#and while he sort of is in an impossible positions for many reasons- at least when it comes to explicitly acknowledging cas' sexuality with

[blanketforcas]

i do feel certain any potential future spn revival will include diversity (tw and walker/walker:independence both were/are diverse in their own ways) but i hate that a not-so-small part of me can’t help but wonder how that will — or possibly won’t — extend to castiel and his canonical queerness. thee dencon ‘21 j2 panel still lingers in my brain...

and even though i don’t need them to neither of j2 have ever actually acknowledged the fact that castiel is queer, and they are the ones who want to have creative control and executive produce the next spn continuation.

that said, i feel pretty confident in saying that misha most likely wouldn’t return if anyone tried to erase that part of castiel’s character, and they’d be absolutely foolish to try and make it without him.

yeah well, the good thing is (at least i genuinely believe): they can't get away with not addressing the confession and they can't get away with not addressing it in a positive way. it'd be too big of a pr disaster

so with that, any naysayers re castiel (and dean's!) queerness will get a punch in the face

but i do feel you nonny cause dencon wasn't great and while that was mainly jared's fault, jensen did do a poor job of salvaging that situation (not that it's his job to clean up jared's mess but ykwim). however! i do think he's learned better ways to approach it. and i do think he cares. and- okay imma stop here cause otherwise i'll go on a tangent that will confuse everyone lol. i think if you want to know my slightly judgy-but-also-hopeful thoughts on all that, this crack video sums it up

anyways. i do think jensen sees cas as queer, i think he cares about the importance of his story and i also think he cares about misha too much to fuck that up in a big way.

[lemon-russ]

here's your smut you filthy animals /s (like i wasn't the one specifically writing this for that exact purpose), Finally put these nerds in a Situation (tm)

I make you read for it though. bone apple teeth.

Part 4/ ???

part:: 1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7

Cato Sicarius x F!Reader

CW: Rough angry sex, Cato being an emotionally constipated bully, mild descriptions of violence and injuries

Summary: Cato discovers a new emotion. it's horny! he's mad about it.

word count: 2,325 (I wrote this the same day as part 3, my boyfriend keeps being like 'Why Cato though??', the fool. he cannot understand the fleas.)

You decide that you must have angered the God Emperor of mankind. Maybe you used his name as a curse one too many times. Maybe he was upset with you because you failed his son Lord Guilliman in this mission. Either way, you certainly were being punished.

You lay on your back, staring at the rock ceiling above you, in the dust and dirt, drenched in other people's blood, in a once pretty gown now torn to the knees. And Cato was just sitting there, smiling for some reason.

“My neck feels fine.” you mumble. He has been actually quite concerned with you having some sort of spinal injury from the thunderhawk crash. You didn't want to think about why that made your stomach flutter a little. You did not want to have positive feelings about this ass hat of a man who got you into this whole mess in the first place.

Cato glances over at you, pursing his lips into a line. “Hmph. fine, let me look you over first though.” He says gruffly, scooting to lean over you. Blood rushes to your face as he gets a bit close, touching your neck and carefully moving your head. Your mind flashes with the image of him over you protecting you from the shots of the rebel guards, and then again of him shielding you during the crash. “You're okay- I got you”- Even through the speakers of his helmet, him saying that did something to you you did not want to unpack, especially not while he currently was gently inspecting your neck and shoulders, inches from your face.

He grunts. “I guess you seem okay, from what I can tell, but if you feel weird or you have random nerve pains, tell me- why do you look like that?” He says, sitting up and frowning in confusion at you. You frown back and sit up, “Look like what?” You force out, clearing your throat and trying to cool off. He narrows his eyes. “You were all pale, now you're all flushed.” he says, almost seeming suspicious.

He looks you up and down, eyeing your bruises and scrapes. “You should still lay down. And tell me if you're dizzy or something. You might have internal injuries and I can't know.” He says with an annoyed sigh. You knit your brow at his tone. “Are you... mad at me...?” You ask incredulously. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. How come you're so breakable? If you'd have worn some sort of armor, I wouldn't need to think about any of this. You are a being a huge pain in my ass.” He says exasperatedly.

You shake your head in disbelief. “I'm sorry that I'm not a superhuman mutant soldier like you?” You say annoyed. He huffs. “You could at least make my job easier and try a little harder not to die.” He stands and walks to the entrance of the cave, and if you didn't know better you'd call it sulking, the way he was sitting there with his arms crossed. By the throne he is insufferable.

You sigh and start gathering up some brush and leaves, then use it as a pillow so you can lay on your side facing away from him. “You are impossible.” You mumble. “I've done nothing to you, but you hate me for things I can't control.” You continue, crossing your arms and curling up a bit. He groaned. “You're the reason I had to even come here, I should be fighting on front lines right now, taking down Guilliman's enemies- but no, I'm babysitting you” He said, raising his voice a little.

You've just about had it with this rude, cocky, useless man child of an Astartes. You sit up and turn to him, matching his tone and volume “Then just go!” You snap. “I'd probably have better odds without you running in head first and fucking things up anyway! Go, call the ship and go home.”

His face contorts. “You'd die without me and you know it-” he growls, voice lower.

“Like you'd care if I did, you just don't want to get in trouble-” You yell, raising your voice more as you reach the end of your patience.

“That's not true!” He retorts, outright glaring at you now.

You glower back. “Of course it is- you don't care if I live or die! You just care about how it looks if you fail your mission!”

He growls through grit teeth, “That's not- I do care!” He yells, standing and glaring down at you. “I don't want you to die here, even if you are doing your damnedest to make sure this shithole rock is your grave!”

You flinch back at his shouting and towering over you. But you narrow your eyes at him anyway. “Bullshit.” you say in a low voice. “You don't care about anyone but you, Cato.”

He looks like it's taking everything to hold back his temper from actually losing his control. “I do care about you, you stupid, breakable, insufferable woman!” He shouted now. “I don't know why, especially because you're being a huge fucking pain in the ass right now, but I feel sick thinking about leaving you here to die, and I hate seeing you all beat up like this, and by the golden throne I can't get the image of you getting kicked by that pompous asshole out of my head-” He audibly snaps his mouth shut, gritting his teeth again and looking away.

You stare at him, shocked, mouth hanging open a little. Holy shit. You did not know how to process this. You really thought he didn't care if you lived or died, but... was all that protective stuff just him? Not just him doing his forced duty to protect you? You feel color creep up your cheeks.

He frowns at you. “No, stop that- don't give me that look. It's not like that.” He says in an exasperated, almost frantic tone.

You knit your brow and flatten your mouth to a line. “It kinda sounds like it's like that-”

“No, it's not” He raised his voice again, “That's baseline human nonsense, I'm evolved higher than- than that” He says, looking disgusted. “If anything you're like an especially pathetic stray dog. I pity you, more than anything, really.” He grumbles, fists tight at his side as he turns around to look out of the cave again.

You scowl. “Seriously? A stray dog?” you snap, flushing again. Stupid, why would you think he actually cared any amount-

He growls in frustration, “Emperor damn you, that’s not what I-” He lets out a frustrated noise, stomping up to you and pulling you to your feet, holding you by the shoulders. “Do you exist purely to infuriate me, woman?! We’re you created as a personal demon for me specifically?!” He snarls, teeth gritted and face holding back rage.

You scowl up at him still, “Funny, I was just asking myself what I did to upset the Emperor enough to be cursed to be stuck with you-!” You snap back, frustration at it’s peak.

He snarls, “Warp take you, you stupid, vapid, useless-” he snaps his mouth closed and grimaces, then does the last thing you expect. He pulls you off the ground by your shoulders and smashes his mouth to yours in what might be the worst, roughest kiss you ever have experienced. Your eyes widened and for a split second you could only freeze, stunned, but that quickly gave way to you melting in his hands, kissing him back.

Your back smacks against the stone wall of the cave- your head cushioned by Cato’s hand- and you can barely keep up with the sudden shift. You’re still so mad but for some reason it feel like the only thing you can do to stop being angry is fuck this stupid asshole until your mind goes blank. This stupid, hot, protective-

You gasp a bit as you hear the sound of plates hitting stone as Cato discards the more in the way pieces, mouth still holding yours hostage in an angry, needy kiss. He breaks away with a gasp just a second to growl at you, “Strip-” before capturing your lips again. You groan involuntarily, a shiver running right through you. You break and gasp in air, then frown. “Cato-” you say with a touch of exasperation. He frowns and glances down, realizing he has you completely pinned to the wall, preventing you from undressing. He grumbles, “Useless woman, I have to always do everything for you-” He huffed angrily.

His hand- now free of it’s gauntlets for your safety- snakes up your thigh and under your dress, finding the edge of your panties and swiftly ripping them off. Actually ripping them. “Damn it Cato-” you snap in annoyance as he inspects the remains of your lacey underwear. He chuckles at your annoyed scowl, tossing the scraps aside. “By the Throne, that angry face- like a petulant kitten” he rumbles a heady chuckle as he hooks your leg over his arm. You blush and gasp, torn between angry and being putty in his hands. “It makes me want to torture you more just so you keep making that pouting face-” He smirked, eyeing you like prey. You frown, biting your lip. “Insufferable ass” you mumble as you grab his face in your hands and kiss him hard again- properly this time, stupid marine doesn’t even know how to kiss.

He growls into your mouth, mimicking how you push your tongue behind his teeth. At least he’s a quick learner. You shiver again as you feel his other hand slip between your thighs, and groan into the kiss as he roughly runs his massive finger between your lips. He breaks the kiss again, grinning smugly at you. “Already so wet? If you had a crush on me, you could have just admitted it” he teases, making you somehow more annoyed and more horny. You catch his mouth again, taking your anger out on his tongue, and he groans and shifts your weight.

You feel something massive pressing against your entrance, and freeze. Holy throne, that can’t possibly- you gasp and see stars as he immediately hilts into you, grasping at his shoulders for anything to ground you. You can only make a strangled moan as he stretches you, gritting against the pain and pleasure. He actually frowns a bit, scrunching his brow. “Oh, uh, too fast…?” he asks sincerely. By the golden throne you are going to strangle this stupid man. “Yeah-” you groan out, and he sighs and holds still, letting you adjust. “Seriously? Is every part of you so weak and breakable?” he says like it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world to not actually impale you.

You scowl at him, but it doesn’t have the same bite when you’re shuddering around him, dripping and panting and by the throne he was so hard- you inadvertently moan and shiver, and he takes that as good enough to start bucking up into you. “F-finally-” he grunts, but again, the bite was softened by his shuddering gasps. “throne you’re tight-” He groans, curling around you and bracing his elbow against the wall by your head, his own head resting on your shoulder as he bounces you.

Your mind starts to go blank, all you can feel is him stretching you around him over and over, all you can hear is your mixed panting and moaning and the wet slapping of his hips meeting yours. He picks up the pace and inhales a sharp breath through his teeth, “Fuck-” he gasps, lips attacking your neck. In between giving you hickies- damn it Cato, you have shit to do and now you’re going to have to cover those- he starts panting your name in a gravely, heady voice, which wipes out your complaints immediately. You gasp his name in return, desperately rocking your hips against his thrusts as you feel your body start to coil with heat and flutter around him. “C-Cato-” you groan, “I’m close-”

He growls at that, and straight up bites your shoulder, making you moan and shiver. “F-Finally-” he growls, “You take so f-fucking long-” he grunts, a hand slipping between your legs and finding your clit roughly- albeit with a lot of fumbling and cursing on his part, he had to actually look down to get there- but he smashes his thumb in rough circles on it, making you cry out and see stars. You don’t even have the wherewithal to be annoyed with him leaving more marks on you.

He rumbles against your neck as he bites and sucks up and down it, “Come.” he demands, “Come for me, I got you- let go-” he growls between love bites. You’re almost mad at yourself that you comply, not logically liking being ordered around but when he says I got you like that you melt anyways. Your mind goes blank and it’s all you can do to just hold onto him as you come, soaking him and shaking, hands desperately grasping at the back of his armor. “Cato- Cato-” you gasp weakly.

He growls again and slams into you faster, and in the back of your sex drunk mind you dread how you’re going to feel tomorrow. He grunts your name, then catches your lips in a kiss again, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he moans and hilts into you- well, as much as actually fits- and you moan with him as he thrusts a couple more times, hard, and feel him come in you in a few jerking motions. He nearly drops you, breaking the kiss to lean his head back, groaning, then stumbles back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. You try and catch yours too, mind hazy and body weak.

Cato chuckles a little, smiling down at you. “Mmf… Guess your squishy, weak body is useful for something after all.” he grumbles breathlessly.

By the holy golden throne of the Emperor, you are going to kill this man.

[josphitia]

Josie's Cow HRT Journey, part 4 - The Endo

It has been a rough few weeks since my interaction with that “therapist.” I withdrew into myself, into reading stories of girls getting their bodily wishes fulfilled through magical means. If I couldn't achieve this in real life, I could at least live it vicariously. Jojer was comforting me best he could; and he bought me prosthetic horns to wear around the house. As nice a gesture as it was, any shifting in their positions just signaled to my brain in flashing neon what it was I lacked.

I found a group online, an old school IRC chat mostly for girls to commiserate on what they felt denied to them. I learned all sorts of new terms, a myriad of words to describe ourselves, that only had one real objective: To pick at our emotional scabs. To promote a bleeding of the heart, a pain that reminded us of what we longed for and convinced ourselves we would never be. We were a commune of depression.

I logged on one day to the sight of a well-trodden series of texts. The same handful of sentences each beginning with the same 3 letter word: Why. “Why can't my body be like hers?” “Why can't I have the right hormones?” “Why can't society let us be who we are?” Etc, etc. The only thing I didn't see was a person who was the closest thing to a friend I had there. I assumed it was just another particularly bad day for her and began to write my own melancholic diatribes to the chat.

But, another day went by. The space was lonelier without her, the one true connection I had made even in a corner of the internet as dour as this. And then another day, and a week. Another week. I began to fear the worst. That she had taken a journey so many of us considered or had even attempted. We had exchanged emails once, for plans that would fall through like so many others. I wanted, needed to know if she was safe. I opened my client and wrote three simple, impossible to misinterpret words: “Are you okay?”

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

*Beep*

“RE: Hey” was the name of the email I received. She was okay! My heart felt the first pangs of relief in weeks. Her message had apologies sprawled throughout, but there was also a sense of contentment in her words. She was excited, she was hopeful, and she soon disclosed the reason why: She had found a new therapist. Not the man who had taken away my very hope for the future, but a woman who actually listened. Who offered genuine advice. A woman who was not a barrier to treatment but rather a guide TO that treatment.

In the final paragraph, as if answering my eager question prophetically, she wrote the therapist’s email. The last thing my friend wrote was yet another apology, but this one for something she was going to do, not a past infraction. She wanted to start her new life without the cumbersomes of her current. That she was performing a purge of her online identity, and that despite our camaraderie, I was being purged as well.

As much as the feeling of abandonment stung, I felt that I had gained something far greater: A second chance at the future I longed for. The future I desperately needed. The future that had already been snatched away from me once. I had hope again.

I emailed the therapist the next morning and stalked my email account for any activity. Finally, after a day at work of checking my phone every minute, I received her reply. While she was not in my state, she would be able to counsel me through a Telehealth appointment. She gave me her days of availability and I chose the soonest one, giving no regard to the fact I would have to leave work early. Like a stubborn bandaid, I needed this to be over quickly and with one decisive action. I would know tomorrow whether I had finally found my path towards happiness or if the waves of my future would crash violently against the shore.

The appointment had started off like so many of my online chats did: The unloading of emotions regarding men who wronged us. While these men had different names and faces, their profession was the same: Therapist, if in name only. My new doctor asked about my previous experiences trying to get onto AnimalHRT and like a flood the emotions rushed forth. When I stopped, she had but one thing to say: “Yeah, that guy sounds like a prick. He's woefully outdated on standards and practices. I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

She understood. A medical professional not only understood the pain I was going through but was sympathetic. She wanted to help me. It was a foreign experience, but one I welcomed wholeheartedly.

“So, tell me about yourself. I need to assess you but I want to stress this is merely a formal process. There are no wrong answers. When did you first feel that you were a cow?”

“I don't know… I learned it was a possibility only recently, but it feels disingenuous to say I only wanted to be a cow a few months ago… I've known I was different from other girls… different from boys… ever since I was a child. I thought it was just because I'm trans. But I don't know if I ever had the thought ‘I’m a cow’ before this year. I can point to a number of habits and signs I've noticed. That I always want something on my head, such as sunglasses, where my horns should be. That shoes have never fit right. That I've been vegan for years… But it feels insulting to cows themselves to say these things make me a cow… I'm sorry, I'm wasting your time…”

“Hey, hey. It's okay. You're not wasting anything, let alone my time. I promise, there are no wrong answers. What you describe is very similar to many girls, and boys, and others, have confided in me. Especially the diet part, you'd be surprised how many Otherkin and/or Therian have diets similar to their species before they start their transition.”

I wiped the liquid growing at either sides of my eyes with my shirt sleeve: “Really?”

“Really. You're normal, Josie. You may not be a normal that people think about every day, but you are doing nothing wrong. You're feeling nothing wrong. You are who you are; and it's my duty, my privilege, to help you realize this and to help you along whatever path your transition takes. I want to help you.”

“Thank you… And, what were those names you used for people like me?”

“Oh, Otherkin and Therian?”

“Yeah”

“They're the umbrella terms used for people who are a nonhuman species either physically, mentally, or spiritually. In the broad strokes, Therian are people who are a species of nonhuman animal. Otherkin are people who are a species of nonhuman animal, or creature, which is usually more mythological. There's a lot of overlap between the two. While many people are one or the other, it's also very common for people to be a mix or blending of the two.”

And again, realization. Like a strike of lightning in the back of my mind: There's words for people like me. Not a derogative or a slur, but actual, genuine medical terms.

“I think I have enough to write your official diagnosis and letter for hormones, Josie.”

“Wait, really?? I don't need to do anything else? I don't need to… prepare for my future…?”

“We are preparing for your future. You've clearly thought about this and like I said, there were no wrong answers. It's not my job to gatekeep but to guide you. I practice informed consent, and you're informed and consenting. I'll begin writing your letter and you should receive it in your email by tomorrow, with a physical copy arriving in about a week’s time. Now, do you have an Endocrinologist lined up?”

“No… I thought it would be premature to do so before knowing how this appointment would go…”

“I understand, I'll send you the information of Endocrinologists that handle AnimalHRT.”

“Thank you so much, I don't know what to say other than thank you… This appointment went so much better than I ever dreamed it could! Thank you!”

“You're welcome, Josie. Now, when would you like to schedule your next appointment?”

_________________________________

“Josie? The doctor will see you now. Right this way.”

I walked through the sterile hallway of the endocrinologist’s office. I was guided into a private room when, before I could sit, a tall woman in a lab coat opened the door. “Hi Miss Josie, it's a pleasure to meet you. We have the letter that your therapist faxed us. It says here you're interested in AnimalHRT? That's no problem. And by the looks of it you've already been on Bovinesterone. How can I help, are you looking into Dragon, or Wolf, or-”

“Uhm! I'm actually not on any AnimalHRT yet… I was hoping to get on Bovinesterone.”

“...Oh! My apologies.”

“No, no, I think you've actually given me the best compliment I've ever received…”

“Heh, okay. Bovinesterone it is. Now I just need to list off the possible effects of this medication. I'm sure you already know, but it's law. Here goes:

Creation and increase of keratin deposits on the top of the skull.

Fusing of the toes and increased keratin production of the feet, as well as realignment of the Fibula, Tibia, and Calcaneus.

Increase in keratin production of the fingernails.

Increase in growth of the tailbone.

Increase in mammary tissue.

Elongation and stretching of the skull, as well as realignment and blunting of the patient’s teeth.

Increase in hair production over the entirety of the body.”

It was as if she was reading off a list of everything I wished was different about my body.

“Do you understand and accept the risks inherent with this medication?”

“Yes, I do!” I said too eagerly.

“Okay. I'll send it into your pharmacy. I'll walk you out.”

_________________________________

I kept a hand on the bag I acquired from the pharmacy, holding it in my lap. I wanted, needed, to safeguard it's trip to my home. I was almost there, to the future that I was awaiting with bated breath.

I ran up the stairs to my apartment and filled a glass of water. In my hands were two small, light blue pills. As I swallowed them eagerly, a single thought repeated in my head: “It's happening!”

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

Josie's Cow HRT Journey

First|Previous|Next

[my-makeshift-masquerade]

Springdad AU Headcanons Up For Grabs

Why? Because I can? Credit for the AU to @skeletoninthemelonland as per usual! While trying to figure out how my OC would fit into this universe my love of worldbuilding got in the way… So these headcanons may not even be accurate or confirmed by the AU’s original creator. They are just ideas I’m throwing at the wall.

General Headcanons

For some reason, (cough cough this mysterious hunter character cough cough) I suspect there is a dark history of how humans treated these sapient humanoid animals in the past.

Perhaps hunting them used to be a lot more common? Perhaps they were sold to rich humans or circuses once upon a time? (I am talking like a hundred or so years ago, here…)

I imagine the two groups coexisting or having blended families is relatively new in society at large, only happening in the last century. Maybe some on both sides are still hesitant about it or outright against it.

Not to get too political, but I can see their being a lot of bigotry around it in cities at least. The rural areas were likely founded by the sapient humanoid animals, so they would be more tolerant.

Orphanages end up with a lot more orphans like Evan and Micheal than they do human orphans for this reason. There is still a lot of shady stuff happening underground that these kids end up being rescued from.

On a more positive note, I imagine these blended families are the best sorts of families: bound by love and not blood. The best family is the one you choose after all! They typically seek out rural communities to live in peace.

Staff at these orphanages have a lot of methods to weed out suspicious figures who may want to harm the orphans, and they especially look out for any human only wanting to adopt an animal orphan.

Parents like Henry and William are beloved by the orphanages for giving any child a chance at a good home, regardless of species. Even if they may only adopt one or a few, those kids have a good family now.

Lots of seasonal festivals happen in the rural communities and raise money for any nearby orphanage, as many residents build their blended families through adoption. This is mostly lower level though, and doesn’t reach those like the directors.

Rebecca Backstory Headcanons

She was taken from her biological parents by humans. Perhaps hunters? After they killed her parents, they had planned to sell her off to the highest bidders who could do with her as they wished.

The little rabbit was neglected emotionally. Though all her physical needs were met to keep her alive, she wouldn’t have anyone come comfort her if she cried, or show her actual genuine love.

These humans were soon discovered and charged with kidnapping, leading to Rebecca ending up at the orphanage. This was around the same time Micheal and Evan arrived as well.

The only other orphans she really warmed up to were Evan and Micheal. They were the new arrivals and got lumped together often, especially Evan and Rebecca, who had to share a bed to save space.

During the orphanage fire, Rebecca was one of the few children unaccounted for. Her instincts to hide made her impossible to find until after the fire was completely extinguished.

She did go to the hospital briefly for some minor injuries, then returned to the orphanage to find Evan and Micheal were gone. This led her to feel more afraid even as the other orphans tried to help.

This little bunny is observant and timid, always on alert. She enjoys blankets and stuffed animals/pillows. She cries quietly due to her past teaching her nobody comes if she cries loudly.

Springdad doesn’t know her past just yet, but he could always ask someone who does. Micheal knows the general idea of her past since he helped watch her and Evan at the orphanage.

Rebecca only started to trust William after Evan showed how comfortable he was. From there, the other rabbit instantly became her new guardian. She is slowly bonding with Elizabeth and Alice, too!

[practically-an-x-man]

Childhood asks for Jimmy because I'm really curious what it would've been like to grow up back then

2, 4, 8, 10

Ooooh thank you!!

OC Asks: Childhood Edition

2. Where did your muse grow up? What was their home like? Did they like where they grew up?

Jimmy grew up in New York City, right about when the city began to boom in industry and population. It was noisy, crowded, and more than a little unhygienic as the city hadn't quite sorted itself out yet.

His parents were lucky enough to own a floor in one of the apartment buildings, but usually leased out their extra rooms to immigrant families - a combination of generosity, as the welfare buildings got overcrowded and lots of people ended up on the street, and a means of getting a little extra cash for their working-class family. Jimmy's dad worked in iron manufacturing on the outskirts of the city, and his mother was a seamstress on commission. They had enough money to keep their home and put food on the table, and saved up so that Jimmy could have gone to college if he chose to, but it wasn't a luxury life by any means.

And even though he recognized all of the flaws in his childhood, Jimmy adores New York City and has never wanted to leave.

4. How was your muse's relationship with their childhood guardians? Has it changed over time, and if so, how? Do they keep in touch?

He and his parents had their ups and downs, but it was generally a good relationship. He never told them about his sexuality, but he was open about a lot of other things in his life (like his decision to work at the New York Zoo, at that time a low-paying position that didn't require much education, rather than going to college)

It would be pretty impossible for them to have kept in touch, given Jimmy himself is about a hundred and forty years old, but if he ran into them as ghosts he'd probably end up coming clean about the secrets he'd kept from them, just to get that off his chest. If they accepted it, that would be wonderful, but if they didn't, it's at least closure for him.

8. What did your muse do in their free time? How did they entertain themself as a kid?

His love of birds started early, even though there weren't many wild birds to be seen in central NYC. He spent a lot of time birdwatching in Central Park, and more time holed up in the library looking at books on ornithology. There weren't as many restrictions on kids just walking around on their own at that time, so when his parents were at work he tended just to wander until he found something interesting. And of course, he loved Coney Island - sometimes he'd buy a ticket and go with friends, other times he'd just sneak in and walk around for a while.

He was definitely the type of person to fall into his interests early and then stick with them. His love of birds led him to working in the New York Zoo, he first met his partner Robert by trading interactions at the zoo and at the library, and of course Coney Island plays into his death and much of his ghosthood. There's a reason for this - he needs to be linked strongly to his interests, because they have to be enough that he wants to keep living them.

My view on ghosts in the Ghostbusters universe is that they're effectively distilled versions of who the person was in their life, boiled down to the few traits, emotions, or roles that were the strongest. The librarian ghost, the ghostly miners, even a semihuman ghost like Slimer - their form as a ghost reflects their strongest traits or roles in their life. Jimmy retains so much of his humanity as a ghost partially because of how deeply he held onto his interests in his life.

10. What responsibilities did your muse have as a child? Chores? Babysitting? How good were they at fulfilling their responsibilities?

He had a lot of general chores around the house and around the neighborhood, and sometimes would sweep up around the neighborhood restaurants and other businesses for a little extra cash (child labor laws? what are those?). He was generally very good at keeping up with his responsibilities, but a few times he got so absorbed in whatever book he was reading that he ended up late to work.

[no-side-us]

In the unlikely scenario that I had to redo at least the first season of Voyager, I'm going to go through the ideas I have and what changes I would make. This is just a fun theoretical cause I've been thinking about it for a bit, so this isn't going to be that serious, though it is kind of long.

Beginning:

First some changes for "Caretaker." Everything will be mostly the same, but there would be more emphasis on Janeway and Chakotay making the decision to destroy the array together, setting up their relationship and eventual friendship and whatnot. Doing this means that being stranded in the Delta Quadrant is something the Starfleet and Maquis crew can both agree and resent together. There ought to be negative and positive sentiment towards it from both crews to facilitate their eventual joining together.

Val Jean (the Maquis ship) would also be intact throughout the first season until the finale, as a physical representation of the division between the two groups. Both Val Jean and Voyager would be heavily damaged in the transition to the Delta Quadrant, with many of both crews dead, resulting in the two ships having no choice but to work together if they're going to survive. Maybe the Val Jean needs Voyager's medical facilities, while Voyager needs Val Jean's weapons as its own are too damaged. I'm imagining that with the episode openings, the Val Jean starts off flying near to Voyager, before becoming permanently docked onto it to represent this, culminating in the finale which I'll talk about later.

Characters:

As to the main cast, Janeway and Chakotay's arcs will be mostly comprised of learning to trust and work with the other side. As leaders of the "opposing" factions, they both share a sense of responsibility to keep everybody alive. They're also very aware of how essential it is for both crews to work together if they're going to do that, meaning they know any disagreements they might have will quickly spread among their respective crews, crews who they also both know are just waiting to go at each other's throats. I think something fun would be for each of them to sort of act as the other's first officer, in a practical sense since they're both still captains. They'd question each other, bring up other possibilities, etc., and eventually realize they actually make the other better leaders.

Chakotay would also have an established real indigenous identity instead of a weird made up one. I haven't seen Prodigy yet, but I know they've finally made him a descendant of the Nicarao people, which is cool.

B'Elanna and Harry will represent the Starfleet/Maquis conflict to a more involved degree. It's easy for Janeway and Chakotay to be more separated from the crew due to their positions as captains, but B'Elanna and Harry are the ones who have to administrate and talk and interact with everybody from both sides, while also dealing with their own personal issues. B'Elanna has to once more learn to become part of Starfleet in a way, while her interactions with the Starfleet crew's biases bring her Klingon heritage to the forefront, as it's been something she's avoided for a while now. In turn however, Harry will represent for her the best of Starfleet.

This of course does lead to Harry's issues, that being the fresh top-of-the-class cadet thrust into the impossible situation, forced to learn and mature quicker than he ought to have been. I'll get it out of the way now, Janeway's going to emergency promote Harry to Lieutenant or Lieutenant Commander very quickly. It's going to become something of a sore spot for him as, while it's something he's always dreamed of earning at some point, he doesn't think he really deserves it due to the circumstances he's earning it in.

Moving on, Tuvok is basically still the same, except being a bit more sympathetic towards the Maquis, for logical reasons obviously. He recognizes that the Maquis are justifiably upset at Starfleet giving away their homes, so while he hasn't switched sides or betrayed the Federation or anything, the fact he understands their logic means he'll be an important reason Janeway learns to trust them. His big moment is going to be actively apologizing to the Maquis crew for spying on them.

Tom is going to be the opposite of Tuvok (figuratively and literally). If Tuvok is the one who is sympathetic to both sides, then Tom is the one who doesn't care about either. His daddy issues with Starfleet and his being kicked out of the Maquis means his allegiance is to himself, for all intents and purposes. That being said, something I do like in the original show was how much he better he thought his life was on Voyager compared to back home, even before prison. So he does start growing attached to everybody, especially Harry. He wouldn't be an official officer here, but he will have more to say about Starfleet and the Maquis, pointing out to them their own hypocrisies.

Neelix and Kes will basically be the same as well. Neelix will be their guide through the Delta Quadrant with all his same quirks and behaviors. Kes, instead of just being the Doctor and Tuvok's mentee, will sort of be everybody's mentee, though her relationships with the Doctor and Tuvok will still be very central. She'll have more of a hunger to learn and explore the universe due to her short lifespan. For the both of them though, as neutral parties they're going to have an outsider's perspective on the Starfleet/Maquis conflict, being good ways for both sides to voice their frustrations and eventually join together.

I'm not going to change anything about the Doctor, he's fine as is and his development kind of comes throughout all the seasons.

Story/Setting:

This may seem odd, but I'm going to make the first season focus more on the Kazon, except with a purpose in mind instead of as general conflict-instigators. The crews interactions with the Kazon will start off the same, with both Starfleet and the Maquis seeing them as a divided, backwards, resource-stealing species who fire on the crews any chance they get. This view quickly falls away however as the real villains of the season are revealed: the Trabe.

When Janeway, Chakotay, and crew first meet the Trabe, they at first assume they're good guys due to the aesthetics of advancement they give off. They have advanced technology and seemingly an "advanced" society. The Trabe say that the Kazon have been attacking them for a long time now and are out to steal their technology, and asks for help. Basically, it's sort of the same plot as the one episode they were featured in. However, after some suspicious details come to light (maybe Tuvok discovers the Trabe fired first or something), the truth is revealed.

The backstory between the Trabe and the Kazons is the same, i.e., the Trabe were a more technologically advanced species who used to enslave the Kazon. The Kazon then eventually joined together to escape enslavement. However, we learn this hasn't stopped the Trabe from continuing to interfere in Kazon affairs. It turns out they have been spreading rumors about the Kazon to other species, stealing resources from the Kazon, sowing division among them so they can't unite again, and this is important, refusing to share their technology with them. This is especially evil considering Kazon slave labor is what contributed to the many current technological advancements made by the Trabe. It turns out that the Kazon have been simply asking for resources and technology which could help their species survive. And the Trabe have been refusing to give it to them.

Eventually, Janeway asks why the Trabe don't help the Kazon, and their answer is simply that the Kazon are too "primitive" by their standards and don't deserve the technology they have. This becomes a critique of the Prime Directive and the Federation, and helps push Janeway to reflect on her own ideals as a Starfleet captain.

This culminates in both Starfleet and Maquis crews helping the Kazon against the Trabe. At first, both sides assume the other won't help. The Starfleet crew assume the Maquis are going to try to save themselves and leave Trabe/Kazon space as soon as possible, while the Maquis crew assume the Starfleet officers will either do the same or side with the Trabe who they see as being a bit too similar to the Federation. Regardless, their unity for the Kazon against the Trabe is what gets them to finally trust each other.

Finale:

Some episodes would deal with Voyager and Val Jean helping unite the Kazon once again and be mediators for them to other species. The Trabe would eventually find out about this, and realize it'd be better to wipe out the Kazon now before they unite. This culminates in a final battle against the Trabe, with the Kazon sects, Voyager, Val Jean, and some other species who realized their mistake joining in and working together.

They win, etc., and the Trabe agree to give back territory and technology to the Kazon. In the battle however, the Val Jean becomes too damaged to be salvageable, and with Voyager also needing repairs, parts of the Val Jean are used to do so. Thus the physical representation of the divide between the two ships is now a physical representation of their unity, and they are all now one crew.

Janeway and Chakotay also agree that a ship run under strict Starfleet regulations and a ship run under the looseness of the Maquis would be too much for either crew, so it becomes more of a middle ground. There is still a hierarchy of sorts, but many regulations no longer need to be followed, including the dress code. I just want to see more casual wear on Voyager even if they do have my favorite Starfleet uniforms.

Other/Notes:

Even though this post is about the first season, it could also work for two seasons. I think it might be more focused with just one. That being said, I do think there would be episodes where they encounter just some random stuff throughout a la classic Trek.

I thought about making a connection between the Trabe and the Haakonians (from "Jetrel," the species who space nuked the Talaxian moon), but I don't know if that would make the Delta Quadrant seem a bit too small, so I'll just note it here.

I always thought it was odd that the idea of the Maquis, though being created for Voyager, is centered around a specific region of space and being stranded so far away from it kind of defeats the purpose, cause then what exactly are the Maquis fighting for now? But I do think it's possible that without the context of the Federation, Cardassia, etc., the Maquis and Starfleet crews can talk openly about what the Federation did.

After the season finale, I think Janeway, Tuvok, and Harry would be the ones wearing their uniforms the longest. Chakotay would wear his Maquis clothes. Tom would wear Federation casual. B'Elanna would wear that Starfleet uniform jacket she wore when her actor was pregnant over her Maquis clothes. Everybody else is the same.

And that's it. Thanks for reading!

[10000-paper-nohara-rins]

OOhhh Your Cannibal AU fic was very neat to read!! It's nice to see more insight into Rin, her thoughts, and her observations even if they're not entirely reliable. (I see u Rin, pointing out your apathy and lack of person, all the while feeling splashes of emotion and flashes of person-hood that contradict that... We see you!!!) Love the "what-if" type of feelings regarding Minato as well; logically, he likely wouldn't survive if he's not been drinking or eating for weeks, but then the storm passed days later after eating him... Could he have survived if they waited longer? Were his injuries really that bad? Was there some solution Rin could've thought of to help him, had she not been so apathetic? Was he comatose from an infection, and effectively living-dead the very moment that kunai lodged itself deeper into his spine, and nothing could've been done from the start? What-if....................

It's also really, REALLY funny to me just HOW EASILY her other teammates were on-board to start eating Minato, with very little prompting too! I'm not too sure if that's just because the Shinobi world in general is kinda blasé about that sorta thing, or if the entire team's moral compass is just super esoteric... It's probably the latter honestly! Rin did seem to feel some sort of camaraderie, comfort, and understanding for the first time in her life eating her sensei in a dank cave with her teammates, after all.

One other thing I'd be super curious to know is how Kushina would react to the news; from my understanding, she and Minato were already a steady couple for a few years, so I wonder how she'd deal with him dying so soon?

Very good fic and character study, I'm happy to have read it and I'd love to see more of this verse. A solid 10/10!! ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

yay!!! :D that's rin, my girl... continuously insisting that she has no feelings and is an empty shell of a person and then ignoring The Rage *whipes away a single glistening tear* she fascinates me.

the "what-if" is one of my FAVORITE aspects of the premise. like. no one has any way of guaranteeing that minato was really, truly, done for! there was a chance he would survive- a chance rin tanked because she really truly *doesnt* give a shit about him specifically, but you know. (imo rin has the potential to be a Great mednin but she doesnt tend to act quick enough to do anything/underestimates her abilities and then doesnt act. which is a result of her being forced into the position by the gender roles running rampant in ninjaville and her weird views about agency (if she was forced into doing something SURELY it is impossible for her to do it well)). but yeah rin's best bet WOULD have been to risk doing spinal surgery herself. she just didn't. it wasn't even too late by the time they ate him- thinking logically, the best option would have been for rin to do the surgery regardless of risk and if he dies, they eat the body, and if he lives, he can teleport them out to konoha! win-win! rin did not think of this because she had already disregarded "healing minato" as a plausible option. babygirl...

yeah team minato's moral compass's are WAY out of whack. i think we all know what's going on with rin. or at least most of it lmao. and kakashi is utilitarian to a fault on account of the trauma (many of these childrens personality traits are on account of the trauma). he Doesnt want to eat minato, but also he thinks what rin's saying is making sense, and since the only reason he can think of not to eat minato is just his own peresonal feelings, he sets aside his feelings to be a Good Ninja as is habit of his. get therapy boy!!! obito denies it at first, but also obito, for all that he stands out and fights with kakashi, is at his heart a people pleaser methinks. god i love the way all of them bounce off each other. the team minato dynamic really is unparalleled.

kushinaaaaaa my girl im so so sorry. on one hand obito brought you back some cinnamon. on the other hand. well. my take on her grief is that kushina has already lost a LOT. and she uses a kind of fake it till you make it attitude to deal with it. like an evil rin. *kushina voice: if i act happy around everyone surely this means that i am actually happy.* so while she is legitimately devastated by minato's death (i rag on the man but he IS a person, culpable to the system but not solely responsible for its flaws!!!!! i think his relationship with kushina is actually very sweet and far from the worst a ninja has ever had. i mean not to say its HEALTHY but its kind of close??? progress??) she kind of brushes past it so that she can GET BACK TO BEING HAPPY. this is not a great coping mechanism. but she can get in line for therapy. because there's a long long line.

i have been thinking of adding more to that timeline... i think it could end up being a REALLY interesting exploration of what would happen to team minato without the influence of madara/zestu/all that nonsense. (the answer is broken and dead. they're always gonna be broken and or dead.) i am a FIRM believer that regardless of weird plant guys interference team minato was destined for tradegy, on account of being shinobi. and it'd be interesting to explore. (my logic is that like,, they dont get assigned kanobi bridge w/out minato, so some other poor fool eventually ends up getting used as madara's pawn. taps nose.) thank you for the comment i'm glad you enjoyed!!!

[ponds-of-ink]

Sing The Ghosts A Christmas Carol Bonus Scene: “What Became Of Justine”

You might want to get the tissues, because this one had me moved a bit.

Long story short, because of logistical reasons within the work, I pretty much scrapped this idea. But, with a bit of retooling, here’s my best attempt at reviving this deleted scene of sorts.

-

…The frustrated man gnashed his teeth. “Well, can you at least show me something that was close to Christmas?” he questioned, fighting the urge to tear out his hair. “Any deplorable act will do, at this rate. Just.. show me a time that will help me remember what I truly am.”

Baby stared at him, her face-plates twitching. “Are you sure?” she asked softly.

“Positive,” William answered firmly, wrapping his arm around hers as he rose yo his feet. “Lead me on, Spirit.”

With a look of resignation, Baby led the man away from their chairs. The room around them changed with no other warning. The many tables were replaced with other furniture. The wide open space turned into a much narrower living room. The curtains morphed into two shut drapes, where a tall woman was now peering outside. Opposite her was a portly man of around twenty-five or so years, his round face equally as solemn as hers. He leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands as if silently pleading with himself.

The woman, on the other hand, stood straight as an arrow. Even as she looked to the man, her posture remained proper. “I think you know what I want to say,” she said in a flat, grim tone.

The man rubbed his face with his hands. “Yes,” he murmured tiredly. “I know you’re unhappy with me. My… work ethic has been a bit skewed as of late. I’m not afraid to admit that.”

“‘Skewed’ is not the word I’m looking for, William,” the woman insisted, her voice only gaining a hint of sharpness. “‘Out of whack’ would be a better way to describe it. You’ve buried yourself in paperwork when, months ago, you’d be more than happy to help entertain. You were thrilled to play Spring Bonnie, even with that risky ol’ costume. But now? It’d be a miracle if the camera crew can convince you to come out for a commercial with just the mascot head on.”

The younger William sighed heavily. “At least one can’t say that grief has made me slack,” he replied offhandedly, assuming a more casual posture. “Even with the closure of the diner, business has been shockingly good. Fazbear Entertainment’s got a whole expansion planned, Henry’s made progress in negotiating with customers, and I’m quite happy with my reworked career. At least it’ll keep my grubby mug out of the spotlight for a while, strange as it sounds.”

“Yes, but for how long?” the woman countered, letting go of the drapes.

“What, the way things are shaping up for Fazbear’s?”

“Your time away from the spotlight,” the woman corrected, her tone shifting into gentle concern as she stepped closer. “Are you seriously considering tossing away your lifelong dream for some… coffin of a career?”

“Office work is not a coffin for me, Justine,” William retorted darkly, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen coffins before— Both literal and metaphorical. They’re confined to impossible standards. They’re dark and cramped, nary a lit coming through. The body decays without its owner never knowing. The silent void is endless and the unhearing person disappears within it. An office job may seem that way on the surface, but at least the body is moving. At least the person is noticed through his work.”

“But is the heart still beating?” Justine interposed, her voice cracking with emotion. “Is there any life in those eyes? Or has his death dragged it down into its tomb?”

The young William fell silent. His eyes fixed on the floor.

The older William fought the urge to scream “Say ‘Yes’ to the last question, you idiot!”. He promptly turned away and shielded his eyes. Justine, meanwhile, slowly exhaled. “I’m so sorry, William, but I can’t do this anymore,” she resumed as she wandered towards the coat rack. “Ever since Evan died, it’s like you’ve become someone else. I know grief changes people. And I also know that don’t want to go through the same things your parents went through. But I think, in the long run, me… being gone might help you rather than hurt you.”

The young William’s eyes widened. “What exactly are you suggesting?” he asked, a twinge of fear entering his body.

Justine looked over her shoulder. “I’m suggesting that I leave, William,” she replied with a choke. “And, if it does come to a divorce, I’ll try not to make the same mistakes as your dad. I promise.”

A strange sense of relief washed over the man’s features. He wiped his brow as visions of the past faded from his memory. “And here I thought you were implying that you’d have me pull a Romeo and Juliet of sorts,” he chuckled sadly, his eyes misting all the same. “To be honest, this is a much better outcome. You are happy in the life you’ll have chosen. I’ll continue to be happy in my own path… After the.. many nights of crying, of c-course.” As if this last sentence made his tragic reality sink in, William sobbed.

Justine blinked away tears of her own. Wordlessly, she put on her winter coat and gloves. Her slender hands trembled as she snatched her house keys. She turned to face the mourning William one last time. “It won’t be right away,” she explained hoarsely, attempting to fake a smile. “I still need time to arrange things.”

William wiped off one side of his tear-soaked face. “Go anyway,” he answered bitterly. “Pretend like we’re strangers. Spend Christmas at your family’s like you used to. It’ll all become routine soon enough.”

Justine scowled, but kept her composure. “Fine then,” she responded with a harsh tug at her hood. “I’ll… hm.. What was that last piece of advice Belle gave to Scrooge in a Christmas Carol?”

“It wasn’t a piece of advice,” the elder William muttered, catching the fully engrossed Baby off-guard. “It was a wish.”

“It wasn’t a piece of advice,” the younger William ‘repeated’ unknowingly. “It was a wish. A wish I think I’ve already quoted by mistake.”

“And what was that wish?” Justine questioned, a look of genuine curiosity forming in her shadowed features.

“‘May you be happy in the life you have chosen,’” the younger William replied quickly, though pangs of sorrow threatened to grip him again. “And, after we negotiate with that Doug fellow, I want the same for you.”

“And you as well,” Justine said softly, her head finally turning away. “Goodbye, William. Maybe for the last time.” And, as graceful as she made her entrance at the diner, she gracefully left William alone.

Baby glanced at the grief-stricken young man in his chair, then at the elder by her side. “Was this the last time?” she inquired, placing an ever-changing hand on her ghost’s shoulder.

The elder William inhaled through his teeth. “One of the last,” he clarified weakly. “We tried to negotiate the terms as casually as we could. Fulfilling the duties we had without personal in-fights or complaints toward Doug. The poor fellow already had enough trouble as it was..” His bitter sniggering returned to a dismal frown. “She left that very Spring,” he continued, his posture becoming even more closed in. “She took all her belongings and left. No muss. No fuss. No dramatic goodbyes like those in The Immortal and The Restless. She just.. vanished.” “Did you notice?”

William put a hand to his quivering lips. The world gradually shifted into a void-like state. “Of course I did!” he exclaimed in spite of himself, whirling around to face his questioner. “But did I care? No! I took the wrong words to heart and now look at where we are! Lost in this void, with me being despised and unwanted as I should be! ‘Be happy in the life you’ve chosen’— What a sorry wish to bestow an absolute fool!”

Baby stared blankly. “But Ballora loves you, doesn’t she?” she asked faintly, her green eyes shimmering in the dark.

William’s scowl weakened. “Only because she’s a replica of someone I used to love,” he huffed as he crossed his arms. “After that whole scuffle, I never cared for anyone else. Show me a Christmas where I did care, and I’ll show you a man humbled to his core. I bet you won’t even get that privilege.”

Baby’s head tilted from side to side. Her ever-changing pigtails floated as she pondered. “I think I might have a Christmas in mind,” she said thoughtfully, tightening her grip on her fellow ghost’s arm. “But I’m not sure if you’re brave enough for it.”

“I am more than brave enough,” William sneered. “I await your little guess with open arms. Lead on, Spirit. Show me what you’ve got.”

The Spirit wordlessly twirled her free arm. In an instant, the dark void vanished into thin air. Now the second living room of the journey greeted them…

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

The Year of OTP: January

Chapter 1: Where’s Giuseppe WTF?

January prompt: Historical au (because 2015 counts as the past)

Note: Simon x Billy is a slow-burn m/m fic; turns NSFW (male/male, consensual) beginning tamely at Chapter 7.

Meet the OTP: Simon Lewis, author and star of The Mortal Instruments, who keeps writing himself into his novels; and Billy Delaney, Irish handsome devil and international chef of mystery; and also Italy. It’s sort of like a threesome. TMI AU: Instead of Simon Lewis being only a character in the best-selling YA series, he is now also the author of that series. TW: References to having been cheated on, bad language, bad humor, Irish-isms, calling young people criminals, making fun of Americans, LGBTQIA+ themes, having to wait for the NSFW chapters to show up.

Masterlist || ao3 || Next

Chapter 1: Where’s Giuseppe WTF?

———/Simon/———

OK, fine, baggage claim was a little rough. Finding baggage claim was a little rough. Finding Customs was a little rough. Customs was Customs. I mean, what’s to know, they look at you suspiciously, and if you smile excitedly cuz you’re in a new country, they look at you suspiciously some more, and you start wondering if they’ve noticed something you haven’t.

At least that’s how I felt. Like, maybe I have a single very long nose hair or something horrifying like that. I don’t know? They’re Customs. They notice shit like that.

On a positive note, they’re just fine communicating with people who only “have” one language. They asked me if I had Italian, and I kept waiting for them to finish their sentence. You know? Like, do I have Italian… Food? Relatives? Then they were like, “Do you have any other languages?” And I’m thinking, maybe I caught one in-flight. Planes are well known for making people ill. Or I could’ve caught something cool, like Norwegian! In fact, I could’ve had it my whole life and it’s just never had any symptoms. You never know.

Meanwhile, the train ran on time. And the Red Sea parted. Two impossibilities amounting to miracles.

So yeah, sure, I’d done some prepping for the trip. I refuse to reveal my sources as they are completely mortifying. OK fine, it wasn’t even an app. It was a book. With pictures in it. More specifically, the one my parents used when they planned their trip to the Amalfi Coast.

I used it to plan Our Trip. The one that became My Trip. Flying solo. In so, so many ways.

Believe me, and you need to trust me on this one: Never propose to a girl you met in costume. And if you did and it turned out great, shut up. And mazel tov. May all your children have bar and bat mitzvahs with a good dj. And puppies.

Just remember, your first impression of her is while she’s cosplaying someone else. You might find you’re falling for a personality that isn’t really her on the inside. The whole thing is exhausting. Because my beautiful but cruel shiki found somebody else to cosplay with.

She revealed this shortly after breaking up with me.

No, Simon. I do not choose you. No, Simon. I never choose you. Said every girl ever.

She gave me lots of reasons why. Constructive observations for my next relationship, she said. So at least I had something to think about on the plane to Naples that made me feel really good about myself. For 22 hours including two layovers and a bonus train ride from the airport to downtown Naples. (Trust me, just fly into Rome. Why didn’t it occur to me to fly into Rome?)

I once read a book where the most flamboyant, exciting character said something of extreme poetry and wisdom. (Because poetry and wisdom can both be extreme. Whatever.) It went a little something like this: “Unsolicited advice is just criticism.” Ok fine, I’ve read it more like 25-30 times. Alright look, I can’t be coy. I wrote it. And 25-30 is how many revisions my editor tried to convince me to take it out. (I won.)

I like stories that stretch out over like 20 books in a series. You get to stay with the characters you love until you finally stop re-starting the series the minute you close the last page of the last book. Again.

I think I’d be a vampire irl. And I have thought a lot about it. I mean a lot of thinking on this topic. And you can’t convince me that fairies and werewolves are even in the running for best paranormal destiny.

I like stories where choosing to be a vampire is one of the safer bets. Because you’re already dead.

Don’t start. I’ve fought table top duels over this and I refuse to go over that ground again. Take my word for it. You want to be a vamp.

She was a vamp. I was a vamp. (D, because who else?) We thought we were made for each other. Until she didn’t. Think that anymore. I guess she’d been not-thinking that anymore for months and months. And here I am, presenting her with a trip to Italy where I was going to propose. I had it all planned out. I mean I had it all planned out. Because that’s how I roll. (A 20-sided die, obviously.) Ugh. So when she says she doesn’t want to leave the city, I’m like, “But it’s Italy! And me!”

Turns out the trip wasn’t the only thing she didn’t want.

Turns out she was also being quite literal about not leaving the city. And so, like the heartless traitor she is, she abandoned Brooklyn for the Upper West Side and a yoga instructor with a man bun and half a million followers on Twitter.

Half a million? What even is that? I mean, I get 100 followers -- wow, friend, you are on fire! I get a million followers -- wow, somewhat famous person, you are on fire! But, like, what’s halfway between the two?

So the “hot yoga instructor” -- her words, not mine -- is a person that exists. I told her that she didn’t have to be mean about another, hotter guy. And you know what’s coming next. You totally do.

The hot yoga instructor is an instructor of hot yoga.

But since I mentioned it, she laughed and said he is also a hot instructor, of yoga.

Thanks. I don’t feel angry tears at all when I think about that.

Anyways, I was talking about trains in Italy running on time, and somehow I land on vamps. Welcome to the brain of Simon Lewis, enjoy your stay.

Oh my god. There’s a McDonalds here. It’s like a crime against Italian humanity. “That should be illegal,” I announce to no one in particular. Followed by “Shut up, Lewis, that guy over there is staring.” And yes, I do use my last name when I scold myself out loud in public. Because people find that attractive and charismatic.

So the train in Italy running on time is actually my problem. “My driver” isn’t due for another 30 minutes. Which means I get to spend an additional 30 minutes enjoying my own company some more. And also avoiding talking to any strangers. Which is particularly difficult in the Naples train station. And even more unlikely when you’re standing in the same spot forever and ever.

I’m full of my mother’s dire predictions of criminal young people offering their services to help you find your way around the train station. And when that fails, they’re supposed to start begging for money. And when that fails, Oliver and the Artful Dodger pick your pocket. So put your money and your passport down the back of your underwear or something equally unworkable when you’re dealing with Customs.

That little gem was actually written in the margins of the travel book. By my mother. So I wouldn’t forget to keep it in my pants. “Simon, don’t forget about the criminal young people. Keep it all in your underpants.”

So standing here looking like I’m waiting (and waiting and waiting), I’m an easy target. But as my t-shirt says, I’m from Brooklyn. We do not pay people to tell us where we are and which line to stand in. It’s a matter of pride. Unbelievable. Being from Brooklyn, I understand trains. I can find my way around any train station in the world. Hubris! But it’s true. Even in foreign alphabets. It’s in my blood, it’s in the East River, it’s in the soot-flecked air we New Yorkers are born breathing.

So here I am in the Naples train station with my underwear full of credit cards, IDs, and my emergency contacts laminated in both English and Italian. And now I also have that hot tingling in my eyes and the slight burn in my sinuses that threaten angry tears again.

I’m supposed to see a little old man with a big old mercedes, holding up a sign saying “Simon Lewis.” His name is Giuseppe and he came very highly rated on travelbookie.com. Very highly rated.

So, ok, ummm- This guy is definitely not Giuseppe. He doesn’t look that much older than I am. He’s an awfully chatty Irishman named Billy. So I’m like, “What’s Billy in Italian?”

“Fuck if I know,” he laughs. “They just say Beelee. Which puts me off every time, if I’m honest. God bless ‘em, they’re beautiful people, right, but Beelee is so wrong.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Delaney.”

“So in Italian, you’re Beelee Day-la-nay.”

“Y’speak Italian then, do yeh?” he laughs.

“Fluently. This app taught me how to say ‘dog’ and ‘blouse’ and I leveled up really fast — one of my great talents, by the way.”

“Leveling up, is it? Or Italian?”

“Italian. Certo. That means ‘certainly,’ but you use it kind of like you would use ‘obviously.’ Why is it pronounced ‘chair toe?’ No seriously, I’m asking.”

“Obviously,” he snorts, ignoring my lingual curiosity. “Are you mansplainin the language of the place I live to me?”

“Certo.”

Billy rewards me with a low chuckle. It may have been low and just a chuckle, but it was real. Being a connoisseur and collector of bad puns and dad jokes, I have a finely tuned ear for real laughter, as opposed to the usual laughing-just-to-be-nice.

“So I’m better off with Beelee Daylanay. I’ll have a talk with my boss and ask him to use my full name or nothin at all.” That at least gets a snort out of me. Until he says, “What about you? Are you lookin forward to bein Seemon? Sorry, mate. I think yours might be worse than mine.”

———/-/———

We’ve been talking all this time and I forgot to look out the window. As if I’m not on my dream vacation. Runner-up, actually. I’m holding my best dream vacation (Venice) for when Ms. I Do Lewis actually says, “I do.” And I will not book the rooms til after she does.

“Sorry, what was that?” I’ve been staring into space and ignoring Mr. Daylanay, who is now looking at me funny in the rear view mirror.

“Nothin important. Where’d you go, mate?”

“New York to Frankfurt to Milan to Naples. I flew out of JFK.”

“I’ll pretend to know where that is. No,” he says, “I meant just now. You disappeared behind your face.”

Um… “I did what?”

“I’ve been the only one enjoyin the sound of my voice, apparently, since you went quiet about five minutes ago. So where’d you go? Back behind your face,” he prompts.

“That’s an awfully private question, Mr. Daylanay. I’m not sure we’re good enough friends for letting you behind my face.” I kinda stumble on the word friends, cuz, well, we’re not.

“What. Is that like bein let in to visit the little man behind the curtain? That sounds a bit-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it sounds.” I make sure to roll my eyes loudly so he can hear. My mother always says she can hear my eyes rolling from the next room.

“Cagey one, aren’t ya?”

“Nosey, intrusive one, aren’t ya?” I counter.

He bobs his head and gives me a simple, “Ok.”

And now it’s gone quiet. I decide to disappear behind my face again for a while. I quite like it there. Maybe one day the whole world will join me. (Obscure movie reference, don’t bother.)

“Does she have a name?” he breaks into my sinking mood.

“What- Why?”

“Well, Seemon, because every story worth tellin about people generally has a name or two in it. Unless yer feelin all avant-garde while you're busy behind your face, contemplatin. Things.”

Ok, now I’m starting to get tired of his persistence. “I like to think of her as She Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“Like Voldemort. In a nighty.”

The bark of a laugh just erupts out of me before I can stop it from encouraging him. “That is the most disturbing image I’ve ever had.” My dull ache of a mood evaporates as quickly as it came, uninvited and unwelcome on this trip.

“You’re off the hook for now, but if I see you again, I’ll want to hear more about Ms. She Who Shall Not Be Named.”

And just like that, I’m annoyed again. “No.”

“Ok,” he says again.

———/-/———

While apparently spending more time behind my face, I realize I’ve ignored over 45 minutes of the view in a foreign country. Again I’m annoyed. Isn’t he supposed to be narrating the countryside or something? Giuseppe would be narrating the countryside. I frickin paid for that narration.

“So what am I looking at?” I lob at him.

“Naples.”

“Funny.” I hope he can hear my eyes rolling.

“Hold up, I haven’t finished! That great U-shape, right, that’s the Bay of Naples. The city herself is over there in the distance, all the way at the far end of the bay. All the wee towns strung out and all bunched up against the sea as tight as can be sketch out the shape of the bay and on along to the Sorrentine Peninsula -- where we’re goin. The big blue bit beyond the bay-”

“Is the Mediterranean. Yeah, I got that much.”

“Nah, mate. You don’t. See, it’s the Tyrrhenian Sea, which is just the part of the Mediterranean between the boot of Italy and Spain.”

“Thanks so much for the oceanography lesson.”

“Bit tetchy, aren’t yeh?” he says, eyeing me in the rearview mirror. “Look, mate. I’m sorry if I rubbed ye up the wrong way with makin conversation. I’m just not used to fillin in on the guest delivery service. That’s a specific kind of hospitality. Mine might be a bit more suited to conversatin across a bar. In that situation, all of this would have been charming.”

I can see him smiling at me in the rearview, trying to reset the mood.

“So you’re a bartender, not a driver. But you do work at the hotel. Right? Or…”

“Yeah sure’n I’ve been known to fill in at the bar when I’m needed.” He clarifies, “Acourse it’s the height of the high season, and all the staff are absolutely inundated with guests. It’s a busy kitchen, and no mistake.”

“So you’re not a bar-”

“Aaaaand, here we are,” he declares, pulling off the road going way too fast into what appears to be open air. But when I don’t feel us driving off a cliff, I open my eyes to see an ornate iron gate, a tile roof, a million flowering bushes, and more than one fountain.

“Allow me to be the first to welcome yeh to the Hotel Terrazze di Limoni. I’ll just fetch your bags, shall I?”

———/Read More/———

Masterlist || ao3 || Next

———/Disclaimer/———

I’ve stolen liberally from Cassandra Clare, TJKlune, and all m|m authors I’ve ever read.

[the-rockstar-lestat]

Good Morning Prince. How does the whole prince thing work when you're away from court with sad boi? And what did sad boi do to get you away from a place as cool as a vampire court????

Good morning dear. Sorry for taking so long to reply, but your ask came at a very appropriate time: I just got back from a visit to court.

So when we set up the court I suppose I thought I'd live there full time. But even a rockstar can't be on stage 24/7, and, I imagine like many kings and queens have, I found the environment stifling.

Look, I've always wanted to be a hero, I've always wanted to be seen and loved and wanted, guilty as charged, but I've never been good at dealing with pomp and circumstance and ritual and the Court seemed to positively BREED that sort of thing. Maybe vampires are pompous by nature. Maybe too many of them were born in a world of royalty and divine right. But I'm a creature of chaos, as Louis will be glad to tell you. The brat prince, remember? I've never been good at falling in line. I'm also a child of the enlightenment; I was no fan of the revolution when it happened (it did kill most of my family...) but I've always been a little skeptical of titles, despite being born with one. Or maybe because of it. Our title didn't keep us warm during the winter, it just made it impossible to ask for the help of our neighbors because as aristocrats we were above such weakness.

Maybe we shouldn't have structured it in such a regal fashion, but it was a busy time. I was trying to figure out how to put out Roshamendes' fires (quite literally) , and then they wanted me to be leader and then they were calling me prince. Not sure how it all escalated that quickly either. Better than a new religion, which seems to be the OTHER thing vampires like to do.

Anyway, court was uncomfortable, at least to be at full time, and I longed for a backstage area. Louis and I were also repairing our relationship, trying again, and while Louis loves the court in theory and what it stands for, he finds it overwhelming. When I held the core we didn't have much choice in the matter, I had to be protected, and my understandably paranoid subjects insisted I be somwhere safe and accessible, for THEIR safety. But after it's removal and our serverencr from the core, there was no reason to keep me in my gilded cage, so an idea was reached. Louis and I would live our private lives in whatever city we chose, and would both be in attendance a few days out of the month to run business. I usually average about a week out of the month, sometimes less or more if things ar happening. We also have a Season now, a month or so when court is officially opened, we have a series of balls and parties, announcements are made, major business is attended to, and all vampire kind is invited to attend. THAT'S when I'm most busy, and tend to live there full time while the court is teeming with people, both for business and pleasure. I don't mind it so much! The show must go on, and most of this prince stuff is being a pretty figurehead that people can identify with.

Honestly, I'm a pretty hands off ruler. Could never stand being told what to do, don't really like to tell others, but I'm happy to step in to settle disputes and mediate. That I can do. Sometimes big things come up and require my presence, like the vampire Nazi incident that brought Louis and me to Thessaloniki, then Rome, then England, then back to Thessaloniki (more for a vacation...) slightly before the pandemic.

Anyway, other than that, I live privately with Louis in New York, and very happily. I like being the vampire prince, don't get me wrong, love the attention and the adoration, and yes, the ability to do something for my people and my kind that helps them cope with eternity, and gives them the pride in their culture and nature that so many of us lacked for so long.

I hope my service there somehow makes up for what I did to Louis and Claudia. All this started because I separated two vampires from their community, and what is Louis' story, immortalized in his book, but a search for community? I hope I have finally brought him that.

[phoenix-flamed]

@cybrvce asked: The battle hadn't been much to think about after the fact, just a small skirmish against migratory beasts wandering too close to town and wreaking havoc against houses on the outskirts of town. But that was still cause for a celebration of sorts - or, at least, an excuse for everyone to have a few drinks in the barracks, to sing rousing songs of heroism, likely to fraternize and get drunk and spend tomorrow recovering and pretending they hadn't binged so hard the night before. Squall doesn't drink much, himself. He has nothing against it, but there's something about potentially losing his wits that instills a deep-seated fear within him. He thinks he knows what caused it, but he doesn't like to think about that; too painful, too difficult. So he just sips on a single glass of ale, cheap shit that's passed around when it isn't a real celebration (the good stuff is reserved for the nicest of occasions; vineyards aren't too terribly close to Rosaria, so importing wine is expensive, takes time, and is saved until necessary). It's something, though, and it at least takes the edge off his nerves, eases the tension in his shoulders a bit. (It's safe here, in Rosaria, surrounded by other soldiers. He can let his spine relax, his jaw unclench. He's safe.) He remains seated on the perimeter of the large tent, one elbow resting on the table as he watches the others dance and sing and laugh. (Safe.) Elwin passes close by, and Squall's eyes soften a touch. It's impossible not to be drawn to Elwin's charisma, especially when he's adamant enough to become someone's friend. That's a bit of a new concept to Squall, friendship; he hasn't allowed many to get close to him before, so it's strange to use that word so freely where Elwin is concerned. It's comfortable. "Your Grace," he says with a hint of amusement in his tone as he raises his glass to the man. The title is almost a tease, a joke, because his father is well and good, and Elwin has many years before he will take to the throne. Elwin doesn't prefer the title, not yet; Squall suspects he will accept it one day, when he needs to. For now, the title truly is just a tease.

Even a small victory is a victory; that's what a wise commander had taught him from a young age. Never take a victory for granted, because even a small victory is a victory, and the line between victory and death is naught more than a hair's width. While it's true that Elwin is no longer the wide-eyed little boy he had once been, following behind his father's every step as if he was the Dominant's shadow -- he still looks up to his father as the wisest person he knows. Well, next to the Archduchess herself, anyway.

There is a part of the ducal heir that can't help in wondering how different things would be if the Archduke's presence on the battlefield had not become a rarity, reserved only for times of dire need. Fortunately, their army is strong enough to act as a bulwark for the duchy, and he is more than honored to take over as his father's sword, for he is still First Shield of Rosaria. And if protecting his father calls for him to lead and fight on the field on his father's behalf, then so be it.

As the young man gazes around the tent, listening and observing the energy, enthusiasm, and pride practically emanating from his fellow Shields and soldiers as they celebrate, he is once more reminded of the other reason why this is a position he holds with utmost devotion: for their people. Not just the nobility, the ruling class... But all of them. His fellow soldiers, their families and friends, the servants and Bearers. The generations yet to come. Every one of them is important; every one of them are worth far more than their weight in gil. They are all his family, and his friends, because the people are the beating heart of Rosaria.

That, in contrast, is what his mother, in her unending compassion, had always taught him too.

He pauses on his path between rows of tables, raising his own mug of ale into the air in a cheer, even as his free hand pats one of the nearest soldiers on the upper back. "Raise your voices louder, my friends! Let those back in Rosalith hear of our triumph!" Of course, the men need no more encouragement than that. An even greater roar of cheers, laughter, and drunken, off-key singing fills the camp, even more boisterous than it already had been, and the prince can't help in grinning broader and laughing too.

Of course, not everyone is so rowdy. There are those who prefer to keep their wits about them, and Elwin will not let them feel underappreciated. Which is exactly why he continues his journey around the temporary shelter, offering quieter words of gratitude and toasts to the more reserved men. One of whom just happens to be Squall -- or would be next, if Squall hadn't beaten him to the punch.

The title catches him off-guard. Brows raise, head tipping to one side before he turns to face the other. The look of unabashed surprise is replaced with one of merriment -- albeit softer than before. Softer, but no less lacking in warmth to rival that of the firebird's very flames.

"My friend," the prince greets with a playful bow, careful to keep his mug upright so that none of its contents spill. Then he circles around the table to occupy the spot next to him, and immediately is his mug raised again, this time in hopes that Squall will toast with him. "Surely my lord will not be opposed to a bit of company on this fine eve?" Now it's his turn to tease.

@talesofaether

[lake-archive]

Tactics

AO3 Link - Wattpad Link (coming soon)

Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Series: A Snake's Pit

Characters: Ibara Saegusa, Anja-Sophia 'Ann' Wolff (OC)

Summary: It bothers Ibara that he has no idea of the new employee. At all. While insignificant in the long run and having no concern for her keeping up appearances is important. And who knows what she might start if he doesn't gain her trust. Maybe it is a cultural thing. Thus he tries to switch things up a little… He comes to realize it isn't that simple however.

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Someone in Ibara's position usually knows the ins and outs of the workplace– Every room, every corner, every vent and every employee. It is just like a battlefield. How can he plan and strike if he doesn't know everything? Or at least as much as possible.Observe, learn, memorize. Dig as deep as you can. All while no one ever suspects a thing. After all, what is there to truly dislike about you? Now, you do not have to be popular or anything, but having a seemingly good relationship with everyone should be no problem. So, if needed, they won't see it coming if you trample right over them when they least expect it~

And yet there was someone who seemed to defy this very simple logic. Someone who seems to not act in line, according to his plan. The only one Ibara did not know what to expect from, the latest employee hired.

Anja–Sophia Wolff, barely considered an adult, gemini, average height for a European woman and most notably, German. She is the translator handling all sorts of affairs related to that task, no matter how insignificant. That was where the flow of information stops however and anything he could read up on the official documents proves to be useless. He nearly believed that someone may have wiped her records ahead of time, making it impossible to do a proper background check to begin with. It was information so generalized that it could have been anyone's data, she didn't really stick out. Granted, she doesn't have to stick out. She is solely staff and a good staff member makes no fuss whatsoever, best suited for behind the scenes work.

Not to mention that Anja works really hard in her field, always running from one place to the next or back to that small office or else her job would not get finished. On top of that she seemed punctual from what he could observe and needless to say, such hard workers are rare these days. Then again, should he expect anything less from her? No, he had expected this honestly and while Ibara could commend such effort it was not something he could really work with. Once more it was a little too general, nothing really personal. It was not something he could really work with. This was too general.

It wouldn't be the worst. However, when not knowing who to deal with here, it becomes a problem. She may play innocent yet could have ties going way beyond his imaginations. Maybe she is snooping around as she pleases whenever not looking, ready to sabotage CosPro when given a chance. Or he just hated the fact that there was someone around with seemingly no dirt on them! Nothing he could use to his advantage if he really had to! And so far there was no chance of finding out either!

He tried almost everything he could think of without cracking right then and there! He puts his usual kind demeanor on, always in good spirits yet polite. Greet her, start a conversation with mundane small talk, get deeper into the conversation and dig up whatever you can… If he could but it was impossible! Everything was so… General. She never got personal and if that could happen she always escaped, saying that she has to leave, either to continue working or back to university for an afternoon lecture. Reasonable excuses, they were in such an environment after all. Nothing he could argue against. Every single time. Maybe he was just being paranoid but who could blame him!? This woman had too many mysteries going on for his liking! Was she keeping her distance on purpose!? 

Wait actually… Maybe. It could be a cultural thing, or something she had been taught by her parents. But that would be even more of a reason to watch his back around Anja, make sure she would not get out of line. He wasn’t scared of her per se, she seemed harmless enough, just what she could be capable of. He didn’t know. There could be anything going on behind the scenes or in that mind of hers. It irked him. That doesn’t mean he would throw the towel and let chance decide the fate, oh no. That would be a mistake on all fronts. One simply cannot rely on luck. He had to take matters into his own hands here.

Today was no different. Do not make your intentions obvious, make it look like a simple coincidence. Yeah, just a coincidence. You just happened to bump into someone on your way there. You just so happen to see them. You just so happen to come across someone that day. Well, part of it was true. Ibara was not going to bother with entire schedules here and frankly, he had better things to do throughout his day. But whenever the chance arose, he would take it and strike. He was going to slither right in when Anja would least expect it. It was usually in the hallway once in a while, carrying her documents in a rather unsuspecting manner… A stack to be honest which should in theory be too heavy but she seemed to not really have any issues with it whatsoever. As always alone while working hard. If he waited she might escape and he couldn’t let that happen. So he just approached her from one moment to the next, greeting her right from behind: “Salute Anja–San!”

It certainly startled her enough to nearly lose her balance and fall on the ground, dropping the documents. However, she just barely managed to catch them and hold herself above ground… Or at least fall not flat on her face. It was then where she slowly turned around, peeking from the pile right then and there. Her eyes widened for a second, as if in utter shock, yet she seemed to shake it off quickly.

“Ah… H… Hello Saegusa–San…” Anja greeted him right back, though awfully quiet. As timid as always, she should be easy in theory… However, she wasn’t. Not even close. And he knows that it is going to irk him… 

“Haha, that looks heavy. Won’t you need any help with that?” He asked her, seeing it as the best chance. However, she only tilted her head at him in confusion.

“I… I’m ok. Thanks.” She responded, as short as ever. 

“Are you sure? I can take some of the load off you if you like.”

She shook her head rather quickly at that. “No need! Paper’s light!”

“Why yes, it’s not the heaviest thing in the world. However, may I remind you that you are carrying a tower here?”

“Still pretty light, really! I manage!” She insisted regardless. As stubborn as ever. But he couldn’t really force his ‘help’ upon her, could he? And she seemed fine, oddly enough… How is she not breaking together? Did she undergo some training by any chance? Ah, guessing around won’t bring him anywhere. And he is not interested in aspects like that.

“If you say so. I’ll leave it to you then.” He responded, keeping up with his ever so polite smile and good mood. However, on the inside he was getting frustrated. How was he supposed to squeeze anything out of her!? She doesn’t seem to respond to anything nor willing to open up! Nor was she increasing any of her sentences! Maybe she was using her not so fluent Japanese as an excuse yet he wasn’t having any of it! How to make her talk? Wait… Perhaps…

“By the way, how have you been doing in Japan so far? I imagine it’s a big jump for you.” He suddenly asked, attempting to steer the conversation into the direction of proper small talk, perhaps a cultural exchange. Maybe things would finally slip. It was worth a shot!

“Huh? Well, there are… Differences.”

Oh you don’t say!? “Haha, anything in particular which sticks out for you?” He continued however, ignoring the statement from before. 

“Eh!? Uhm… Not much special.”

“Oh come on,there has to be something! Like… Let’s see….”

“But I—”

“Ah, what about the beer? Surely you must have tasted some here while in Japan!”

“Eh? Bu—”

“I heard the quality of German beer is exquisite! Surely, you must have your opinions on Japanese—”

“Sorry, I do not… Like… Beer…” Anja responded very slowly, almost stuttering. This… Was not something he had expected. Or rather, it was unaccounted for. Surely he expected her to be curious at least. There goes that topic…

“Ah, really? What a shame. Sorry for asking then.” 

“I.. It’s fine…”

Things became awkward really quickly from that point onwards, silence suddenly kicking in out of nowhere. Both were just staring for a rather long time, not making a peep and at the brink of stopping to breathe perhaps.

That was until Anja turned around and suddenly said: “Anyway, I…. Carry these! Excuse me!” 

And before he could even stop her she was gone, her legs carrying her out of the hallway fairly quickly. All he could do was watch her hurrying away… Or a stack of papers with legs, depending on how you wanted to look at it. Once more in a hurry, a conversation cut short and with no results.

Yeah, this wasn’t as simple as he hoped. Then again, it never was.

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[walkonpooh]

Holly - Stephen King Review

** spoiler alert ** So in the afterward of Stephen King's newest novel, Holly (a continuation of the character Holly Gibney that first appeared in The Bill Hodges Trilogy, then The Outsider and the novella collection If It Bleeds and I believe is now his most written character other than Roland Deschain and the Ka-tet), Stephen King says that while Holly Gibney shares many of his own political beliefs and thoughts on life in the post-Trump Presidency and the time period when Covid was a national conversation, he hopes that if he were writing the opposite perspective, that he would be able to give that perspective justice. I don't know that I agree.

It doesn't take more than a brief glance at Stephen King's twitter feed to confirm that the man is obsessed with politics in the Trump era and specifically with Donald Trump himself. It could be he has always been this way and having easier and quicker access to his thoughts via social media confirms that, it's hard to say. It's clear to anyone who has ever read any one of his books, that Stephen King is a liberal. Always has been from when Carrie was published through now. So if you're reading a Stephen King book and you're mad that he's mad about Trump, then you're the problem. Not him.

I guess where I fall on this and granted, I haven't read everything of his (I've read 56 of his novels/short story collections and am working on the rest) is I feel he's gotten less adept at writing about politics, particularly in his fictional work (and his tweets to me read like MSNBC headlines, all bark no bite unlike Cujo). Like I said, he's always trashed republican politicians, even going back to the Reagan Administration, but he used to be so great at finding the voice of the modern, every day average person, regardless of that persons political view, they were a fleshed out character, that from their point of view, you could understand why they think the way they do.

I've only read If It Bleeds, Later and Holly in the Trump era (I think The Outsider was probably written before Trump), but I'm fairly positive Trump shows up in every one of those books, if only by name and every Trump supporting character is unintelligent, described in a way that gives them some sort of gross deformity or they're straight up evil. There's no attempt at examining why someone might support Donald Trump, beyond the fact that they're clearly just into authoritarianism.

There's no acknowledging the very real idea that at least in 2016, there was a group of Bernie supporters that also supported Donald Trump, because they were both espousing populist ideas. I know a lot of highly intelligent people that support Trump, but have reservations about the man himself, his actions, tweets, but love his policies. But even horrific politicians in his previous books, guys who in their respective stories like Greg Stillson, do even worse things (uh hello global nuclear war) than what Trump did in actuality, there's a kernel of understanding that Stephen King writes into them. It gives us interest and like/hate in those characters.

So yeah, it's impossible not to not talk about this, because it's such a glaring thing in the book. I don't think wrongly. In the period Holly takes place, Donald Trump, Joe Biden and Covid were large topics (I feel the same way about his treatment of unvaccinated people (I have the latest booster FYI so I'm completely vacc'd), he doesn't seem to understand there are reasons why someone might be unvaccinated other than to "own the libs"). So that out of the way...

Holly Gibney of the Finders Keepers private detective agency has a new case. Bonnie Dahl has gone missing and her mother Penny has hired Holly, based on recommendations, to find her missing daughter. Initially reluctant to take the case because she had recently lost her own mother due to complications with Covid and her own proclivities, Holly begins to look into the case, to discover that several people have gone missing in that area.

Meanwhile, Professors Rodney and Emily Harris, an elderly couple that are semi-retired, have a dark secret hidden in their basement.

Okay. So I do *not* feel this is a spoiler. Stephen King intentionally lets you know, just as he did in Mr. Mercedes, very quickly who the killer(s) are. That's certainly a method. One that, for me, Stephen King doesn't do a great job at fulfilling here. While yes, I'm, sickened by what the killer of Mr. Mercedes did, or the Harris' do here in Holly, there's no tension for me. There's not a second of this book, especially with how much Stephen King has talked about in interviews and the like, that I'm worried for Holly Gibney. I know she'll have some scars mentally and physically, but I know she's going to make it through.

I *liked* this book. I didn't love it. It was sort of middling Stephen King for me. I think where it misses the mark for me is the "Alfred Hitchcock bomb under the table" method of storytelling, where I think Hitchcock is a master at, these pseudo detective stories that Stephen King has been doing, I'm not sure they click for me in the way that he wants them to. And again, King used to be a master at this with things like "That was the last time they ever saw __________ alive". The reveals of the killers here and in Mr. Mercedes just undercuts the tension for me. There's nothing from them in the way that Stephen King has been great at in the past (making amazing, sympathetic villains). They're doing horrific stuff for minimal gains it seems like, they're what, if what they believe *is* true, which the novel undercuts, then they're extending their lives by a few years at best. That's just not all that interesting for me

Where the book does work and for me it's the same thing as in If It Bleeds, is the character of Holly Gibney. I'm with King in that she's one of the best things that he's done in the last decade. I'm just not completely on board with this having been a story worthy of Holly. Especially a titular story. I don't know that we learned anymore about Holly here than we did in previous stories with her. In fact I don't feel like there's a lot of character development at all for Holly, she's much the same at the beginning and end of the novel.

One of the reasons I *liked* the novel is the interactions between Jerome and Vera Steinman. I thought that was one aspect of the story where King absolutely nailed what he was going for here. The horror of the situation, the grief and impact of losing a loved one in a horrific way. I loved every time those two characters were with one another and would love to see Jerome, especially with his life taking off, expanded upon further.

Lastly, I feel like I'm confused about Holly's age. I don't know if it's because of the actors who have portrayed her, but my impression of Holly in The Outsider and If It Bleeds was that she was in her thirties. Was there a time skip that I'm not aware of, because King clearly states that she is in her early fifties here.

So yeah, I feel like I was mostly critical here. I'm sure many people will disagree with my thoughts here. But I love Stephen King and his works. Even when I disagree with him (not even saying I disagree with him in many topics that he covers in Holly, just don't think he was successful for me in conveying these topics). I wouldn't have read as much of him as I have if I were not. So if you liked Mr. Mercedes and that trilogy, then I would recommend Holly. If you were more into the supernatural aspects of The Outsider and If It Bleeds, well, maybe you'd be a little more middling to Holly like myself.

3/5

[hxdrostorms]

@amalgamatus has sent: Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Invisible Man, The Wolf Man

universal classic monster headcanon asks!  [Accepting, SPECIFY MUSE]

Creature from the Black Lagoon:

has your muse ever discovered / seen something unusual? did they try to tell anyone about it? how did others respond?

// That's the funniest part about Shaka. He doesn't notice anything odd or any possible red flags coming from the pope, for 13 years. Shaka has always been perceived and seen as, one of their very best saints. He is known as "the man that's closest to Gods" for a reason, after all.

Despite that, he was unable to see the obvious, while serving the pope very closely as a counsellor of sorts. In order for Shaka to be able to truly channel his powers, he keeps his eyes closed and solely relies on his abilities to read other cosmos. He only opens his eyes under extreme conditions. Shaka always vouched for the pope's genuine good intentions, because that was precisely what he sensed from him. He weaponized it to dispell, any form of rumors or questionings towards their leader.

Shaka directly contributed for Saga, to maintain his secret for all these many years. Thankfully, he more than makes up for it, during their fight against Hades spectres and the renegade saints. Since, he is the one who found out the answer, for them to get a chance to fight against their real enemy.

The Invisible Man:

does your muse feel unseen by the people around them? do they find it difficult to make others take notice of them? how does being ignored / unnoticed make them feel?

// The only context where Shaka goes unnoticed is, during the few missions he is sent out to the mundane world. Where he isn't surrounded by cosmos sensitive people, and he is truly just another person in the crowd. This really doesn't bother him, it is almost appreciated even.

Because, that's impossible to happen while at the Sanctuary. As a Gold saint, he already carries almost a status of celebrity, even more so while having a cosmos of his caliber. This is both good/normal, in his everyday life. it also doesn't bother him (it is not like he can acknowledge even half of them). It's bad, because he can't quite conceal it, so he may as well be a bright lamp that attracts their enemies.

The Wolf Man:

has your muse ever made a mistake that had lasting repercussions? what was it / were they? do they still regret their actions, or have they moved on?

// This is connected with the first question's answe.

Yes! Shaka was just another tool that Saga used, in order to keep him in his position of power. Needless to say, how once Shaka had his eyes opening moment through his fight against the bronze saints, and learned the truth. He had to do a lot of humbling. It is a shame he doesn't get an oportunity to do much, to make up for his serious mistake in life (Poseidon + Hades arcs happens back to back).

At least, Shaka is capable of forgiving himself with his remaining colleagues. More specifically both Mu and especially Aiolia, who has been in the receiving end of their weaponized torment, for many years.

[circumcisioninjaipur]

Ensuring Good Penis Health After Circumcision

Circumcision is one of the oldest surgical procedures. Practiced for thousands of years, it can be done for cultural, religious, social or medical reasons. No matter a man's reason for having a circumcision done, it's vitally important that he pays very close attention to good penis care in the days and weeks following the procedure. The more good care he gives himself, the better penis health and sensation he will be able to maintain for the rest of his life as a circumcised man.

 Of course, keep in mind that the tips below are for the majority of circumcision cases; a guy who has a more complicated case or other surgical procedures done in addition to circumcision might want to take these tips with a grain of salt. What matters most is following the surgeon's directions for recovery to the letter. And when in doubt, never hesitate to call the physician! Circumcision In Jaipur

 Pursuing an uneventful circumcision recovery

 For most men, circumcision can take well under an hour. If there are medical problems, such as a too-tight foreskin or infection, those problems can begin to resolve almost immediately upon completion of the procedure. Here's what to expect from a routine recovery:

 1. Expect serious bruising and swelling. This is typical of any surgery, not just one done on the penis. In fact, the bruising after surgery can be quite shocking, so don't be alarmed if it appears that the entire manhood is covered in bruised splotches. This will go away over a matter of weeks. Best Circumcision Surgeon in jaipur

 2. Use the pain medication. Though there isn't significant pain associated with a circumcision, there is still some discomfort. Painkillers will be prescribed, so use them. Don't be surprised if they are only necessary for a few days, however. Many men are surprised at how quickly the pain goes away.

 3. Take care with urination. Yes, it's probably going to hurt when a guy pees after the circumcision. To alleviate this, he can drink plenty of water to stay hydrated and dilute the urine. He can also apply a bit of petroleum jelly to the tip of the penis before and after he urinates, to help keep the acidity away from the more sensitive areas.

 4. Avoid certain activities and movement. It's important to give the penis ample time to heal. This means all sexual activity is off-limits for at least a few weeks. It also means a guy must be extra-careful not to let the penis bump into anything, suffer any sort of trauma, or otherwise be handled roughly. That means avoiding contact sports and wearing underwear that holds the penis snugly, to avoid the natural side-to-side movement when he walks around.

 5. Use only what the doctor prescribes. It might be tempting to use natural oils, creams and the like when the penis is healing. This is never a good idea. Use only the crèmes the doctor suggest during those first few weeks, as the use of anything else could interfere with healing. Though the use of a good penis health crème is encouraged after the healing is complete, don't reach for it while the wound is still healing!

 6. Try to avoid erections. That means a guy doesn't want to spend his time looking at adult videos! He also wants to try to avoid nocturnal erections, though this is understandably impossible to eliminate completely. A few tips include ensuring the bladder is always as empty as possible, which might mean getting up a few times at night to urinate. Lying on his side in a fetal position can also help a guy alleviate some of the erections he might get at night.

[jaeminscoffee]

Knee highs and short skirts | N. Jm

Pairing- Na Jaemin x reader

Genre- Smut, fluff, college!au

Word count- 3.82k

Warning(s)- nsfw, softdom!Jaemin, pretty pwp, corruption kink, slight voyeurism? (they make out in public) possessiveness, dacryphilia (getting aroused by one crying or sobbing), fingering (for prep), unprotected sex (play it safe y'all this is a fiction), slightly inexperienced?reader, unintentional overstimulation (unintentional LMAOO), pretty filthy i say. Lyra back at it with smuts lol

Synopsis- It was hard to imagine that all it took was skirts and high knee socks and cute little jumpy girls for Jaemin to get highly turned on, but here we are.

Type- requested!

@kpopscape​

It was hard to imagine that all it took was skirts and high knee socks and cute little jumpy girls for Jaemin to get highly turned on. 

Watching you as you entered the campus had always been a sort of daily serotonin boost for Jaemin. More like, watching you smile and wave at every passing acquaintance regardless of the fact whether you spoke with them or not was a serotonin boost for Jaemin. You were extremely intriguing. 

You're a jolly person, an extreme extrovert, shy at first glance of course but nevertheless outgoing, you'd had little to no problem at all at making friends. Your close ones called you the human magnet and most would agree to it. Could you help it? Company is always better than being alone (unless preferred to be alone).

The first time Jaemin saw you was when you came into the campus first bumping into not his, but a very pissed Jeno's back in a very cliché way which resulted in him accidentally pour out his anger on you, which led to Jaemin having to find you later in the day to apologize on Jeno's behalf. That experience had a very interesting impression on the two lads, well, a not too positive impression on Jeno but the opposite for Jaemin. 

The next time Jaemin saw you was in his philosophy class, and god bless you and your perfect complexion complimenting all your curves and edges and oh of course, that cute black and white knee high socks that you wore with a skirt a little too short for him to stay sane and a sweatshirt loose enough to give you adorable sweater paws. That's when wanting to see you on a daily basis became Jaemin's sole reason to attend college. 

The next time was weeks into talking to each other, getting comfortable to a point where you went over to each other's house, exchanged numbers, went on small platonic dates and where your friendship started to turn into a touchy one, and you absolutely loved it. Well, Jaemin loved it more than you. Watching your face flush when he'd place his hands comfortably a little too close to there on your thigh had him feel sorts of emotions he's never felt. How your eyes would widen each time he'd place playfull kisses on your cheeks, or when he pulled you onto his lap to cuddle up closer when watching a movie or two, Jaemin lived for your reaction. 

Weeks after that was at a small dinner send off party of sort by one of your friends for the senior batch, where seeing you in a white body fitting turtleneck full sleeve with a grey skirt consisting of blue hue with a plain white knee high sock had him crave you more than before. When the occasional touches and kisses turned into a form of self destruction for Jaemin and those longing touches turned into a want to take it up a notch. 

And maybe it's the fact that Jaemin genuinely seemed intriguing to you, or the slight intoxicity you felt after a glass of not that strong of drink went down your throat, making you want to comply with everything Jaemin wanted. The expression he wore of pure bliss and satisfaction had you feeling proud of yourself. Like you're doing the right thing, like standing in a hallway beside your classmates bedroom with his hands around your waist in a vise grip, face inches away from colliding into a passionate kiss where anyone could bump into you two was a right thing to do. Like not caring about the all 'good mean no bad' girl image you'd formed to fade away in front of your classmates and probably next the entire campus was the right thing to do. 

The next time, well, this moment right now when you went over with him to his studio apartment hand in hand after evening lectures, it had been nearly impossible for Jaemin to keep his hands to himself. How your lips pucker into a pout complaining about all the workload you have, how you jump up in excitement at the sudden strike of another topic you want to discuss with him, or how you seemed so dreamy in general and all Jaemin could do was stare at you with an expression of pure admiration, desire and want to change the whole innocent image you held. 

"so Mr. Li asked him to-ah!" and all he could do was pull you onto his lap with his hand on your hip to hold you up in place and unintentionally cut your sweet voice's narration short, but he wanted to hear you more, "I'm listening, doll. Keep going"  he cooed at your flushed expression at the sudden proximity, pulling you closer to connect you two by the hip, tapping at your now exposed thighs as your skirt had ridden up at the shift in position to urge you to step out of your daze and continue speaking. 

"What.-what are you doing, Jaem?" you ask, resting your hands on his chest as you push yourself a little back to create some space, clearly astonished at the sudden spark of something at the area between your sock clad legs, only to be pulled back closer towards him once again. 

"Something I've wanted to do for a long time, keep going, baby, I'll just be doing my thing" and so you let your hand rest on his chest while continuing your story as he looked intently at you.

Being in such proximity with Jaemin had never been a new thing, it's how no matter how many times you'd see him up close you'd still can't look him straight in the eyes for more than a few seconds because of how strong his gaze is that would have you flustered. Ever since the said party, your first proper kiss and Jaemin's first step to calling you his, you wanted to stick around him and just him. You felt like yourself around him and he made you feel so loved that you were willing to let him do anything just to have him around. 

In Jaemin's case, it was that he'd not move forward with his plans if he'd noticed the slightest of discomfort in any of your actions, fearing that you'd leave him once and for all before he could even call you his. And so in that way, you two did what pleased the others the best. 

Smiling at how you slowly got comfortable with his warmth, he leaned forward, slightly startling you but you nevertheless continued speaking, "Show his homework to him, b-but he couldn't because the only co-opy he had.." you squeal in a breath as you feel his breath fan your exposed neck, courtesy of wearing a slightly deep V-neck to college and of course to the hangout that day, "Had..?" 

Jaemin rasped in a voice a little too low to what you're used to hearing, dangerously low that you felt yourself squirming under his grip, which elicits a groan from the male. Not knowing the weightage of your action, you accidentally end up doing it again as his plush lips come in contact with the sensitive skin. "H-had was.. mine-" 

"Mine, a pretty word, right doll?" The feeling of his lip moving against your skin was ticklish to describe the best, but good, good enough to have keeping your legs closed uncomfortable from the sudden pool of arousal that bedded itself in your foolishly white panties. "Yes..?" you answer with a shaky voice, moving once again to get rid of the said uncomfortable feeling which resulted in Jaemin throwing his head back to rest on the head rest of the couch, his perfect eyebrows furrowed into a frown, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. 

"Darling, if you keep moving like this, i won't be able to stop myself from doing what all I've imagined doing to you," he spoke with the same low voice of his, which had you unintentionally moving regardless of the empty warning that lingered in the air. That's when you notice the visible switch in the way Jaemin looked at you.  Determined to carry this forward and put an end to the friends title to develop into a whole new one.

"What you've imagined doing to me? W-wha-?" you let the question linger, not really expecting an answer when he looked at you with a smirk on his perfect lips. He let one of his hands off from your side to comb through your perfectly set hair while the other wrapped around your torso to keep you upright. 

"Should i tell you what I've imagined?" Surely fueled by desire, Jaemin still counted on your consent, basic etiquette and he wouldn't let it go down the drain just because of his lust. The silent look of curiosity gave it away that you really wanted to walk through the dream boys imagination, so you nod your head. "Words, darling. I need words"

Looking at him patiently waiting for your verbal confirmation, you swallow down the nervousness before looking him straight in the eyes with your own widened ones, "Y-yes."

"Hm, well, I imagined having you close to me, just like this, all responsive to everything I do."

"Then I imagined feeling that soft lips of yours once again, the one that I remember so vaguely. Will you let me taste it once again?" He asked, leaning in closer than what your bodies would allow, nevertheless feeling ecstatic at the effect he has on you. "Hm?" you could obviously not say no to the expression he wore, filled with excitement and expectations, happiness, desire and maybe.. love? 

Instead of answering, you lean forward, closing off the small distance that kept your bodies from colliding, pressing your lips onto his with least force. The type of kiss got both of you feeling hot, bubbly as you feel Jaemin smile against your lips. 

The kiss was a mix of aggression and passion, slow and fast, lust and innocent emotions, one strong enough to deliver all sorts of emotions and of course, sloppy out of desperation, "Still as sweet as ever," he speaks against your lips, beaming down at you with the same smile as you refuse to meet his gaze at the sudden shyness that overtook your desire. 

Jaemin's hands slip up the open clothing to grip your thigh raw, the feeling of his cold fingers making you shift position again, looking down and cowering behind your palms as you shield your heated face from the lad, "What's wrong doll?" he moves his thumb up and down, massaging the skin he had his grip on, "Talk to me, princess, do you want me to stop?" 

"No!.. I mean, n-no, it's just.. I've never done this before, ever" As though your usual behavior never gave it away that you're too innocent for anyone existing in the world, you confirm Jaemin's suspicion all the more, to which his smile only just widened, the burning desire to change the status if innocence way too strong for him to contain himself now, "I know, darling, I'll go slow, alright?"

At your nod of confirmation, he wastes no time to lift your shirt out of it's confinement inside your skirt and over your head to reveal a not so appealing bra, yet, Jaemin thought you looked absolutely exquisite in it. Just a plain white lace bra, a cherry on top to the innocent image you held that he oh so much wanted to destroy, "W-wait! Can.. C-can this..-nevermind," you sigh, not wanting to disappoint the boy in front of you at your insecurity, "Can what, baby?" you shake your head, "Tell me, love"

"Can..can the bra stay on.. Just this once..?" you ask in a soft voice as Jaemin notices your tiny gestures of an attempt to cover yourself a little, feeling a little too hot, "Do you want it to stay on?" he asks in a voice all too understanding, no signs on the disappointment you were worried about, you nod, "Then it stays on" he smiles before placing a chaste kiss at the valley of your chest and swiftly shifts you on his lap in a way that your back rest flat on his chest, a hand secured on your waist to hold you as close as possible.

You feel a sort of warmth spread through your body at Jaemin's understanding and non persistent behavior towards your request as you allow yourself to relax and go limp on his body, "Do you know how many times i've imagined this? You on my lap.." he moves his legs to break your legs apart, using his knees to spread them and hold them open, "All pretty and for me to touch," He attaches his lips to your neck once again with a better access this time as he lets his hands wander up and down your legs, the hand that held your waist moving down to bunch up your skirt and pull it up to reveal to leaking mess you'd become which made Jaemin twitch and you shy. 

"All wet for me, and for me only" you whimper at his shameless words as his wandering hands move closer to your heat, cupping it as he felt up the wetness he'd caused to form there, a throaty groan escaping him while doing so as you feel yourself jump at the friction you got for a second at the place you needed it the most. The thought of someone other than you touching your sex causing your insides to twist, in the best way possible of course. 

Jaemin resumed to feel up and down your wetness from over the fabric while still keeping his lips attached to your neck, just to make sure you were wet enough to take him, or better, his fingers. 

"J-Jaemin..," 

You let out a loud moan feeling his fingers directly over your clit once he pushed you drenched panty aside, coating his fingers with your arousal before easing one slender digit in, causing your back to arch.

Way too sensitive and aroused, it was obvious you wouldn't be long until your first high, and Jaemin knew that all too well as he felt your tight walls clench over one little finger when he started pulsing it in and out of you and a steady pace, minding to not make it too much for you, though, that thought seemed highly appealing to him, but he'd rather save it for the next time.

"Does that feel good, my love? Because watching you look all angelic like this for me is what I'd imagined next" he speaks against your hair, as you try to close in your leg at the friction you're getting suddenly becoming overwhelming for you, added to that came in Jaemin's words, talks, voice laced in adoration and pure want. "Y-yes Jaem, oh god.. "

Silently moaning himself at your godly sounds, he continues penetrating you to your first ever not self made orgasm, eliciting a loud high pitched scream from your side at the very intimidating feeling at the bottom of your stomach, feeling it undo as Jaemin coaxes your first orgasm out of you,

"Just like that darling, you're doing so well, so good for me" he coos, wanting to drag your orgasm a little more, as he lowers his unoccupied hands to draw small, slow circles around your clit, making you spasm uncontrollably over him, feeling your eyes glaze over at the now painful feeling, you push his hands meekly away from your core, 

Shocked over the fact that he got you to come for him with just a finger, he added another one in, muttering silent apologies at your sudden pleas for a break to make sure your stretched out enough for that upcoming activity, "Just a little more, my strong girl, just a little more," though sorry for dragging your orgasm, he felt himself get lost at your small sobs and tiny tears falling down the side of your face which he pecked away.

Increasing the speed of his hands, he presses his thumb over your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves once again, making your arch your back in a painful angle, the crown of your head resting on his shoulder as you shake your head at him, letting him know that it was getting too much for you to handle, 

"Come for me once again, baby. We need to make sure you're prepared enough, hm? Can you do that for me?"

As if on command, you let yourself fall apart once again, a loud cry resonating through the room along with you crunching your legs up to stop the burning from the intense high, Jaemin whispering praises against your hair while running his hand up and down your forearm to soothe you. "You did so well, doll, want to stop here?" he inquired selflessly, not caring about the fact that he's extremely hard and it had taken a painful toll.

You take a second to calm your breathing as Jaemin patiently waits for your response. Making sure your breathing is normal again, you shake your head from it's position on his shoulder as he presses a kiss onto your wet cheeks, "You need to feel good too.." you speak with your eyes barely open, Jaemin smiling softly against your cheek, "Love."

You let out a sound of confusion at the random word blurted out by him as you turn your head to look at him, "Say the word 'love' if it gets too much for you, alright?" you nod, at no further actions from his side, you look at him once again, realising he's all about the verbal confirmation, "Alright.." you squeal out, "Turn around and sit facing me, doll" he hurries.

Jaemin rushes to remove his skinny jeans alongside his boxers when you lift yourself up, letting his member stand tall and free from confinement, making him feel like he can finally breathe. Slightly intrigued by the above average size, you look at him nervously which had his head turn at your innocent expression, "We'll take it slow, darling, nothing to hurt you, hm?" you nod before replying out loud. 

He gestures for you to hover yourself above his hardness once he got the panties out of the way and discarded it somewhere out on the wooden floor of his housing. "Go for it whenever you're ready" wanting to give you full control of the pace for now, he let you take your time for your first ever time. 

Chest heaving up and down in both excitement and nervousness you slowly lower yourself, knees beside his thighs, hands a vise grip on his shoulder, letting yourself engulf just a little of his member, you wince, still a little sensitive from the previous orgasms, his hardness much thicker and bigger than his fingers to just ease down quick despite how easy it'd be considering the wet mess he'd made of you, "Jaemin.. " 

Contributing from his end, he pushes his hips up to get inside you a little more, not too fast for it to be painful for you. Slowly, you let yourself ease down on him completely, sitting down onto his lap with his dick inside of you, twitching at the warmth he finally felt. Jaemin hushes your silent cry of slight pain, "You feel so good around me, doll. Such a good girl for me, " 

You take the initiative to lift yourself up just a little so that more than half of him is out and glistening from your arousal making him let out an airy moan of satisfaction, feeling your tightness, finally after only having imagined how it felt for so long.

You move up and down slowly, thighs trembling, heart pacing fast with pride at the feeling of making him feel good from all the sounds he let out, mind hazy and body covered in sweat. "oh my, Jae-Jaem-ah!" you fall limp over his body at the sudden thrust from his end, maybe from growing too impatient. 

"Should i take it from here, darling? I need to come, will you make me come, doll?" you mumble out a bunch of 'yes!' as your face falls into the nape of his neck where you nibbled at the skin like how he'd done. 

Jaemin took control once again, a sudden burst of energy sparking through his body as he set a fast pace in pistoning in and out of you, your slickness and his precum ensuring it wouldn't be painful for you, rather, it felt extremely good. "Look at my good girl taking me so well, you're making me feel so good, darling, I'm so.. Uh, I'm so close-" 

You clench around him when you feel a knot forming once again for the third time that evening when you feel his tip brush against your sweet spot, eliciting a loud gasp from you as you bite down a little too harder than intended on his hot skin while pressing the side of your face against his broad shoulders. "Jaemin.. Jaem, I'm.. Oh god"

"I know, doll, i know.. Me too, let go for me" he holds your hips in a grip tight enough to leave a light bruise or two while reaching between your bodies to find comfort on your clit again, making you let out a choked moan as Jaemin ended up being the one doing most of the work. 

You fall off the edge once again, this time harder than the previous ones as your tears slip and fall onto his shoulder, seeping into his shirt and onto the skin, making him go faster, chasing his high while dragging yours for a second or two longer. 

"Jaem, too much..it hurts-" you sob in a whiny tone which was more than enough to throw Jaemin off his edge too, rubbing fast circles on your clit while ribbons of his essence coat your walls as he lets out a loud, long groan of your name.

He stops his moment on your clit, but continues to move slowly to draw out all the arousal from his member, only stopping when he feels himself grow soft inside of you, the feeling making you clench around him weakly which makes him jolt due to the sensitivity.

Knowing it'd only make a mess to remove himself from inside you, he decides to stay in, muttering out a series of praises that he let linger in the air. 

"That.. felt good," you speak into the silence, voice hoarse and weak, worn out from all the activity as you silently thank him for making you feel so good, a sense of accomplishment spread through his chest, finally fulfilling his wish of corrupting you, and most importantly, making you his. He kisses your forehead after pushing out strands of tresses that covered it, 

"Anything for my babygirl"