#fuck now that i'm thinking about it too much i might shave off my beard too

[lillyviarabbit]

if only wishing could change things, but i'm too paralyzed to act

[bigification]

Spiked

Friday,

I feel strong, but these protein shakes haven't been helping my bulk as much as I want. I'm still too skinny. Maybe I should give them more time though, I've only been taking them for a couple weeks after all. I'll try bumping it up to two a day, and I'll eat more, that should help.

I pick up my phone as I leave the gym and stare at the Grindr app. Should I? Is it fair to Dean that I keep bringing back guys to our place. This would be the fourth time this week, I think I can hold off for his sake. Anyway, I put away my phone and head back to my apartment.

"How was the workout?" Dean asked when I got home. I'm shocked, he's never really been interested in my workouts before. We used to go together before we were roommates but now that we live together, the gym is a rare activity we do apart. Besides, he hasn't really been going that much recently.

"Oh, it was good... I'm just not bulking as much as I want to." I reply.

"That must be why you got those protein shakes, huh?"

Why is he taking so much notice of this stuff now? We can share the shakes if he really wants to, he might just be trying to motivate himself to get back in the gym. But he could just ask if that's what he wants. "Ya, I'm gonna try to drink more, maybe that'll help." I say as I go to the fridge and grab one.

"That's good." Dean says in a flat tone, he usually does this when he's lost interest in a conversation.

I get distracted from the conversation anyway as I drink the shake. Something seems different about it, it's got a bit of a bitter aftertaste now. I figure it's probably just me getting tired of the taste and shrug it off.

Saturday,

I wake up in a cold sweat. This was unusual given that I get up every day at this time to go to the gym. I look to the clock and it's... 10 o'clock. Holy shit, I slept in. I'm usually at the gym by 8. I calm down a bit when I remember it's Saturday, so I have nothing to do anyway.

I roll out of bed and hobble my way to the bathroom. My head is spinning and my stomach is growling, I felt hungover. I didn't drink last night did I? I don't really remember. However, all of that leaves my mind in an instant when I look in the mirror. I rub my eyes and look again. Where do I even begin. An itchy beard now covers my face, despite the fact that I shaved yesterday morning. My sweat glistened on my distended stomach, my six pack buried under a soft bloat. My pecs are swollen and slightly rounded.

What the fuck. My mind is trying to process what's happening, but it can't. I turn to the side and see the subtle S shape in my stomach and my ass. Was it the shake? It couldn't have been, it hasn't done shit for me in weeks and now it does this! You know what, this is fine. I pinch my stomach. It's mostly bloated, just a small layer of fat, nothing I can't work off in a couple weeks. If anything this will give me a head start on my bulk.

I throw on some of my loose gym clothes that do a decent job at hiding my physique, but I still look different. I grab my gym back and try to sneak out, I don't want Dean seeing me like this. I quickly try to rush out the door, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Dean.

"I didn't know you were still home, you usually leave before I get up." He says nonchalantly.

"Oh ya... I just decided to sleep in today." I pull my bag to cover my stomach.

"Okay, have fun at the gym. Nice beard by the way, when did you decide to grow it out."

"I've just been a bit lazy with shaving it, that's all." I'm sweating buckets.

"Well it looks good, you should keep it." He smiles at me.

I can feel myself blush, so I smile and get out as quickly as possible. I chug a protein shake on the way to the gym, noting that bitter aftertaste again. It's probably nothing, I have bigger issues to deal with.

Once I start my workout, I feel pretty self conscious about my body. I know no one else could know that something is off, but I still feel off. But as the workout goes on, I start feeling more and more comfortable. I start hitting more reps than I ever have before, though cardio is a bit of a slog. It doesn't matter, I feel surprisingly great. I finish off the workout great, and flex in the mirror for a bit of a confidence boost.

I drink another shake on the way home. As I get home, Dean seems to be waiting for me. He asks how my workout was again. He's acting so weird again. I decide to spend the rest of the day out, drinking the night away. I am bulking after all.

Sunday,

I wake up feeling like I got hit by a truck, with no memory of how much I drank last night. I've never felt like this after a night out though. The more I think about it, the more my mind points me to the shakes. They have to have something to do with this. I don't have time for this right now though, I have to get to the gym.

I brush my teeth and shave, I'm shocked at the beard I grew in just two days. I try throwing on some clothes, but I feel some resistance. My largest gym shirt no longer fits, there's always a sliver of skin showing and it goes past my belly button when I reach up. My shorts fit a bit better, but they hug my ass very tight. I think I'll have to buy some new clothes on the way home.

The workout goes similarly to yesterday. I start self conscious of the fact that my belly is showing and my shorts look like they're about to rip. But the worry escapes my mind when I destroy my routine. I feel so strong.

I feel great by the time my workout ends. I head to the locker room and take off my shirt. Yeesh, I have a full on beer belly now. This is no longer just a bloat, my stomach is covered in a thick layer of fat. I didn't even know you could gain this much fat in only a couple of days, and I'm not even eating that much. And what's with the beard, I shaved this morning and it's already coming back in. Although my arms are looking massive, I could even feel my sleeves stretch from my biceps when I was working out. I stare at my belly a bit as I think about what to do.

I throw on my shirt again and head out. I pull up to a clothing store and pick out a few loose gym clothes that should fit me if I bulk even more.

"Hi, where are the change rooms." I ask an employee.

"Oh.." he pauses for a moment, looking at my belly. I notice that my shirt is riding up more than it was this morning. I instinctively cover my exposed belly with my arms and shrivel up in embarrassment.

"Just over there sir." He awkwardly points to the back of the store.

I grab a few larger clothes on the way out and leave the store as fast as humanly possible. I instinctively down another shake on the way home. Dean didn't say anything to me when I got home, but he glanced at me and then looked away. He is acting so strange.

I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a rattling coming from the kitchen. I walk out to investigate and see Dean doing something with the protein shakes. Is he secretly drinking them at night? He could just ask and I would give some to him. But I see him pour something into the shake and then close it back up again before putting them back in the fridge. What the hell? I try to think of what he could be doing. He stashes something away in the bottom of the cupboard and starts walking back to his bedroom. I quickly hide in my room until I hear his door close, and then I go back to the kitchen to investigate. I look at the protein shakes in the fridge and notice their seals have been broken, I can't believe I never noticed that. I move over to the cupboard and find a small bag with white powder in it. It looks like coke, but why the fuck would Dean put coke in my shakes. And besides, I don't think fat, muscle, and hair growth are symptoms of coke. Maybe I'll give him a taste of his own medicine. I go back to the fridge and pull out the jug of orange juice that Dean drinks every morning. I have no idea how much he put in my shakes, so I just pour a bunch in. I kind of feel like a secret agent, sneaking in a mysterious powder into his drink. I would feel worse, but he already did this to me so I'm fine ignoring my morals this time.

I head to bed, lying awake in my bed for a while. Thinking about what I just did, thinking about the results. It's making it hard to fall asleep, but I eventually do.

Monday,

I wake up feeling better than I had the past few days. I go through my normal routine, throw on my gym clothes, and grab a bite to eat. When I open the fridge, i see the orange juice and protein shakes and I'm reminded of my situation. Every morning I get a few moments of blissful ignorance before it's ripped away. I think for a bit, then grab a couple shakes and put in my bag. I'm kinda liking this new me, the strong me, and the belly is definitely growing on me. I catch my reflection in the mirror as I head out, I'm really committing to this aren't I? I ask myself as I look at the bushy beard that has engulfed my face and the belly and moobs that are unmistakable under my shirt. I smile and then head to the gym.

Every day that I spend at the gym, I get less self conscious. I almost forget about the fact that my hairy gut I exposed to the world whenever I reach up. I only care about the fact that I have been increasing the weight on my workouts every day and it feels amazing.

I take a shower and get dressed for work... Oh shit. I never bought work clothes that fit me, I'm reminded when I try in vain to button up my dress shirt. I stop by the store again and grab a couple shirts and pairs of pants. The thought of the protein shake in my car makes me think of the future, so I buy a few clothes in larger sizes too.

I barely make it to work on time. The day went by fast, but all I could remember were the stares and the comments from coworkers. "You forget to shave this morning Santa?" "Might want to lay off the doughnuts in the break room buddy." "We're concerned about your health." "Did you forget to stop bulking?" That was all I heard today. It was embarrassing at first, but it soon turned to encouraging. Each sly comment just makes me want to grow more. It honestly makes me realize how much I'm enjoying growing, and makes me even more excited to see what happens to Dean. It was hard to keep my dick in my pants today, I think the only reason no one noticed was because they were too busy staring at my gut.

I make it back home after work and dress down to my underwear first thing. Damn I am getting hairy, I run my hands through the forest of hair that has grown all over my body. As I'm doing so, an amazing idea runs through my mind. I'm gonna surprise Dean. There's no way I can hide the changes in my body regardless of how baggy my clothes are, so I'm just gonna show it off. I lay down on the couch by the front door, still only in my underwear, and I wait for him to show up.

"I'm hom- Oh hey..." Dean stutters as he sees me.

"Hey bud, what's up." I say nonchalantly.

"Just tired from work, where are your clothes?"

"I had a crazy workout today, just figured I'd air out a bit. Ever since I started this bulk, things have really taken off for me at the gym." I say while I rub my gut. In trying my best to make him uncomfortable and it seems to be working.

"Okay, well if you need me I'll be in my room." He quickly scurries into his room.

I just chuckle to myself and continue rubbing my belly. I wonder if there's any leftovers in the fridge?

Tuesday,

Same old same old. Get out of bed, get dressed, shave, grab a shake and head to the gym.

I feel so imposing at the gym now. I think I've gotten taller, because I look down on almost every now. I have a beard and a deeper voice than I used to, and not to mention the big gut and strong biceps. I'm like the biggest guy here, and people treat me like it. Women and men stare, and people tend to let me use the machines I want. I also notice myself grunting when I work out, I wonder if the entire gym can hear it. Anyway, the point is I feel amazing. This is the first day I dropped cardio because who fucking needs it, I sure don't. Now I focus purely on mass gain. I'm tired of holding back and I don't care what other people think, I want more.

I arrived at work, rocking far more confidence than I did yesterday, and people noticed. I don't care if they stare or comment, and I don't care that my dress shirt is already too small for me. People even asked me how I gained as much muscle as it did that fast. I just tell them to eat a shit ton and drink protein shakes, but maybe once the jig is up with Dean I'll ask him how to get the powder. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing some of the men at work blow up like I did. This is not the time to think about it though, it's getting hard to hide my boner at work. The only thing hiding it when I sit down is my gut.

I get home and notice Dean is home too. He must have stayed home, I wonder if it's because of the powder. He won't seem to leave his room though, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see the results.

I just decide to change into some comfortable clothes and eat my heart out. Though I'm shocked at how small my once 'baggy' clothes are. They barely fit past my stomach, and they ride up past my belly button when I lift my arms.

Fuck I'm getting fat. There is nothing hotter to me right now than the thought of my body growing. I make my way to the kitchen and grab a few more shakes and start chugging, feeling my dick harden with each gulp. I feel like a fucking pig, what has come over me. The shake is dribbling down my beard and onto my shirt, but I can't stop. Once I've had enough protein shakes for a lifetime, I stumble to my room and promptly fall asleep.

Wednesday,

I wake up in a pool of sweat, similar to a couple days ago. My mouth tastes awful and my body feels heavy. I question what happened last night as I roll myself out of bed. I drag myself to the bathroom and freeze in shock at my image in the mirror. Holy shit. I pull up my shirt to see a massive ball belly, covered in a thick layer of hair. I pull my shirt up further and see a pair of soft man tits that now lay on my gut. Every part of my body looks swollen, my arms, my hands, even my face looks puffy.

I let out a loud burp that reeks of protein shake, and suddenly I remember last. I walk to the kitchen and see six empty protein shakes on the table. I chuckle in a surprisingly deep voice before opening the fridge and grabbing a shake. I down it before getting ready to head to the gym. I put on my largest gym shirt and it only reaches halfway around my gut, I try to put on my shorts but I can't get them to cover the top of my ass crack. That's alright, I don't particularly care if anyone sees, it's their fault for looking.

I spend the day at the gym enjoying all the attention from shocked gym goers. They watch in amazement or contempt as this fatass walks around like he owns the gym.

I go to work with a similar energy, though I do have a dress shirt that still barely fits me so at least I'm not half naked going to work. My clothes still leave little to my coworkers imaginations, as I confidently strut my fatass around the office.

I get home and stand in shock as I walk through the door. Is that Dean!? Across the living room stands a morbidly obese man wearing nothing but boots, a baseball cap, and a ripped towel around his waist.

"You did this to me!" The man yells in a gruff southern accent.

"Dean, is that you?" I respond.

"Yea, you dumbass! You gave me some of that powder didn't ya." He turns to face me and reveals the damage the powder did to his body.

"Hey you did it to me first! I was only returning the favour."

"I only put I bit into your shakes, how much did'ya give me!? Look what it's done to me!" He grabs a handful of the fat on his belly, and it jiggles like jello.

"Well I didn't know how much to give you."

"And you're only s'posed to take it when you're workin out, otherwise it only grows fat and not muscle. Beside, why d'ya keep drinking it after you knew?" He asks

"Because I like me this way, it just felt good to get revenge. Why did you even do it in the first place?" I ask in return.

"Because I thought if you got fat you'd stop hooking up with so many guys, and you'd notice me. It was only s'posed to be a bit, but then you started drinkin the shakes like crazy and now look at ya." He responds in a genuine voice. I don't know what to say, so I stand silent. He grabs his phone and approaches me. "This is what I looked like 2 days ago!" He shows me a picture of himself. "I was so happy that I could finally grow a beard. Little did I know why."

"This is what I looked like yesterday." He shows me another photo. "My hair was falling out and my hairline was receding. I woke up looking like I was pregnant, and my pants couldn't fit anymore."

"I was so scared that I ate some of that powder, but I didn't know what to do, so I stayed in my room all day and drank nothing but orange juice. Then I woke up this morning as a bald 350 pound man. That's when I knew you put that powder in my orange juice." He seems frantic.

I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed him and kissed him. "I never realized how hot your accent is until now." I say as I pull away from the kiss, he smiles in return. In the moment, another terribly amazing idea comes to my head. I grab the bag of powder he had left on the table and pour some of the powder into his mouth before snorting some myself. He looks at me in shock for a moment before swallowing it. I smile before dragging his fatass to my tiny king sized bed.

Then next Monday,

I just hit 300 today. I still go to the gym everyday, so that keeps my gut from growing out of control. Though I have had some interesting conversations with my family since. But the shocked faces of my family when they see me and their concerned comments if my weight gain only fuels the fire. Though my dad seems to be the only one who says he likes the new me, says I look manlier. It's funny coming from the next fattest man in the family, only behind me of course.

The scale stopped working on Dean after last Thursday, but he has to be pushing 500. I really gave him an insane dose of that powder, and the more fat he got the less capable he was to workout and thus reduce the fat gained. He just sits around and pigs out all day now, and I wouldn't want him any other way. I usually bring home a few meals from a couple fast food restaurants for his first dinner, and when I feel up to it, I'll add a little bit of powder to his meal.

I'm also enjoying work far more. I told all the men at my work about the powder, and within a few days I was seeing results. Some became as fat as Dean by the end of the week, clearly they neglected the part where it said to workout while consuming the powder. Some look like me, with big arms and an even bigger belly. And some have just become muscle beasts, almost like they spent hours a day at the gym. I also feel more imposing at work, people respect me more, even if half of them are bigger than me now. It even helped me get a raise, which funds all of the fast food trips for Dean and I. One day I hope to be the big boss with a silver bushy beard and hulking gut that spills out of my suit.

[petrssecrethideout]

"Alright everyone, we are back. Now, for this episode I had to leave for work, so for the video I'm currently recording in the hotel I'm staying at, and hopefully Dale has his set up like I told him to so that.... Dale."

"What?"

"What's that?"

"Oh my mug? That's empty I need to put it in the sink."

"That's not-- What's with the oil drum?"

"Oh, so you haven't been following my tiktok? Wooooow."

"Hey, listen I- I deleted Tiktok off my phone years ago I can't go back now. And honestly, all I've heard is that you've been causing trouble."

"Hey that wasn't me. The guy that I was talking about a month ago made a 'response video' to me where he- really all he did was call me a 'beta low-test cuck' ,whatever the fuck that all means, and then he went through my videos and said that I was getting smaller because of my 'masturbation addiction'."

"... I can't believe we're doing another cum episode."

"You better believe it brother! So, in response I've created a personal challenge for myself: Throughout the month of November, I'm going to cum so much, that I can fill a 55-gallon Oil Drum by the end of the month with my cum alone."

"...No fucking way."

"I'm calling it the Cum Drum Challenge."

"The Cum Drum Challenge?"

"Listen I couldn't thin of a good name in time I only had a week to think about it before the challenge started shut up stop laughing."

"Ok ok sorry it- it got me. And you're doing this shit on Tiktok? How are you not banned already?"

"Well, I'm not showing myself filling the drum dude, I'm just like explaining it, and alluding to it. The filling sessions will be on my Onlyfans link in the descriptioooon~"

"Ok sure, whatever, fuck it. People are watching you do this? and liking it? unironically?"

"The first video people thought was just a joke, but by day 4 they were like 'oh this guys serious'. So right now its like 75% people saying I'm crazy and making jokes and like 25% pure awe. Oh but like dude, you know who did comment? Fucking Current Mr. Olympia and my favorite bodybuilder Andrew Nelson! And his comment wasn't ironic either. He was legit like 'I hope this works because it sounds way better than the alternative'. He's on my side!"

"Bet you got quick load after you saw that."

"Fuck off you can't say that now. He knows of me! He might be listening to this now."

"Ok, ok i won't. So, god, this challenge. How are you gonna do this, like 55 gallons isn't a small number dude."

"Yeah, but my buddy mapped it out with my 'average load volume' and I have to cum at least 10 times a day."

"10!?"

"Yeah, I know that's a lot for some guys, so if you wanna just try to fill a milk carton this month and then you can work your way up, no shame in that my friend. This is not for the faint of heart."

"Only 10!? What the fuck dude you're insane!"

"I know, these balls can fucking produce! Actually, side note to listeners we're recording this on November 7th, so I'm a week in. My balls are huge now dude. Like I had some big balls before but these babies are HUGE. And, oh god my beard's gotten all thick too? like I'm giving up on shaving this month it will not be tamed. And the muscles ugh fuck dude I can feel myself growing, like the more i pump this beastly cock It feels like liquid fire in my veins. And ...mmhh gruuh, dudeI get this full body pump every time I CUUM--ugh, fuck yeah man. So huge."

"Have you been jerking off this whole time?"

"...Maybe."

"Dude, again!?"

"I HAVE A QUOTA TO MEET! I'VE ONLY CUM 8 TIMES TODAY!"

"EIGHT!? ITS FUCKING 1PM YOU COULD'VE WAITED."

"WELL SORRY FOR TRYING TO OVERACHIEVE."

[fandomfluffandfuck]

lazy drunk, thinking of chris just sending seb the sluttiest lil tit pics, beggin to get them sucked and fucked and made so sensitive…maybe I’m projecting, but it’s so much fun!!

Listen-

I have had this idea in the back of my mind for literal years at this point that I think of as the "rowdy Evans cumming" pile of ideas. That this idea fits perfectly into. Allow me to explain:

I've never been able to articulate the "rowdy Evans cumming" ideas fully (because they short circuit my brain to the point that what comes out is just feral nonsense), but, basically, it's born from the idea of Chris after he's been back in Boston for a while, reacclamating to his environment, off from work, and allowed to get drunk and party a little and eat horribly greasy food but good food. He is having a good™️ time. Plus, he's incognito in order to not get swamped when he goes out, living his life, so... as a bit of a disguise, Chris is letting his hair get longer, he's letting his beard grow, only trimming it when he has to, never shaving it though, so it's nice and thick. His body is thicker, too. That drinking, hangover food, and workouts for ridding himself of his extra energy add up to him being big. Thick.

I'm picturing--

That Chris.

He's in his home city, and he's feeling loose and relaxed, and I would bet money that when he gets that way, he gets loud, and his accent comes out when he starts getting horny.

And you know... it just so happens that beer tends to bring out the horny side of Chris, plus the drunker he is, the more that accent comes out...

So, when he's in the mood and relaxed and loose, he's reckless with it. Words fall out of his mouth so easily. Naughty jokes and innuendos for anyone nearby and whispered lines of filth into his partner's ear (or one-liners blowing up his partner's cell if they're not together in person). His lips always turned up into a lazy, charming grin that speaks of all those dirty thoughts firing through his head. He's only quiet when other people are within earshot. Otherwise, he's loud. He sounds like he's talking someone up for a fucking sports game, not talking someone through taking his dick. He can't help but spread out, too. He takes up space. Leaning back and letting his legs fall open. His hands wrapped around his beer bottle in a lewd way. He will be unstoppably handsy when his partner is within arms reach. And, of course, his eyes. They get darker and darker, more and more heavily lidded until whoever he sets his eyes on, his partner, might burst into flames from just a look.

He's a fucking smoke show.

So. Yes. This Evans is the fucking Evans that does that. The Evans that sends unsolicited (but extremely welcomed) tit pics to Sebastian when drunk in his home city.

Imagine, if you will, Chris being unable to take it anymore. He's hot to the core, and he needs to blow off steam. He has to. Now. So, he's half out the door, about to leave the party to go home and have a party of one (or two, if he can get Sebastian on the phone 👀). But, inspiration strikes before he's really left...

Chris heads to the bathroom.

Every step closer to privacy leaves him more excited for his plans. He feels reckless. He feels like he should get arrested for public indecency. Thank God, everyone else around him is just as tipsy, at least. No one is paying attention to his flush or the way he's a little too hyped to go to the bathroom. Good.

Good.

Chris slips inside the bathroom. Alone. He instantly recognizes that there's a mirror with bright lights around it. Perfect.

Without waiting for anything, Chris locks the door and loosens his belt. He leaves the red, worn strap rest loose around his hips. His dark blue jeans slide down a little, exposing more of his overheated skin. He doesn't give a shit about that, though. He's too interested in untucking his undershirt--a tight, white tank top--from his pants. He lets his flannel shirt stay open, framing his torso, and pulls his undershirt up more. Higher. He tugs and tugs, roughing himself up, until he can grab the hem of the shirt between his teeth because he needs his hands for other activities...

In the mirror, Chris finds himself so flushed from alcohol (and being on the edge, feeling himself) that his hairy chest is pink, not just his face. He heaves in a breath and sighs it out, letting his hands travel up to cup his exposed pecs. Massaging the thick muscle and soft skin overlaid with fuzz. His fingers zero in on his nipples, pinching and twisting them, letting the sparks of pleasure shoot down to pool in his gut and it feeling fucking good as hell, but really, he's playing with himself for the sake of someone other than himself...

Sebastian.

Chris groans a little around the mouthful of fabric he's got, just from picturing his partner. God, he's pretty. Chris can see his face plain as day in his mind's eye. He can see his face when he crumbles in pleasure, wanting him so bad. And, fuck, yeah, he'd fucking love this--he will love this.

Chris gropes himself juuuust a little more, going a little harder, breathing heavier, wetting the fabric of his tank top in his mouth. Making sure his nipples are a little puffy, nice and red, and a lot hard.

He can't wait until he gets home to execute this idea. He needs to do this now. He has to. So he's gonna.

He's gonna--

Chris grabs his phone.

And with heavily lidded, hungry eyes, he holds his phone up to the mirror, capturing himself in an impressively filthy photograph. His baseball cap shadows his flushed face, but it doesn't obscure the lust in his eyes or the way the pink of his cheeks melts into his full beard. And he might have his teeth sunk into his own shirt, holding it up, but his mouth is still visible, too. It's not overshadowed. His upper lip is red and pushed forward, looking wet and swollen. Thanks to his mouthful, his chest is on full display. The open flannel does nothing to hide his tits. His other hand is resting on the edge of the counter to keep himself steady when the world is fuzzy in tipsy and lustful feelings. He's leaning on his hand. Leaning forward. Sticking his chest out. Showing off his tits. (And more, too, his jeans are still riding low on his hips, showing off his treasure trail, Adonis belt, and the ink he has down there.)

His tits.

God, he sees what Seb means when he says that when he looks like this.

His nipples are swollen and peaked with attention. Eager for more. His body hair does nothing to lessen the curves of his chest. His tattoos do nothing but call attention to the full shape. And his pendant necklace dangling between his tits doesn't help either. Not at all.

All he can think about is that necklace hanging in Sebastian's face as he fucks him, or, shit, about Sebastian painting his necklace in cum. Dirtying him up.

Chris snaps a flurry of photos.

Hopefully not all of them are blurry but they might be because he fucking misses Seb's mouth on him--on his nipples and sucking wet kisses to the underside of his pecs--with such intensity that he's shaking a little. He misses Seb's wet, hard dick between his tits, too. He wants him to fuck them again. Slide right in between them and have Chris to hold them together tight and go to town. Losing himself in it. Painting Chris' chest and collarbones and open mouth. Please.

Chris realizes he's said that out loud, around the chunk of shirt between his teeth, slurring, "plllease."

Chris can't hold back anymore.

He sends every. fucking. photo. he took to Sebastian. One after another. He doesn't care if they're all shitty. He needs Sebastian to see what he does to him.

Please.

Chris drops his phone too hard onto the counter in favor of pushing a hand against his cock through his pants. His phone doesn't matter anymore. Chris buckles forward, curling around the pleasure with a groan. His stomach clenches. He's actively getting his shirt wet with drool. It feels so good. Better than it should when he's all alone. He-

"You better not be throwing up in there!" Someone's laughing voice booms, along with their fist on the door. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Chris has to-

Chris has to take a minute 😮‍💨

He might have to run his head under the tap. Cold water.

"'M not!" He answers finally, yelling back.

He's gonna fucking run his face under the water and he's gonna fucking call an Uber and he's gonna fucking get the fuck home.

On the counter, Chris' phone vibrates loudly, moving on the surface with the intensity.

Sebastian.

Chris has to pick up his phone (which is not cracked, fuck yeah), he has to get out of the fucking bathroom of his buddy's house and he has to get the fuck home.

Now.

"SWEETHEART!" Chris shouts over the chatter and music of the party, one hand over his other ear, trying to block out the noise as he stumbles out of the bathroom half a second after he remembered to pull his shirt down and half do his belt up. Public decency. Right.

Sebastian doesn't even make a word at him in response. He just makes a noise. Groaning and impatient and mind-blown.

Anyway-

Can you tell I'm unhealthily obsessed with Chris' chest?

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Do people remember last year, when Daniel Kitson streamed Tree? It's a two-person play he wrote in 2013, starring himself and Tim Key, and they filmed it in 2015 and then never let anyone see the film until 2023 because that's just what Daniel Kitson's like. They streamed it last year but didn't make it available to download (unless of course you know how to right click on a Vimeo file).

Well, you can now pay to buy or rent it:

A great way to see it again, or see it for the first time if you missed the few streams it had last year (or to take the opportunity to pay money to Daniel Kitson in exchange for all his comedy that you've enjoyed for free, if you happen to have already right clicked on a Vimeo file last year).

He's also announced that he's doing a screening (presumably at a cinema in London) with a live Q and A with him and Tim Key near the end of March. Which sounds like a really interesting thing to hear, so that's a thing to keep an eye on for the sizeable Tim Key side of Tumblr.

And finally, he's announced that he's planning to release it on DVD at the end of the year, complete with special features like commentary and possibly a recording of the cinema Q and A, which is amazing. I'm thinking of all those shows he did between about 2006 and 2012, in which he said he said all the other comedians releasing their own DVDs, and heard everyone tell him that he should be releasing a DVD too, but he didn't want to do it, because he had too much artistic integrity and/or couldn't be bothered.

He had a joke for a while about how it's actually nothing to do with principle and it's just that he couldn't be bothered, but aside from that one joke, he built a hell of a lot of his persona on the idea of being the One Guy Who Won't Do DVDs. 2006-2012 Daniel Kitson spent a lot of time giving us all his reasons why he doesn't care that everyone else is doing it, "everyone else is doing it" is not a good enough reason to release a DVD. And he doesn't want to make one, no matter how many people ask him to.

I fucking love that it turns out all it took to convince that guy to release a DVD was to wait just over a decade, until it's an obsolete format. Then he'll do it. How wildly on brand is it for Daniel Kitson to release a DVD in 2024? Shades of the time he wrote a show in 2006 about how he refuses to shave his beard just because everyone tells him he should, and then another show in 2012 about how he shaved his beard because he didn't want to look like all those other hipsters.

Anyway, I am quite excited about this, I would love to hear that commentary. And the Q and A. And anything else he wants to stick on a DVD. Also, I would love to have a Kitson DVD to add to my obsolete little collection, put it right next to the John Oliver DVD:

If this actually happens, I might have to get on Go Faster Stripe and pay for the Gavin Osborn and Andy Zaltzman DVDs, despite already owning the digital download of both of those, just to throw them in with Conchords and Kitson and Oliver to make a proper Chocolate Milk Gang collection. Though I'd have to see if there's a way to make sure it comes in a proper DVD case, as I don't think they all do.

Anyway, the point is that Tree is a great play - and not even just in the sense that all Kitson's things are great (though they pretty much all are, to varying levels and with maybe one or two exceptions, he had arguably a couple of off nights in 2006 but other than that I think it's been pretty well smooth since the end of Phoenix Nights, especially if you're willing to overlook the penchant for occasional ironic bigotry from before about 2013), as I think it's one of his strongest pieces of writing and performing. Obviously helped by Tim Key being excellent. Highly recommended.

[pepperf]

2022 has been, well, let's say a continuation of the pandemic years for me. I'm a little lacking in emotional resilience these days, and I'm dragging myself over the line with the hopes that next year will be kinder. But it hasn't all been bad. I've had some amazing times with friends and family, I paddled in the sea with my nephew, I finally saw @bethanyactually again after so fucking long, and I've learned a few things. So I thought I'd do the counting my blessings thing, and look back on the good things this year.

2022 was the year that I…

Wrote nearly 200k words. That's over 500 words a day. That is two full-length novels. And I finished and posted about 130k of it on AO3, which—look, I've not been tracking it this way before now so I don't have the stats, but it's DEFINITELY a higher rate of finishing than I've had before. And @wheresmytowel deserves all my thanks for, oh, so much of that. I'm gradually figuring out what works for me in terms of completing stories, and I'm really happy with my progress on that front.

Discovered that armpit hair is cute. I'm serious. Look, I've given up shaving before, but I don't think I've stuck to my guns for this long, well, ever. But this summer, after my last trip to the beach with the family, I decided, to hell with it. And now it's all grown past the spiky stubble stage, and the beard-on-someone-who-can't-really-grow-a-beard stage, and it's kind of luxuriant and…goddamn it, it's fluffy. It is cute. Why is it always seen as a Statement or an insult, something strident and unfeminine and unkempt, when long hair is otherwise seen as an ultra-feminine attribute? I love my fluffy little pits, and legs, and bits. It's possible I'll chicken out when summer comes around again—but until then, I'll get a fond little 'yay' moment, every time I see the kitten fluff under my arms.

Decided that I didn't want the career I've got. This is a difficult one, but it's been a long time coming. A large part of why I am where I am comes from me trying to live up to the (impossible) legacy of my mother, and…okay, yes, I am also a firm believer in the value of public sector work and everyone pitching in to make the country and the world a better place. But I've been doing something along those lines for nearly 20 years now, and I'm kind of burnt out, ngl. And I'm sad to say, I might be done with the NHS. I truly believe in it, and I am loyal through and through, but…it's an increasingly hard place to work, and I don't think I have the mental stamina for it any more. Maybe once I've stepped away, and regrouped for a few years, I will come back. But at the moment, it's a really bad place to be for my mental health, and as a result of that, I'm doing an increasingly poor job of things that I used to find easy. So, I just need to stop, really, for everyone's sake, and do something different.

Started painting again. Slowly and cautiously. I started to think about it in the summer, and took some reference photos of some stuff I might like to paint—then a few months after that I got my easel down from dad's attic and took stock of my paint and brushes—then I dragged out one of my old canvases that never got properly used—and a couple of months ago I ordered some new paint—and applied a base layer to wipe off a painting that was haunting me with bad memories—and then applied another base layer to start building it up into something new…and, yeah, that's where I'm at. But it's a start, and it's more painting than I've done in a very, very long time, and I'm…cautiously excited.

Put some other tentative stakes in the ground for things I might want to do—job stuff, writing stuff, house stuff…all too much to do all at once, and it probably won't all happen next year, because I don't think I could handle that, but at least it feels like I'm not stagnating. Even if I need to remind myself of that, sometimes.

Jesus, I sound fragile. I am fragile, honestly, my confidence is easily knocked, and I'm anxious about a lot of stuff, and I feel like I keep having to gently lead myself along like a 90yo with a broken hip, and I've got things in the new year that I'm dreading (particularly job hunting, god help us—but I'm on a temp contract at the moment, so I don't have a choice). But…I'm getting there.

Here's to 2023.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Ocean Eyes - Part 10

A/N- Another update??? What is going on??! hope you all enjoy this part 💕 Please like/share/reblog.

Within days of being back home from our weekend at Chris's the lockdown was announced and I spent a day packing up some of mine and Masons belongings that we might need while staying with Chris. While i was feeling very nervous about having to spend this time with Chris, Mason was over the moon! He was so excited that we had to go stay with Chris and Dodger.

Chris arrived early with Scott and they loaded our things into Chris's car.

"This is gonna be so much fun!" Scott said happily.

"Are you staying at Chris's too?"

"I am!"

"Oh god that means you're gonna be trying to get me drunk!"

"Well duh!" He laughed shrugging like it should have been a given.

"God help me you two are gonna be trouble" Chris said shaking his head as he helped Mason into his carseat.

"You knew what you were getting yourself into".

While Chris and Scott started bickering i turned and saw Brian coming out of his house, he stood and watched us and then started to walk towards us.

"Oh shit.... quick lets go, Brians coming over!"

"This guy!" Chris said through gritted teeth shaking his head and looking a little pissed off.

"Morning neighbour!" Brian called out, i turned and gave a quick wave.

"You and Mason leaving?"

"Yep, we're gonna ride this out with family" i nodded and felt Chris wrap his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him.

"Come on sweetheart we should go"

"Yeah sure, take care Brian"

"Wait, you look so familiar...." Brian suddenly said looking more closely at Chris "where have i seen you before?"

"I just have one of those faces, i get that a lot" Chris shrugged casually opening my door for me.

"Yeah maybe..... hey Y/N, i was thinking after this lockdown is over maybe you and i can get dinner...."

Was he serious right now??

"Dude really??!....." Chris snapped looking at Brian shaking his head.

"What?"

Chris closed my door and stood towering over Brian as they exchanged words i could no longer hear. Chris was soon strutting round to the driver side of the car while Brian stood there looking pissed. I turned to look at Chris as he got into the car, he was fuming. He started the car and pulled away onto the road, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked him quietly.

"I will be knowing you and Mason are away from that creep"

"What did you say to him?"

"We'll talk about it later, i don't want Mace to hear"

"Okay, but can you please try and calm down....."

"Im Fine"

"Tell your face that, plus you're kinda white knuckling the steering wheel there....."

"Sorry.... sorry. Im fine really...." he loosened his grip and gave me a tight lipped smile.

"Always so protective" Scott chuckled from the back seat earning him a glare in the rear view mirror.

"Scott i swear to god...."

"Come on boys behave, this lockdown hasn't even started yet and you're bickering"

"You sure you don't wanna go stay with Ma....." Chris muttered at Scott making us all laugh.

The first week of lockdown quickly passed, there was no news on when the lockdown would let up so we were all just enjoying our time together.....It was just like old times. I called my mom and Hannah everyday just to check in and have some female conversation but other than that it was just me and the Evan's boys in our little quarantine bubble.

I was in the kitchen making breakfast when Chris walked in sporting a new haircut..... the buzzcut was back!

"Wow...... you've shaved your hair...."

"Yeah" he run his hand over his head blushing a little "fancied a change, its been a long time since i can just cut my hair when i want"

"Right, Marvel owned it before"

"No...."

"You know i'm right" i shrugged "i always did like the buzzcut look though"

"Yeah i remember....." he smirked.

"Morning family!" Scott said loudly walking into the kitchen "What happened to your hair??"

"Fancied a change, plus now i haven't gotta worry about my hair everyday"

"You know that actually sounds kinda smart..... have you seen my bed head??"

"Kinda hard to miss Scotty" i snickered behind my hand looking at his hair that was sticking up left, right and centre.

"Maybe i should do it too"

"And me!" Mason said smiling big at us "i want hair like dads too!"

"Oh my god Chris what have you started..."

"Sorry...."

"No its fine, its only hair. It'll grow back right.... i guess now is as good a time as any for a haircut".

After breakfast Chris took Mason for his hair cut while i showered and dressed for the day. The next time i saw them all three were sporting buzzcuts and i had to admit it was very cute!

"Let me get a photo of you three, this is just too cute to pass up" i smiled grabbing my phone. I snapped a few photo's and forwarded them to Chris and Scott before setting one as my lock screen and slipping my phone back into my pocket.

"Oh my god i love this.... i'm gonna get this blown up and framed on my wall" Chris smiled looking at the photo.

"Let me get one of you three" Scott jumped up and pulled me towards the sofa where Chris and Mason still sat.

"Oh.... we dont have to do that....."

"Come on, it'll be nice to have at least one photo of the three of us" Chris said looking up at me with those damn ocean eyes of his that always made me week.

"Okay, sure" i nodded taking the seat next to Mason.

"Move in a bit closer....." Scott said trying to get us all in frame, we both leaned in closer to Mason and smiled while Scott took the photo.

"Oh i'm good..... this is great you guys" Scott said before both our phones were receiving photo's from Scott. I couldn't help the smile on my face when i saw how lovely the photo had come out.

"Okay you did good, i love this"

"This ones going up too by the way" Chris looked at me with a huge smile.

"You don't have to do that...."

"You kidding me? I want to"

"Fair enough, its your house. I just don't think your girlfriend will appreciate it much".

"Okay..... who wants lunch??" Scott asked loudly interrupting, it had suddenly got a bit awkward at the mention of Lindsey so i just got up quickly and followed Scott into the kitchen.

Once Mason was in bed for the night the alcohol came out. We watched some old movie (that Chris found hilarious) played some card games which somehow led to childish drinking games and before we knew it we were all pretty wasted!

"Right you guys i'm going to bed, i physically can not drink anymore" Scott said getting to his feet and stumbling making Chris and I laugh.

"Dude you're such a lightweight" Chris rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Shut up. Goodnight.... love you both"

"Night Scotty, love you" i smiled up at him from where i was laying on sofa.

"Night bro, love ya".

Chris and I sat in silence for a few minutes, just the sounds on the TV playing in the background.

"You want another beer?" He asked getting up from the armchair he had been occupying all night.

"Sure, i'll have one more before bed".

While Chris went to grab the beers i sat and reached for my phone to make sure i hadn't missed any messages from my mom or Hannah. There was a photo from Hannah that made me laugh just as Chris walked back in with the beers.

"Hannah just sent me this photo..." i said to him turning my phone to show him a photo of Lucas who now had a buzzcut.

"Haha! Oh god i really started something didn't i?" He laughed looking a bit guilty.

"I sent her a photo of Mason's new haircut earlier, she said Lucas wouldn't shut up about wanting the same.... looks like he got his way"

"You gotta admit it looks cute though?"

"Yeah okay i'll give you that. Mason is like your little mini me, even more so than usual"

"He’s just missing the beard"

"I think we've still got some time until that happens" i laughed "you definitely have strong genes Evans.....that boy literally inherited none of my looks"

"No but he's got your attitude and sass"

"Hey!"

"Im kidding.... mostly"

"Ass" i muttered shaking my head at him before taking a mouthful of my beer.

"He might look like me but his personality is all you sweetheart... he's an amazing kid"

"Yeah he is, id be lost without him"

"I kinda love having you both here" Chris added avoiding eye contact with me.

"Its been nice, just remember its not permanent...."

"I know, i know" he nodded quickly "you know when i came in and saw you laughing at your phone, my first thought was that it might've been Derek.... i hate that guy and i don't even know him" he scoffed "how sad is that?"

"Chris....."

"I know, its none of my business who you date or whatever"

"You're right it is none of your business. But just for the record, there's nothing going on with Derek, we were gonna go for dinner before this lockdown stuff but i haven't spoken to him since"

"Oh...."

"Can i ask you something?" I turned to face him, he looked up and nodded finally looking at me.

"Why isn't Lindsey here?"

"What?...."

"Why isn't Lindsey staying with you? I mean you guys are obviously serious if you came looking for that divorce but she isn't here....."

Chris looked away again coughing to clear his throat.... was he nervous??

"Lindsey isn't here because i ended it"

"What?... when?"

"When i found out i had a son. When i saw you again and realised anything i thought i felt for her was a lie"

"Are you fucking with me right now?"

"No. Im just being honest. Y/N, i know i fucked up when i ended things with us.... it was the biggest mistake of my life and i regret it everyday.... but i never stopped loving you. Not for one god damn second...."

I suddenly felt very sober, my heart pounding in my chest.

“You’re just saying this because you’ve had too much to drink...” i muttered shaking my head.

“You’re probably right, doesn’t mean its not true. Ive just been keeping it to myself” Chris suddenly got up and came to sit next me taking hold of my hand “i know my timings sucks but i just needed you to know..... and i just need to know if there is any chance at all that you’d give me another chance.....”

“Chris i really don’t think now is a good time to talk about this.... we’ve both had too much to drink..... if you’re serious about this i think we need to have this conversation sober”

“But you’re willing to have that conversation?”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow” i nodded pulling my hand free and standing up “i’m gonna go to bed.... goodnight”.

I had to put some distance between us before i did something id regret in the morning.

It was safe to say i wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 @denisemarieangelina

@mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax @jennmurawski13 @ford66steal @saiyanprincessswanie @christocrave

@jakiki94 @torntaltos @buchanansebba

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. This is chapter 13. You return to Yavin 4 where Poe has a surprise planned for you.

As your pregnancy advances you couldn't be more uncomfortable.

Warnings, angst, XXX smut, female ejaculation, pregnancy, pregnant sex, not for anyone under 18.

Yavin 4

Poe's big surprise was an elopement to your lush, jungle covered homeland.

Neither one of you wanted a large ceremony or reception, it felt inappropriate to you.

You did, however, want to wear your mother's wedding dress.

The morning of the ceremony feels bittersweet. With tears in your eyes you twirl around in front of a mirror, wearing the stunning white gown that your beautiful mother had worn decades earlier.

It fit you like a glove, no alterations were needed. It looked like it was brand new too.

Deep down, you always knew that this day would come, and that your husband would be Poe Dameron.

It was written in the stars, it was your destiny. He was your soulmate, after all.

You were going to have a few kids and live a comfortable, happy life as husband and wife.

It seemed like a fairytale, "seemed".

The only thing missing were your parents. You had always assumed that they would be there.

You felt like you had taken their existence for granted. You still felt like you could've done more to be there for your terminally ill mother in her final years.

You struggle to push aside these negative thoughts as you admire yourself in the mirror with a hint of a smile on your face, Poe was right, you were starting to show just a teeny bit.

"Baby, I hope you're doing well". You tell your unborn child as you lovingly pat your belly. "Mommy and daddy just want to hold you, we love you so much".

The ceremony was held at the ancient temple that you had both spent your formidable years exploring. It was a familiar place with many memories for you. There were only 3 other people there besides you and Poe.

Your best friend, his father Kes and the justice of the peace that was officiating the ceremony.

Poe looked devastatingly handsome in his dress uniform. His face was shaved smooth (but in less than a week you knew he would have a full beard) and his thick, curly hair was styled neatly.

He looked better than a fairytale prince. You couldn't believe that this stunning man was going to be your husband for the rest of your life.

He took one look at you, in your mother's gown, and tears immediately began to well in his velvety brown eyes.

"You're so beautiful, oh my gods". He whispers into your ear.

After exchanging your vows the two of you run off to your honeymoon.

Your honeymoon is scaled down but still very romantic. A beautiful tent had been set up at the edge of the rainforest.

Maybe it's the euphoria of your wedding day but you actually didn't feel like death that evening.

You've been intimate with Poe many times but that night it feels different. You're preparing to make love to your husband and the father of your child.

The two of you slowly, teasingly remove each other's clothing. As Poe kissed and nibbled on your neck he whispered into your ear,

"Lay on your back".

With a smile on your face you follow his command and relax on your back.

He knew that your breasts were still extremely tender so he wanted to do something to make you feel better.

Poe's rough hands on the silky skin of your tender, engorged breasts felt divine. He began to gently massage them in a circular motion, leaning down to suck on your sensitive, darkened nipples lovingly.

With a content sigh you spread your legs wide, revealing your silken folds glistening from arousal.

It didn't take long for his head to find it's way to your sweet spot. Before Poe started to eat you out he stopped and planted a series of soft, fluttering kisses on your lower belly, right where your baby is growing.

The sensation of his full, sensual lips tickled, the gesture itself was so soft and beautiful.

The skin on his face felt unbelievably soft and smooth.

Poe was giving your baby their very first kisses from daddy.

You, on the other hand, receive very different kisses.

He absolutely devours your pussy, licking, sucking, tongue fucking you until you writhe and scream in absolute orgasmic bliss.

You experience a gushing, squirting orgasm all over his handsome face.

Poe closes his eyes and licks his lips, enjoying the taste of your warm, salty fluids.

"That is literally the hottest fucking thing ever". He tells you with a slight laugh as he positions himself on top of you and penetrates your soaking wet hole with one swift movement of his hips.

Poe's cock feels especially large and hard that night as he's making love to you.

Your erect clit brushes against the thick, dark hair surrounding his the top of his shaft, making you curse under your breath.

His balls were soaked in your juices too. You already had no problem getting wet but being pregnant intensified everything.

Your pussy is gripped onto his perfect cock as you experience an out of this world, g-spot orgasm.

Poe cums deep inside of you, you can feel his cock tense up and release.

The rest of your wedding night is spent relaxing and talking about the future.

Mainly the arrival of your baby, both of you are convinced that your little one will be a boy.

"I'm terrified". You tell him with a slight laugh. "Not about giving birth or anything but what life will be like once he's here".

"I'm just thinking about the day when I can start giving him flying lessons". Poe tells you with a slight smile as he leans over and kisses your belly.

"Ugh, only you would say something like that". You tease, laughing and rolling your eyes a little.

"I can't believe you got pregnant the first time we had sex in 20 years". He continues, smiling. "I've never gotten anyone pregnant before, well, to my knowledge I haven't".

"It's been a roller-coaster ride so far and I'm just slightly over the 8 week mark". You explain, smiling softly. "I hope things smooth out a little".

Six months later

You are now nearly 8 months pregnant with your first child.

Just as you had both suspected you were having a little boy. He was strong, healthy and extremely active in the womb.

Poe loved to talk to your belly and kiss it. He also loved to feel every kick and movement.

You just knew that he was going to be gorgeous like his father.

You've experienced the gamut of pregnancy symptoms and couldn't wait for it to all be over with.

Weight gain (50 lbs) a sore back, swollen feet, mood swings, sore, leaking breasts, you've experienced it all.

Poe was on paid paternal leave but he was on standby in case him and the black squadron were needed in combat.

He's been caring for you, cooking, giving you massages and even helping you bathe.

All while he dealt with the burns on his body, which had, at long last, healed.

Your sex drive has been through the roof too. Despite the discomfort you're experiencing in late term pregnancy you've never wanted Poe sexually more in your entire life.

He's more than happy to indulge you too. Mainly he's been pleasuring you orally because intercourse was just too awkward.

Poe was indeed the perfect husband and was going to be an even better father. He was caring, considerate and totally devoted to you and his child.

It's late, and you are two days past your due date. Both of you have been discussing ways to jump start labor, sex being your last option.

Side by side with shallow penetration was your only option, his penis was too long to penetrate you fully because of your sensitive cervix.

Poe had to insert himself carefully, inch by inch, it felt like absolute torture.

You're able to take 6 inches, but you can tell as he's thrusting that he's frustrated that he can't be fully inside of you.

"Fuck it, go deep". You beg him, as his thick cock stretches your sensitive, wet walls.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt the baby". Poe replied as he kissed you on the neck.

"If anything it might send the kid a message to get out". You tell him with a laugh.

Poe indulges your whim and carefully slides fully inside of you, immediately his large cock hits your cervix but instead of pain you feel intense pleasure.

"Oh gods that feels incredible!" You moan, closing your eyes and biting your lip. "Don't stop, go harder".

He thrusts hard into you, as you cum hard your wet pussy grips his cock and you squirt all over him.

"Wow". Poe gasps as he's drenched in your fluids. "That will never not be the hottest thing ever".

Your own climax triggers his, he's filled you with a huge load, so much so that you can feel it run out of you.

Afterwards, as Poe cuddles you nude, you laugh a little and say,

"This kid needs to get the message and get out already, I'm not kidding anymore".

"He'll be out when he's ready". Poe replies back quickly as he kisses you.

Poe was joking but you really weren't. You couldn't wait for the pregnancy to go ahead and be over with..

End of chapter 13

[acommonloon]

TL;DR

What a delicious memorable night!

Except, I returned to the scene of a crime and got a last call beer and I'm a little disturbed I can't remember what it was. Let me think.

Oh that's right. I remember now.

____________________________________________________________

I remember hours before, going in The Raven, circling the bar before walking back out, not a single beer worth the time to drink it.

I remember darting across two busy lanes of traffic to see what The Ainsley was all about. It was the second venue to inhabit my much loved and missed Blue Grass Brewing Company, where I bought countless beers in past years. I never went in The Sullivan, it first followed BBC but, The Ainsley laudes itself as an upscale sports bar.

I nearly didn't go in. The building outside blinded me with unadorned white walls and...they took all the fucking windows out! Still, I had just braved rush hour on Frankfort Ave in 90deg heat so I pushed on. I was back outside in less than 5 seconds.

The inside was...where old white people go to die and maybe a few patrons at the bar had succumbed. The place reeked like a basement couch leaking generations of old man farts and the barely moving white heads scattered along the bar looked like moths fluttering their last against a hot window sill. I ran back across Frankfort.

Briefly I considered bailing. I could be home in under an hour where I've got beer worth drinking for days, weeks even. I'm no quitter though. I was parked in front of Street Grub and Hops, a bizarrely named venue I'd been in a few times since The Mellow Mushroom failed to survive in Louisville's over crowded pizza market.

I remembered they had 30+ taps behind their large U-shaped bar and I could see the whole side of the building was open to the sidewalk. Inside a band was setting up to play so I was assured in this place I wouldn't need mothballs to dispel the odour of human demise.

If my sense of failing mortality seemed unaccountably morbid on a bright Friday afternoon, in my defense, a new place next to Street Grub caught my eye. NSD Bar it said on the sign. What's that? Never Say Die Bar <shakes head>

I was met at the bar by a lively young man with a lush black beard and handlebar mustache. Thirsty? he asked. You've no idea.

He gesture towards the wall of taps and said let me know if you see something that piques your interest.

I chuckled and said that's a tall order. I spend too much time beer hunting.

He laughed then and said to which spelling are you referring?

My brain stuttered then I got the clever play on words he'd heard in my "tall order" reply, accidental for sure.

Which did you mean I countered, then I spelled peak or pique? The second one he smiled as he walked off.

<sigh> it was 5:10 already and I didn't know it but I'd just experienced the high point of my visit to Street Grub. In spite of their large list, only one beer piqued my interest and Austin, of the peaky facial hair, apologized when he discovered it was no longer on. My second choice, in spite of being a Stone Brewing offering, had no more character than the Miller Lite branded glass they brought it in. Worst of all, the fried pickles sucked. I should have remembered that because I'd had them there before.

I got back in my car with no particular plan. Then remembered a friend had mentioned the bar I had visited on Saturday had a Speakeasy room in the basement. <shrug>The Speakeasy theme has never interested me but such places often do high quality drinks and my recent visit to Gerties upstairs bore that out. They made me a Penicillin or two actually and they were terrific. I could do with another or two.

As soon as I walked in, the bartender greeted me with, "You're back!" I grinned back at him and said, "I heard you've a room in the basement." We do and he pointed around the bar to a door and said tell the bartender downstairs his Penicillin isn't as good as mine.

Recently, the guy that runs a nearby wine bar told me I was memorable. He said, "You make an impression." I wasn't sure he was complimenting me but I do appreciate it when the bartender remembers what drinks I like. I headed downstairs into the dark. It was really dark and I was worried I might trip as I shuffled toward the dimly lit bar. The bartender shouted a hearty welcome and then he said knowingly, "I bet you want a Penicillin!" WTF

I replied, "What, the guy upstairs rang down? No he shook his head. I was at a loss until he took pity on me. He said, "I was upstairs the other day when you asked for a classic Penicillin. I make up all the drinks here so I noticed. Oh right, I said but actually, you look very familiar. Where have you worked before. When he said Red Herring it sounded right but I couldn't remember where that was. As soon as he told me it was next to the Silver Dollar the memories flooded back and we fondly reminisced about the drinks and food there.

Soon I had a classic Penicillin in front of me and we began to talk drinks. We included the only other guy at the bar in our conversation. He was rail thing, wore a scarf on his head, and had a robust but not too pornish mustache. I suspected he was staff there at Gerties. He was clearly interested but not so experienced. For the next two hours I enjoyed the back and forth and drinks.

Chad is a professional bartender who loves his job. He loves making drinks and he loves talking to people. While we chatted, more than twenty people, in pairs and sometimes larger groups came downstairs, got drinks and eventually left. At one point I was sure Matt Gaetz sat down at a two top. I did a double-take to be sure the woman with him wasn't Marjorie Taylor Greene in a wig. It was hard for me not to stare but I kept stealing glances. Eventually I concluded this guy was what Gaetz would look like if he wasn't befouled by evil. A very good looking guy!

When he left, I asked if I was the only one who thought that? No one had noticed but, by that time, Terrence, a large black man who'd come down with two white friends was standing next to me. He'd been ordering drinks when the bar conversation turned to German food and he joined our conversation eagerly. After delivering drinks to his friends, he returned to talk. When I suggested the guy who'd just left looked like the American traitor Matt Gaetz, he said no way! He went on to say Gaetz was a POS and if it had been him there might have been trouble. Lol, now that would have been memorable.

Terrence left wishing Chad and myself a good day, remembering both our names. It turned out the guy with the scarf on his head was a sous chef at nearby Bar Vetti. OMG, I'd meaning to go there but I worried D wouldn't like it. I asked him if they would make her a pepperoni pizza. He said they had one but it had calabrian and peppadew peppers on it. Yeah, can you take those off. Um yeah?

I said I'd just go check it out myself for dinner after I finished the Negroni riff Chad had excitedly made up on the spot using a special dry vermouth and something that wasn't Campari. He referred to it as a white Negroni. It was delicious!

Bar Vetti was only about a hundred feet down the sidewalk from Gerties. I enjoyed the early evening as I walked, it was comfortably warm with a gentle breeze and for the first time in a long time, Nulu felt normal. People were sitting outside the Taj and the Mayan Cafe, the evening was alive with conversation, color, and movement. When I looked in the windows of the new swanky Marriott Hotel it was the same inside and there might not be room for me at the bar.

I walked past the unattended hostess stand into a storm of blaring conversation. I stopped in front of an empty seat but there was a drink there so I turned around to the other side. I asked a man in a suit if the empty seat next to him was taken. It's yours he answered without looking away from his companion. I sat and picked up the wine list.

On my left were three young men, obviously of southwest Asian heritage. Within seconds I understood they were native English speakers and they were having a good time. The youngest one was next to me and he seemed barely old enough to shave. He was rather louder than the others and seemed to be mildly complaining about something. The bartender came over to them and appeared to pick up a conversation she must have started before I got there. It was really more of a lecture and she was telling them that she couldn't spend all of her time in front of them as she and another bartender had a full bar.

I felt myself tense a little, wondering if there was going to be an altercation. I didn't look at the young men but watched the bartender closely. While her words were stern, her body language seemed relaxed. I heard the man furthest away from me say, "That's fair." The bartender didn't acknowledge his words. She poured me a water and I asked for a glass of wine. Then I turned to the men.

"Are you guys from here or visiting?" I could see them tense up the young guy on guard most of all. I went on as if I hadn't noticed and said, I overheard you say this was your kind of place a minute ago. This is my first visit here and it's a bit fancy for me. They relaxed. I felt sure they were expecting to be challenged and I might look just like the kind of old white asshole who would do that.

We're from California the young guy said but we live here and work at Rabbit Hole. Do you know it?

Of course I said, it's something the city can really be proud of. I've been over there in the bar many times and the facility is gorgeous. Cameron seemed near to burst with happiness. He said, "We're just about to have a drink, will you join us? I said, sure what are we drinking. Rabbit Hole he said, "We got to represent!"

From that moment on, I had a dinner companion who was overjoyed to talk to someone who knows about the Kentucky whiskey business. When I said, the marketing for Rabbit Hole is genius, Cameron threw his hand up and pointed at the man farthest from me. Justin is our marketing!

Justin said well, to be honest I've only been there for 3 years and Cameron replied, "He's being too modest. We've only been open for 4 years. I asked Cameron, are you a distiller? I was when I first started he said. My uncle is the founder and I've got a business degree so now I work the financials. Wow, I replied.

He said, you have to come over and ask for us! We'll give you an insider tour. I waived that off a bit and said, I'll be sure to come back over but your beautiful column still is out where I can see it when I go to the bar on the roof. Sometimes I just stand at the end of the hall by the elevators and admire it. He said, "OMG we never get to talk to anyone like you!"

We had a drink of their Heigold and I didn't have to pretend it was good. I said, "I'd drank their sourced whiskey before but this was the first time I'd had something they'd distilled themselves other than their gin. It tasted more mature than I'd expected and I said I'd likely pick up a bottle now that I'd had it. I will.

Soon, Cameron's girlfriend came in and sat next to Justin. Cameron pretended to be annoyed and she seemed maybe a little suspicious of me. Soon she was sitting next to Cameron and was telling me all his faults. It was bar buddies in the best form. I asked for the whiskey list and suggested I buy us all a drink. I was disappointed by the selection TBH. The owner is a well-known whiskey aficionado and his BBQ joint just a block away has a much bigger selection of whiskey. I noticed an Old Forester Single Barrel Rye on the list and suggested it.

I specified it be served in rocks glasses instead of glencairns and we clinked our glasses when everyone had their drink. It was candy in a glass and far too sweet to be anything I'd recognize as rye whiskey but my bar buddies claimed to like it so no harm done.

When their food came, I settled my check and Cameron again expressed his pleasure at our talk. He renewed his invite to come to the distillery and I walked back out into the night.

When I got back to my car I looked up and saw Akasha Brewing was still open with people sitting at tables outside. The street at this end was quiet and peaceful. I remembered my last visit to Akasha hadn't gone well at all. The server there had refused to give me a taste of a beer. I was shocked. I'd already bought and paid for one beer when I asked for a taste. I said I was trying to decide which of two others I'd take home in a growler.

She said it was their policy not to give out tastes because people sometimes asked for lots of tastes and didn't buy a beer. WTF I had already bought a beer! I was so annoyed I'd decided not to drink at Akasha until they changed their stupid policy. If they were going to treat me like their worst customer, I wasn't going to spend my money there. Still, one more beer would be nice. Then I saw what I wanted.

That's it. A strong Belgian golden ale is what I had there!

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.01: Stranger in a Strange Land

The Road So Far: Well, this montage pales in comparison to the one at the beginning of 13.23. Conspicuously absent: Sam being killed by vampires and resurrected by Lucifer. Also, it's set to an AC/DC song, and I dislike AC/DC, so let's just skip this, shall we?

(But Caranfindel! We thought you LOVED all that crappy old 80s music!)

You kids behave or I'll turn this car around.

Anyway. We open with Sam, driving the Impala alone through the night. He feels the same way I do about AC/DC, and turns off the radio (Sidebar: Have I mentioned before that I love when the soundtrack becomes part of the actual scene? Because I do.) Let's just take a good look at Sam here, looking magnificently angry and beardy. Because of course he's been too busy/depressed/other reasons to shave. And honestly, I'm not normally into beards. I love some heavy scruff, but a heavy beard doesn't generally do things for me. But this is just, rawr. I don't want him to keep it. Mama needs to see those dimples. But for right now? Let's enjoy it.

Mmmmm yes.

We cut to a (presumably) Muslim man being awakened by a call to prayers. He puts out his rug, begins to pray, and is suddenly shocked to see The Flying Squirrel sitting in his living room. Still wearing the hat, unfortunately. Michael informs Jamil that he's read about him, and quotes what is presumably the Koran (and Jensen speaking what is presumably Arabic isn't quite as hot as Jared speaking French, but is still very, very enjoyable). I wasn't aware that Gabriel and Michael were mentioned in the Koran. (Is this not actually the Koran? I'm going to feel like an idiot if it's not.)

Yes, you are the better one, but only because of your pretty, pretty vessel.

Michael is there to ask Jamil the question he's been asking a variety of people ("holy men, leaders, killers") for weeks. "What do you want?" (Sidebar: speaking of holy men, I still wonder where Michael and Lucifer found all the ingredients for the spell to open the rift in AU Land. How did Lucifer recognize that the blood came from a Most Holy Man and wasn't just average blood?)

Jamil says he wants peace and love, and Michael snidely points out that if he'd really wanted peace, he wouldn't have left Syria and abandoned his friends to die, and that's cold, man. That's really cold. He also tells him that if he cared about love, he wouldn't have gone into that broom closet with Darlene and his wife wouldn't have left him, and I'm with you on that one, Michael. Avoid going into broom closets with chicks named Darlene. Michael then throws Jamil about the room and tells him he's lost, and not worth saving. And for his part, Michael wants what he's always wanted: a better world. Oooh, like ours, maybe? Duh duh duuuuuhhhh!

New title card! I don't really like it. The blue flames are cool but the wings are too cartoony.

Bunker. The place is bustling with activity. A poor Sam substitute with long hair and a plaid shirt is laying out different types of bullets for Mary. Maggie is tending to someone who was injured by a rawhead. Someone shows up with food. Sam comes downstairs, apparently having just returned from Atlanta, and gets a hug. Aw. I guess the silver lining to Dean being gone is that Sam gets to be Number One Son for once.

His lead in Atlanta didn't pan out, but Mary reminds him that Ketch is working on a lead in London (and just like at the end of s13, there is no evdience at all that Mary remembers or cares what Ketch did to her in s12, so... okay then) and Cas is doing something in Detroit (Sidebar: How does Sam feel about Detroit? Can he hear Castiel's in Detroit without hearing Lucifer tell him I think it's gonna happen in Detroit?) and then she thoughtfully expositions for us that it's been three weeks since Dean... and she trails off without saying whatever she was going to say. I know it's awkward to say since he agreed to be an archangel vessel in an attempt to save your life but you could just say since Dean's been gone.

She assures Sam that "something will break; it has to" (and I'm thinking yes, and it will be Sam) and he says "yeah, you keep saying that." Oh, Sam. You used to be the one assuring Dean that you'd be able to fix/find/kill/save whatever, and now you're on the other side of that conversation.

He yawns, and she tries to get him to get some rest. Poor Sam never had a mother and now he's being mothered within an inch of his life. Then Not!Sam calls him Chief \o/ and gives him some soup and some bad news about vampires on I-90. Sam gives some instructions, because he's Leader Sam now, and then he asks Maggie if she can hack into the traffic cams and she says "Um. No."

I don't know if this is just supposed to be amusing, or if it's a sign that Sam is cracking under the pressure and has forgotten that this is Maggie, not Charlie. Or if it's just a demonstration of how useless Maggie is, although she's performing first aid so it's not like all she can do is sneak out to meet the cute guy at the Gas N Sip.

Sam hands his food off to Mary, because you can't hack and eat at the same time, everyone knows that, and sits down at the laptop, pointedly ignoring some mothering from Mary. "I'm good, I am," he says.

YES YOU ARE, MY PRECIOUS LITTLE LUMBERJACK, YOU ARE SO, SO GOOD.

He asks Mary about Jack, which is our segue to Jack sparring with AU Bobby. Jack's learning how much life sucks with no angelic powers. While Sam has ignored his grooming routine, Jack has changed his hair. It's shorter, without so much swoop in the front. It's okay.

Cut to a barbeque joint in what must be Detroit. We see a pair of shoes and too-long pants walking in, and then a guy wearing a pair of Agent Smith sunglasses says "Castiel, darling" and greets Cas, who is sitting at a conspicuous table right in the middle of the dining room. The fireplace behind him looks very much like the one we saw in President Lucifer's hotel room. Coincidence? (Spoiler alert: No, I don't think it's a coincidence that there’s a Fireplace from Hell in this restaurant.)

Cas is surprised Agent Smith chose this place to meet, and Agent Smith is surprised that Cas wanted to meet at all, considering that he's (dramatically removes the sunglasses) a demon. (gasp!) Cas asks if any demons know where Dean is, and Agent Smith says he's surprised that Cas lost him, considering that they're "joined at the... you know, everything." Oh, wait. Is Andrew Dabb a Destiel shipper? Because it's getting awfully shippy in here. I feel like I should complain about him pandering to the baser desires of a certain contingency of fans, but on the other hand, he's give me Bearded Angsty Sam, so let's just agree not to discuss our various base desires, shall we?

Carrying on. Agent Smith asks the eternal question, not "what do you want" but "what's in it for me," and Cas threatens to kill him if he doesn't spill. Oddly enough, even though Cas could tell if someone was evil or if they were lying in s13, he didn't realize that everyone else in this restaurant is a demon. Your powers are oddly specific, Cas. There's a fight, in which angels and demons use fists, because that's just what you do now, and Cas is predictably beaten to a pulp. (Also of note: one of the beer signs in the restaurant is for Fast Jack's Ale.)

Cut to a church. Sister Jo? We're back to that, then? Okay. Anael walks out, counting a wad of money, and meets Michael in a dark alley. He calls her Jo because... because that's how he was introduced to her? No. Because that's her angel name? No. There is no reason for any angel to call her Jo. What the fuck ever. She recognizes that he's not Dean, and then I don't know if he reveals his wings, or if she just sees him in Angel!Vision (Angel Radio is so old fashioned), but we get a special effect and she realizes who he is.

Do I like this or is it cheesy? 🤔

She even knows he’s not from our world. But I guess the AU angels recognized that Lucifer wasn’t from their world. Just not so quickly.

Oh God.

People keep calling me that.

Hee! (Although I don't think angels would use "God" like that but whatever.) She asks why Dean would have let Michael possess him, and Michael answers "love," and YES. I am here for Michael recognizing that Dean loves Sam (and maybe Jack but we know this was about Sam) and would have only done this to save him. Michael asks her his question, what do you want, and she spouts some designer labels. (Sidebar: What is the deal with her, anyway? Why does she need money?) He doesn't believe she's telling the truth, and I hope he’s right, because Show has given me no reason to think an angel would be interested in material things, even if they're covered with big tacky double-C logos.

Michael says he knows all about her, because "the other angel" knew all about her. Lucifer? Is he talking about Lucifer? (And one of the things Lucifer knew was that her name was not Jo, but whatever!) He knows that what she really wants is love, a home, a family. "It's very, very human of you." Hmmm. Interesting that Anael kind of liked that "almost human" feeling she got when Lucifer was sucking down her grace. Michael knows there are very few angels left, and thought he might be able to help, but if they're all as lost and fallen as she is, maybe they're not worth saving. Careful, Anael. The last person who heard this speech was Jamil, and it did not end well for him.

Bunker. Jack is sitting on his bed when Sam comes in. He's heard from Bobby that Jack had a terrible no good awful day (although I thought Jack was actually okay at the end of his scene with Bobby?), and he's so kind and encouraging about how hard it must be for him to be without his powers. "I have faith in you, Jack," he says. "And I believe in you." Which is basically the same thing but daaaaaawwwww! Mary interrupts to say "Sam, um, he's awake." Sam sighs and looks distressed and I know what you were all thinking. Who is awake and why does this distress Sam so much? He tells Jack "We'll talk later, all right?" but Jack stays in Quiet Angst mode and doesn't respond as Sam sadly creeps out of his room.

In the hall, Sam and Mary are talking about him.

Did he say anything?

I didn't talk to him. I can barely look at him.

Sam is clearly fucked the hell UP over him, and Mary peels off as Sam hesitantly opens the door. The room is dark, and a figure in a white shirt is sitting on the bed. Sam sighs nervously again and turns on the light and walks into the room. The man on the bed is facing away from us, but we can see his bed is in the middle of a devil's trap. Sam comes closer, radiating fear the way he did when he was locked in the jail cell with Jack in 13.01, and the figure turns around.

Hey, Sam.

Hey. Nick.

OH GOD, GUYS, NICK IS ALIVE.

We get a flashback of Lucifer convincing Nick to be his vessel, but we don't get Lucifer promising revenge against the people who murdered his wife and baby. I think anyone who hasn't been watching long would have benefited from knowing why Nick said yes. But maybe we'll get back to that later.

Sam and Nick discuss his nightmares, and I can't help wondering how much he remembers, if he knows what his body did to Sam, if he knows how many of Sam's nightmares feature his face. Sam cleans his angel blade wound, and they speculate on why the archangel blade didn't kill him. I assume they're setting us up to accept that the archangel blade will kill Michael and not Dean. Oh, those crazy archangel blades and their bizarre rules.

(Sidebar: Why is Sam the one taking care of Nick? Because no one else will do it? Because Sam won't make anyone else do it? Discuss.)

(I'm not crying, you're crying.)

Nick is a little whiny and "poor me, I almost ended the world." Okay, that's not fair, I can see why he'd be upset. But do not whine to Sam Winchester about it. Sam is so tentative and kind. When Nick says it must be weird to look at him, Sam surprises me by saying "yeah," instead of brushing off his own trauma. He asks Nick if he remembers anything, and Nick says it's still "bits and pieces" and nothing about Dean. He does remember Michael saying he "wanted to do it right this time." Duh duh duuuuhhhhhh!

We see Sam in the hall, shutting the door with a long shaky sigh and rubbing at his face, and STOP IT I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS I AM ONLY HUMAN.

This is the sound of my heart breaking.

I have so many feelings about this scene. First, so much love for Jared, because he shows Sam's terror of this guy SO WELL. And, like 13.01, that conflict between his fear and his need to be nice to this person, to care for him.

And I have conflicted feelings about Nick being alive and well. First, it's bizarre, because (1) why would the archangel blade not kill the vessel along with the angel, because that was definitely human blood, and (b) why is he sane? Why would Lucifer have taken better care of his vessel than Raphael did? (And does it mean Gabriel's vessel is alive over in AU Land?)

And does it mean Lucifer is coming back? Because I DO NOT WANT. Although I have one tiny speck of hopeful joy, because if this isn't really Nick, if this is, in fact, Lucifer? Or if Lucifer's grace will grow inside him (because we know a bit of grace remains inside the vessel) and he becomes Lucifer? That means Sam could still kill him. (Oh, please, baby Jesus.)

But I also have a lot of anger. Because this should have been a shocking reveal, and it wasn't, because the SHOW ITSELF SPOILED IT. I don't know if this happened to everybody, but in my time zone, we had a commercial for the movie "Halloween" that was apparently a tie-in with the show, and it showed Sam asking Nick if he remembered Michael. AND THEY SHOWED IT BEFORE THE REVEAL. WHAT THE FUCK, SHOW??? I assume it was a mistake, and judging from my Tumblr feed, it didn't happen in every time zone. So to those of you who actually got to be surprised, congratulations. I'm sure it was awesome.

Carrying on.

Sam's phone rings. It's Cas's phone, but it's not Cas talking. It's Agent Smith. The next shot is Sam loading up his weapons bag, confidently agreeing with Mary that yes, it is a trap, but of course he's going anyway. He's bringing Mary and Bobby, which makes sense, and Maggie, which doesn't. I guess all the good hunters are off looking for vampires on I-90. Jack wants to come too, which Bobby finds ridiculous, but Sam explains that Jack needs this. OH SAM.

Back at the restaurant, Agent Smith gets a coffee refill and asks Cas if he's sure he doesn't want anything hot and black. Which reminds me... what happened to Michael's previous vessel? Shouldn't he be around somewhere? Agent Smith says he's trying to be a good host, "like mother would have wanted," which makes me think we're going to find out something interesting about his mother and/or a female boss, perhaps an awesome Queen of Hell. (Spoiler alert: false alarm.)

He expositions that he needs something from Sam, because someone recently asked him what he wanted (Michael! It was Michael!) and he didn't know. So he thought about it, and he realized he wants everything. Hmmm. Would Michael have accepted that as an answer? Apparently so, because Agent Smith still walks the earth.

Impala. Sam's driving, with Mary riding shotgun, and I guess everyone else is in Bobby's truck. Mary tells Sam again that everything is going to be fine, and he shocks me by saying "Stop saying that, please." He's tired of her relentless everything will be okay and says "Dean's gone, and we have no idea where he is, or if he's even still alive, you know? Michael could have burned him out, or worse..."

Mary says she knows that, but she has to think about the good, "because if I don't, I will drown in the bad," which reminds me of Sam once saying there was so much evil that he thought he could drown in it. And I like this scene a lot. I like Sam breaking, telling Mary what he thinks instead of burying his feelings. I like the fact that Sam knows so much better than Mary ever could what can happen when you're in an archangels hands. I like that Sam knows how Raphael's vessel ended up, alive but gone. I like that Sam's voice gets shaky when he talks about what could be happening to Dean. I like this all, very much.

In the other car, Bobby tells Jack that they've got his back. Jack looks sadly out the window. I don't know why. I don't understand what's going on here. Is he concerned that he's so useless, someone has to have his back? Is he having second thoughts about coming along? Is he regretting his haircut? I just don't know.

The gang arrives at the restaurant and Sam gives Mary the demon-killing knife. "They'll search me," he says, because he's so damn smart. Then he tells the others "you know what to do," which suggests some kind of plan, and heads for the restaurant. Once inside, he is patted down as predicted, and Agent Smith fangirls all over him. "You are a damn legend, Sam. An icon! The shoulders, the hair! You are my Beyonce!" Same, Agent Smith. Same.

Sam ignores him to ask Cas if he's okay. Cas says he's more embarrassed than hurt, and, well, he should be, because this is pretty embarrassing. Agent Smith introduces himself as Kipling, Kip for short, but I'm sorry, it's too late for that. He's stuck with Agent Smith as far as I'm concerned. Sam refuses to shake his hand. Don't feel bad, Agent Smith, he refused to shake Mick Davies' hand too.

Smith points out that Sam didn't come alone, as he was supposed to, and his minions drag Jack and Maggie into the room. "Found them outside," a minion says; "they didn't even put up a fight." I assume this is part of the plan, that Jack and Maggie are a diversion or something. Agent Smith says he needs more from Sam now. He wants to make a deal.

Turns out Hell is in "a bit of a pickle." Crowley is dead and Asmodeus is "Kentucky-fried" (see, it's funny, because he looked like Colonel Sanders) and Sam interrupts him to say "I don't care" but Agent Smith thinks he does. Or he will. He wants to be the new King, and he wants Sam to work with him. "You see, I want the Crowley deal. I give you information, a spot of help every now and again, and in turn, you choose to turn a blind eye to the crossroads deals, the demon-on-demon violence, etc." Well, good for you, Crowley. Your mother thought the Winchesters were your weak spot, but Agent Smith here realizes it was a mutually beneficial relationship. Sam tells him they didn't actually have that deal with Crowley, and also that he's no Crowley, and aw. I miss the little limey bastard.

Agent Smith doesn't appreciate this, and growls that in his day he rode with Genghis Khan. He pokes Sam's chest and says "If I had my way I would eat your heart," and I feel you, Agent Smith. If I had my way, I'd also be removing that unfortunate orange jacket and that shirt and nibbling at whatever I found underneath. It's a sad day for both of us.

Agent Smith tells Sam that he's not afraid of him, but his minions are, and he should take the deal before he "stops trying to be Crowley," which I guess means stops not killing Sam's friends. So, is Agent Smith going to be the new Big Bad? The new King of Hell? I mean, he's not the most boring demon we've ever seen, but he's not really grabbing me, either. On the other hand, a King who's more of a Sam fan than a Dean fan could be fun. (Though, let us never forget that no matter how much Crowley craved a bromance with Dean, he was still Not Moose in Crowley's phone.)

Sam acts like he's considering the offer and then calmly says "no," and then Mary and Bobby burst in and there's a weirdly long, weirdly slow-motion fight. Really, it goes on way too long. There's no reason for an extended slow-motion fight when there's no suspense about who's going to come out of it alive. The only person who might conceivably die here is Maggie, and even she survives. Jack defends a fallen Bobby, Mary tells Maggie how to use a knife (seriously?), Sam gets some nice hair-in-the-face action, but really, we could have skipped 90% of this melee. And I'm still confused about why sometimes demons can pin people against walls, and sometimes they can't. Or just choose not to.

Eventually Sam kills Agent Smith and then shouts enough! and oh, you know I like that, don't you. Everyone stops fighting, because Sam Fucking Winchester said so. "There will be no new King of Hell," he announces. "Not today, not ever. Anybody wants the job, he can come through me. Understood? So, what's it gonna be?" Apparently it is understood, because the demons immediately smoke out. The humans (and Cas) look at Sam, shocked, and he pants (hubba hubba) and says "that's what I thought."

Well. What do we think about this? I mean, on the one hand, it's awesome. It's Sam Fucking Winchester taking charge. On the other hand, the only possible way it makes sense is if the demons have a reason to fear him. And that would have to be because they see him as Boy!King Sam, not as Sam Winchester the hunter, right? There's no reason for them to fear him that much as a human hunter. But there's no way he's getting his powers back, so why is Show teasing us like this?

Carrying on. Sam is back in the bunker, wearing a dark shirt with rolled up sleeves showing his big veiny arms (YAAASSSSS), holding a beer bottle against his head. He's on the phone, telling someone to keep looking. Cas comes in and Sam tells him the call was from Ketch, who's in London looking for the pulse generator they used to remove Lucifer from President Rooney. Hmmm, I'd forgotten about that thing. So, is Ketch searching in the BMoL headquarters? Is he welcome there? Or are they dead/disbanded because of what happened over here? So many questions. No answers.

Mmmmmm... ❤️

Cas asks if he's okay, and since he's on an honesty streak, Sam admits he's been better. But also that he's been worse. Oh, Sam. Cas apologizes for going to the demons, and Sam says he'd have done it himself if he'd thought of it. "If it meant finding Dean, I'd work with... I'd do anything."

Have you considered watching The Weather Channel? They’ve been tracking Michael for days.

In the kitchen, Mary and Bobby drink beer and make cute googly eyes at each other. He calls her "Sunshine." They're precious.

In his room, Jack stares angrily in the mirror and tells Cas he's fine, which is obviously a lie.

All I did was get punched in the face.

To be fair, we all got punched in the face.

Hee! But Jack misses his powers, and the ability to actually do something. Cas tells him his grace should regenerate with time, which answers THAT big question. Jack complains about being useless without his grace, and this is a good opportunity for Cas to point out that no one else in the bunker has magic nephilim powers and yet they're not useless, even Maggie, so why does he think he can't do anything? But he doesn't. He just tells him he has a family, which isn't really what Jack's complaint is right now. Jack still looks unhappy, so I guess this is setting us up for some future conflict. Yay.

Sam goes into his room, empties his pockets (he still has the money clip from Tall Tales!!!), and gets a phone call from an unknown number. It's Jo. "We have a problem,” she says. I don’t know about you, but I think she’s working for Michael!

And finally, in a dank damp basement somewhere, Michael has finally found someone who answered his question correctly and knows exactly what they want. "You don't pretend to want to help people, or save the world. Your want is pure, and simple, and clean. And that's why you are worth saving. That's why we are going to work so well together. Because you? You just want to eat." Oh, because you're a vampire. Well. That's not good.

So! I know the first ep of the season needs to set up the story arcs, so it's not necessarily going to be great. It has a lot of work to do. And I think this one did okay with that. We've got some interesting irons in the fire - Angry Chief Sam and his Beard of Despair, who has (probably temporarily) stopped telling people what they want to hear, and is telling his truth instead. The Nick situation. Whatever conflict is going to brew with Jack while his grace regenerates. Michael's hunt for the perfect thoughtless killing machine. Sam as default King of Hell. There are things brewing that I don't like. Jack turning his self-loathing against Sam or Cas. The potential return of Lucifer. There are things that make no sense. An angel who wants designer bags. Michael's hat. Hopefully they will all go away. And there were things I adored, which is basically ALL THINGS SAM. Chief Sam, patient-but-angry Sam, lord-of-all-demons Sam, terrified-but-caring Sam, hair-in-his-face Sam, BEARDY SAM, ALL THE SAM, ALL THE TIME.

But I miss Dean. What do you think about Jensen as Michael? I think he's doing a pretty good job. I don't think he plays Not!Dean as well as Jared plays Not!Sam, but I do think he's doing well. It makes me wish we'd had more of Demon!Dean.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

[calledchaos]

b-but being masculine isn't a trait inherent to being male you know... this kinda gives off the vibe that every masculine butch is potentially trans? kinda tricky..... like, there's no way of telling how it "feels" to be a man or a woman. you said that you didn't feel FEMININE, which is also not an exclusive female trait. women can be masculine too. it must be awful being made to feel uncomfortable in your own body by being naturally rough and masculine in a social environment that looks down at women who have these traits. same goes for gay men who are extremely feminine. masculine, feminine, soft, rough, that's all just gender talk. you felt masculine, but not all men you see are masculine. so how can you tell this apart from a "feeling"? i've been on TRA circles since forever and im just starting to get so, so confused, and i don't mean to be disrespectful, but it's hard to stand by something when you're not sure of what you're even standing for anymore. im still on because of people close to me, even when i started questioning some things, but things i was told just don't make sense at the end of the day. too many contradictions. my brain can't keep up. any of it, and you bet this is gonna have backlash if any of my friends (which 2 are trans) found out that im going off the rails. wat th fuck is going oooon

ok sorry im rambling now i just needed to vent im sry :(

I never said I realized I'm trans because I was always masculine, I just pointed out it as an example of one of the reasons why I started questioning myself. It was just a very VERY summarized way to answer that other question. When I tell you I cannot detail it to you what I felt I mean it. Realizing I was trans was the most complex thing I've ever experienced and I believe it must be pretty subjective for each individual, because you're totally right: being feminine or masculine doesn't mean you're trans. And you don't need to want to fit into a cisgender default to be trans. Many trans women don't feel the need to shave off their beard or have a boob job; just like many trans man don't have top surgery or take hormones. Not to mention non binary people who do whatever and are still nb. People just want to be who they are and what's comfortable for me might not be for another trans dude and that's okay, as long as everybody's happy.

Idk why you're questioning it so much, honestly. I think I'll repeat myself, but that's pretty much where I'm at: I don't care about labels or coming up with reasons why people are they way they are. I think we should just do whatever makes us feel good and not worry so much about what it means.

If you're a butch lesbian (or not even a lesbian, just butch) masculine as fuck and you see yourself as a woman... Good. Your physical appearance doesn't dictates who you are, how you feel does.

Also, careful when you say "it must be awful being made to feel uncomfortable in your own body", because it sounds like you believe being trans revolves around wanting to please other people's idea of what we should be. My transition has absolutely nothing to do with anybody else, I couldn't care less if society thinks I should be tall, strong and whatever other stereotype they put on cis men. Everything I've ever changed in my body was for myself. The way you put it, you invalidate the trans experience. And if you're not trans and don't understand it, it's okay, just don't assume we're any kinda way for any kinda reason.

[saintheartwing]

Undertale: Frost, Pt.3

It was a beautiful, beautiful day in the Otani region of Kyoto, Japan, and the sun shone bright and lovely, its gentle rays beaming down on a fine, ornate-looking Buddhist temple that sat at the front of a natural pathway that led deep into lush woods. A stone path had been laid out, leading up a large pair of stairs to the temple and, sitting inside in the main hall as various tapestries hung upon the walls showing off proud accomplishments of Buddha and his beloved were two men. One was a rather pot-bellied, fat, short-bearded fellow who had a shaved head and a large black Buddhist robe, who was in the middle of serving his guest a fine bit of tea. He had deep brown eyes, much like his beardless, slightly big-nosed companion, another fellow Japanese who had hair tied in a bun as he bowed back in appreciation of the fine Green tea being served.

"Thank you so kindly for this. It's been too long, Honen-Bo Genku."

"Yoshi, do tell me. How goes the writing at the Imperial Palace? What have you heard?"

"Everyone's rather excited. We've got dragons coming in to see Shogun Yoriie himself!" Yoshi said as he sipped his tea. "We're all very, very pleased. There's been squabbling for years since the 100 year peace ended for Northern Japan. If they agree to help, then maybe we can unite all of the warring factions of Japan and bring everyone under a singular, glorious rule to head into the future with our heads held high!"

Genku just shrugged, and sipped his tea. "As long as whomever is in charge allows me to teach my students of the Buddha and acts justly and fairly for the people, I've no personal preference. I only hope any leader is one who would follow a path that Buddha would be proud of."

"I have to say, Buddhism is doing very splendidly lately, there's so many people founding schools. But enough about me, Genku! Tell me, how goes the current crop of students?" Yoshi inquired as he looked over at a large sign that showed off the various names of students currently at Genku's school, not far from the door out to the backyard, and also not far from a beautiful tapestry showing a Japanese man aiming a spear down at a monster. This tapestry was unique though, for though he was trying to drive a spear through a "youkai", a shapeshifting monster that could pass as human, alongside the man wasn't just a platoon of other warriors fighting youkai…but a positively beautiful-looking Japanese dragon that was resplendent above the fighter's heads, roaring proudly, lightning flashing from his body, several bolts striking the Youkai.

The shapeshifting species was not well liked by the Japanese at all. In fact, many Human cultures really, REALLY did not like monsters who could magically pretend to be human. They wanted a clear difference, rightly or wrongly. Genku felt it was because people didn't want to look into a face that was like their own…only for it to become something far, far different. Nobody liked seeing their reflection made foul. It made him pause to think about this.

But as Yoshi brought up his students he was snapped from thinking about the youkai, and about how beautiful humans found species like the dragons and mer-people to be, broken out of thinking about the adorable "temmie" race as the mention of his current students interrupted his thought process, and he sighed.

"They're fine." He said rather quickly.

"Just…fine? Have you any problems with them, Genku?"

"No, not these students, Yoshi, not these students."

"I'm sure you must have some fascinating stories to tell about them!"

"Not THIS bunch." Genku muttered, Yoshi noticing a visible bitterness faintly echoing in his tone, neither of the two aware that a rather portly, sort of fat-necked, pot-bellied, ponytailed young Japanese man was listening in just outside, the rather crumbled remains of his most recently graded test on the advanced tenets of Buddhism in one hand as he listened closely.

"Is something wrong with them? You sound rather disappointed, Genku. Please, tell me." Yoshi insisted, sipping some more green tea as Genku took in a long, deep breath.

"The thing is…they're all fine. Just…fine. And that's it! None of them are very good. None of them are exceptional, or amazing. They do their work in a satisfactory way. They're deferential and well-behaved. They do not fight, they do not steal, and they do not get rowdy. They're neither hot, nor cold. They're neither poor, nor incredible. They're simply…average. That's it! Average. Nothing I would call special, Yoshi, and in truth, I honestly believe I would rather have a fool or an idiot or a bully to tutor than a bland bunch like I have. I can WORK with the fool, the idiot, the bully, I can improve them and make them better, and that becomes a story, they can become something they and I can be proud of, but despite my best efforts, the current students I've got are simply just…fine. And that's all they ever seem to be. Just…fine."

With that, he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "I never thought I would say this, but they're the first students I have that make me feel like I failed."

The ponytailed student sighed quietly, looking back over his barely passing grade in his other hand, then crumbled the test into his pocket and made his way deep, deep into the forest. The soft twittering of birds filled the air as he kept his hands in his robes pockets, head hung low, rather big nose sniffling a bit as he shook his head back and forth, finally arriving at his "thinking stump", a stump of a tree a good distance into the woods that he plopped down on, head resting in his hands as a little bunny rabbit hopped its way over to him, the soft tweeting of birds getting louder as several sat down on nearby tree branches.

The ponytailed Buddhist student sighed as he closed his eyes to think like he liked to do, far, far away from everyone else. But whenever he sat down to think, what came to mind was…

"This is awful." Seiichi murmured, the 12 year old Japanese boy deeply sighing. "A week of staying up late to study and this is it. Thisis the best I can do." He grumbled as he took out his test results again and then ripped them up, looking over the pieces in his palm. "Sometimes I wish I was a fox or a rabbit or a bird or a snake or somethin'. THEY don't gotta take no tests."

And as he mentioned every single animal, the pieces of the ripped up test formed into imitations of the creatures, levitated up by blue magic, as the young mage sighed and then finally stuffed the pieces into his pocket as the bunny looked up at him and he knelt down, rubbing over its head as gently as possible.

"You're looking extra fluffy today, Swift Foot." He told the bunny with a small smile. He reached into his robes, pulling out some small little bread pieces he saved, setting them down for the rabbit to nibble on. "Seeing you always makes me feel a bit sunnier inside. Glad I can count on your fluffy little face-"

It was then that he heard a rustling in the woods, and he whipped his head in its direction as he saw a distinctly long-haired, pale-skinned being who had pointed ears and slender fingers walking forth, their androgynous form looking him over, resting one hand on a tree, dark eyes narrowed as the other pulled out a samurai sword from a scabbard on its back.

"One of HIS students. Damn Buddhist bastards." The youkai growled out in a distinctly manly, gruff voice. "I'm so fucking sick of your type walking around like you OWN these forests, these were our lands long before you were a twinkle in your parent's eyes!"

"Sir, I don't want no trouble." Seiichi insisted, holding his hands up. "Really!"

"Shut! UP." The youkai growled. "I've heard enough excuses from you humans! Your stupid squabbling amongst yourselves is ruining everything beautiful about the land I loved!"

Seiichi took off running, barreling through the forest as quickly as he could, but he was not exactly in good shape. He was rather short, after all, and being tubby, he was quickly losing his breath as he kept racing through the woods, deeper and deeper into its depths, feebly wheezing out cries of "HELP! HEEEELP" every ten seconds. "SOMEBODY!" The youkai, meanwhile, just kept a steady pace, his sword gleaming in the filters of light that flitted down through the forest canopy above.

And then…then it happened. Poor Seiichi finally ran out of breath, collapsing down, flopping onto the forest floor, moaning, barely able to stand up as the youkai stood over him, sword held high. "With this, I can finally begin to avenge-" The youkai said.

Then, a loud, immense, glaring roar. He looked up, gaping in shock, a BEAR tumbling towards him. The youkai gasped in surprise, holding the sword up as the bear raced at him from the west, but then-

SCRAAATCH!

"AAHH!"

A crow had sailed on down, various other birds now assembling in the trees, calling out, loudly screeching and yelling in their birdsong as the youkai clawed at his scratched-over face…and the bear slammed into him, knocking him clean against a tree. KA-KROOOOOOM! He pile-drived through it, then another, then another, flopping to the ground, barely conscious as the bear "harrumphed"…and turned to Seiichi.

"You alright, Seiichi?"

"I'm…okay." Seiichi rose up, and dusted himself off, looking over at the barely-conscious youkai. "You didn't hit him too hard, did you?" He asked quietly. "I hope he isn't seriously hurt."

"He did attempt to kill you, Seiichi." The crow in the tree said, as the small group of doves cooed in agreement.

"Oh yes, oh, yes! Bad, BAD youkai! Bad! BAD!" They all said at once, as a pair of tanuki raccoons made their way through the trees, led by the bunny that Seiichi had been petting, a snake slithering around a nearby tree to peer down at the murmuring, groaning youkai.

"Oh, what a rotten thing to do. You've always been so kind to us, Seiichi."

"You totally changed our minds about how we thought humans could be."

Indeed he had. Seiichi might not have been good at the advanced tenets of Buddhism, a passable mage at best when it came to the basic blue magic that all human mages could do, but he did have one incredibly potent and powerfully useful talent. He, like the future namesake, was a "Dolittle". He could talk to the animals! Even animals like insects or fish or the like he could speak to, though, in general, they didn't have much to say.

Things had started out primitively. He'd been in class, trying to figure out the "Noble Eightfold Path" on a test. He always kept messing up the precepts they represented, the habits of Buddhism to adhere to. "Okay…Right understanding. I know this one. It's…um…it's…ah! Bad acts and thoughts got consequences and so do GOOD acts and thoughts. Um…what's next, uh…um…"

Then a fly had landed down on his hand, and he'd groaned. "Ugh, go away." He grumbled at the fly, snapping at it under his breath in a way he'd never, ever done so before. The stress of the test was making his brain all fried and frizzy, it felt like he was buzzing all over. And then…

The fly buzzed on back. "Don't squish!"

The other students had turned around to see Seiichi yelp, and flop backwards, chair and all, falling to the floor as Genku sighed deeply and pinched the space between his eyes, Seiichi gaping as the fly swerved up, up into the air, soaring off. "Don't squish! Don't squish!" It said as it landed back down on Seiichi's nose, and tasted over it. Maybe, perhaps, Seiichi needed to take a bath. But still, realizing he could comprehend animal language had opened up many doors! He'd moved on to other insects, like a spider in the corner, spinning its web. Then several ants. Then the koi fish in the pond in the school's backyard, and then, small animals like, say, the bunnies and the tanucki. Then birds, then the occasional snake, and finally, the larger animals.

For once in his life, Seiichi finally felt like he'd done something really, really well. That he'd done something truly special.

It was a nice feeling. A kind of soft, gentle warmth that crept up your body and felt like a big hug from the inside out as much as from the outside, one that couldn't help but bring a smile to your face, and brought about one single, soft moment of absolute peace.

Nirvana.

"You ssssssure you don't want me finishing him?" The snake asked, glancing back at Seiichi as he vigorously shook his head, jolted out of thinking about the past, out of Nirvana.

"N-No. The most basic teachings of the Buddha say killing's really wrong!" Seiichi insisted as the other animals looked about at each other.

"We're very glad your "Buddhist" teachings ask that you show such love and kindness to all of us, and being able to actually speak to us, to hear us, we're truly grateful for that as well. You're probably the nicest human we've ever known." The bear spoke up with a sigh. "But it might be easier on you to just let us finish him. Then he can't come after you."

"I have to stick to the Buddhist ideals. Maybe you guys can't get it because you ain't human but…I mean…" Seiichi nervously put his ponytail slightly in his mouth, chewing on it a bit in the way he did when he was nervous. He always had such a hard time putting big concepts out there, trying to explain how they worked. It made his brain twist and turn up into knots. Finally, he thought he had a good way to describe what he was trying to get across.

"You animals have…instincts, right? Like, they're just all ingrained in you, you just KNOW them, and they're a part of you that you can't get rid of, and they're really important. You wouldn't be "you" without them. For us humans, our ideals, sticking to them? We wouldn't be "us" without them. If somebody doesn't have any ideals they can hold onto and hold up, then…then they're just…they're not human! They're not even animals, cuz an animal has to stick to an instinct, somebody who won't stick to anything, won't hold onto anything and just does whatever, then…they're scum!" Seiichi finished. "Does that make sense?"

The animals glanced about at each other. They sort of got where he was coming from, even if they didn't fully comprehend. "We kind of get it, yessss." The snake said, sighing. "Very well, dear one. We will spare this youkai. For now." He intoned, the youkai groaning as the bunny pushed the sword the youkai had over to Seiichi.

"You should take his weapon, though."

"Okay. I'll give it to Master Genku." Seiichi reasoned. "We can give it perhaps to somebody as a gift. Maybe when the dragons come in they might pass by and we can offer it to them, I hear they love collecting Japanese swords and weapons!" He remarked with a rather dumb grin before an idea hit him. "Say, you guys ain't ever told me what the dragons are like. I've only heard rumors and whispers about them and what they look like, are they really so incredible?"

"They're…they're okay." The crow intoned, as the many doves in the trees nodded, each one speaking individually.

"Not bad, not bad."

"Charming enough."

"Bit conceited sometimes."

"Kind of haughty, but personable."

"Very nice fashion sense."

"But they do eat people."

"Can't forget that."

Seiichi gulped. "What?"

"Nobody's told you?" The animals all glanced about at each other in a rather surprised, nervous way. "Dragonsss can be very nice, very friendly, and most of them love how your culture adores and worshipssss them. But their diet consists of a lot of meat." The snake intoned. "We serpents are cousinssss to their ilk, and as such, we know. We KNOW they're not above eating people, or monstersssss. Whole and alive. There'sss even been some cases when entire towns vanished into the maw of a dragon."

Seiichi turned pale. He quivered like a mouse caught in the talons of an owl as the other animals glanced at each other, then at him. "…on second thought, I kinda hope they don't come here." He finally squeaked out.

…

…

…

…"So tell me how these "puca" look."

"I'll do you one better, Hadiya. I'll show you." Erimentha grinned, the Greek woman's dark skin soft to the touch as she and Hadiya sat together on a stone bench at Constantinople, not far from the Hagia Sophia. She took out the quill pen she had in one ear, and took out a bottle of ink from one of her many belt pouches, humming as she licked the end, then dipped it in the ink, and began to draw on a large scroll of parchment she'd gotten out from her bag. Her hair fell down in thick locks from her back, a nice fringe over her forehead, with her eyes a lovely shade of Trojan blue to match the clothing she now wore, her little toes wiggling in their sandals as she furiously drew.

It was astounding how quickly Eri could draw, but then again…Erimentha was a mage. With the use of magic, anything was possible, and her unique Purple magic allowed her to bring vivid images to life as she smiled in delight, holding up the parchment to Hadiya. "See?"

"They really DO look like goats!" Hadiya remarked, her head utterly shaved, wearing a very lovely matching yellow outfit much like Erimentha, almost exactly the same in design, with a black belt and sandals just like Eri. Several nasty scars were running down her back as she blinked her unusual green eyes, the young African woman gazing over the parchment as the picture of the "puca" trotted about, spinning around, the faintly humanoid goat-like monster smiling up at her. "It's so cute! How lovely."

"Uhoh. More of them." Eri's eyes went wide, she could see some people coming out of the Hagia Sophia and quickly focused, the moving picture on the parchment turning normal as Hadiya turned and frowned darkly and furiously at the men emerging from the Hagia Sophia with several barely-clothed women, all of them singing loudly and proudly. Hadiya's eyes narrowed coldly as she looked at those whores and the even more disgusting people paying them to be in that church.

Hagia Sophia had been beautiful. A majestic, enormous dome in the middle with somewhat smaller domes all about, towers piercing high into the sky, made of majestic brick and mortar. Mosiacs had filled the place, beautiful paintings of adorable cherubs had been put inside, Christ upon the dome, a burial cloth of Christ would get shown on Fridays, they'd even put in a new depiction of the Virgin Mary holding Jesus, between apostles Peter and Paul, and upon the enormous side arches within were painted the words of the prophets and teachers of the church, and all, ALL in beautiful, splendid colors that made one weep to behold it.

And the smell. Beautiful incense, soft and lilting through the air. It had been that smell that had attracted Hadiya to the place after sneaking away from the boat she'd stowed away on. She had left her home behind, wanting to see the world, to hear of the beauty that laid beyond, and there, there in that church, she had let the incense and the candles wash over her. Though she didn't worship the God that lived there, she had found a "god" of her own as she'd seen Erimentha, who was sitting before the Virgin Mary, head bowed, quietly praying.

They'd started to talking, and Hadiya had told her about how the incense had reminded her of the smells of her home, of how the scent wafted along the long grass back on the plains of Nigeria, especially just after the rains, and Erimentha had listened, nodding gently as they sat in pews. Their hands had touched. Had held. Had laid in each other's for a long…long time.

Long even after they'd left the church.

Hagia Sophia had been special to Hadiya. She'd grown to see it as a living, breathing thing, a special place, full of life, and a sense of divine majesty and beauty, and that smell…that sweet smell.

Now it smelled like wine and piss and fire and ash. The Fourth Crusade had swept into it and those disgusting crusaders had done foulthings inside. They had smashed up the silver screens showing icons of the Eastern churches, ripped apart the icons and holy books, and put…put WHORES on the patriarchal throne within to sing coarse songs as they drunk themselves into a stupor with wine, using the Church's holy vessels. And you didn't want to know what they did to the priest's offices there.

"I want to kill them all." Hadiya said, her voice cold and furious and hateful. She was mad at the whores but not as mad as she was at the crusaders. Those women couldn't truly help it. This was just a job for them. The crusaders had CHOSEN to do this.

"Tell you what." Eri sighed gently as she patted over Hadiya's shoulder. "I've got an idea. Why don't I treat you to a nice bottle of wine and we can relax and have a drink and forget all about them for one day?" She asked. "And I'll draw your picture. The lewd version, for kicks, and then you can try and draw mine."

"Oh, I'm terrible at that. I don't know." Hadiya sighed with a pout as Eri chuckled a bit.

"I'll do it bliiiiindfoldeeeed?" She added. "And that's not the only thing tonight I'll do blindfolded."

Hadiya felt a smile come to her face. "Okay. You know what? I'd like that." She said, giving Eri a quick little kiss on the lips, the softness of the touch sending a faint spark through them as they rose up, Hadiya now putting her hand on Eri's shoulder as they made their way off for the market, the bustling noises of people at the stalls filling the air.

Unfortunately that day was TAX day, and that meant lots of grumbling and growling as Eri stopped, seeing several people giving hatefulglares at the short-nosed, smooth-haired, slightly moustachioed tax collector who was shaking his bag, several guards on both sides of his slender frame as he looked at the stall owner before him, who was grumbling darkly, the long-and-white-haired man giving the tax collector a distasteful look, much like he was a fly who'd landed on his meal. "Now, now. It's tax day! Open up your heart…and your money bags."

The white haired man's eyes were obscured behind a cloudy pair of glasses as he grumbled, getting out his money and handing some coins over. His hands were rather large, indeed, he was quite muscular for a silk and linen seller. Eri felt a sense of unease as she looked at him. There was just something about Solomon that she didn't like. He had been perfectly friendly and nice to them all the time, and had sold them some fine linen and a very nice dress to Hadiya too just last week, he was quite the skilled tailor but…still…

"Here." He intoned, his somewhat dark skin reddening on his face, flustered and irritated as he handed the money over, fifteen golden coins. An entire day's worth of profit. He grunted as the tax collector shook his bag again.

"AAAAAAND can't forget your permit pay? Our city so graaaaciously let you set up shop here."

"Sure…sure." Solomon handed out another three gold coins with a sigh as the tax collector grinned. People grumbled and muttered more furiously behind the tax collector's back, but then turned eerily silent as he approached another stall, a baker, with-

Eri almost shrieked. This person was new! She'd not been to the market with Hadiya in several days and this newcomer was a surprise. An unpleasant one. Her body shuddered, Hadiya clutching her hand tight to calm her as she saw the multiple eyes, the purplish skin and hair tied into long, flowing ponytails, bound up in various spots like "bunches". She had sharp fangs in her maw, and four arms, and was quite well-built. She wore a big golden necklace that fell over her flat chest, and her black eyes glistened darkly as she folded her arms over her chest as the tax collector approached her.

"Tax day, Ms. Uttu. Let's begin with the basics, and then your permit payment!" The tax collector sang out.

"I already paid it when I applied for one just four days ago." Uttu intoned, her voice silken and smooth but with a distinct edge as Eri shuddered in disgust. She hated, hated, haaaaaaated spiders. All those arms and legs and…and too many eyes and to have an Arachne here? A spider-monster? Still, at least she looked rather spider-LIKE and not as human as she'd heard the Tsuchigumo of Japan could be, a youkai tribe terrifying and devious and, evidently, cannibalistic. She didn't want to imagine what it would be like to meet one of THOSE in a dark alley, thinking she was just passing by a normal person, until that person's many legs were suddenly wrapping around her and-

"Now, now, the rules are the rules." The tax collector said with a dirty little smirk. "And if you talk back again, I'll ask you to give me a bit more as payment for such blatant disregard for civil-"

Uttu promptly shoved an entire money bag right in his chest and he took it as she scowled. "Is…that…sufficient." She muttered.

"See how much better things are for your type when you just cooperate? Everybody wins! See you next month!" The tax collector said, heading out of the market, humming merrily, Uttu turning to look at Solomon, asking a single, simple question.

"Did you have to pay twice for the same permit?" She inquired of him, giving a glance to the other market men and women present as they glanced at each other's stalls, then back at her, and Solomon sighed.

"…no." He muttered, the other sellers in the market shaking their heads too, Uttu sighing.

"And how much did you pay for a permit when you applied?"

"Three gold."

"…I had to pay six." She grumbled. But of course the one seller there that wasn't a human had to pay extra. Of course they did.

For a brief moment, Eri flinched, as a new, odd feeling rose in her. It took a while before she realized, as Hadiya and her approached the wine seller in the marketplace, that what she felt was…pity. She was feeling sorry for the Arachne, who quietly rubbed over her rather tubby, pregnant frame, eyes closed, head bowed as she sighed sadly.

"What would you like?"

"Give us a good year, whatever type." Hadiya insisted. "Eri and I have a lot to forget tonight."

"Just once I wish the tax collector would forget tax day." Eri mused aloud, as the other sellers chuckled a bit at this. "Or that he'd forget to breathe. That'd be nice."

"Tax maaaaaaan!" Solomon proclaimed, sticking out his thick tongue as the others booed and hissed in agreement. "I can't stand him either. He's almost as bad as those drunken louts who keep using the Hagia Sophia as a toilet."

"Unfortunately, those "louts" are paying me quite a bit to…perform…there." Uttu mumbled as the others in the market shuddered and cringed and looked disgusted. Though WHY, exactly, Eri and Hadiya weren't sure. Perhaps some felt bad for her too…and others perhaps for the crusaders who'd have to see this being naked. "I need the money very badly. Even…their blood money."

Eri felt her pity intensify. She turned to Hadiya. "Um…say, Hadiya, maybe tonight…we can make one little stop before we head home for our special time together?" She asked quietly.

"I think I know exactly what you mean." Hadiya offered warmly. "…I don't know if it's a good idea, but…I think it's very noble idea, and I like that." She confessed.

The quilt of night descended down upon the city, soft torches on the walls lighting the path to Hagia Sophia as Eri and Hadiya made their way towards the back entrance of the Hagia Sophia, Uttu now dressed very scantily, Eri trying not to look and trying harder not to look disgusted as they walked up to her. They could hear loud roaring and laughing and singing inside the church and Hadiya cleared her throat as Solomon walked out from the back to approach Uttu as well.

"Okay, I've got the, um…the "stage" they wanted set up, all the curtains are ready and-oh. What are you two ladies here for?"

"Listen, we've got money. Ignore what the crusaders want, we can pay you." Eri said quickly as Hadiya nodded, getting out a money bag.

"You're clearly in need, it's the right thing to do." Hadiya reasoned.

"You are kind, humans." Uttu sighed. "But I can't do that. I did make a vow to perform, and I never break a vow."

Hadiya nodded sagely. "I can understand that. All the same, take some of our money anyway. We'll wait for your performance to finish, and you can have a little extra for the sake of your children."

"This city stomps down on me every day." Uttu intoned. "It was a struggle just to get set up here. I'm grateful that, for once, somebody is lifting the boot off my neck. Especially humans like you." She nodded and gave a soft little smile. "I'd smile wider for you humans, but, well…your ilk are frightened by my teeth."

"Yeah, I'm kind of…not a fan of spiders." Eri said, nervously looking away, wiping her brow a bit free of sweat. "Don't take it personally, I've had some really, really bad experiences on a very long boat ride with them." She mumbled out, slightly kicking at the ground as Uttu chuckled, and headed back inside, Eri and Hadiya waiting as Solomon smiled and nodded at them, heading off.

The two women wouldn't have to wait long. Come just an hour later, after about half an hour of hooting and hollering, it died down, and Uttu was heading back outside. Hadiya handed over a small bag of money, and the Arachne took it with two of her four arms, bowing her head before heading off, like Eri and Hadiya did, for home.

The girls, however, wouldn't know that the crusaders inside…EVERYONE inside that building…wouldn't ever desecrate the church again.

Uttu had seen to that. They'd find that out come the next morning…

[letters-to-a-listener]

02. Feb. | 22:46 - 23:32

Whaddup y'all

Quick summary of my current life: I left the group surrounding the LA Drama stuff (look at my last post if confused), I'm an adult now and got a lot of money for my birthday, I'll start working in a few days and will be traveling this year for sure. So far so good. I'm back in a group with LA, it's not healthy for me, I'll leave soon. And I'm crushing hard. Which is why I'm writing again.

To be honest, I was very scared, I am very scared to write this because I feel like it makes it more real. I kinda hope it isn't.

This time I'm going to say names (one name) because his name is Sebastian and it seems like I have a thing for Sebastians. And Jakobs. The biggest crushes I've had were on Jakobs and Sebastians. But not the main point. Back to this specific Sebastian.

Really important note in-between: I do shooting for sport, no moving or even alive targets, in closed areas with high safety standards. Please don't think I'm some fun weaving idiot

I've met him the first time a while ago. Probably over a year, maybe two. He was and still is very attractive, could be a little bit taller but that's alright. I met him at the shooting range in our village, my father takes me there quite often, and he let us use his guns every now and then. Ive never talked to him on a personal level, it was and still is always about the sport.

Now in January I turned 18, meaning I am now legally allowed to use bigger guns and so my father took me to another range to try some. Sebastian (S from now on, its shorter and easier to write) kind of organised it, he got us the guns, everything. I don't mean to brag but I'm good at shooting. Maybe better than most, at least good enough to impress him and his friends who lend us the guns. And all of them were either at the army, or at the police, so they all know how to shoot. It was great to see all of them and especially him that impressed.

This weekend my father had a competition in our home club, I trained parallel to them to get used to the situation, having the goal in mind, to participate in a competition one day as well. Later S came with a friend of his, it wasn't planned though. I thought my father had brought both of his guns, so I could train afterwards with the bigger one, but he didn't and that's where the real "problem" starts.

Sebastian offered me to use his stuff. Of course I agreed, I want to get better, so I have to train. The next half hour or so hr showed me different guns, helped me with my posture and aim, was very, very close to me. Looking back at it I'm freaking out a bit.

Ammunition for large caliber guns is expensive. He just gifted it to me. Just said it was a present. I died internally. Extremely insecure about how to react I thanked him quite a few times, then left. I was almost outside, I saw his friend side-hug him, the weird way guys sometimes do it, this proud, exited but also teasing way. And I THINK I heard him (the friend) say something like dream woman. I THINK. And I have to GET IT OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!!!!

In general it wouldn't be a problem. I'm an adult, he's an adult, in theory no problem. But I dont know how old he is. When I first met him, he was clean shaved, he looked very young, now he has a light beard and looks much older. Not old old, but old enough to maybe be too old for an 18-yeqr-old. But he also may be quite young!

And I have this awful memory of someone wearing a marriage ring but I don't remember clearly who exactly it was. I don't think I've seen him wear one, but I'm not sure. It might have been him but he just took the ring off, when doing something, for what you need precise finger movements? Or it wasn't him and he's young and everything's fine???

Of course I've tried finding him online to see, if I can find his age or his relationship status, but he seems to not exist... No Facebook, no Instagram, no Google results, nothing. Maybe it's good I didn't find him, maybe is bad. I still don't know anything detailed about him, hope something shatters the hopes I am trying to push far far away. And please, make it happen soon...

Feeling better, having that written down. Felt cute relieving, might delete later <3

Hope you have an even better time than me!

Yours sincerely

Ace. (That's me)

p.s.: lonely shout-out to my only follower, hope I didn't lose you with this one-sided crush drama, thanks for maybe caring a bit !

May your sleep be deep and refreshing, your day be light and exciting! Drink enough, get some sun onto your skin and into your heart 🌻💛🌻💛🌻

[myvelouri]

I got overwhelmed

I may be too sensitive

I was video chatting the gf

It was fine and fun. It was great

But I'll just write the things that actually made me feel overwhelmed negatively that made me ask to be alone. Cause I'm a little close to crying?

So the first thing I guess was when she was talking about a movie and saying she thought the guy was hot and he had a beard. She doesn't like beards. I have a beard dude. So Yeah, she said he was the only guy she thought was cute with a beard. It was no big deal to me, cause we were talking crushes when we were young. Then suddenly she said he had a nice body or something and said she thinks she had a thing for biceps and she said "I want to bite them" as she looked up his pics. I felt like, damn, I wish I had bigger arms and all that.

I mean. Yeah. As a BF, I felt like I'm ... I want to be hottest for her, or like, be what she finds attractive and improve on those qualities

Didn't really feel jealous though

I just felt bad about my own self

Um

She said she likes my beard though and we started talking about tattoos and I said I want one on my chest and back, a small next one and she was like no no no. She hated that. I said why? And she said why would you ruin that? Backs are sexy without it. I said yeah but idk I think tattoos can be sexy tbh

Then she said I have a hairy ass chest and they'd have to shave off my chest hair. I told her my chest isn't even hairy, it's really not. And she told me something that just shocked me. She said actually she's really... Doesn't like my chest hair and is still trying to accept it or deal with it and I've never felt so ugly... That ugly in so long. And I just know most girls love my chest hair... I have more now but a few years ago it used to be perfect, not too long, not too little, not too much. It was great. Everyone loved it. But recently yeah it's gotten more but still, it's not even that hairy.

But she told me like she doesn't like it nor like beards and she was being serious, like, about mine, and she was trying to be nice or something too but it was too late. I just covered my face and tried to not cry? Like. It hurt. I said I didn't know she wasn't physically attracted to me and the girls who like me are always physically really attracted to me first

I can't remember what she said but she was really grossed out by my chest hair... Like.. I just thought of sex and I... I thought omg she was repulsed by me

It makes me want to cry

Why are you dating me????!

Then she suddenly went on Facebook, oh yeah, she showed me her guyfriends beard. And she went off on how she wants to hang out with him and she said I'd eventually meet him. They weren't bad looking dudes. She went off and said how in school she got bored and Drew a dick on him and he drew a vagina on her. She said his beard is actually good. She is a bit on the fence about beards still

She then showed me this pretty girl and she said she was pretty, so I agreed, yeah she was very pretty. And she moved the camera away and said I can't look at her if I think she's pretty. She was joking but kinda not. I saw the BF of the girl and didn't think he was attractive and my GF said "they're such a cute couple, she's cute and he's so cute" and he had glasses that's her type. I said I can't tell if he's cute to be honest. And she goes "oh... Mmmf..." "Oh he's... Mmmmm hahaha" and she's just like... Really... Really showing she thinks he's really hot. She goes "he's sexy. He's super sexy." And we already had this talk about how I'm not allowed to call other girls attractive yet she's going OFF on this guy. He's white with glasses, totally her type. Opposite of me really, like how do you even like me. Oh wait you don't. And anyway she goes "yeah I don't see how any girl wouldnt think he's super cute"

At that point, I was already shutting down. The whole chest hair thing, beard thing, then this guy being hotter than me thing.

And she went off on her Facebook friends and kept going off about her guyfriends and trying to say shit but not saying it and saying things about them and I felt uncomfortable. She's going through each guys page and saying like "yeah I'm gonna message him" cause she hasn't talked to anyone in forever

Um

It got too much. She did this for so long. A lot of these guys were alternative like me

She then told me how they played cards against humanity with them at her house. Which is hard to get into cause her parents have to like them and are extremely strict. I said how'd they get in but I won't? I'm alternative too, and with a beard?

And she said they were together just a year ago

She said the parents have to like you and they might not like me cause of my hair, my beard, my style, my color...

And I felt even more... Inferior... And like I'm not actually fully liked here. And I said, I'm just like your friends though... And she said "yeah but... But you're different" and I said "not really.."

And it just. I wanted to be alone at that point. I got overwhelmed with that because I felt like I'm not good enough, that I'm too abnormal, too gross, too fucked up to be accepted and she even already doesn't like so many things about me, and I felt like how can this ever work, why are we still doing this, you're hurting me so much

I keep being made to feel inferior. I can't.

And yeah fuck it, I felt jealous as fuck with her and going off about her guyfriends and they were all actually attractive and it made me feel so uncomfortable... Some of the shit sounded a lil naive but I don't think so, I think she's fully aware some guys just want to fuck her. But

It doesn't matter

What hurts is everything

I feel singled out

I feel like every other guy she looks at his hotter to her

I don't feel good.

She said she's still trying to get used to my beard?? Really...

It's fine to have preferences, it doesn't matter. Nothing wrong.

I jus feel bad that she's actually chased after me and me thinking she actually thought I was super attractive. God. It makes me feel bad everytime she says she doesn't like this or that about me and or my physical being. Things that I hate about myself are being brought up and I'm being told how she thinks these things aren't pretty either

And it's making me feel so ugly

My self esteem is being torn

Ugh, I did not want to hear her gushing about her guyfriends or other guys.

She doesn't let me do that to her. But

Anyway

I asked to be alone and she said NOOO WHY, and she got actually upset and mad because she thinks she did something. I said no it's okay, I just need to be alone sometimes, I'll tell you when I'm back.

Yeah

I'll tell her. I always do.

I guess

I'm so ugly, I knew it.

I didn't know I had parts of me that were so repulsive

She wants me to shave my chest hair..