes made me intimidated and flustered.

A voice note this time. "Hi [Y/N] baby, don't you like how I dressed for you?"

Another picture came in. Mina now had her tie loosened, and her hand was pushing her hair back. The next picture had Mina with two of the buttons on her dress shirt unbuttoned, showing her cleavage, with her tie pushed aside. She had untied her hair, letting it frame her beautiful face.

"[Y/N]-ah, I'm stripping for you now… I know you like it~" A giggle. "Hehe, enjoy~"

Another picture. Mina's dress shirt was now fully unbuttoned, a lace bra cupping her perky breasts, her tie nowhere to be seen.

Even more pictures. Mina with her shirt unbuttoned, now without a bra, showing the valley between her breasts. Mina with the blazer around her biceps, off her shoulders. Mina without a blazer. Mina with the dress shirt now off her shoulders, around her arms, still covering her breasts but exposing the smooth, milky skin of her bare shoulders, and her defined collarbones.

'Ding!' Mina sent another picture, this time of her with the camera held up behind her untied hair, her bare back facing the camera, with her free hand held up in a peace sign.

With each picture, my dick grew harder and harder. She sent her killing blow next.

[ Myoui Mina is initiating a video call… ]

"Hey, [Y/N]~"

Mina was still in a state of undress, the camera held at face level, just enough to catch her bare shoulders and hints of her cleavage. The mirror behind her captured the beauty of her bare back.

"What the fuck, Mina? What're you doing?"

"Oh, darling~ you don't have to be so shocked, it's not like you haven't seen me before." She laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You had so much fun watching me finger myself to you. If I'd known you were watching, I'd have called you in so you could pound my pussy until you filled me with cum and my pussy milked all the cum from your balls."

The absolute filth spilled from Myoui Mina's lips was something I'd never have expected to hear in my lifetime. These few days showed that Mina was more than just my elegant, respectful, beautiful, and considerate housemate; she was also a woman with her sexual desires, wants, and needs, and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. In this case, she wanted me, and this was her way of doing so, through usage of her supple body and knowledge of my thinking processes and what ticked my checkboxes.

"I still have presents for you, baby. Guess what I'm doing right now?"

"Mina, I… Mina, what?"

"Yaaah~ you're not answering my question~ I'm doing something just for you, baby. Only for you." She winked, giving me a long gummy smile. "I'll let you see, chotto matte yo~~"

The screen shifted, now showing the white ceiling of the bathroom she was in. I heard the sounds of her belt unbuckling, and a short zip sound, before the camera was picked up again.

"Hihi, baby!" She panned the camera down, showing me her magnificent body… Oh. Oh. Her hand was in her pants, seemingly rubbing circles around her clit.

"Fuck~ that feels so good, mmmf~... Baby, I'm touching myself for you again~ This time… let Mommy show you what she does to her pussy when she thinks of you."

A whimper escaped my lips uncontrolled.

"Did Mommy's words turn you on, baby? Are you hard and twitching for me? Whip it out for me, baby. Flip the view. Show Mommy how much you like what you're seeing." Her deep and sultry tone, punctured with the occasional gasp and moan of pleasure, sent streaks of arousal straight down to my twitching dick, now leaking lots of precum. I swapped the view of my camera, pulling my pants down to set my cock free of its confinements within my shorts.

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking big… and so wet for Mommy. Jerk yourself for Mommy as Mommy strips for you." Mina propped the camera against the wall, turning around and pulling her trousers down with her panties. She bent over, flashing her ass and her drenched pussy to the camera as I jerked myself looking at her stripping. Mina turned around, placing her clothing out of the frame, standing in the bathroom naked.

"I'm glad no one ever comes here. Mommy can be loud and make a mess, and no one will know but you and me." Her lust-filled tone was turning me on more and more. Mina put her right hand down to her pussy, and her wrist curled up and she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, closing one eye. "Mmmf~, look baby," she put her hands closer to the camera, showing me the strands of her juices coating her fingers, "look at how wet Mommy is showing you what a slut she is. Mommy's a slut for your cock, baby. She wants your cock to fuck her pussy hard, to pound it until it cums and squirts all over you. Mommy wants you to fuck her until you fill her with cum and it leaks down her legs and thighs." She withdrew her hands from the camera, moving them back to her pussy as she picked up the camera and walked to an empty stall with a seating toilet, the cover already down. Sitting down on the toilet, Mina spread her legs, her fingers already penetrating her pussy and curling for her G-spot.

A sigh of pleasure released from Mina's open mouth as she leaned her head back. "Mommy's thinking… ah~... about your cock, baby…" Every few words she spoke were broken up with moans, sighs, hisses, or pants of pleasure. "I wish it was your cock in my pussy right now, baby. I wish you were kneeling and fucking into Mommy's slutty pussy as I spread for you. Don't you like that, baby? Don't you want Mommy's pussy around your cock?"

"Yes, Mina-"

Mina halted her actions. "What was that, baby?"

"I'm sorry, Mommy- fuck!" I jerked myself quicker, feeling myself edging slowly towards my orgasm at how Mina… no, Mommy had, so easily, made me submit to her.

Mina smiled. "What a filthy mouth. Mommy will let it slide this time, baby. Jerk yourself slow and good. I want you to come with Mommy. Not before, not after. Can you do that for Mommy, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy." I slowed my strokes down, disciplining myself to resist cumming first. Precum leaked out of the tip of my cock, lubricating the head. Whatever excess precum dripped to the ground.

Mina's bright smile on her face did not fit what filthy actions she was doing to herself, but that made it so much hotter. "Good job, baby. You're such a good boy. I promise you will enjoy your orgasm later. Hold on for me, okay?" She began to thrust faster and faster, moaning out loud each time her fingers curled over her G-spot. Her palm rubbed her clit with each thrust, slowly pushing her closer and closer to the edge of her release. "How does it feel, baby, to be watching me touch myself for you? Mommy's so wet and so horny watching you jerk yourself for her. Mommy's so happy you're dripping; it shows how happy you are to watch Mommy. Good job baby, I'm close, so close, fuck~"

"Mommy, fuck, I'm so close, so fucking close!"

Mina's sultry voice, broken with pants and moans, echoed from my speakers, "Yes, baby, cum for Mommy, cum with Mommy, fuck, I'm gonna, fuck-!"

"Fuck, Mommy, I'm coming!"

Mina's camera angle had switched to one from her point of view. The camera was now showing the door of the stall she was in, and her fingers furiously thrusting to bring herself to orgasm. Before she could finish her sentence, a long stream of fluid squirted from her pussy, her hand rushing to furiously rub her clit left and right, her squirt spraying all over the stall walls, floor, and door. She moaned gutturally as each stream exited, violent and strong. I could see her toes curling as she achieved her release.

The moment Mina squirted her first stream, semen shot out of the tip of my dick all over the floor. I bucked my hips into my hand, fucking my own hand to prolong my orgasm, as more spurts of cum shot out and created a puddle on the floor. As I collapsed to the floor, Mina's exhausted voice flowed to my ears, "Fuck baby, you came so much for Mommy… Good job, baby, Mommy came so much for you too." Mina's smile could be heard through the speakers. "You did so well for me… Mommy's proud of you. Now go clean up, Mommy will be back for dinner."

"Yes Mommy, thank you Mommy."

Mina giggled, the camera flipping to see Mina gazing at her drenched hand, covered in a coating of her squirt. Mina gave her hand multiple licks from top to bottom, as if she was sucking on a cock, all while her eyes never left the camera. I licked my dry lips, watching Mina clean herself.

"Maybe next time, it'll be your cock I'm licking."

[ Myoui Mina has ended the call. ]

My food was long cold by then.

----------

[Mina's POV]

As I rested on the toilet seat, recovering from my mindblowing orgasm, I smiled thinking of [Y/N]'s moans and submission to me. Making him call me Mommy turned me on so much that I'd squirted the most I had ever in my life; the stall I was in was covered in my juices. My squirt was flowing down the walls, the door, and dripping onto the ground, forming large puddles, as if someone had just showered.

Watching his cock spurt out so much semen was such a turn on, as well as knowing he'd just fucked himself for me. What an obedient little pet, so turned on and so wet just for me just by listening to my instructions. A good pet deserves a reward…

As I cleaned myself up, as well as the stall, and got dressed, I thought about how to seduce him one last time into my bed. I'm going to milk my pet for all he's worth.

I'm going to fuck him until I'm satisfied. I have waited long enough.

His reward will be my body.

--

"[Y/N], tadaima!"

I unlocked the front door to our shared apartment, dressed in the suit I'd used in our sex session over video. The aroma of fried rice wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by a "Shit!" and the sound of something dropping. Running to the kitchen, I was met with a red-faced [Y/N], picking up two spoons and forks from the ground. "Okaeri, Mo- Mina-ya." I smiled at his little slip of the tongue.

I walked over to him as he went to wash up the dropped utensils. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I leaned into his back, giving him a hug. "Thank you for cooking, [Y/N]." His body was so tense under my touch. He smelled really nice…

"Y-You're wel- welcome, Mina." His nerves were evident in his shaky and unsure voice. Turning him around as he dried his hands, I now embraced him from the front, burying my face into the crook of his neck. I felt [Y/N] finally wrap his arms around me, sinking into me just like I was sinking into his embrace.

"[Y/N]-ah, thank you for today too." I smiled at his sound of confusion, before I caressed his cheek with my hand. "Today's video call. I've never been so turned on in my life, and I've never cummed this hard before. And I did it with you. Thank you." With each word, [Y/N] got redder and redder, and he seemed to tense up, leaning away from me slightly, specifically his crotch. It was pretty clear why, but I did not want to embarrass him at this point. "Hey, don't get shy on me now," I said, flashing my gummy smile, "you've literally seen my naked body more than I've seen yours, from when you peeped on me to earlier today. I should be the mortified one here." Apologies spilled from [Y/N]'s mouth, but I silenced him with a finger on his lips. "It's okay, baby, I don't mind now, and I didn't mind then. However, I really have something I want off my chest now."

I took a deep breath in, then released it.

"Before I proceed with any of my other plans tonight, I kind of want to address the situation you caught me in on Thursday." I bit my lip, fiddling with my fingers. "Yes, I was fantasizing about you, and… I'm kind of ashamed you had to see that. I did not want to have you realise I think of you like that in that manner." Raising my hands to wrap around the back of [Y/N]'s neck, I stared into his eyes. "I like you, and I think you're hot."

[Y/N]'s eyes widened, before he pulled me into another hug, this one tighter than the rest. "Mina, thank you." His smile could be heard in his voice. "I like you too." As he withdrew, his hands trailed down my forearms to my hands, firmly clasping them in his. "I have something to say too. I'm sorry I peeped on you. I know you said you were cool, but I should have done better and not watched you. That was your private time and I should be respecting it, but I watched instead with perverted desires. This has been eating away at me, and I feel so sorry- mmph!"

I crashed my lips into his, yanking the collar of his tee to get him low enough to be able to take my kiss. I felt him lean into the kiss, reciprocating with as much desire for this as I had. As I pulled him closer, our kiss deepened, and my hands wrapped around his head while his arms wrapped around my waist.

We broke our kiss for air. I smiled, panting hard. "You were rambling, babe. It's okay, I'm fine with it. Let's have dinner before the food gets cold." I took [Y/N]'s hand, leading him to the table, draping my blazer over my chair, before proceeding to eat.

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. [Y/N] couldn't hide his happiness as he seemed to have a dazed smile on at all times, and I was just watching him be his happiest. This was the cutest I'd ever seen him, and for the past year, I had seen so many moments of him being cute - when he was sleepy, when he was focusing on his work, when he was enthusing about his day or his interests, and that one time he cuddled me at my request. This was now the cutest I'd ever seen him and I was content just to watch him bask in his happiness.

I still want to bed him though.

--

As we walked back to our rooms after dinner, I stopped [Y/N] at my room. "[Y/N]-ah, wait." When he turned to face me, a smile on his face, I beckoned him with a wave. Tiptoeing to his ear, I whispered, "Shower with me." The look of disbelief on his face made me laugh. "I mean it, [Y/N], shower with me. I'll wait for you~"

Oh, the plans I have for him, and all of it ends with us sleeping together tonight.

Grabbing my towel from my room after untying my tie, I made my way to [Y/N]'s room. As I strided in, I grabbed [Y/N]'s hand, pulling him from his room. "Mina! I haven't picked my clothes yet! Mina!" I smiled at him as I carried on pulling him towards the bathroom. "You won't need those later, darling." Pulling him into the bathroom, I locked the door, then turned and pinned him against the wall, releasing the control I had on my lust for him.

"Mina?! Wha-?!" I forcefully pulled him in for a kiss, before releasing him and smirking. I rubbed his crotch over his shorts, pulling him for another forceful kiss, but this one softer and slower. His hands were also slowly roaming my body, first around my waist, then slowly moving downwards to knead my ass. Fuck, that felt so good…

I broke our second kiss. "Why don't you strip for me, baby?" I smiled, leaning back on the sink. I could see the arousal and fear rise in [Y/N]'s eyes, and as he set his towel down on the rack. I set mine down as well, before turning to him. "No, really. We're showering. Of course we're stripping. I'll strip too."

[Y/N] slowly pulled off his shirt, revealing inch by inch of his solid core muscles, his pectorals, his biceps, triceps… oh my God, he was so fucking hot. I couldn't help but just stare at the new amount of skin in my line of sight, forgetting to take off my clothing too. When he pushed his shorts and briefs down, I watched his hard cock spring out, and a rush of wetness flowed down my pussy. As he looked up at me, he rushed to cover his hard cock, sticking out in front of him. I laughed, before grabbing both his wrists and pulling his hands away. "It's okay [Y/N], it's natural. I'm wet for you too." He groaned, his dick twitching once. "Mina~," he whined, "don't say that! It's embarrassing…" Smiling, I moved closer to him and tiptoed to give him a peck on his lips. "You're so cute, [Y/N]. And… you're so big…" He groaned again, and I kissed him once more. "Fine, fine. I'm gonna strip now."

I could see his eyes darting to me and looking away as I unbuttoned my dress shirt. I'd already untied my tie in my room. He was very embarrassed and quite aroused as he looked at me undressing; the precum was starting to form at the slit on the tip of his red, angry, hard cock. How would that cock feel in my pussy? That thought made a rush of heat fill my loins. I pulled my shirt off, hands moving to unclip my bra, when I heard [Y/N] go, "Wait." He walked over, putting two hands on my arms, and turning me around. "It's awkward standing there… let me." His hands moved up to the clip of the bra. "Can I?"

Oh, he… that was so lovable of him. Beaming at him, I nodded yes. I felt his hands reach the clip, unclipping both ends of the bra. He aided me in removing it from my arms, and I took it off, turning around to show him my bare breasts. He gasped, eyes wide, staring at them, before closing his open mouth, unable to tear his eyes away. I giggled, tilting his chin up. "My eyes are up here, dummy, hehe."

"You're beautiful, Mina. Oh my God." The compliment took me off guard, my hands rushing to cover my face as I whined. "I'm shy~! Don't say that!" He laughed, pulling on my hands, then planting his lips on my forehead. Putting my hands down to the buckle of my belt, I undid my belt, then bent down, sliding both my pants and panties off me. I noticed a wet spot on my panties, and after I pulled the last of my clothing off and stood back upright, I could see [Y/N]'s red face, his eyes roaming my naked body, and his dick twitched once more, making my pussy wetter. "Let's shower, babe," I said, "if we wait any longer I might not be able to hold back." Pulling him into the shower, I turned on the water.

----------

[Y/N's POV - Post Shower]

The shower with Mina was uneventful. We were both kind of self conscious, but we got through the shower, albeit with a few lustful stares at each other, and smirks exchanged each time we caught each other. I could not believe my awfully sexy housemate was naked and showering somewhat comfortably with me. With that said, I was aroused almost all the time, watching a Mina with wet hair and droplets of water drawing streaks down the curves of her chest or the valley in the middle of her breasts, running down her toned core, her creamy thighs, her developed calves, and the worst of all - I'd watch some of the droplets run, and they'd reach her pussy… I had to tear my eyes away. I'd caught her staring at my own fit body too. Her hungry eyes ran over my arms, my chest, my core, down my legs, and every once in a while, right at my hard cock. We'd laugh each time we caught the other, but the sexual tension in the bathroom was so thick. It was clear what we would do post-shower, but I was hoping for something soft and slow, which I'd wanted with her for so long.

As I dried my hair off, I looked at Mina towelling herself off, her hair still wet. Reaching over with my own towel, I wrapped the towel around her head, drying her hair for her. She looked up at me in surprise, and all I could do was smile at how adorable she was. It was funny how a naked woman in front of me was the most adorable creature in the world at the moment, and not the sexiest. After we were dry, Mina smirked, and dragged me by the hand, leading us through the house naked. After hurriedly putting our towels out to dry, she dragged me to her room, giggling to herself as she pushed me onto her bed.

I leaned against the headrest of the bed, my eyes widening at how quick Mina was - she was now crawling towards me seductively, her lust and desire evident in her half-lidded eyes. Mina bit her bottom lips, her plump ass high in the air, her perky breasts swaying left and right as she crawled. My half-erect cock slowly hardened and grew, which Mina took notice of, and giggled. As she got closer, she rose up to straddle me, kneeling above my hard shaft. Lowering herself to meet me eye to eye, she wrapped her arms around my neck, putting her lips close to mine.

"Hi, baby." She smiled, my favourite gummy smile, with her eyes becoming slits. "Hey, Mina," I breathed, mesmerised by the juxtaposition of Mina's adorable smile in front of my face and the awfully sinful body she possessed, exposed to all of my sight. My eyes locked on to her thighs, the thick creamy expanse of skin just begging to be touched and caressed, and then to her breasts, which I'd always dreamed of fondling. Mina watched me check her body out for the umpteenth time, before tilting my chin up to meet her gaze. "Kiss me."

Our lips drew closer, feeling each other's hot breath on the other's lips. When our lips met, Mina seemed to push into me, her hands cradling the back of my head and neck while I loosely wrapped my hands around her shoulders. We exchanged multiple kisses, each of them short pecks, as our hands began to wander. Mina brought one of her hands down to my shoulders, then to my biceps, giving them a squeeze. Her other hand moved down onto my other shoulder, and she broke our latest kiss, staring lovingly into my eyes. "Mommy wants it slow with you, darling. Can you be good for me tonight?"

A whimper broke free from my throat as I nodded in submission, my cock twitching once. Mina being my Mommy was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard in my life, and knowing that I'd be her good boy turned me on so much.

Mina's smile graced her features once more, softening my heart once again. "You've been my good boy these few days, taking all my teasing so well. Tonight, Mommy will reward you with her body." She leaned in to touch her forehead with mine, another giggle reaching my ears. "Enjoy your reward baby." Giving me a final peck, she reached for my cock, giving it a tight squeeze, before gripping it and stroking up and down, her eyes once again lustful. "Does my hand feel good, baby? How does it feel?"

I had moaned at her first touch. Finally, there was some reprieve from the pent-up sexual frustration and tension between us for the past few days. Now, she was finally relieving me of some of the pressure I was feeling because of her. Her dainty fingers wrapped around my shaft, stroking it up and down, sending sparks of pleasure up and down my groin. Even when she was masturbating me, she looked elegant, as if she wasn't indulging herself in sexual activity with her housemate, but instead, playing a musical instrument. As she stroked, she met eyes with me, expecting my answer. "F-fuck, Mommy, your hand feels so good, oh my gosh!" Mina stroked faster, her eyes gleaming with mischief, as she began to talk dirty to me.

"Mommy's been wanting your cock for a long time, baby. Each time I see you shirtless, I've always wanted to jump you and fuck myself senseless on your cock. Sometimes, I want to be under you as you make me your slut, your cum dumpster, and just a hole for you to fuck. Don't you like that, baby? Hearing me beg for your cum, fucking my tight body as and when you like, in any position you want?" Her hand sped up, her words conjuring mental images that took me closer and closer to my release. "Or maybe my mouth. You could be plowing my mouth, dumping your load down my throat. Maybe even my lubed ass, you could be fucking my ass until I squirt all over the bed and my thighs. Do you want Mommy to be your slut, baby? Mommy could just be three holes for you to cum in, baby. Mommy can be your cumslut, your personal toy to cum in, or cum on. How about that, baby?"

The filth from Mina's mouth was easily the hottest string of words to ever grace my ears. I'd wanted Mina for ages, but I'd never expected her to be this dominating. She began to thumb the head of my cock, spreading the precum at the tip all over. "So wet for Mommy, baby. Are you cumming soon? Do you wanna glaze Mommy with your cum? I'll let you cum on me. Take your choice, baby. Do you want to cum on my breasts, my abs? My thighs? My ass, my back? Choose quickly, baby." Her hand stroked harder, and I instinctively exclaimed "Your breasts!"

"Good choice, darling. Cum for Mommy, cover Mommy with your love!" Mina fell back, spreading her legs to let me flush myself to her as I jerked myself to orgasm. My first shot landed all over her right breast, the second landing on the left. The next few shots glazed her sweaty torso, adding to the glistening of her sweat. Mina watched my cock spurt, delight and lust adorning her features, as she watched her baby dirty her body. Her hand thumbed my cock head once more, collecting the stray drips of cum, before she brought the thumb to her lips, licking my semen off it, as if it were some delicacy. Her other hand began to collect the sticky mess all over her torso and chest, scooping it up and pouring it in her mouth. Her tongue swirled in her mouth, mixing the semen with her saliva, before she sat up, opened her mouth to show me my cum, then swallowing it, before showing me her empty mouth. She giggled, before shifting to allow me line of sight to her wet pussy. Mina spread her labia open. The wet sound of the lips separating sent arousal down to my softening dick. Mina noticed that, and smiled. "Take your rest, baby. Come, please Mommy."

I shifted Mina to rest against me, her back leaning against my body. Placing my head near her right shoulder, I began to kiss her nape and towards the shoulder, teasing her a little. I kissed her up and down her neck, breathing on it once in a while, which got her whimpering and shuddering in anticipation and pleasure. My hands wrapped around Mina's body, one snaked around her core to keep her flush to me, the other firmly grasped her breast, kneading it to pleasure her. I was finally touching her body, and I intended to worship it.

Mina turned to me, her neediness and lust evident in her expression and tone. "Darling, don't tease me. Mommy isn't so patient." I caught her lips in a passionate kiss, my tongue sliding against her lower lip for access. When she granted me access, our tongues met, lazily swirling against the other, as we made out with each other. We broke our kiss, panting. "Mommy, please be patient." I gave her a short peck. "I want to worship Mommy's body."

I returned to kneading her breast as I kissed her neck, sucking and biting on certain spots. I fingered her erect nipple, pinching it and circling it, leading her to moan beautifully, the outlet of her pleasure music to my ears. Knowing that what I was doing was pleasing her turned me on so much. My dick flared to life, slowly hardening against her back, growing in size and girth. This did not escape Mina's notice, as she giggled. "Hehe, someone's happy~" I smiled against her ear, whispering, "I can't wait to fuck your pussy, Mommy, but you'll have to wait." Mina shuddered at my breath hitting her, which I filed as a potential spot to focus on.

I switched positions with Mina, letting her lie on the bed. I cradled her head and placed her softly on the pillow, before I straddled her and began to work on her neck once more, marking her neck with hickeys as she moaned at my ministrations on her neck. I bit on her earlobe and sucked, and Mina twitched at the pleasure, a loud moan escaping her lips. She was so fucking sexy moaning like that, and I felt precum flow out of my tip. Furthering my actions on her earlobe, Mina writhed around on the bed in pleasure, moaning a mixture of "Baby", "[Y/N]", or wordless sounds of pleasure. I began to kiss down from her neck, giving her butterfly kisses as I journeyed to her clavicle. I gave her a few kisses on her clavicle, hot openmouthed kisses as I licked the sweat on her pleasured body. The salty taste of her sweat did not bother me; my objective was to worship her body and make her cum with my mouth and fingers.

My journey down her body brought me to the swell of her bosom, her beautiful breasts begging to be pleasured. They heaved with each of Mina's laboured pants, her pert nipples waving in the air, tempting me to suckle and bite down on them. My dick twitched at the thought, precum once again flowing down to reach the tip, a little bit spurting out and dirtying the sheets. Mina's breasts were gorgeous and I could lose myself playing with them if I was left unchecked. I began to kiss down her cleavage, giving each breasts alternating pecks, licking and tonguing her flesh. Her warm body reciprocated earnestly; she writhed in lust, moaning as I kissed up each breast and around her nipples, but not quite touching them. "Mommy, can I…" my question trailed off as Mina looked up and nodded vigorously, silently begging for me to finally touch her sensitive nipples. When my tongue came into contact with her left nipple, my left hand pinched and tugged at her right, leading her hips to buck as pleasure coursed through her veins. "Aaaah~," she moaned, her right hand coming up to grip my hair. I gave her hardened nipple a few sucks, my tongue flicking it up and down, once in a while giving it a soft nibble. My hand carried on pinching and tugging her other nipple, while my other hand, which was supporting myself, reached over to grasp hers and hold it. "Baby, shit, that feels so good, fuck! Mommy feels so good baby, so so good~ aaah, shit~" Mina was enjoying the waves of pleasure crashing against her body. Her body was so warm, her beautiful features depicting the pleasure of the sexual activity she was engaging in.

I released her nipple from my mouth, blowing on it. The contrast of the cool air and the warmth of her body led her to squeak, as I blew on her nipple, then kissed it. Soon enough, I had swapped to her other nipple, suckling and nibbling the right nipple while fondling her left breast. All of this fueled Mina's desperation to finally have some action below. "Baby, fuck, eat Mommy out. Quickly!" I began to journey down towards her pussy, kissing all the way down her torso, her abs, her hip bones, and then down both her thighs. I spread Mina's legs open, my cock twitching at the amount of juices that was leaking out of Mina's pussy. Below where she lay, there was a large wet spot, and I could see how much her pussy glistened and clenched on nothing, as she begged, "Baby, quick!"

Our dynamics had switched, even though I was still calling her Mommy. I enjoyed the rush of power I had, and I began to kiss and lick down Mina's inner thighs, teasing her once more. I kissed down her left thigh, giving it a few licks, as she panted and hissed in pleasure. Doing the same for the other leg, I spared myself a glance at Mina's beautiful pussy. "Please, baby, eat Mommy, please!" Mina was so desperate she was pushing herself towards my mouth. I smiled, blowing on her clit, as she groaned in frustration. Finally, I gave her a lick around her pussy, tasting her juices but not giving her the relief she so craved. "Baby, please~ Ah~!!" I gave her slit one strong lick, gathering her juices all on my tongue, before swallowing what was in my mouth. Returning to her slit, I began to lick and suck on what I could, which was slowly driving Mina wild, as she grabbed my head and forced my mouth towards her pussy. I gave her a few more licks before I decided to push her quicker to the edge by involving my fingers. As I moved to kiss her clit, I began to rub my fingers over the slit, lubricating them for entry. Each kiss or lick on Mina's clit set off her melodic moans, groans, pants, and hisses. Occasionally, she would moan my name and I would double my efforts on her clit, which would set off small gushes of fluid onto my fingers.

"Mommy, can I put my fingers inside?" I looked up at Mina, our eyes meeting. She smiled and nodded, her smiling face quickly changing to one of pleasure as I penetrated her with my middle finger, thrusting in and out. I returned to kiss and suck on her clit, driving Mina crazy. "Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so good, aaah~! Oh my, your fingers… fuck!" Deciding to increase her pleasure, I added my ring finger to the mix, continuing my kisses, sucks, and licks on her hard clit. Each time I thrusted in, I curled my fingers, looking for her G-spot. After a few strokes, I heard Mina squealing, "Fuck, baby, there! Right there! Fu- Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" I focused my strokes to aim at that spot, as Mina bucked her hips wildly with each stroke, pushing my head into her crotch. I decided to swap my fingers with my tongue, hearing Mina's disappointment at the withdrawal of my fingers, then a gasp of delight as I stuck my tongue into her delicious pussy. I licked and sucked from her pussy directly, drinking whatever juices she could offer. My wet fingers rubbed around and on her clit, and I could hear her going "Fuck, if you keep that… if- if- aah~ if you keep that going- fuck- I'm going to cum! Fuck!" Mina's filthy mouth only spurred me to work harder on eating her out - I wanted to drink her in literally.

I began to hasten my motions on her clit, and focus on her G-spot, and only that spot, with my tongue. Mina's hips began to buck wildly, her moans and words building to a crescendo. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! [Y/N], baby, fuck! Don't stop, baby, don't stop! Fuck! I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES, YES, YESYESYES- AAAAAAAHHHH~~~!!!!"

Mina squirted. Her juices gushed from her pussy, spraying onto my lips and into my mouth. I wrapped my mouth around her pussy, drinking her squirt in. The sweet taste of her juices flooding my mouth sent my lust for her through the roof. Her hips wildly bucking, the shrill screams resembling a whistle resonating around the room, her orgasming pussy clenching around nothing...

Rising from my position between her legs, I crawled onto the bed, wiping my lips with my hand. "Mina, are you okay?" I caressed her cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Mina nodded, exhausted and high off the post-orgasm afterglow, giving me a beautiful eye smile, meeting my lips for that kiss. We made out again, our tongues swirling around each other lazily, basking in each other's company. Mina smiled at me, kissing my forehead. "There are condoms in the second drawer."

----------

[Mina's POV]

I gave [Y/N]'s hard cock a kiss after putting the condom on him. I rose up to him, giving him a kiss, before pushing him onto the bed and straddling him.

"Thank you for earlier, baby, but now… now you're going to fuck Mommy's pussy until Mommy cums all over your cock and you fill that condom with your seed." I aligned myself with [Y/N]'s cock, slowly sinking down. The tip of [Y/N]'s cock parted my labia, and I began to tease him, rubbing his tip along my pussy lips. He moaned, frustration evident on his face at my teasing. "I know you want to cum, baby. I know you want to fuck Mommy's tight slutty pussy until you fill my hole with cum. However, I call the shots here babe, and I want to see you squirm. This slutty body may be your reward tonight baby, but I'm not such an easy slut. If you please me, baby, I'll make sure you get the full extent of your reward. Ready yourself, babe."

Without warning, I sank down on the entire length of [Y/N]'s cock. I sheathed the entirety of his hard shaft in my naughty pussy, a loud moan erupting from my lips as he stretched my pussy. [Y/N]'s loud "Fuck!" and other curses was indicative enough of the pleasure he felt penetrating me for the first time. I supported myself on [Y/N]'s chest, my teeth gritted at the fullness I felt. Smirking, I cradled [Y/N]'s head, locking eyes with him. "You're not allowed to cum until I'm satisfied. If you cum, I'll make sure, next time, I'll strip you, tie you up, and ruin every orgasm you have. Are we crystal clear, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy." [Y/N] was such a good boy. So obedient, so eager to please. If he kept this up, he'd get to enjoy more of my body next time.

'Pak, pak, pak.' The sound of flesh slapping flesh began to ring around my room as I raised my hips and sank back down, riding [Y/N]'s cock. Moan after moan left my lips, unfiltered. I decided to torture [Y/N] with more dirty talk, just to tempt him into cumming. "How does it feel… ahh~... having Mommy… hff~... fuck your cock, baby? How does it feel- oh, fuck! ...knowing you're Mommy's new toy? Fuck, that feels so good…. You're mine to fuck. Anytime. Anywhere." I could feel myself squeezing his cock harder thinking about how he was now mine to fuck as and when I wanted, and with each time I impaled myself on his cock, he would let out the sexiest moans, his eyes clouded with pleasure and lust for me, tinged with obedience and fear. Halting my actions, I grinded down on him, going in circles as I smiled at [Y/N] gritting his teeth and trying not to blow his load. "You can't come yet, [Y/N]~, not until Mommy's slutty pussy cums on her new favorite toy~."

As I grinded down on him, I leaned over, putting my chest in front of his face. "Suck on the breasts you love, babe. I can tell- ah!" [Y/N] latched on instantly, thrusting up and sucking on my left nipple, fondling my right breast. "Oh my god, fuck, that feels so good! I can tell you've… ahh! You've… fuck, you've wanted this, haven't you, baby? Shit, mmmh~, suck on the tits you love so much, baby. Make Mommy cum." I panted in pleasure as [Y/N] fucked up into my pussy, my hips matching his thrusts. "Fuck Mommy's pussy until Mommy cums. If you make me cum, I'll let you fuck me how you want, and you can finally fill that condom."

[Y/N] kept his thrusts up as he fucked into me hard. I was getting closer and closer to orgasm; his sucking on, paired with occasional biting and pinching of my sensitive nipples sent pleasure all over my body. Sweat dripped down my body, running down my neck and chest, which [Y/N] licked up whenever he decided to attack my neck and breasts with licks and kisses.

"Oh shit, babe. Fuck me just like that! Yes! Right there, yes!" [Y/N] had angled himself under me to hit my G-spot once more, and every thrust he was making was hitting that exact spot. He groaned in pleasure and exertion as he thrusted harder, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows as he focused on not cumming in the condom once more, pushing himself to ensure I came on his cock.

"Fuck, baby, yes, yes, yes, yes, I'm gonna cum!"

My pussy squeezed down on his cock as I saw white and fell into his embrace. I could feel my back arch, pushing myself towards him, as I trembled and he fucked me through my orgasm, prolonging it.

"Oh, Mommy. Now it's my turn."

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina had her orgasm. Now it was my turn.

I flipped us so I was on top of her now, her legs wrapped around my hips. Mina's exhausted eyes stared into mine in surprise, and a devilish grin met her gaze. "Do you know how hard it was fucking you without being able to cum? Now I get to fuck your slutty pussy." I slowly began to thrust once more, Mina moaning at my movements. "Finally. Finally I get to fuck this pussy the way I like it."

I pushed my cock in her pussy ever so slowly, hearing her groan in frustration as I slid in one slow centimeter by one slow centimeter. "Mommy wants it faster, huh? Fine, I'll give you fast." I began to fuck her with quick, hard strokes, of which each was from head to hilt. "Fuck, baby, fuck, your cock feels so good in my pussy, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes, oh my god-" Mina was slowly losing the ability to make coherent sentences as I gave her a hard fucking. Her vocabulary consisted of the phrase "Oh my God", the words "Fuck", "Shit", and "Yes", as well as mindless moans of pleasure.

Catching Mina's lips in a heated kiss, I kept the pace and power of my thrusts even as we made out once more, her arms wrapped around me as I held her head in my hands and arms. She moaned into the kiss, wrapping her legs around my hips as I fucked her pussy with short strokes, chasing my orgasm.

I decided to taunt Mina just as she'd taunted me so many times. "I can feel your pussy clenching around my cock, Mommy. Does this turn you on that much? Knowing that I'm using your slutty pussy just so I can cum? I've wanted you like this for so long, Mommy, under me, being my cockslut. Does my cock feel good, Mommy? Does it feel good being fucked like that? Like you're nothing but a hole for my cock to fill?"

It wasn't long before I exclaimed, "Fuck, Mommy, I'm cumming!" I'd gone beyond the point of no return through both my dirty talk and Mina's reactions to said talk. She'd looked so pleasured and fucked out, and she could only nod and moan at my words, her pussy squeezing my cock as she got more and more aroused hearing my words. Mina had pulled my body flush against hers as she achieved another orgasm, her pussy milking my cock as I felt my balls tighten and my cock pulse, each pulse firing off stream after stream of thick, hot semen. I'd not been able to last long after I'd nearly blown my load multiple times - once when Mina had begun to talk dirty to me, a few times when I'd fucked into her, and the toughest was when she came the first time. Both of us released guttural moans as we orgasmed in each other's embrace, Mina pulling me in tightly, and as I cradled her head and buried myself in her neck.

--

I pulled out of Mina's freshly fucked pussy, my cock easily slipping out of the used condom after. I threw the used condom away, making my way back to the kitchen. Getting 2 cups of water, I returned to Mina's side, placing the cups on her bedside table and pulling her exhausted self up to a sitting position. Mina panted with exhaustion, sweat still running down her body. I ruffled her sweat matted hair, kneeling down to meet her eyes. "Are you okay, Mina? Was I too rough?" Mina gave me a tired eye smile, before shaking her head. "No, baby. It was perfect." She caught me in a slow passionate kiss, conveying what her exhausted brain could not with words. I smiled, offering her a cup of water, which she chugged.

"Come on, babe, let's shower again."

--

As I scrubbed Mina's hair, she softly called "[Y/N]..."

"Yes, Mina?"

"It's Sunday tomorrow…" She poked her fingers together, turning to me with her soapy hair. "I know it's not the right order, but… date tomorrow?"

Oh, my heart. She was pouting and giving me puppy eyes. Puppy eyes! Pouting! Poking her fingers together! She was ADORABLE!!!

I ruffled her hair with my soapy hands, smiling. "Of course, Mina. Date tomorrow." Mina grin equalled that of the power of the Sun, and she "vibrated" excitedly. I brought her into a tight hug, the water running over us.

"Let's finish up and go to bed, Mina."

--

The next morning, I woke up to Mina straddling my body once more. "Oh- uh.. wha-? Good morning, Mina..?"

Oh, she had that glint in her eyes… and she was gripping my morning wood.

"Baby, I see you're happy to see me~" She rubbed up and down the length, pulling it out of my shorts. "Get ready for Round 2, baby~ The date can wait..."

"You're mine until I'm done with you."

--- END ---

[writing-prompt-s]

Hey there! First time anon asker, long time follower. I appreciate all the work you do for this blog. Just want to keep the conversation going about the Edison quote you retweeted, on "giving up" versus "knowing when to stop." Though Edison sucks as some comments pointed out, I happen to agree with the quote to an extent. I'm curious to know more about your experience. First, some background for my opinion: I work as a student tutor for fellow college students. One of the biggest things we learn as tutors is how to encourage students NOT to give up when they face a challenge. Lots of people, especially first-gen college students, give up when they're struggling in class because they assume they're "not smart enough" or something along those lines, when research and my personal experience show that that's not true. They are able to change their school habits and seek out help, but only if they already have a mindset where they believe they can do it. Those who don't believe in themselves are less likely to seek help and thus, more likely to fail. Students might also drop out of college or get bad grades because of things outside of their control, like losing their job or other difficulties that make it hard for them to continue at college. This is also an issue because some (not all) colleges have programs to help students during difficult times, but many students don't even try, they just drop out. I have benefitted from some of these programs personally, so even though they can't cure everything, these programs should be considered when a student is struggling. And sometimes, dropping out of college IS the best decision for a person, whether they intend to return later or go a different path. It's just that for many students, they don't have to give up on their education/career goals because of the hardships they're currently trying to work through, but they believe that there's nothing else they can do. The solution may be out there, but they "give up" because they didn't look for it. As a tutor, that's why phrases like "don't give up!" are so important for the people I work with. Not because college is for everyone or that people should sacrifice their well-being for a degree, but because students (again especially first generation college students, students of color, and low income students) have such low confidence in themselves and their ability to learn and grow through obstacles. The Edison quote wasn't about college, but I'm using my experience as a college student and tutor as a more concrete example of why the Edison quote could be useful. College student or not, I think having a "don't give up" attitude can get you through some hard times. So all of this is to preface my question: in your opinion, how can we know the difference between a healthy, "I will do everything I can to meet my goals" situation and an unhealthy, "I will sacrifice everything" situation? Sorry for this lengthy ask btw, if you don't want to respond I completely understand. Just hoping to hear your insight to the topic more. Thanks for this blog and for sharing your thoughts! -S

Hey S!

Read “The Dip” by Seth Godin. It counts about 80 pages but reads like 30. I highly recommend reading it and using the ideas in guiding your students. When you read it, it’s mostly common sense with a bit of oh damn, nice! But sometimes common sense needs to be conceptualized, made concrete, or put into context, and this little book does just that.

The main idea is to know if you should quit or persevere during ‘a dip’ by forecasting the probability of success and take costs/rewards into account.

However, this might not be everyone’s best skill, so some people might need practice or guidance. As Ray Dalio points out in his book ‘Principles’, everyone is wired differently. Just as our bodies come in different shapes and sizes, so do the compositions of our brains. Some people might have weak bones or naturally have lots of muscle mass. Others might regulate emotions well, or are weak at visualizing the future. (By the way, neuroscience tells us we can shape and improve our brains!)

The different compositions of our brains also affects communication between people. Everyone encodes and decodes information differently, and then also gets filtered through one’s own life experiences. So advice such as ‘first seek to understand, then to be understood’ is paramount before encouraging people to ‘not give up.’ If the other person doesn’t feel that you completely understand their situation, saying that actually might work counter-productive!

In my opinion, in most cases 'don’t give up!’ is a good motto for college students. You know what to expect from college. If you do x you will get x. If you stick through the dip (time spend getting good grades), you will get the reward (degree). However, as you point out, some students might face additional stress outside of college, or society might already have put them at a disadvantage. It might just become too much. You helping and encouraging students who are at a disadvantage is incredibly helpful. As humans, we are naturally wired to be interdependent. We cannot do everything by ourselves, nor should we want to. We thrive on meaningful relationships and social connections.

So where is the line between healthy and unhealthy? That’s actually a very tough question. Most people tend to think of life as a journey, always trying to get somewhere, trying to achieve something. It would mean telling people how to live their life and I have no clue. Of course, if in trying to get to your goal your body shows signs of it being unhealthy, stop or take a break. Stress is good, but not to the point where you break down. Self-management is key. Overall I would say it’s healthy if your values align with the process to achieve the goal, the goal, and the consequences of achieving it. But then again, always be realistic. Quitting frees up time, energy and other resources that can be spend on achieving a different, perhaps more rewarding/meaningful/attainable goal.

An attempt at a more concrete answer would be:

It’s impossible to generalize what is healthy and what is unhealthy as everyone has a different idea of what that is and is living their own complex life. Therefore, on a case-by-case basis, people should be taught to take a step back sometimes, contemplate what they are doing, analyse it, be open-minded, seek help from (qualified) people and ask for feedback and advice, and then make up their minds themselves whether what they are doing is healthy or not.

As @zeadtalost said in the comments: “Man’s gotta know his limitations”. But then I would like to add to it that ‘man’ should not be fool enough never to test what they believe to be their limitations. Because what you say is true. Often limitations are in the mind, and overcoming them is what will make people more confident and capable! So please keep doing what you are doing. I doubt you find this a concrete answer, but I am pretty sure the book by Seth Godin will help you lots! Also, by the length of your ask I can tell you are very dedicated and a compassionate tutor, and it’s your caring attitude that will give your students the best chance of succeeding!

[thefirstknife]

Iron Lord Saladin Forge

Season of the Lost dropped some major lore about Saladin and I love every piece of it so I will make a huge post detailing stuff about and what's important.

The lore is on Iron Banner armour which you can see in-game when you go to the armour section. The lore is the same on each class so it doesn't matter which one you read. It's in the order of how armour is set, so helmet -> arm piece -> chest piece -> leg piece -> class item. There's some extras on Iron banner weapons that I'll add as well.

The rest under the cut due to length and also spoilers!

I'll link to the Hunter gear because I'm a dirty Hunter main and I read it from there and that's what I have open because I couldn't remember the names for other two classes, but the lore is the same on all of them. The set is called Iron Forerunner.

We haven't really had any substantial Saladin lore in D2 besides few lore pieces from Chosen and Splicer. Not nearly enough I think, especially since he wasn't properly introduced in D2 at all and it was kinda assumed that everyone would know about him from the Rise of Iron expansion in D1. He had plenty of voice lines, but with no real context. His voice lines in Season of the Chosen were interesting, but also made a lot of people think he's a bad person and a warmongering coward who sat on his butt during the Red War and was then preaching action for action's sake.

The situation is obviously more complex, but I've always said that it's Bungie fault for not explaining more about him prior to his involvement in the Season of the Chosen. Well, now we got some really interesting information at last!

Anyway, helmet first!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We threw ourselves on the blades of tyranny so others may live free." —Lord Saladin

This is referencing the Iron Lords' fight against the Warlords in the Dark Age. Saladin is heavily influenced by his time in the Dark Age. It seems like some really old Guardians never get over the trauma of living through that (Drifter is another example). Side note: this could also be referencing the battle against SIVA since Rasputin is also known as "The Tyrant." It's not fully relevant tho, as Saladin was equally affected by both periods in his life.

This first entry details something we don't really think about when it comes to Guardians: death. It's a temporary thing with them so it doesn't really matter. But Saladin recounts how he remembers his deaths and how each one felt. Despite the fact that he will be brought back, the pain and struggle of dying are very real. There is also the associated trauma of the realisation that you will go through this over and over and over:

He laughed when his Ghost reassembled him. Then, he cried.

It's not something mentioned often, and definitely wasn't a point raised with Saladin. It gives some context to how seriously he takes combat, training and the lives of his fellow Guardians.

Saladin remembers the day he stopped counting deaths. "Something about you is different," Jolder had said, and put her hand on his.

This explains that his worldview of the role of Lightbearers changed the moment he was invited to become an Iron Lord. It's also important to remember that he loved Lady Jolder very much (in whichever way you want to interpret it) and that watching her make the choice to die a final death has had a heavy impact on him.

Saladin remembers all this and more when he looks at the Crow. He feels rage form a hot pit in his belly when Osiris tells him about the young Lightbearer's suffering at the hands of his fellow Guardians. Osiris asks him if he can keep a secret.

"I don't like secrets," Saladin says, and that's the end of it.

Saladin doesn't really say this during Chosen and his interactions with Crow, but it's evident from this that he cares deeply about the young Light who suffered in ways Saladin only remembers people suffering during the Dark Age. It's also important to note that the Osiris he speaks to here is Savathun. Saladin seems to be uniquely unaffected by Savathun's schemes. This will repeat itself again later.

Second, arms piece.

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We were forged in the fires of a burning world." —Lord Saladin

Same thing as before. Referencing the post-Collapse Dark Age. The lore tab details a really tragic story of the Iron Lords burying bodies, including the implication of Saladin burying the body of a child. He recalls that these people were victims of Fallen Raiders.

"It's a vicious circle," Efrideet had said as she tied off a funeral shroud with great care. Saladin remembers the bundle being very small. "One day, I'm going to break it."

Saladin remembers how easily the body fit in his arms, how light it felt as he laid it in the grave. He remembers, with shame, pretending not to hear Efrideet's words so he wouldn't need to respond to them.

He remembers not having anything kind to say.

He obviously regrets not having a stronger stance on this in the past. Where Efrideet seems to have always been keen on ending the cycle of violence, he clearly thought differently and is now ashamed of it. This transitions into more about his relation to Crow:

Saladin remembers all this and more whenever the Crow talks back to him. Sometimes, he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Sometimes, he looks up to find his Ghost focused on him with a knowing look.

He doesn't say anything to his Ghost either.

Because Crow was saying things that reminded him of Efrideet. Breaking the cycles of violence, extending a friendly hand, not treating everyone like an enemy. It's evident that this turmoil is still inside of him as someone who spent most of his time fighting for survival, only to be told by those younger than him that there's a way out of that war. It's a very common struggle of people dealing with trauma and specifically PTSD to not be able to imagine and/or live in a world of peace and to outright reject the possibility of peace ever existing. Saladin is very clearly dealing with that and here, we see it from his own POV: despite sometimes being harsh to Crow, there were times when he chose to say nothing because deep down he knows that Crow is right. Accepting that is a long process though.

Third, chest piece.

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We rose from the ashes of a dying world to save humanity from itself." —Lord Saladin

Same again, but this is an interesting way to phrase it. He's talking about humanity being a danger to itself, not about any external threat. Ultimately, the Traveler's gift was the first thing that harmed humanity post-Collapse, despite later being the thing that saved it.

This leads into Saladin's thoughts on the Red War, something we've been sorely missing for a very long time.

Saladin remembers losing his connection to the Light. He remembers thinking that the Traveler must have discovered his most secret doubts; the darkest thoughts he shared with no one—not even his Ghost. He remembers the strange sense of relief that had washed over him until his radio crackled to life just moments later.

His deepest secret? Probably that Light is a burden. When he lost the connection to the Light, he specifically thought it had only happened to him and then felt relief. Freedom from the eternal war he has to keep waging. I'm sure he feels incredible shame for thinking it would be better to just lose the Light and die a final death, but alas, he is bound by duty. Especially a Titan's duty.

He stands there thinking about it for a while before finally deciding to embrace that duty. And now we know what he was doing during the Red War:

"Saladin," his Ghost said again, and Saladin remembers moving. He remembers clutching his radio and rallying survivors—those strong enough to make the journey—to the Iron Temple.

It's been abbreviated as him "sitting out" the Red War because he didn't fight. Of course it was strange that the last remaining active Iron Lord did not show up to the City to fight alongside all the others, both Guardians and ordinary humans. That Lord Saladin, someone who endured so many hardships and fought so many battles since the Dark Age, hasn't come to help humanity in its time of greatest need.

But now this hits different. He didn't fight, yes. He couldn't. Losing the Light wasn't just something that made him scared (like all Lightbearers): it was something that made him scared of how he might actually enjoy dying a glorious final death. To end the trauma and the memories of all the horrors he's been through. So instead of throwing himself into a reckless death, he chose to stay in the Iron Temple and protect survivors.

So yeah, he didn't fight, but he did something equally important. The Iron Temple is an extremely well protected fortress that's very difficult to reach and breach, so any survivor he gathered was perfectly safe there until the Red War ended. Sometimes "sitting out" is more noble than fighting.

Saladin remembers all this and more whenever the Crow challenges him on his cowardice during the Red War. He wants to break the young Guardian's back to teach him a lesson about what it's like to feel helpless, but something stops him.

He remembers hearing stories about the Crow's life on the Shore before he arrived at the Tower, and does not raise a hand against him.

The lore entry ends with telling us that Saladin was clearly very agitated about Crow's teasing. But in the end, he remembered what Crow has been through and realised that Crow already knows what it's like to feel helpless. He did not need a reminder and Saladin decided to take the teasing without a response. It truly frames some of those voice lines in a different light, knowing this background.

Fourth, leg piece!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We crossed a burning world with sword in hand, bringing justice and blood." —Lord Saladin

Once more, we are told that Saladin was mostly forged (eheh) through his experience in the Dark Age.

The lore page details a bittersweet memory Saladin has of him with his fellow Iron Lords and friends enjoying some good time over a meal and song.

He remembers Radegast asking him to sing the song taught to them by the people of the blacksmith's village, but agreeing only when Jolder and Perun promised to join in. Their voices rose like wolves in the night and were so raw by morning that none of them could speak.

This is honestly heartbreaking. Saladin being this happy and free to sing and enjoy himself: compared to how he is now. But even with that, he has retained the need to do it again sometimes, if he ever finds people to be comfortable around.

Saladin remembers all this and more when Zavala tells him Amanda has taken the Crow out to drink in the City's streets. He wonders what song they'll sing, if it's anything like the one he's heard everyone humming lately—even though he hasn't tried it himself.

I love how he projects his past joy onto the two young people and wonders if they'll do the same as he did once. Here we also get another hint about Saladin apparently not being affected by Savathun's viral chant. It might be a point relevant in the future.

Finally, class item!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We crushed the Warlords beneath our heel so that they may never rise again." —Lord Saladin

Nothing new here. Just Saladin recounting how hard they went against the Warlords.

The rest is a very poignant lore page that details the relationship between Saladin and Zavala. Zavala studied under Saladin who was his mentor and it's been repeated often that Saladin has retained a "soft spot" for him.

Saladin remembers the first time he met Zavala. He remembers thinking that the Awoken had regal bearing like the stags he once hunted on the Steppes. His shoulders were broad, and his chin held high. When he moved, he did so with the strength and purposeful deliberation of someone with the power to determine his own place in the world.

"You'll never have a son," his Ghost had said, "but it isn't too late for you to take an apprentice."

I love when non-Awoken describe Awoken, there's always something ethereal about it. But I'm mostly putting this part here because of what Saladin's Ghost says.

First, I am incredibly soft for older Guardians adopting younger ones as kids and teaching them. Easily my favourite dynamic ever. Saladin seeing Zavala as a son makes me cry a thousand tears.

And second, is this finally a full confirmation that Guardians cannot bear children? It's kind of a strange place to put it, but it seems to be the implication. It makes sense they wouldn't be able to, but it's also nice to have some direct lore information about it in case it pops up as a question. I'm sorry if this ruins anyone's fics.

Saladin remembers their sparring matches. He remembers how Zavala always got back on his feet, no matter how many times Saladin put him down. He remembers refusing to offer the younger Lightbearer a hand up. Until the day Zavala finally bested him in combat.

He remembers lying flat on his back, left shoulder dislocated and ribs shattered, a strange pressure on his chest that made it difficult to breathe.

"Finish it," Saladin had commanded because that was the way of things. His Ghost would revive him.

Saying nothing, Zavala hauled him to his feet instead.

I love how this is placed at the end, paralleling the beginning of Saladin remembering his deaths and the pain of dying. But instead of "finishing it," Zavala pulls him back up. It's definitely something Saladin hasn't experienced before, especially not before becoming an Iron Lord, when all of his deaths were just gruesome ends to a struggle. Then seconds after, he'd be back up. He took the revival for granted, until Zavala offered him the alternative. Again, an interesting perspective about something we don't usually think about much. I do wonder how Saladin healed afterwards though.

Saladin remembers all this and more when his former apprentice calls him into his office and tells him about the face behind the Crow's mask. Zavala says he knows that Saladin doesn't like secrets; that it's unfair to ask him to keep one of this magnitude, but there will come a time when the Crow needs someone—the way Zavala needed Saladin.

"You never needed anyone," Saladin insists.

Zavala only smiles.

This page ends with the two bonding again. Despite their differences and disagreements, there's mutual respect between the mentor and the apprentice. The father and the son.

And Saladin thinks Zavala never needed him, but that is obviously not true and Zavala tells him so. He also tells him that Crow, and implied Guardians like him, will need the same guidance.

It gives us a full circle back to Saladin's musings about his purpose as a Guardian and Lightbearer. He may have doubted his place in the world before, but seeing as he's still here with us and actively participating and helping; training us through Iron Banner, helping with the Eliksni, refusing to side against the Vanguard despite the difference in opinion, now serving as Zavala's ambassador for the Cabal and easily bonding with someone he would've considered an enemy not long ago...

I think Saladin knows his place. He's one of the strongest Lightbearers and most principled among them. He is not swayed by lies and deceptions, he does not abide by them and speaks plainly. He has deeply rooted beliefs in justice and he will not compromise himself, even if it means conceding his position to make peace with a former enemy when that enemy proves their worth, honesty and good intentions to him.

He is a Guardian.

He is an Iron Lord.

[brywrites]

Lock and Key I

Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.

[Series Masterlist]

....

The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.

Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.

Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.

“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”

Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”

This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”

She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”

“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”

“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”

The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”

“In what?”

“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”

Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.

“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”

Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.

“What did you study?” he asks her.

“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”

“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”

Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.

The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.

“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”

“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”

She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.

“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.

“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”

He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.

But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”

“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”

“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”

“Like… grade papers and things?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”

Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.

“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”

“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”

“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”

The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.

When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”

“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”

“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.

[Next]

..

Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​

[marigoldwitch]

Let’s Talk About Elitism in the Witchcraft Community

It always seems to come back to this but I want to talk about witches in the community who give confusing, and often times misguided, advice to new comers in an attempt to separate themselves from the “soft” or “baby” practitioners.

I’m on witchtok (a community on an app called TikTok, in case you were unaware of what I’m talking about) alot and there’s something I noticed about the witches there; something I’m sure alot of you have noticed too. There’s 2 major groups of witches on the app. The ones who post “easy” and “simple” spells and information, and the ones who post up reactionary spells and information.

There seems to be this need for witches who feel better than or more educated (in their opinion) to posts videos in response to or in direct opposition of other witches. Usually these other witches are seen as newbies to the craft. And if they aren’t new (as in they’ve been practicing for a while) they’re considered uneducated or unwilling to learn.

The “why aren’t witches reading books anymore?” and “I think it’s them being more worried about aesthetics than actually learning.” comments are frustrating and reveals a huge disconnect and sense of privilege within our community. I’ve also seen comments / videos specifically criticizing the popularity of spell jars in recent years. The funniest thing though is that a lot of them are suggesting doing charm bags instead... as if that’s not just another form of a spell jar.. except it’s in a bag... not a jar :/ They want so badly to be “other” and “better” that they’re actually giving advice that’s basically saying “hey instead of using X container to hold your spell, have you tried using Y container instead?? If you read books and not just get your info from Tik Tok blah blah blah.” As if they’ve suggested something grand or much different than what someone is already doing.

Let’s Talk Privilege 

First lets be clear that privilege doesn’t mean you haven’t had “hard times” in your life. And being privileged in one way doesn’t make you privilege in every aspect. You can have class privilege while also experiencing hardship in relation to another aspect of your life. I am white, I have white privilege. I’m also a poor high school drop out. Which means I don’t have class privilege. It’s important that I make this clear because I know some people are gonna identify in someway with one or more of the under privileged groups that I’ll be talking about and that’s normal. That doesn’t mean that you can’t also identify in someway with one or more of the privileged groups that I’ll be talking about. 

Why don’t you just read more books? / Why don’t you just experiment with more tools, supplies and options like crystals, candles, herbs, tarot etc? / Why don’t you just invest in better tools and supplies? 

This falls under class privilege. Not everyone can afford to spend money on these things. “Well the library is free” not everyone can afford to spend time on these things. And I know, to someone who has the money and has the time, these sound like excuses to just not work “hard enough” (which we’ll get into why this statement is ablest in a minute) but it’s legit the reality for a lot of people. Let’s also remember that public libraries in underfunded poorer communities are.. well under funded and don’t offer the same selection that a well funded library would. Also the cost of going to and from that library (or a much better one with a better selection). Personally, I live in what is known as the bible belt and my local (underfunded) library has 5 books on witchcraft. 3 are reference books and can not actually be checked out. The other 2 require a 10 dollar deposit to check out. I kid you not. You have to pay to check out those books.

I saw a comment that said “crystal grids and crystal magic is very beginner friendly and easy, why don’t more witches do this?” And I want to shake them and scream “crystals cost money you doodoo head!!” LOL.

Supplies and tools are expensive. Yes, there’s plenty of information online about how to use what you have on hand... and those same witches sharing cheap and easy alternatives to supplies and tools are also sharing cheap and easy alternatives to spells and rituals. Hence how spell jars became so popular.

“They just don’t want to put in the effort” / “They aren’t working hard enough” / “They’re just in it for the aesthetics”

This falls under ableism. 1. Expecting other witches to match your energy and effort is hella ablest and you should stop. Not only is it unrealistic to assume we’re all on the same page, it’s unhealthy to project your own expectations on to {most likely} complete strangers just because you share one interest [witchcraft] with them. 2. Some people are visual practitioners (whether they’re ND or not) and so they need to and work better with seeing what they’re doing. It’s obvious that the type of witchcraft lots of ND people use is the type that is overly criticized in our community. (ND = Neurodivergent)

Physical disability is also something to keep in mind. Not everyone is physical able to do all the things you can do. Personally I experience hand tremors. Basically using an herb bundle to do a smoke cleansing is a huge ass mess for me and is more headache than it’s worth. So I opt out of smoking cleansing that way. It doesn’t mean that I’m not trying hard enough or that I’m not putting in the effort to make it work... it means I have a disability that makes it more difficult and I’ve found other ways to do these cleanses.

Also, witches are allowed to like pretty things. Like pretty things and valuing the beauty in your practice is all perfectly fine. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your space, yourself or your practice to look “pretty.” 

I Need To Mention Cultural Awareness

Another reason something might not make sense to you is because it isn’t for you, literally it has nothing to do with you or your practice and so you’ve chosen to put it down rather than mind your business. That’s really all I can say about this as I practice a fairly common form of folk magic and the practice, as well as the culture in which it’s derived from is open. So there’s nothing I do that’s really considered for specific cultures only. I’d rather someone else with more experience talk about this in more detail. 

Misguided Information and Superiority Complex 

When sharing information and experiences it’s probably better to do so without needing it to be in reaction to someone else’s information and experiences. I don’t think there is anything wrong with sharing other forms of magic or witchcraft. I think most of us want as much information to be as easily accessible for as many people as possible. The issue comes from only sharing this information and experience because you think the oppositions is/are wrong. Not because you want the help people learn. And actively putting down certain information because it was shared via social media, while also insisting that your information is the actual correct information.. while also sharing it on the same social media platform.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet.... except me. You can believe me.” Is what it feels like. And I think what gets to me the most is the amount of UPG that is sprinkled into a lot of the information that these “I know better” witches share. Thinking you know better or know more because you’ve been doing it longer or doing it different, doesn’t actually mean you do. 

I’ve said this before: No one is sharing their entire practice online

“Why are you only doing spell jars?” why do you assume that the only time they practice witchcraft is for a video / photo that they post online? 

Better yet, why are you demanding they share more than they’re comfortable with sharing? Why do you feel entitled to know everything about their practice? 

Just because a witch’s Tik Tok, Instagram, Tumblr etc is only filled with pretty spell jars and aesthetic photos of teas, doesn’t mean that’s their entire practice. That’s the part they’re willing to share with the world. And even if it was their entire practice, why do you care? Why is it your business? When did they ask you to tell them what you thought of their practice?

In conclusion

Before you make that post or make that video about how X witches aren’t doing Y thing right because I did it Z way, remember we’re all different. Times change. And something being popular doesn’t mean it’s not effective or useful. Something being mainstream doesn’t make it bad or stupid. And witchcraft becoming more and more modernized doesn’t mean it’s losing it’s roots or that the next generation of witches are gonna be “sissy babies with nothing but a bunch of pretty jars.” and even if they are, it’s non of your business.

[panlight]

What are three ways that you think that Meyer's beliefs and/or experiences have influenced her work? Not just her Mormonism, but maybe her English degree, her home area, etc.

The first example that comes to mind is something she mentioned herself. When people asked her "why are ALL the boys in school super into Bella?" she explained that it was based on her own experience from moving from Arizona to Utah:

In this particular case, I modeled Bella’s move to Forks after my real life move from high school to college. (Personal story alert!) I mentioned in my bio that I went to a high school in Scottsdale, AZ, which is Arizona’s version of Beverly Hills (picture the high school in the movie Clueless). In high school, I was a mousy, A-track wall-flower. I had a lot of incredible girlfriends, but I wasn’t much sought after by the Y chromosomes, if you know what I mean. Then I went to college in Provo, Utah. Let me tell you, my stock went through the roof. See, beauty is a lot more subjective than you might think. In Scottsdale, surrounded by barbies, I was about a five. In Provo, surrounded by normal people, I was more like an eight. I had dates every weekend with lots of really pretty and intelligent boys (some of whose names end up in my books). It was quite confusing at first, because I knew there was nothing different about me.

Gonna go out on a limb and assume this is also where her resentment of pretty blonde women comes from, too (See: Rosalie, Lauren, Tanya, etc) given her use of the term 'barbies' here.

I think the importance of children/family/marriage is another big one. It seems like she simply could not imagine an existence, or a happily ever after, without a family, and without a child. It's the source of Rosalie's resentment and pain; it's the pathology that motivates Esme to play mother to a bunch of teenage immortals barely 'younger' than her; it's Leah being upset when she believes herself to be a 'genetic dead end.' Even though she wrote Bella specifically as not being into the idea of kids ("loud creatures often dripping some form of goo"). Even when writing about vampires it's through the lens of this happy nuclear family. And I was here for the found family stuff, with both the Cullens and the Pack, people who aren't blood-family (okay, some of the pack are distant cousins but you know what I mean) forming those kind of supportive bonds, etc. But then that's not good enough for her protagonists and she has to give them a biological child. It really just feels like she couldn't imagine a happy ending that didn't include children and that may come from her own personal experience as a mother, (and?) or the cultural emphasis placed on family, children, motherhood in her religion.

And then there's just sort of the "suburban white mom" style of "goodness" in the books. It's sort of what we were talking about the other day re: the limits on Carlisle's compassion: are those specific character choices SM intentionally made, or are they the results of her own worldview, and he can't be any more compassionate than his own author is? None of these kids in high school drink or do drugs or are implied to be having pre-marital sex. Everyone is straight. No one swears. The Quileutes are written in that sort of "I don't see race!" colorblind way, which means she misses all the racial implications of white characters calling Indigenous characters 'dogs' (which, again--common in supernatural media for vampires to do to werewolves! SM did not invent this trope. But the connotations when all the vampires are white and all the werewolves are Native American are really bad), and doesn't see anything problematic about white vampires living on Quileute land. She sees it all only as "vampire vs werewolf" and completely misses the issues of race, ethnicity and class that are inherent to this conflict she created. And then there's just the use of the Quileutes in general, it's that sort of white lady attitude of "oh I'm so fascinated by native culture!" and not thinking/seeing beyond that that these are current, living people and wondering how they would feel about her using them, their stories, and their history in this way.

[jaskiersvalley]

I just reached the bottom of your writings and felt the need to say that i appreciate you. You’re really cool and im happy I stumbled upon you.

You are far far too sweet. This has been sat in my inbox for so long because I don't think anyone has called me cool before and I wanted to bask in that. I really appreciate you too and I'm really happy you stumbled upon my blog. So I hope you're still in the fandom and enjoy this little bit of odd zombie AU.

CW: Zombies, apocalypse, Resdent Evil/Last of Us inspired AU.

Last Hope

Nobody expected the Continent to turn to shit. War had been on the horizon, Nilfgaard was advancing but not once did anyone expect them to have been experimenting with creating superior soldiers to fight for them. Allegedly the idea had been to harvest some of the Continent's monsters' attributes and imbue them into soldiers, creating a new class of warriors. It hadn't worked. But what Nilfgaard did manage to create was a virus like no other before. It turned humans and animals into mindless, violent creatures whose sole purpose was to feed, preferably on human flesh. The virus spread like no other, bringing the whole Continent to its knees.

Pockets of survivors remained, walled up in thick stone keeps. Kaer Morhen was one such sanctuary. Witchers, it turned out, weren't immune to the virus. Letho had watched Serrit and Auckes succumb to it, had put them down before setting light to where they'd been trying to stay safe and he set off to find somewhere, anywhere, that would accept him. The cold didn't impact much on the undead, they still moved just as deadly fast, unencumbered by things like fatigue, hunger or frostbite. Still, he made it up to the keep and was welcomed in. It was probably the most full Kaer Morhen had been in a long time. There were witchers, sorceresses, humans, dwarves, vampires and who knew what else, all coexisting and trying to make the best of their lives.

"I heard rumours," Letho said over dinner. "There's someone immune to this whole wretched thing down South."

"And I heard a rumour that taking a shit over the parapets cures piles," Lambert shot back with a snort. Being cooped up with so many people didn't exactly suit him, even when Aiden was there along with Eskel too.

Yennefer sat up straighter. "I've heard that rumour too. Sent word out that if it's true, we're probably best placed to try and find what makes the person so special. Maybe derive a cure from them."

Not long after, Gaetan arrived with Guxart. And with some news.

"There's a man and a girl travelling North. Allegedly with the hope of a cure."

The others exchanged looks, not wanting to believe rumours. Hope was a dangerous thing, but they could all use a dose of it. Things had been bleak to say the least.

Guxart picked up the story. "There's a lot of people gunning for them. So far they've evaded being captured, left quite a bloody trail too. We saw what remained of a tavern. Allegedly the group living there had been luring in weary travellers with the promise of safety, only to throw them into a fighting ring." Unfortunately such stories weren't unusual, humans had the most disdainful ideas of entertainment at times. Guxart pressed on, "If it was those two then I hope they're not headed here. They left no survivors, cleared out the place of humans and undead alike. It was a massacre."

There was nothing to do but wait. A week passed, then another. The hope they'd felt at the mention of a possible path to a cure dwindled and turned into bitter disappointment at the backs of their minds. It was almost three weeks later that there was a commotion on the path to the old keep. The undead who lurked in the trees were snarling and howling as two figures broke into a sprint on the last stretch of the path, pursued by quite a hoard of hungry zombies.

"Get the gate!" Vesemir bellowed and it was a mad dash to open the gates while armed. They weren't quick enough and a scuffle broke out as the two travellers were up against the gates, the undead descending upon them. A sharp scream went up from what sounded like a young girl. The gate opened and Eskel reached out, pulling her in first before Lambert gruffly yanked her protector in too. The others pushed to slam the gates shut, bolting it once more.

"Cahir! Are you okay?" The girl ignored them all in favour of checking over her guardian, wisps of blonde hair sticking to her sweaty face.

"I'm fine." A gruff answer and the so called Cahir looked up at them with an exhausted, hollow gaze. "This is Kaer Morhen, right? We were told this is where we had to come. She's Ciri, I'm Cahir."

Vesemir stepped forward with a brisk nod. "Welcome. Let's get you settled. From what I hear, you had quite the journey."

Yennefer ushered Ciri away and the others trailed after her, curious to see what someone immune to the virus looked like, acted like. The left Eskel to lead Cahir to a room of his own.

"Nilfgaard's quite a way," he said by way of conversation, ignoring the way Cahir rubbed his wrist under his cloak.

"Vicovaro is even further." The answer was a little prim and offended. "I'm not Nilfgaardian."

"My apologies. If you want to clean up, we have a communal bath in the lower levels. You're welcome to join us."

The offer seemed to go ignored as Cahir simply flopped on the bed and closed his eyes without even kicking off his worn boots. Eskel couldn't begrudge him, such a journey was long and tiring even before the world went to shit. To then have to cross the Continent while chased by who knew how many people wanting his precious charge and the unending masses of undead no doubt made the whole thing exhausting.

Dinner was bubbling away in a large cauldron over a fire and the chores for the day were done. It was quite common for most of the residents of Kaer Morhen to settle in the baths, one of the few remaining luxuries left for them. To everyone's surprise Cahir bumbled in a little while later, still sleep rumpled but without his cloak. It left his ragged and torn shirt in full view, including where one sleeve had been ripped off at the elbow. On his lower arm was a freshly applied bandage with blood that had seeped through in an all too telling pattern. Cries of alarm went up as they spotted the bite.

"You've been bitten!"

"How could you endanger us like this?"

"You idiot!"

It was a cacophony as various witchers jumped out of the baths, reaching for their swords and heedless of their nudity. There was a very real danger in their midst that needed to be taken care of. Cahir held up his hands in a placating manner, surrendering without a fight.

"If I may?" He pulled his shirt over his head and the others tried to make sense of what they were seeing. His body was littered with scars from bites. Some were healed, others still scabbed over. When the trousers slid down, Cahir's legs were no different.

"What the-?" Lambert scowled.

It was the exact moment Yennefer arrived, Ciri in tow. She gave Cahir a once over. "It would seem we made some assumptions. Cahir, when you're rested and fed, I'd like to take a sample of your blood and hair please."

Next to her, Ciri giggled and tucked a strand of hair out of her face. She walked up to Cahir and took his bandaged arm in hand, inspecting his handiwork.

"You're getting better at this," she announced. "Hopefully it's the last one you've taken for me or anyone else though."

Her words were followed by an eerie silence in the baths as the others mulled over everything.

"So-" Eskel rubbed the back of his neck with a small frown, "-is Ciri your daughter?"

A bright laugh bubbled out of Ciri at that. "If only I was so lucky. I was his escort and bodyguard. Our pursuers often assumed that me being so young looking meant I was the immune one and Cahir was protecting me. That deception worked well for us."

Guxart cleared his throat. "We saw a tavern that was a fighting ring."

Both Ciri's and Cahir's faces darkened at that. It was Cahir who answered.

"We survived. But barely." His hand rubbed over his shoulder where a large chunk had been torn out, leaving a visible dent. "Had to lay low and recover for a while after that. Ciri injured her throat."

"And you got a bitch of a fever. You're the worst patient ever, always fidgeting and poking. It's a miracle only that bite got infected so bad."

Cahir stuck his tongue out at Ciri and she poked him in the stomach. In turn Cahir ruffled her hair and danced away. Taking it as a challenge, she dashed after him and gave him a shove that sent him flying, landing with a big splash in one of the baths. Spluttering and laughing, he surfaced.

"Oh you little bitch!" He playfully splashed water in her direction but Ciri let out a scream and the water froze mid arc before dropping into a sad little puddle on the ground.

The others stared at her in awe and horror. She grinned at them with a shrug. "You didn't really think they'd send some random, helpless girl as a bodyguard, did you?"

A hand landed on Ciri's shoulder as Yennefer smiled down at her. "You and I have a lot to discuss. How would you feel about learning how to control your powers even better?"

For the first time since the news that there might be a solution to the virus, hope trickled back into the lives of the residents of Kaer Morhen. It wasn't going to be an overnight solution, they knew it wasn't going to be easy. But they were one small step closer to a safer, happier life and that was more than enough for them after years of despair.

[lazyliars]

The Quackity Meta: Justice without the Blindfold

[Anonymous asks: (DSMP) Somebody talk to me about Quackity and Eret’s character. I wanna talk about what Quackity’s views on power are with what he’s planning to do with Sam along with whatever he saw in the egg. I wanna talk about why Eret thinks reviving Wilbur is the best option for the sever to lead and their views on what a leader should be with them being the king of the Dream SMP. I wanna talk about Quackity planning to create a casino for the server to rise to the top. What does it mean to be king?]

[/rp. All mentions of dream smp members should be assumed as referencing the character, not the cc, unless specifically stated otherwise.]

At the heart of every conflict, if you look closely enough, you will find a similarity. Two contrasting ideals will reveal their own likeness, in the stage they play out their war – they both fight for the same result; to be known and followed and asserted, and in this they are the same. There would be no conflict if both sides shared nothing in common.

Lets talk about Quackity.

We'll gloss over a good deal of Quackity's history to get to the meat of this discussion, which involves Technoblade. But there are a a few lesser known facts about Quackity's early days on the server that are relevant to the discussion, like  that Quackity joined the server because of Tommy.

Namely, he joined for The Cartel, a short-lived organization comprised of him, Tommy, Tubbo and Jack Manifold, and their aims of obtaining power over the entire server by getting a monopoly on one object, the Phantom Membrane.

(Trivia: This is why Technoblade had to strike a deal with Tommy for the membranes – Phantoms are turned off on the Dream SMP now, so their monopoly actually ended up working. (Un)fortunately, Tommy traded nearly his whole supply for the priceless act of... making Techno scream really loud and talk in a funny voice. Worth it.)

However, Tommy's interest in the Cartel waned almost immediately, to Quackity's frustration. Tommy was constantly busy with his Vice Presidential duties in L'manberg. Quackity wasn't entirely left out, and he helped Tommy on multiple occaisions, but this was back in Wilbur's L'manberg, where non-europeans were strictly banned.

Quackity would slowly come to resent Tommy for this over time. He joined the server to be with him, took his side in nearly every conflict, including the ones that were L'manberg-oriented, and yet he wasn't allowed to be a citizen of his friend's own nation.

The resentment would reach a boiling point when Quackity discovered Wilbur's bid to consolidate power by running a sham election – with a one party system. Quackity challenged him, formed Swag 2020, and the rest is history...

The takeaway here is that from the start, Quackity has been shunted aside by people in power – Tommy, Wilbur, and then later, Schlatt. This wouldn't prevent him from executing his own immoral power grabs, but that trait – the distaste for people with power holding it over him, is one that would stick around, and become even more prominent later... Quackity has more reason than most to hate tyranny.

But “Tyranny” Is a word thrown around on the SMP often enough, that it's probably up there with “betrayal” and “pop-off” in total wordcount. But few use it more commonly, or more persuasively, than Quackity and Technoblade.

This begs the question: what is Tyranny in a M/inec/raft role play, and why do Quackity and Technoblade both detest it so much while still hating each other?

Well, after a moderate amount of research, I have discovered the following:

Tyranny is complicated.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

...No, but really. Tyranny is very old concept. The words originates in, you guessed it, Ancient Greece, but conceptually, the idea goes waaaay back.

Now, that last thing I wanna do is give anyone a history lesson. I'd suck at it and I haven't done that much research. But the takeaway here is that “Tyranny” has come to be defined in fairly vague terms. We'll look at a few different ones in reference to the SMP.

Oxford dictionary defines a Tyrant as: A cruel and oppressive ruler. / a person exercising power or control in a cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary way. / (especially in ancient Greece) a ruler who seized power without legal right.

Lets look at the first and last definitions:  A cruel and oppressive ruler; (especially in ancient Greece) a ruler who seized power without legal right.

By these definitions, one could call Quackity tyrannical during his term as Tubbo's VP. He exercises the power granted to him as a government official to spearhead an operation to execute a man without trial. He violently invades the home of a citizen and then puts said man on house arrest, and to subdue the target of this operation he threatens a pet (-a vague but ostensibly severe criminal act in the terms of m/inec/raft specifically-) and then reveals to Techno that the reason he's doing this actually has nothing to do with the crime Techno was accused of, and it is instead a ploy to consolidate power.

Quackity is leveraging his position in the government to amass power, and using that power to harm individuals (Philza and Techno,) in process. As an added bonus, his position in that government came from usurping Schlatt, a legitimately elected official. Thus, Quackity is a Tyrant.

But there, in Schlatt's government is where things get complicated.

Quackity had some power in Schlatt's government. Not the same kind as he did in New L'manberg, but arguably a more unrestrained form – Quackity could basically do whatever he wanted, as long as it pleased Schlatt. In New L'manberg, Quackity needed to convince not only Tubbo, but the rest of the cabinet whenever he wanted to initiate a new project. New L'manberg, while still maintaining a ruling class, had a far more equal distribution of power than Manberg did. It was still democratic.

And while we're on the topic of Quackity as Schlatt's VP, Quackity had almost instant regret the day of the election. He was undermining Schlatt from the start, questioning him, trying to stop Tubbo from breaking the signs that read “if you break this sign, you hate your viewers” and freeing Niki when Schlatt trapped her in Jack Manifold's house and then whispering at her to run.

Quackity only fell into step with Schlatt in the aftermath of Election day, when he saw a major desire fulfilled; the tearing down of L'manberg's walls. These walls were a symbol of L'manberg's isolationist roots that prevented Quackity from joining in the first place. It was one of his biggest promises whilst campaigning.

From this point on, up until the festival, Quackity would be in support of Schlatt. The things he did try to push back on would be downplayed and ignored, if not scorned. This period of time is difficult to pick apart where Quackity's personal morals and ideals begin, and Schlatt's influence ends. The steadily worsening abusive dynamic between them doesn't help this vagueness, either.

I point this out because I've seen people conflate Quackity's abuse at the hands of Schlatt, and his willingness to participate in Schlatt's rule as being of the same root; implying that Quackity only followed Schlatt because he was in an abusive relationship with him, when the reality is far more complicated. Yes, their relationship was a major factor in Quackity's actions, but downplaying his ambition and willingness to accept Schlatt's Tyranny when it helped him realize his own goals does a disservice to the nuance of Manberg-era Quackity.

What all of this points to is an individual who has a strong, some might say defining sense of Justice, yet also a susceptibility to Temptation. Quackity’s experiences with disenfranchisement by Wilbur and Tommy, coupled with his Dark horse victory in the election paints him in a sympathetic, even heroic light. But the way he slowly relinquished more and more power to Schlatt, and ended up indulging in the fruits of tyrannical gains when they proved they could get him what he wanted.

...

So, back to the question... Is Quackity a tyrant?

The answer to that question is a solid “mmmmaaaybe??”

It comes back to what you consider Tyranny. Quackity has never held complete power – he has always, always been scrapping and struggling and fighting to get a foothold in the machinations of the truly powerful, like Dream and Wilbur. He's very much an underdog story.

On the other hand, the times that Quackity has held positions of power, he's done some questionable shit. People like to forget that, while he was deeply disturbed by it, he wasn't exactly against Tubbo's execution at the festival. Putting Phil on house arrest and executing Techno without trial also count against him.

Like most things on the SMP, it's just complicated. Quackity's motivations run deep and aren't always obvious. He doesn't seem to want to hurt people just for the sake of hurting them, or use his power in arbitrary ways, but when he can personally justify it, the sacrifice of his moral integrity gets severe sometimes.

What it looks like is that more than anything else, Quackity wants control, and to never, ever lose his own autonomy. That is also why he despises Technoblade.

...And here we are at the Technoblade part of this meta, AKA the MASSIVE BULK OF THIS ANALYSIS. Which you can read HERE, because it’s too long to fit in just this one post.

[thetrashthatsmilesback]

I’ve never actually talked about the Bakugou Mitsuki thing...

“So like, I’ve been following BNHA casually for years. I never really tend to mention anime even though its a special interest of mine and has been for years, so I didn’t talk about this at the height of the “is Mitsuki a bad parent” debate, but frankly I have opinions on this and they can be summed up with: people on both sides are all partially correct, so lets get into it. (under the cut)

The TL;DR:

Even if what Mitsuki does/how she acts cannot be classified as abuse, it is still toxic and would be harmful/traumatizing to have a child around

Mitsuki does clearly love Katsuki from what we can see in her words, but that doesn’t excuse and toxic/abusive behaviors displayed

Katsuki’s behavior aligns perfectly with exact outcomes that clinical findings have found are common in those who were raised with corporal punishment

Even if corporal punishment does not meet the qualifications for abuse, it is directly linked to aggression, mood disorders, and personality disorders

Mitsuki’s treatment instilled Katsuki’s ideas of societal placements

Mitsuki’s yelling at her husband and use of violence (hitting, yelling, breaking tables) is clearly an attitude that Katsuki picked up and would be harmful/traumatizing for a child even if it isn’t deemed abusive

I’m going to start this off by just saying that A) saying the series already has an abusive parent in Endeavor is one of the weakest excuses I’ve ever seen for why Mitsuki can’t be interpreted as abusive/toxic and I will not be comparing them and B) the way the Todoroki family was handled also wasn’t great, so that’s not even a good argument (oops)

So the debate started primarily because of her hitting him and victim blaming, but the victim blaming could be a translation issue so I will not be addressing that. Frankly, while there is evidence that corporeal punishment should not be used on children as it can lead to problems later in life, I don’t believe it is enough to constitute abuse. This is where the people who see her as not abusive are correct - its not a good form of punishment, but it isn’t necessarily abuse. Where I actually believe an opinion can be formed is in chapter 207 where we’re shown his actual family dynamics.

I’m going to preface this by saying that just because something is a joke doesn’t mean that it can’t provide actual insight into a situation. The three strips were meant to double as both jokes, and a glimpse at what Katsuki’s home life is actually like. And, in my opinion, its at the very least toxic if not fully abusive.

Mitsuki screaming at her husband is a toxic way to communicate. I get that yelling is the “Bakugou Thing” and its supposed to be funny, but it does set a precedent for exactly how the household operates. Masaru is bullied into submission by his wife (as we see in the third strip with “so you just weren’t able to reject her/you weren’t able to say no” based on the translation), and his wife and son both go at each other aggressively. I actually wanted to bring attention to the “Big Mother Crush” in “Argument.” Katsuki is blowing up the walls, and Mitsuki is breaking the coffee table. Now, Katsuki is a violent 16 year old with a dangerous quirk, so obviously someone needs to make sure he doesn’t harm himself or others, but that isn’t what Mitsuki is doing. She isn’t making any moves to deescalate the situation, and Masaru is hiding behind the couch, so he too is clearly making no effort to attempt to deescalate or calm down his child or wife.

The fact that Mitsuki has a name for the move where she breaks a solid wood coffee table leads me to believe that this is a common occurrence, or at least one that has happened at least one time prior. This puts Katsuki saying “I was raised with violence” and “knowing his place” into a different light as he didn’t always have the level of power he now does. If Mitsuki’s anger problems always led to such violence, then yeah, a small kid could be frightened by this. Maybe its not abusive since she didn’t throw him into the table, but it can certainly be traumatizing to a child.

And that brings me to the next point. Bakugou has a level of distrust in people that is not normal for his age. I don’t just mean at UA, I specifically mean the infamous bridge/log scene. A normal four/five year old would not assume that Help = Being Looked Down Upon. That isn’t a reaction that a healthy child would have.

So, back to the “is she abusive?” point. In my opinion, it doesn’t really matter what the answer to that question is, because no matter what she does to Katsuki himself, it is still an extremely toxic environment to be in. Speaking from experience, even if physically nothing is happening, living in a space with someone who could explode into anger at any second is terrifying, especially if you’re a little kid. I don’t doubt she loves Katsuki. I don’t doubt that she cares deeply for him, and that she did have a hard time with him because yeah, he’s a difficult kid with a quirk that could cause severe damage. However, I also understand that things don’t exist in a vacuum.

The Bakugou family dynamic is obvious: Mitsuki is at the top, then Katsuki, then Masaru (though it could be Masaru then Katsuki. I don’t think I’ve seen enough to note the order for sure). Then, in the Licensing Classes Bakugou mentions that there must be a hierarchy and they have to use violence to change the pecking order, and suddenly his treatment of Izuku makes more sense. He saw Izuku as below him in hierarchy, having been raised in a house where the parents were not equals, and tried to reinforce it how his mother reinforces his father’s place. (This does NOT excuse his actions. Bakugou is my favorite character after Shinso, but I will never excuse his bullying of Izuku. I just like to try and find explanations for things).

Then we see his mother dealing with her stress over his kidnapping by hitting him, her anger as his outbursts by breaking a table, and her frustration at her husband’s mumbling by screaming at him: these are all reactions Katsuki also displays in response to frustration, stress, and anger. It puts the line “I was raised with violence” into perspective because, from what we’re shown, he was taught that all emotions can be solved by reinforcing the hierarchy or by being so loud/violent that it gets pushed away. Emotions other than rage don’t fix anything in his eyes because that’s how his household works.

Encouraging beating children because it’s “How He Was Raised”: this is an interesting point that I actually think about a lot because its such a common thought process. Like “I was spanked as a kid and turned out fine!” You Want To Hit Children Jim. You Clearly Have Some Problems Stemming From It. Now, again, I am not saying that spankings are the same as abuse, because they’re not exactly the same, but they are harmful, and are often justified in ways similar to abuse tactics. “““Punishments”“““ like getting hit with a wooden spoon or spanked are incredibly common, but like, most of the time what is the actual lesson taught. Most people assume its “act that way again and you’ll be hurt,” but if the child doesn’t fully know why what they did is wrong, then it is pointless. Instead the example being set is “you made me angry, so I am going to hurt you in return,” and this aligns exactly with what we see in Katsuki. Ignoring all other moral implications to get back to my meta, we see, explicitly, that Katsuki’s solution to most perceived wrongings is to attack. Frankly, I see my younger self in this a lot.

When a kid is spanked, or hit with a spoon/belt, the reasoning is almost always “if you hadn’t done X I wouldn’t have hurt you,” many times not explaining why exactly X is wrong. This is the problem with corporal punishment. These articles can be read for more information on the exact problems with Corporal Punishment, but the long story short is that Katsuki’s actions align perfectly with someone who not only experienced it, but experienced it without any explanations behind the ““““punishments.”“““ (long story short: don’t fucking hit kids Jesus). X X X X X The most important quotes from them are:

“it can lead to bullying, drug violence, and other problem behaviors that rely on having power over someone else.”

“Ten of the associations were negative such as increased child aggression and antisocial behavior.”

“I was very surprised to find that corporal punishment affects the same brain areas that are affected by severe physical and sexual abuse... the magnitude was lower, but to see that spanking impacts a child’s brain development in the same way was a big surprise.”

“Children who were physically punished were more likely to endorse hitting as a means of resolving their conflicts with peers and siblings”

“Harsh physical punishment in the absence of child mistreatment is associated with mood disorders, anxiety disorders, substance abuse/dependence, and personality disorders in a general population sample.”

I actually want to draw attention to this particular quote --> they have the phrase “in the absence of child mistreatment” so as to clearly state that these are results of Corporal Punishment that were not classified as abuse cases.

I am going to at some people who might be able to spread this a bit and are blogs I look up to. If any of them want me to untag them I will right away!

@here-to-protect-my-son​ @fuckendeavorandmitsuki​ @evilkitten3​

[darklingichor]

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir **MAJOR SPOILERS**

So, this is a first, I've never written a revisit this fast.

I do often read or listen to an especially good book, again, right after I finish it. Usually because I can't get into another book until I do.

I did it with Lamb, and I did it with the Martian.

This one is going to be chock full of spoilers, I really want to analyze the main characters in this book, and I can't do that without going into details. This is why I marked the hell out of this.

Project Hail Mary is even better the second time around. This is often the case. Books are like soup. The leftovers from the fridge are often even better than when you had it the first time.

*SPOILERS* *SERIOUSLY SPOILERS TURN BACK NOW IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS BOOK* *SPOILERS* *THE REST OF THIS RAMBLE WILL RUIN THE BOOK* *SPOILERS*

Okay, so run down.

The book opens with our main character waking up to an annoying computer asking him basic math questions. This is detecting cognitive function, that's my guess anyway.

Our character quickly discovers a few things. First, he's in a room with robot arms tending to him, including unhooking him from various life support systems as it figures out that he is awake and functioning. He's not alone in the room, there are two others, but they are long dead. And he has no idea, who he is, where he is, or why he's there.

What follows for a little while is what I would call a psychological screwball comedy. It takes him several days to work out that his name is Ryland Grace and he is a microbiologist PhD who had a falling out with the academic community and found his calling as a Jr. High science teacher. Though exploration, experiments, and memory flashes, he works out that he is on a spaceship, the corpses were his crewmates, and he is on a mission to Tau Ceti to save earth from an alien algae like creature, called Astropgage, that is dimming the sun and setting earth on the course to an ice age that will begin to wipe out humanity in 30 years. Tau Ceti, which is 12 light years away from earth, is resistant to this energy sucking algae.

We get all the backstory of how he became a crew member aboard the ship Hail Mary, in flashbacks as his memories return. A big memory that returns? Project Hail Mary is a suicide mission, he will not be going home.

In the meantime, he is slowly trying to figure out how to save earth, while he does this, he sees a very weird spaceship and meets an intelligent alien being. This being (Grace calls him Rocky) comes from a world (Earid) that is in the same situation as Earth. Together, Grace and Rocky have to work out how to save both of their home worlds.

Ryland Grace is a complex character, he’s very very different from Mark Watney (I haven't read Artimis so I can't make comparisons to those characters).

The Martian points out that Astronauts are inherently noble, willing to risk their lives for science and a good cause.

Grace is not an astronaut. That's not to say that he isn't a good person, just that he is an average person. He can be all at once self-sacrificing and selfish.

Early on he is drafted into the research team on what would be called Astropgage as a science expert by Eva Strat, a woman in charge of figuring out what is going on and how to stop it.

Once he was released from his part in this research, he goes back to teaching, only to be struck by the fact that his students would be in their early forties when all hell breaks loose, and that they might die. He then goes back to Strat and demands to be part of the research again.

This back and forth happens a few times in the story. In fact, it becomes a big part of it. See, the crew of the Hail Mary were put into comas to ensure that they would not go nuts and kill each other on the 12 light-year (four years from their perspective) journey, a medical company discovered that 1 in 7000 people have the genes to survive long comas and still function when they wake up. Grace is one of those people, but he is not volunteering for this mission. It's not that he doesn't care, or even that he doesn't want to help, it's that he's scared. And who wouldn't be? But honestly? I think Grace has imposture syndrome and is generally very sensitive. He realized that his kids would suffer, after starting to teach a class, that speed him to become a part of Strat's team again. Events happen that lead him to being the only logical candidate for the science expert aboard the Hail Mary. He refused, Strat basically kidnaps him, sets the computer induce amnesia in only Grace and plunks him on board.

Before she does this, she harshly calls Grace out.

“Do you think I don’t know you, Dr. Grace?!” she yelled. “You’re a coward and you always have been. You abandoned a promising scientific career because people didn’t like a paper you wrote. You retreated to the safety of children who worship you for being the cool teacher. You don’t have a romantic partner in your life because that would mean you might suffer heartbreak. You avoid risk like the plague.” (pg. 392 Kindle Edition)

This all seems to be true, but we don't know Grace's full story. Other than a mention of one girlfriend in college, and brief mentions of friends, There is nothing in the book about his life before he started teaching. This could be because the amnesia has left those things fuzzy, but in my head, it's because he doesn't want to think about it. Maybe he had a bad family life, maybe he had *no* family life, maybe he had an early tragedy. Maybe he realized his short comings and that, no matter his talent, he just didn't have the temperament for acidemia.

He does like being the cool teacher, he does say he likes being looked up to, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing. He's a *good* teacher.

I had cool teachers before I switched to home school. They weren't all good. I had one that would literally just let us mess around during class because they didn't want to actually grade papers. Cool to a kid? Absolutely! Good for education? Not on your life.

Grace isn't like that, he loves science, he loves teaching, and the kids are learning.

He doesn't like animal testing, he's emotional at the fragility of humanity. In short, in his quiet way he loves life.

He leaves his comfort zone to be a part of Strat's team because he knows he's good at what he does and he couldn't look at his students and knowing they could die when he could help prevent it. That doesn't mean he thinks he will be Earth's savior, just that he can help.

He's unwilling to die.

Usually in books and movies, this translates to coward, but really? It's not. Most people wouldn't volunteer for a suicide mission, especially one this pressure filled. "So, we need you to go into a coma, go to a different solar system, save your whole species, and then kill yourselves so you won't starve to death. We good? Cool."

You can't fault a living being for wanting to live. Plus, the other crew members had time to think it through, really decide, make peace with the decision and *then* carry through with the training. Grace? He was given the training, but Strat always said it was for the science of the mission. She was a little like Dumbledore, in that she was training him in case he had to go, but never told him it was a possibility. When it became clear that he was the choice for the vacant spot, he was given less than five hours to decide, and then was told he had no choice.

He makes noble choices throughout the book, but that one choice was not his own, because Strat was given absolute power and used it absolutely.

I can't say that Strat is a villain, either. She was elected to save earth and given the power to cut through any red tape. Handed all this authority, she doesn't become corrupt, she uses this power ruthlessly, but always with the only goal being Save Earth, full stop, that's it. And even as Grace, understandably terrified, yells at her she tells him that she likes him, that she knows that he is a good man, that he will give this  his all. She doesn't *want* to send this unwilling and scared man on a suicide mission. She *has* to. Strat is also complex, she is not nonsense and is committed to her role in saving humanity. I like the reason she gives as to why, toward the end of the book. She got her undergrad degree in history. She takes to heart the old saying that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

The climate scientists and their models assumed survival based on the idea that all countries will work together for the common goal. However, Strat points out that history shows that that ideal scenario, is not likely to work. She says that most wars, up until very recently, were fought over food, and resulting in famine.  As the sun loses energy and crops fail, there will be wars, and they will be over food. And that is what she is desperately trying to avoid – the horror of history brought to the modern day.

I started as a history major, and history is interwoven into anthropology – I understand this perspective.

I am not going to get into politics, but I’ve experienced the agonizing frustration of watching history repeat itself, more than once in the last couple of years. Guessing at how something will probably go due to how something lines up with a similar event in the past and knowing that if someone in power would just listen it might turn out different, or that the eventual problems could at least be prepared for, and watch it happen anyway and everyone act surprised. It’s enough to make you pull your hair out.

Strat has the knowledge and the authority to act on it, I can’t say, that in her position I wouldn’t act the same way.

That is the major difference between Grace and Strat: viewpoint. By necessity of her position and by virtue of her education, she sees the big picture clearly, Grace, however, doesn’t. He’s a microbiologist, his entire career and education is looking closely at the small things and how they would translate to big things. He studies the universe by studying the smallest things in it. It is no surprise that he would need the smaller things to make the bigger things to snap into focus. When he was forced to start research on astrophage, it wasn’t until he was faced with the small scale (his kids could suffer) to make him see his part in the grand scheme of things. Strat is right, he does avoid risk, because he’s avoiding pain, he doesn’t let things in because he feels too much. Yes, the realization about the kids, puts steel in his spine, but not before he narrowly avoids a break down. For Grace, seeing Strat’s point of view, without being able to work it though to his scale, is like yelling at someone standing too close to a mountain for not being able to see the peak. It just can’t be done from where they are.

It makes me wonder, had Strat been up front with Grace, would he have willingly gone? It takes him a while to come around to the idea of helping the project in the first place. If he were told sooner, given some time, had been able to go home, and think, I feel like he would have gone. Something would have set him on the course. Maybe it would have been one of his former students, telling him about their plans for trying out for high school track, or going to college,  maybe he would have gone to his usual cafe for breakfast and found out that one of the waitresses had just gotten engaged, maybe he would be told these things and see the fear and desperate need to keep life as normal as possible in the person's eyes, and then he would decide, if, on the off chance  no one else could go, he would. Until he remembers his refusal, nearly at the end of the book, he accepts quickly that he volunteered for the mission. Of course, that could have been simply because he couldn't imagine someone forcing someone into something like that, but even as his memories and sense of self come back to him, he doesn't have a sense of terror or blind panic at the fact that he's not going home. I would think that if his unwillingness were something hard wired into his personality, he would know soon after remembering who he is, that he would have never considered being a part of the voyage.

So, I think, had Strat told Grace early on that he had the coma resistant genes and that there was a small possibility that he may have to be the backup for the backup, and then allowed him to come to terms with it, he would have gone without the drama. Don’t get me wrong, there is the possibility that he would have run off and had to have been hunted down, but I think, just like when he went to his class and saw his students, something would have made his conscious kick in, and he would have come back.

That might have been interesting, him running scared for a little while and then coming back? Might have given a little more background into why he is the way he is. But that’s not really what this book is about, I think it’s a forgone about conclusion that Grace would have helped, but what’s really interesting is how Grace and Rocky work together.

Rocky is cool! I love that Weir didn’t go the easy route with the creation of an alien character. Rocky is no Roswell gray with a humanoid form. No no, for our sympathetic alien, we have a spider like creature with liquid mercury for blood who “sees” with echolocation and speaks in musical notes. And it works!!

Rocky is expressive and funny and is great with Grace. It’s hilarious, other than the Russian scientist on Project Hail Mary, he doesn’t get along with anyone as well as he does with Rocky, out of everyone in the book, Grace connects most with a spider shaped rock being, he has to make a computer program to speak with.

Rocky is a tad steadier than Grace, but that makes sense simply because of the two, Rocky knew what he was getting into, and Eridens not only have more time before their star dims to the point of causing a problem, but also, they live a long long time, so, Rocky knows he is going home. But the steadiness is also built into his personality. He and Grace are both analytical problem solvers, but seeing that Rocky is an engineer, his focus is to fix things. A problem arises, and his first reaction is “I will fix that.” He won’t be dissuaded until he has all avenues exhausted.

Grace has a habit, early on, of moping for a little while before rallying and getting to work. His interaction with Rocky brings that pouting time down a bit, and he even pulls Rocky out of a slump a time or two.

The relationship between these two is interesting because Grace says flat out that he is not a social person, he feels awkward in groups with people. But he easily communicates with his students, and he easily communicates with Rocky. Rocky is not childlike, but he does have something in common with the students, Grace, like any teacher, teaches his students, and learns from them. Grace teaches Rocky and learns from him. Grace is comfortable with this sort of interaction; with his students this is where the relationship stops. With Rocky, it doesn’t have that boundary. By virtue of the fact that both are alone in space and crave interaction, they talk a lot. Also, activities that Grace is use to doing alone, Rocky’s culture requires to be done in pairs. The biggest: Sleeping.

Eridens do not sleep without another person watching them. So, he insists that he watch Grace sleep and that Grace watches him. It is not expressly said what other things Eridens don’t do alone, but it is implied (at least to me) that they work better in pairs or in groups. This is true of humans as well, but Grace in particular is a loner, even as he complains that science doesn’t happen with one scientist doing the work (and he’s right) but he does work alone even when the astrophage project opened up to more people, the feeling I get is that he still does most of his work alone unless asked to teach others, or forced to come along by Strat.

Grace quickly becomes acclimated to Rocky’s way of doing things, in an odd way, Grace is more comfortable being Eriden, than he is being human. And I really think that this is the crux of their relationship.

I read somewhere recently that family isn’t necessarily blood, but who you would bleed for.

I feel that Rocky and Grace would sacrifice themselves for their respective home worlds, but they will bleed for each other. Grace must go to a different star system to find family, which is actually really cool to me, because the story manages to have Grace have a story of growth and even a quiet redemption arc all with the background noise of a potential double Armageddon, and we manage not to lose sight of any of these elements. Add to this that the book will make you laugh, cry and think all at once. I love the Martian, but I honestly think this one is better!