#i figure‚ i want it to be my private little positive treat

[magnusbae]

I confess, I am... kinda excited ; w ;

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 3.2k

taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!

an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...

You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...

These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.

Rafayel's stare was intense.

Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!

...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.

"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.

You were torn, somewhat.

You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.

...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.

Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.

You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—

"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."

You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.

However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.

Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.

Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—

But you felt like it was.

It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.

You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...

And his eyes.

God, his eyes.

Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.

It was visceral.

It sent a tingle down your spine.

You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—

Was a siren's allure truly so confining?

You had nowhere to run.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...

Intentional.

"Little muse, you're blushing."

If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.

Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.

"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.

"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."

And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.

Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.

You couldn't take any more of this.

You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—

A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.

"Hey. You tired?"

Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.

It wasn't helping.

"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.

And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.

A smirk spread over his features.

You were in for it.

"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."

"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"

He grinned.

"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."

You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.

"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."

You wished you could slap that smile off his face.

Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."

You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.

And he noticed.

"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."

The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.

"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.

You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.

"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."

For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—

Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.

"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"

He was infuriating.

A menace.

This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.

You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.

"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."

Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.

It was foul play.

Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.

It was as if you were... a show.

"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.

His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.

"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."

You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.

You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.

"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.

You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—

"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"

Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.

Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.

"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"

Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."

The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"

"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.

"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.

But you did as he said, anyway.

The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.

"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."

It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.

And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.

Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.

"R-Rafayel..."

Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.

"Keep going, princess, I'm here."

Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—

"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"

In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."

His words proved enough.

"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.

"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."

His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."

You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.

He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.

"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"

You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.

"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.

But he smirked.

A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.

"R- Rafayel...?"

"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."

Don't mind me.

He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.

"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."

The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.

Your eyes went wide.

"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.

And he didn't dare stop there.

He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.

"Look at me, princess," he whispered.

And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.

Your breath hitched.

Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.

"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"

He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.

It had you moaning almost immediately.

"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.

You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.

It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.

Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.

"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"

"Yeah? Need what, hm?"

Oh, he was having fun.

"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"

The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.

All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.

You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.

Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."

⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[bunni-v1]

Aommgg

Could I request the nrc staff + grim finding out you‘re a girl (plantonic)?

Or do they all know straight from the start?

TW: None

Info: Crowley, Grim, Sam, Cruel, Trien x Reader (Platonic)

🍓Hello lovely! I didn't want to make a whole long post about this, but I do want to talk about it. I'm so glad you asked! So the staff is... made aware of the situation, obviously. But, I think I'll go a little into depth on how each member deals with this information.

Crowley knows because... well... he sees you out of the ceremonial robes before anyone else does. He handles it as well as he does every other issue he comes across. "Just cover it up!" Famously said by Crowley. He's not unkind though, he does ensure that you get the help you need and he makes sure you keep what you need hidden, well, hidden. But... he won't do more than the bare minimum unless his hand is forced. Like... with Scarabia, he pretty much threatened the whole dorm with expulsion if they so much as uttered a word to anyone but amongst themselves. He is, unsurprisingly, not a father figure to you. He's more like... you're weird quirky uncle that you like, but only in small doses.

Grim, our little guy, finds out at the same time as Crowley... and he's a little harder to convince to keep his mouth shut to start. He doesn't like you, okay, you stole his position at NRC (like he had a chance at all). With a few well-placed cans of tuna from both you and Crowley, he keeps his little rat mouth shut. However, when you're actually granted studentship as NRC? His tune changes. It changes because Crowley holds his position as a student over his head, but it changes. Not a SINGLE person will ever hear you're a woman from Grim. He can't lose this position, not after so much work to get where he's gotten to. Besides, he grows to really love you! You're family to him, and no one out family. Seriously, he's so protective of it, once Ace and Deuce figure it out they're too scared to talk because of Grim's looming presence.

Sam is the first member of Staff to find out, other than Crowley. How? Crowley's sudden interest in pads, tampons, birth control, and all the fun stuff that comes with being a woman. Sam usually would just shrug his shoulders and excuse Crowley's quirky behavior, but then you come in looking like a lost deer and he gets it. He is genuinely so nice to you though! If you ever feel unsafe on campus, you talk to Sam and he'll handle it for you, okay? Sure, he jacks up the prices on your feminine products, but it's considerably less than his normal prices. Hell, if you're short, he'll "suddenly" remember he's got a discount on those items. He's like a cool older brother, honestly. He lets you hang out in the back of the shop and do homework when you ask, and he gives you snacks at a discount when you're there!

Crewel doesn't really treat you any differently than anyone else. Admittedly though, he's fond of you, even if you're a troublemaker. When you come into his class on your first day in a uniform six times too big for you, he feels pity for you. You didn't ask to be here, and now you have to wear that atrocious old uniform? You poor little pup. He's not exactly easy on you, but he's more understanding of your mistakes. Eventually, after you get to know him better, he offers to get you a nicer uniform and also privately tutor you. This is his excuse for keeping you busy so that you don't have as many chances to get found out, and it's also because you are horrifically failing his class and it looks bad on him.

Trien treats you the most differently out of everyone on staff. The SECOND he found out you were a girl and were being forced to hide that fact for Crowley's sake? Oh my god, grandpa was PISSED. Crowley got an EARFUL after that meeting. This man makes it his mission to make your stay as comfortable as he possibly can make it because sevens know Crowley won't be doing SHIT. After he meets you? Oh my god, you remind him of his own girls when they were little. He absolutely adores you, and everyone can tell. It's so odd to the other students because he clearly favors you, and when they ask you about it you've got no clue. He is your dad here at NRC, as out of character as that might be. You are a young woman lost in a world that is not kind to you going through so much more than you need to. He doesn't want to add more to your plate. You can come to him for anything and he will provide as best as he can.

Vargas (I'm sorry for forgetting about him lol) is a lot like Crewel in the fact that he doesn't treat you too differently from his other students. You're still made to push yourself to your upper limits for gym, still expected to keep up with your peers, and still expected to meet his general expectations. However, if it's way too much for you to do, out of fear of Crowley and Trien breathing down his neck, he'll lessen your load. Otherwise, he doesn't really have much chance to be around you outside of class. He finds you amusing and knows you've got a good head on your shoulders, but that's about it from him.

[sooniebby]

This is my first time doing a request, I hope it doesn't bother you and you can choose the character you want to cast as Reader's partner. So imagine a world where hybrids exist, but they only make up a few percent of the world's population.

Reader is a snow leopard hybrid, but because the snow leopard is smaller than a leopard, much smaller than a tiger, and slightly smaller than a forest lynx, so he has the character of fluffy white ears and tail and short height, he works in an office and because his big and long fluffy tail can annoy people he often bites his own tail so as not to disturb others and it makes people who are in the same department with him spend a little time just to stroke his head and get a purring reaction from him.

This was heard by the Office manager's ears and became curious which in the end he made Reader a private secretary and often stroked Reader's head, until one day he accidentally pulled Reader's tail and got an unexpected reaction. Since then he has often pulled Reader's tail with 'accident' reasons which ended with office sex.

You can change it or ignore it if you feel uncomfortable, sorry if this is too long and sorry if my English is bad. Have a good day

:]

ఌ 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count › 3.6k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › breeding, size kink, creampie, mentions of free use

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

(Name) didn’t hate being a hybrid. Sure there was the weirdos that wanted to keep him a pet but most treated him as a regular person. The only odd part was having people just touching his head.

It certainly didn’t help that he couldn’t help the purring that happened whenever he did. It just kept going so he ignored it most time. The pats were nice anyway.

At his job, his boring office job that he’d been debating on quitting, had two people who just couldn’t let go of his hair (plus ears). Kuroo and Bokuto loved to pet him as if he was a house cat.

He usually purred whenever they touched him since they figured out how to get that reaction from it. His ears were sensitive, don’t judge.

(Name)’s tail swished around as he began to get irritated at the paper work in front of him. That damn boss of his was annoying him with the amount of shit he continued to give him on a daily basis. He was just about to get up from his seat when someone stepped in his tail.

He cried out in pain, which was more akin to a cat’s scream, as he grabbed his tail and held it close to himself. Everyone in the office stared at him in shock while the culprit, Yamaguchi, looked as if he wanted to kill himself.

“I’m so sorry!!! Please forgive me!!” He cried, bowing down onto the ground. (Name) simply nodded. He knew he didn’t do it on purpose.

His tail was much longer than normal hybrids. It also didn’t help that he was shorter so it made his tail appear longer than it actually was.

But Yamaguchi wouldn’t be the only one to step on it. Soon enough, at least everyone stepped on it at least once. Kuroo twice became he didn’t watch where his big ass feet went but (Name) had to figure out what to do.

The pain was becoming unbearable and he was sure another two steps would cause his tail to break. He decided, when every other idea sounded stupid, to just hold it in his mouth.

(Name) was used to the fur in his mouth so it didn’t bother him to lightly hold the tail. This way, he didn’t have to fold it into an uncomfortable position for longer than hour. A few times he wrapped his tail around his waist but that always got a cramp after an hour or so.

“It’s like you got your own silencer,” Bokuto once said, scratching (Name)’s hair during his break. (Name) purred happily, his tail curling around Bokuto’s waist to hold him close.

“Oh, he could use his tail during sex.” Kuroo suddenly said, a smirk on his lips.

Kenma looked confused. “Why would he?” He was resisting the urge to pet (Name). His love for cats extended to (Name) heavily but he never actually touched him in fear of making uncomfortable.

“To muffle his moans,” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Perfect for when you don’t want to get caught.”

“Oh, so dirty,” Bokuto laughed.

“Weirdo…” Kenma whispered.

(Name) was too busy enjoying his massage to care.

The four of them stopped talking when Iwaizumi had walked past them. He nodded in greeting which they returned. Iwaizumi looked mainly confused on Bokuto petting (Name) but didn’t say anything as he walked to his office.

Iwaizumi was the boss’s secretary. He was hardly outside of his office. It usually meant something bad happened if he was.

“Do you think the boss knows?” Kuroo asked.

“Know what?” (Name) questioned, frowning when Bokuto stopped his massage.

“About you. I heard he loves hybrids.”

“In a fetish way?”

“Dunno. Probably.”

Kenma sighed. “I’m getting back to work.”

Bokuto seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before shrugging. “He hardly comes out of his room like Iwaizumi. He wouldn’t care about (Name).”

“True.”

But how wrong they were.

It was a week later after Iwaizumi saw the petting zoo with Bokuto and (Name). And suddenly (Name) was being requested to meet the Boss. He felt worried.

Sure hybrids had protections on them but this was a private company. What couldn’t they get away with if they paid the right people? His coworkers all looked a bit worried themselves as they watched him walk away to the office.

They certainly didn’t help his heart calm down.

He knocked on the door waiting for the voice of a much older man to allow him in. But he only heard a much younger voice. (Name) hesitantly walked inside the office and saw a man possibly only four years his senior.

Oh, he was much younger than he thought. Okay, maybe he could get off the hook for whatever problem he caused. (Name) quickly bowed and closed the door, walking over to the seat in front of the desk.

The man’s brown hair was slicked back with a nice pair of glasses on his face. His smile was wide, a bit creepy but way more welcoming than (Name) had imagined. The man watched him for a second before his smile faded and he slide over a folder.

“Mister Hiragi, yes? You’ve been working with our company for over four years, right when I started after I took over for my father.”

“Yes…”

“I would like to offer you a promotion. You handled any work I sent your way with ease. I believe you deserve a higher position.”

(Name) nodded, a smile on his face. Oh, guess he could stay here a bit longer.

“My personal assistant, is the job I’m offering.”

“Isn’t Iwaizumi-San your secretary?”

“A personal assistant is different than a secretary. You’ll only work for me. Iwaizumi doesn’t have any power over you.”

(Name) hummed, his tail swishing around as he was deep in thought. His eyes were down on the folder, not noticing the man’s eyes that followed his tail with a hint of mischievousness.

“If this is alright for me to ask, will the salary increase?”

“Of course.”

“Then I accept.”

“Great. You’ll start next week, enjoy your Friday, Mister Hiragi.”

(Name) was right where he wanted him. Just how lucky was he?

ꕥ

(Name) had learned the boss name was Oikawa and that Iwaizumi had no fear in talking shit to his face. The amount of ‘shittykawa’ that or ‘asskawa’ this, Iwaizumi still kept his job.

He envied him.

He wanted to cuss out Oikawa too.

After the weekend, that Monday he first started his new high paying job, he was told to make coffee.

A fucking coffee!

After that, he was told to organize a shelf that had bothering Oikawa because he kept forgetting to higher a cleaner. Maybe he should’ve read the contract first before saying yes. But he told himself it was good money.

But it wasn’t just that that made him want to cuss him out, no it was the constant touching of his tail.

(Name) was bending down to pick up some trash when he felt Oikawa grasp his tail. It was a quick touch, as if he wanted to just feel if it was real. And it wasn’t the last time either.

(Name)’s office was now technically Oikawa’s. His old cubicle was given to a new employee so he couldn’t even go back to it if he wanted to. He did visit his coworkers during breaks but he didn’t get the Bokuto massages or Kuroo scratches anymore like he loved.

No, he had to worry with the tail pervert who continuously grasped it before letting go as if it burned him. He really wanted to know what was so tempting about it but decided the money was too good to take any chances.

There were a few times Oikawa pet his hair. It usually lasted just a second, but still resulted in a purr from (Name). (Name) wondered if it was because he was missing head pats for him to enjoy the simply touch from Oikawa.

“Hiragi, can you please hand this out for me?” Oikawa asked, handing over a stack of paper into his hands without even looking up from his computer. (Name) scrunched up his lips into a snarl but hummed, turning over to walk away when Oikawa grabbed his tail.

(Name) stopped and turned back to look at him but only got a mischievous smirk from Oikawa as he let go. His tail swished angrily as he huffed and stomped away to hand out the papers. What was so fun about his tail anyway?

It was similar to a regular cat! He couldn’t just get a cat if he liked touching tails so much?

The rest of the work for Oikawa was surprisingly easy. He felt as if his workload had lessen actually. Sharing an office with Oikawa felt weird though. He had to sit on the chair across from Oikawa, effectively sharing the desk.

It was a large desk so they weren’t cramped but it still felt a bit weird. But he wouldn’t complain. Oikawa never spoke to him during his job unless necessary. He guessed the only thing that truly bothered him about Oikawa was the tail touching.

At least he didn’t have to worry about people stepping on it to though. He was free to let it move around. But he still sometimes had the urge to bite on it again. It had become a habit at this point.

“What species are you?” Oikawa suddenly asked, not looking up from his paperwork.

(Name) blinked. His ears twitched. Most people just knew by looking at him. “A snow leopard.”

“Is that why your hair is white?”

“Yes.”

Oikawa glanced up at him, as if he was trying to study (Name) before a smirk appeared on his lips.

“Has anyone ever played with your tail before?”

“I…”

“Leave him alone, Shittykawa.”

Iwaizumi was in the office. When did he get there? (Name) watched as Oikawa pouted, a look that actually looked cute on him before turning on his blank face. He guessed it was his work default setting. Iwaizumi began speaking to Oikawa about something (Name) didn’t care about so he tuned them out.

His tail curled around in the air as he finished his work much earlier than expected. He was bored. Oikawa was still speaking to Iwaizumi about something so (Name) decided to bring his tail up to his mouth and lightly bite on it, his ears twitching in delight.

“Have a good day, Hiragi.” Iwaizumi suddenly said, walking away to leave.

“What about me? Where’s my goodbye?” Oikawa whined.

“Go fuck yourself.”

The door slammed shut behind Iwaizumi as (Name) wanted to laugh. He was glad his tail was in his mouth at the moment so he muffled it easily. (Name) glanced over at Oikawa and paused when he saw the odd look he was giving him.

Oikawa looked shocked at the sight in front of him. What? Had he never seen a cat hold it’s own tail before? Possibly not a hybrid, (Name) thought to himself as he pulled his tail away from his mouth. He forced a small smile and got back to staring at his computer.

He wanted to go home.

What he didn’t notice was the smirk on Oikawa’s lips.

He was liking this hybrid more and more each day.

ꕥ

(Name) placed down the coffee on Oikawa’s side of the desk, tired of doing the same morning task everyday for almost a month now. But the pay was too good to complain to anyone. Oikawa didn’t even say thank you to him anymore.

When he turned to go back to his side, Oikawa grabbed his tail. And it wasn’t a usual grasp. No, he fucking tugged it. Harshly.

(Name) had always hated how sensitive his tail was to every touch. He didn’t screech. He didn’t yell or howl in pain.

No, he fucking moaned. His back arched as he gripped at the desk beside him. It was silent after his pitiful moan. Oikawa’s hand was still holding his tail while it wiggled to get away.

(Name) wanted to kill himself.

Maybe he should quit.

“Sorry…” Oikawa muttered, releasing his tail.

“It’s fine…” (Name) excuses himself to the toilet. He never wanted to wake up ever again.

It certainly didn’t help that after that, Oikawa didn’t stop touching his tail. No, it seemed like he wanted to get the same reaction that he got he first time. At first, (Name) skillfully dodged most of this.

But there was still a few times Oikawa grabbed it right before he could move it and tug it, earning a whine or gasp from (Name) each time. It also bothered (Name) that he looked forward to it each day.

He couldn’t exactly pull his own tail. His body sent signals in his head that it would hurt and not be pleasurable whenever he tried during masturbation but Oikawa proved it wrong.

(Name) decided that if Oikawa was going to act like this but not do anything further, he might as well try to fuck him. He could always find a new job. Dick was more important.

He just needed some tips.

And he knew just who to ask.

“I’m so disgusted you’re speaking to me about that man.”

“I’m so sorry, Iwaizumi-San! But you have to help me! It’s a…. Hybrid! Thing, y’know? My inner (?) animal is bonded to him now…”

(Name) was spitting out some bullshit but his pouty frown made Iwaizumi not kick him out as soon as he mentioned sex.

“Well, he doesn’t have a fetish for hybrids. He’s just asking weird with you. He just said you were cute last time I asked. Honestly, just ask him.”

“Won’t it be inappropriate?”

“It’s inappropriate to talk to me about this stuff. Shittykawa is also inappropriate to touch your tail. Also your coworkers. But he’s too fucking lazy to enforce rules so I guess they don’t matter.”

(Name) blinked. Oh, he didn’t know it was inappropriate for someone to touch an hybrid’s tail or ears. It made sense….

Yeah, in a more regulated company Bokuto and literally everyone else would’ve been fired.

“Oh, well, thank you.”

“Just have sex when everyone has left, please. I don’t want to hear Lazykawa’s moans.”

(Name) wondered how many nicknames Iwaizumi had for him.

But he now had a plan. Just ask for sex. Oikawa couldn’t say no. He was obviously mildly interested if he kept trying to make him moan.

(Name) wondered how he should execute the plan, however. Since it seemed during the work day, Oikawa ignored him the entire time. Only two times did he look at him and one was to tell him he had a stain on his shirt. The other was to ask for a snack from the vending machine.

It reached around 6 pm, the time most people had left on a Friday night. He was supposed to be leaving now, suggested by Oikawa’s stare at him from time to time. His tail swished around as he closed his laptop, wanting to fake getting ready to leave.

He yawned, as his tail reached over and flicked at Oikawa’s glasses. Oikawa looked up from his computer, a confused look on his face. (Name) grinned, curling his tail around his glasses and pulling it off his face.

“Oikawa-San, you seem to obsess over my tail.”

Oikawa closed his laptop and stood up from his seat. He towered over (Name), a grin on his face.

“It’s a cute tail, Hiragi.”

(Name) placed the glasses on the desk and walked over to Oikawa’s side. “Oikawa… do you want to see me…”

“See you?”

“See on your desk, naked?”

(Name) felt himself cringe a bit at his words but he knew it worked at the smirk Oikawa gave him. He got him so easily. His tail reached up to wrap around Oikawa’s neck and smirked.

“My tail looks so good around your neck.”

ꕥ

“How does my hand feel around your tail, baby?”

(Name) squirmed at the tug of his tail. He was fully naked at the bottom with only his dress shirt on. His tie used to bound his hands together which left him unable to do much. He could take it, it wasn’t too tight but it felt nice to have them.

Oikawa was way more aggressive than he had imagined. After his little comment, he had pushed him to lay down face first into the desk. Swiftly pulling down his pants and underwear to get a good look at his ass. His ass was something Oikawa had only seen through pants that hardly captured the look bare.

He massaged them before delivering two quick slaps to them, earning a gasp from (Name). Oikawa was taking his sweet time with giving (Name) any sense of penetration. It was as if he wanted him to beg for it.

Oikawa tightened his grip around (Name)’s tail and pulled once more, enjoying the whine from the small man beneath him. His body was much larger compared to the hybrid’s, covering it with ease whenever he leaned down.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on (Name)’s bubble butt, enjoying the giggle that left his lips. (Name) grunted when he felt Oikawa bite down on his butt, using a free hand to massage his left cheek.

Oikawa had thought only female hybrids would have self lubrication. So he pulled out a bottle of lube from his desk drawer, he had masturbated in here once. But to his shock, (Name) was leaking slick.

“You have slick?” Oikawa asked, a look of awe on his face.

(Name) blushed in embarrassment. “We can all produce slick… you can just fuck me, my body can handle it.”

“Hm, really? Then realistically, I could grab you whenever I wanted during work and just fuck you?”

“Yes…”

“We should add that to your contract. You’re a personal assistant for a reason, let’s add sex to the list,” Oikawa joked but (Name) couldn’t hate the idea.

It sounded sexy to think about entering Oikawa’s office and being told to cockwarm him during the day. (Name) mewled at the thought as Oikawa slipped in two fingers easily, he stretched his hole a bit to get him ready. Whenever his fingers went close to his prostate, Oikawa only grazed it.

“Oikawa… c’mon… fuck me.” (Name) whined, tail twitching in Oikawa’s hand.

“Want me to pump me full with my cum? That’s what you hybrid’s love, yeah? To be stuffed full.”

(Name) nodded. “I wanna see you though…”

Oikawa hummed as he flipped (Name) to lay on his back. He pulled down his pants and his cock was free to the cold air. (Name) grinned as he watched Oikawa pull at his tie, loosening it. His hair was still slicked back as the light from the sunset shined behind him.

(Name)’s tail curled as Oikawa rubbed his cock against his slick covered hole. He waited with a baited breath, his more animalistic side mewling at the chance of getting breed.

It took two more fake outs until Oikawa slammed his cock inside (Name). He gripped his waist and held him still as started out with a fast pace. (Name) cried out, legs wrapping around Oikawa’s waist.

(Name) moved his tail to his mouth to muffle his moans. Sure, most workers would’ve been gone by now but you never know those weirdos who worked unpaid overtime. Oikawa seemed to into it as he somehow managed to get faster. His cock continuous brushed against his prostate, causing (Name) to arch his back.

His ass was dripping with slick, allowing Oikawa to easily fuck him. The sound of squelching, skin slapping together, and the muffled cries from (Name) filled the office. (Name) was mainly surprised the desk could hold his weight with how fast and harsh Oikawa was thrusting inside of him.

It was squeaking with each thrust, making (Name) worried it would’ve break beneath him.

“(Name)…” Oikawa grunted.

(Name) hummed. He was too far gone to notice him saying his first name. The feeling of Oikawa’s cock inside him was dumbing him down.

“(Name), this isn’t a one time thing, I hope you know that…” Oikawa grabbed his legs and pushed them to rest near his head. (Name) felt himself cry at the new position. The burn of being stretched out like this as well as Oikawa’s cock reaching in even deeper.

He felt close.

(Name) removed his tail from his mouth and used it to wrap around Oikawa’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Oikawa kissed him back as his thrusting began to become inconsistent. He was also close.

“Inside…” (Name) mewled when Oikawa pulled away from the kiss. He couldn’t get pregnant. Not by a male human but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t like the feeling of cum inside of him.

“You think it’ll take? Some cute little snow leopards.”

(Name) moaned. He wanted that badly.

It took two more thrusts before Oikawa pushed in deep inside to have his orgasm. (Name) was right after him, crying out before moving his tail to muffle it.

Oikawa’s previously slicked back hair was out and wild, covering half of his face as he grinned at (Name). (Name) purred at the sight of him and wrapped his tail around his waist.

Maybe he shouldn’t leave his job so quickly.

“If you guys are done… I’ll just slid the paperwork underneath the door,” the sound of paper sliding from the floor was heard.

The voice was Ushijima.

“Congrats on your new relationship.” Ushijima said before leaving.

Actually, maybe he should find a new job.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

This was fun to write. Thank you for the request!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69

[renshengs]

the state of juwon and kwon hyuk's relationship is so fascinating to me. flesh & blood son vs. son-my-father-wishes-he-had. that strange awkward and sometimes sad tension between them. a lot of it is a difference in backgrounds: juwon doesn't fully understand kwon hyuk's attachment to han kihwan nor kwon hyuk's willingness to serve and kiss up to someone like that, while kwon hyuk finds it difficult to fathom juwon's rebellion/resistance toward his father, who is an extremely powerful sponsor to have and represents to kwon hyuk a path to success, a way out of the implied desperation and poverty of his background.

they both like each other more than they realize and more than they'd want to admit. kwon hyuk has known juwon for a decade without Knowing him. they're both occupying several roles in each other's lives at once, all of them intersecting with each other, and the overlaps make it very awkward. kwon hyuk is juwon's brother figure and his former tutor and the middleman between him and his father and the fabled "kid your parents won't stop comparing you to" and also like, his colleague. a family friend. he's the only person juwon hangs out with, and their idea of "hanging out" is mostly just sitting parallel to each other in the private section of some gorgeous uppity seoul bar while kwon hyuk badgers juwon about friends and dating and, you know, pleasing his father.

kwon hyuk's approach to being a good hyung to juwon is also very funny. he's pretty serious about it. there's very obviously a part of him that wants to knock some sense into this elite rich prettyboy's head so that he doesn't get himself stuck in places kwon hyuk can't dig him back out of, but also this is made ineffective by the fact that his methods often rely on (unintentionally) condescending juwon, such as at the beginning of episode 10. which, like, he wasn't even wrong. juwon was absolutely not equipped to be facing lee dongsik.

the problem with his approach is that he's going by the older-sibling-who-is-better-than-you manual, half-chiding and half-lecturing, because he is not just juwon's hyung but also han kihwan's perfect little helper, the son figure he turns to, especially when his actual son disappoints him, which results in kwon hyuk feeling even more threatened by the need to be flawless and Unlike Juwon. due to their awkward inexplicable positions in each other's lives, juwon is wary of him for so long because he interprets the attention kwon hyuk gives him as an extension of kwon hyuk's supposed lifelong gratitude toward han kihwan. he's dissuaded by kwon hyuk's proximity to han kihwan. their relationship is burdened by the presence of juwon's father crowding out the potential space for closeness between them, which is, among other smaller reasons, the main reason why they can't grow any closer to each other. it quite literally takes the whole show and life-altering discoveries for juwon to finally open up enough that he becomes willing to reach out to kwon hyuk, not because he's 100% certain that kwon hyuk even likes him that much but because he's finally accepted the fact that, fine, he does care about this annoying snooty hyung of his, and cares enough that he doesn't want kwon hyuk to be caught in the crossfire.

and kwon hyuk does meet him halfway when he reaches out! juwon is rewarded by the narrative for letting himself be more honest and vulnerable with kwon hyuk than he's ever dared to be, and this time kwon hyuk considers his words and listens to him instead of treating him like a baby who doesn't know anything. it's sooo important to me that they're able to grow closer once han kihwan is out of the picture. it's so so important to me that juwon has people in his life who are not lee dongsik nor the rest of the manyang squad. i think post-canon both of them catch up sometimes when juwon's in seoul and it's—easier. better. feels realer.

[ma1dmer]

Cyberpunk - Elizabeth and Jefferson Peralez NSFW

i have two hands for a reason...

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): they sit with you, chatting about their plans, Elizabeth offers you a cigarette, if you are in a hotel they get some room service, if they are back home, Jefferson opens up a bottle of wine

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): Jefferson loves legs, he digs his fingers in your thighs and your calves whenever he spreads your legs apart, kissing up he length of them, giving his wife the same sort of treatment. Elizabeth is similarly fascinated with your lips, she gently bites the bottom of your lip with every kiss.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): Elizabeth hates the mess, and the clean up, so its quite common for her to urge Jefferson to cum inside of you, either spreading your legs further apart until she can feel the muscles tick in your thighs from exertion or pushing your head down the length of his cock until it hits the back of your throat while ordering you softly to swallow

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): they love a good roleplay session, you as their cute little secretary, being ordered around by them, maybe you are their secret affair partner being caught in bed, or sometimes, mixing up things, Jefferson on his knees for you and Elizabeth, her lovingly tying him up for the two of you to use

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): They both have plenty of experience, they've been married a while so they know their bodies inside and out, if they wanted to simply cum they could be done in minutes, but where is the fun in that, you bring in something different to their dynamic

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): Jefferson likes you from the back, doggy style, pulling your hips back towards him, Elizabeth prefers you on your side, her thigh over your hip, her arm around your chest, most nights they compromise

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): definitely more serious, they aren't above being cheesy or joking around a bit, but its just enough to be relaxed, they are there for a reason and like to stay focused though

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): both of them keep themselves trimmed, Elizabeth lets a nice little landing strip

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): they never shy away from being affectionate with each other, maybe Jefferson pulls Elizabeth a bit too softly to kiss her above you, maybe Elizabeth holds his hand a bit too tenderly during the scene , whispering into his ear. Depending on your closeness to them you might be privy to this affection as well. However no matter what they still treat you to some nice wine every so often. Or send you a bouquet of flowers with another invitation.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): they have each other and you, they are usually offering each other a helping hand with that, so they don't need to be doing that

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): roleplaying, ropes, obviously threeways etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): being such public figures, they need their privacy, that doesn't mean they don't like to spice things up, they'll buy out a private space in one of night city's clubs just for you three to have fun, Jefferson is not above asking you to visit him in his office, something Elizabeth isn't too fond of, not liking the risk of you being seen coming and going by yourself

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): my wife and i saw you across the bar and we loved your vibe

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): i think they both would be into the idea of having pictures of the three of you having fun, but they would never risk being exposed like that

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Elizabeth loves face sitting, she'll pull her panties to her side climbing over you without even taking off her skirt before taking a seat, when it comes to Jefferson she loves guiding your head, telling you exactly how he likes it, how to use your tongue, how to take him deeper, pushing against your throat to feel the shape of him inside your mouth

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): They like to take their time with things, they clear out their entire night for you so there is no point into rushing, its languid and depends if they take turns or gang up together

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): They like them, but usually you are not as easily accessible so they stick to being with each other when the need arises, if you pop up into their minds they'll use you as a conversation topic in their dirty talk and when they are done, they' ll make sure to call you up to plan for your next rendezvou

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): in theory yes, in action not much, their lifestyle doesn't let them and even when you are doing some sort of scene with them they drop it quite quickly in favour of chasing their pleasure

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): Elizabeth usually lasts longer than Jefferson, she'll always take over the second he is done, with her fingers, mouth or anything else to help you get off

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): almost a necessity, they are both big fans of them, Elizabeth with her strap on and Jefferson to keep you plugged up sometimes, never mind all the more special ones, like gags and ropes

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): this falls up to you, if you enjoy being teased, they are fully on board with itJefferson toying with you and then snatching his hand away when he feels you tightening around him or his fingers with a chuckle, Elizabeth gets a bit more creative, avoiding touching you where you want her the most altogether, playing with your chest or stroking your thighs instead

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): they are very talkative, especially with each other, lots of praise towards you, asking each other rhetorical questions about you, as if you aren't even there, merely an object to be used, Elizabeth is also more likely to order you around, even when you are topping Jefferson she still tells you what to do

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): between the two of them Jefferson is the more kinky one, Elizabeth having a few of her own kinks but usually quite happy to go with what he enjoys, or finding the middle ground for the both of them, Jefferson enjoys being a switch, while Elizabeth specifically enjoys being in control, so having you there is perfect for both of them

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): not very high, but the stress of their job gets to them, usually thats what makes them call for you, either something to celebrate about, or some stress

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Depending on your relationship with them you might be asked politely to leave or stay the night with them, if you do get sent away they always make sure someone has you escorted back to your place

[igotanidea]

chapter 1 : Another privateer: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader

A/N: I'm having so much fun writing this. So much that chapter 2 may be coming faster than expected 😊 😊 😊

CHAPTER 1 : ORIGINS

Y/N Y/L/N was a Grisha. An Inferni, to be precise. Raised in the small palace but never adjusting properly to the royal life. She was not like Zoya, proud, confident and more queen-like than an actual queen. She was not like Genya, careful, gentle and quiet (even if that came with a bit of cunning). Or like Nadya with all her positive attitude and calmness.

No.

Y/N was someone you would call a trouble maker.

More often than not her kefta was disheveled, torn or dirtied, her hair messy, her face reddened, eyes glistening. She was the kid who was running through the palace corridors, fooling around, teasing and playing pranks on everyone else. Not listening to her Inferni teachers, skipping classes and causing havoc. All those rules and limitations that she was so swiftly finagling were boring and confining and she could not deal with them. She did not want to deal with them. She did not want to relent.

However, such vivid expression of emotions and god, forbid – fun -was unacceptable.

Especially from a kid.

Especially from an Inferni, who dealt with the most dangerous and unpredictable element.

And especially from a legacy as her father used to call her, even if the sound of the word made her sick to the stomach. Much to her resentment Y/N came from a long line of merited, noble house and what was expected of her had little to do with joy. Her father was the personal advisor of the king so her family was always close to the royals and that meant attending banquets, balls, playing the role of someone she was not. And someone who she did not wish to be. A lady.

She had obligations, duties and strict agenda and it was weighting her down.

“Sit still!” her mother scoffed her during another preparation for another royal dinner. “You have to act like a girl and look like one, not a tatterdemalion.”

She never complied with any rules.

One day, when it all became too much, she used her skills to set the curtains in one of the classes on fire and run away from, as far as possible. And that’s how she found herself in the presence of second son, prince Nikolai Lantsov. Of course she knew who he was when full of anger, with fierce face expression run into the forest surrounding the palace, ready to burn it to the ground. Of course she remembered that a prince should be treated with respect. She clearly recollected all the bow in his presence, act coy and cautiously, be gentle….. Saints! Even the memory made her roll her eyes and she could not care less. As for the prince he took one glance at her messy figure and literal fire in her eyes made him gasp in awe on the inside and smirk characteristically on the outside. He remembered that girl.

“Hard day?”

“You have no idea.” She muttered flopping onto the ground with a heavy groan.

“I actually think I do. You know, I am the prince after all.” Silent emphasis on the title did not slip by her.

“Oh I’m sorry, moi tsarevich.” She immediately jumped to her feet and bowed in the funniest way he had ever seen, almost tripping over her own feet “forgive me for my audacity. Will you grant me the honor of resting on the ground in your presence?”

“You’re something different, aren’t you?” he looked at her carefully with sparks in his eyes “not like the other Grishas here?”

“Whatever that may mean, I guess not.” She shrugged “Whatever, but my parents would probably disinherit me if they knew how I’m addressing the prince at the moment.”

“Good thing the prince appreciates your honest attitude.” He laughed whole-heartedly and all the tension in her shoulders disappeared just because of that sound. Apparently he was something else than what was presented to people as well.

“Does he?” she raised an eyebrow “I thought him to be the one greedy for blarney and cocky.”

“Can you blame me? I mean look at that handsome face.” Nikolai grinned and that earned him a chuckle from her “Someone’s feeling better, I see. I know, I know, my sense of humor is impeccable.”

“Cocky it is” she nodded to herself.

 “True, I don’t mind a good praise. But I’m bored with pretenses and restrictions. I can’t really do much of what I want in the palace and that is just…..”

“Infuriating?”  

“Yeah…..” He glanced at her once again but this time it was like he really saw her “I’m Nikolai. Not a prince, not a tsarevich, not a royal.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls you flirt.” Y/N spat, but deep inside started to wonder if he really was on a fist name basis with every girl Grisha in the palace. Given his direct approach to the matter that truly was something to wonder about. And it made her feel ….. weird. Saints! She barely met him and he managed to spark something with all the attention focused on her. Probably the first person she met who did not considered her a menace.

“Careful there.” he warned playfully “You got yourself in good terms with me and if you want to keep being yourself you’re gonna need someone to look after you. Guess that’s gonna be me.”

“Look after? Really? I’m not some stray cat who needs protecting. Besides, I’ve been doing fine till now.”

“How about the turn fine into amazing?” he smiled and she could not help reciprocating. “come on, look me in the face and tell me that does not sound promising.”

“I’m Y/N.” she laughed unable to do what he asked but not wishing to say it straight away “Want to make some mess?”

***

From that day they became friends, but kept it in secret, stealing all the little moments together. No one knew. For three years. And it all came out because of Zoya and her scheming.

***

There were probably better ways of meeting than sneaking out in the middle of night to that one spot in the forest, but both Y/N and Nikolai had some flair for dramatics. He was a prince trained in sword fights and combat and she was an Inferni, what was the worst thing that could have happened , right? Besides, the palace and adjoining grounds were a safe place, right?

“Nik! You came!” Y/n emerged from behind the trees immediately spotting her best buddy, already there, waiting for her. Honestly, she felt relieved when he showed up first. Nikolai has been acting strange for the last couple of weeks, avoiding her, defending himself with all the duties. Well, as if she didn’t have things to do! Between being Grisha and training and her obligations towards father and the crown, she really had to cut down on sleep and rest to tear time for him. But it was important. Maybe it was more important for her than for him. And all that’s been happening got her mind spinning and well, worrying.  

“Missed me that much?” he smirked observing her coming closer, her coat disheveled, hair messed, as usual since some things never changed, even after years.  

“Pf! You wish.”

“And what if I do?” that mocking expression disappeared from his face, replaced by seriousness and care.

“I bet you say that to all the girls…..” she laughed, trying her best to defuse the tension. Even though the Inferni were the Grishas who could not start a fire out of nothing, at that moment she swore she could make a flame from all the feelings inside.  

“No. No I don’t” he took her hand in his, caressing it gently and intertwining their fingers. Her small hand aligning so well with his.  

“What are you doing?” as much as she wanted to turn around and run away that simple gesture as holding hands got her absolutely frozen in place. Rooted to the ground.

“Dazzling you with my charm?” his other hand travelled up to cup her cheek.

“It doesn’t work on me.” She opposed, eyes widening in shock, breath hitched in anticipation of what was coming.

“Too bad.” he leaned forward, but before their lips met pulled away leaving her absolutely confused.

She frowned but the teasing smirk on his face told her everything she had to know.

“Told you” Y/N shrugged “it’s not working. Bet you know it as well since you backed down on your own.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He spat back.

“Mhm. Sure. Whatever game you were playing here, tsarevich, you lost. Bet you don’t like that, do you?”

“How was your day, fireball? „he let go of her completely, sitting on the tree trunk and patting the spot next to him invitingly “Managed to fry any dummy of an opponent?”

“Many. But you know, the night is still young, I got a chance to add another one to the list.”

“Got your mind on anyone in particular?”

“Maybe. Not that it’s of your concern. How was your day, prince?” she was trying, but could not hide that annoyed tone and he knew well enough that if it came to calling him with official titles it was serious. Good. At least now he knew what feeling she was hiding inside. Not that he was going to take it easy on her. “did you managed to charm anyone? Your brother, perhaps?”

“Don’t even get me started on that…..”

***      

Ever since that almost-kiss in the forest something has changed between them and it was hard to determine whether it was a good or a bad shift. There was a lot more teasing than usual and that giving the fact, Nikolai were a natural at that. But now, when he saw her in the palace or in the ground or in the library he was always approaching her, commenting on her fighting skills and technique, even in the presence of other Grishas. On top of being known as the most unruly person in the Little Palace, now the rumors considering her relationship with prince has started. Oh, Nikolai just loved to make her life harder than it had to be and she had enough, ready to confront him and tell him off.

Right at the moment.

But when she ditched her Inferni practice (again) and was on her way to the royal wing of the palace, unexpected appearance of her father put her off the stride.

“Y/N” he smiled in a predatory manner, putting arm on her shoulders and walking her away from destination “I’ve got good news. Our family has been invited to the banquet. You included.”

“What? No. No way. I’m not….”

“You are going, I won’t hear a word about it. And you will behave.”

“but….” She squirmed. The grip on her was hard and hurt to the point when some tears showed in her eyes. And of course that was the moment Nikolai chose to show up. Just one glance at her face was enough for him to take action, she did not wish for.

“Lord f/l/n.” he spoke in the most royal tone he could.

“moi tsarevich.”

“Y/N” Nik turned his gaze on her, but she did not say and only another press on the shoulders made her mutter some sort of greeting “I think there’s no need to keep your daughter a prisoner, lord f/l/n. Whatever she may have done we have other sort of punishments in the palace.”

“Of course.” with such words she was able to breathe normally again “this one’s a challenge. Refused ‘to attend the …..”

“I know. “Nik smirked “but I really hope to see you tonight, Y/n”

“Tonight?! What do you mean tonight!?” she cried out “I need like a week of mental preparations for that!”

“No, you don’t” both men said in unison, each with different tone.

Yes, she was forced to attend.

to be continued

tags are open.

@pinksirensong - you're probably gonna kill me when you get back and see all the things I tagged you in ... ...

[cringecannon]

I know people talk about Gortash a lot already, but I can't help myself — he's so sinfully hot ToT I want him to manipulate and trick me into being indebted to him. I want to be a reluctant knight or an artist at his service, that he one day decides to ALSO coerce into fucking.

I also adore that you make this a safe space to share horny thoughts. Thank you for that.

I’ve accepted my place as The Gortash Blog. He’s a co-owner at this point.

People in his employ are some of his favorites to exploit, because what are you going to do about it? He’s the one paying you, and even if you risked quitting, who’d hire you knowing that you’d been so disgraced? Working for him in any position is prestigious… do you really want to throw it all away over a bit of harassment?

That’s what it starts as, anyway. Small, innocuous comments. Nothing explicit, but clearly some innuendos. You ignore it. Play dumb. You figure he’ll bore of you eventually.

He never does.

He invites you to eat with him, schedules more private meetings, promotes you, pays you extra. It’s sudden, overwhelming. He gets bolder. He buys you jewelry, putting it on your personally. The claws of his hand piece press into your skin uncomfortably when he places a firm hand on your lower back to lead you where he wants to. You might mention something, that this doesn’t feel professional. He’d just laugh. You live to serve, don’t you dear? Be quiet and serve.

He says it like a joke, but it unnerves you. You go out of your way to distance yourself from him. Luckily you’ve spent enough time with him to know his rough schedule. Guessing what days to make yourself scarce is risky, but worth it. You stop wearing his gifts, turn down additional pay. You’re hoping that things will just go back to the way they were. You didn’t think through your plan enough. He’d obviously corner you eventually. You’ve been avoiding him. He treats you so well, and this is how you repay him? Inconsiderate little brat. He should throw you out on the street. He won’t… if you do as he says. No complaints. The only thing he wants to hear from your mouth from now on is “Yes, sir.”

You don’t say anything, frozen under his stare. His hand snaps up to your face, fingers digging into your cheeks. That wasn’t rhetorical, dear. You murmur what he wants and he nods, slowly pulling his hand away. He pats you on the cheek condescendingly with a smile. Much better. Now, turn and bend over. You have a lot to make up for.

[ell-vellan]

Iron Bull banters that informed my opinion of him the most part 3 of 3 (at least until I have more thoughts)

Protector Bull

part1 part2

This is Bull's inner monologue after he saves Krem and loses an eye doing it. He immediately ignores his own injury, knowing there's nothing he can do now to save his vision, and focuses on what good he can do, which is reassuring Krem. Even with the fight and the injury, he's had enough wherewithal to notice details about Krem to specifically ask "what do you want me to call you?" instead of "what's your name?" He asked for Krem's preferred name with the suspicion that it might be different from his birth name.

Bull shuts down anyone asking about his private romantic life with the Inquisitor. He's so noncommittal he literally doesn't even open his mouth in his first reply to Varric. He doesn't do the same if he romances Dorian, and he freely discusses what he does with other people around Skyhold, and you can hear other people talking about it in ambient dialogue around Haven too. This is their specific dynamic that he's tailored for the Inquisitor and their needs - the Inquisitor being a highly scrutinized public figure with little privacy as it is, he takes pains to ensure it for them when it comes to their relationship. At least until Inquisitor specifically gives the okay.

Bull takes the hits meant for others. He's a tank, so that makes sense, but it's especially impactful when he does so for Cole, who is the embodiment of everything that's most terrifying for a Qunari, and the subject of Bull's literal childhood nightmares. He will let himself be in pain and sacrifice his own body before he lets someone he cares about come to harm.

Varric sees the truth of the choice Bull made if he becomes Tal-Vashoth. He chose to save his own little found family of misfits; he loves them so much he became Tal-Vashoth to keep them safe, losing the only things he's ever known: his home, his philosophy, and the purpose he was literally born and bred for.

Also, as previously stated in part 2, Bull's also deflecting any attempt for people to delve into his new identity. He won't acknowledge anyone saying he's free like it should be a happy thing because for him, it's more complicated than that.

In-game, Bull's voice goes thoughtful and surprisingly soft when he says "I guess I can see that." He's glad when Cole sees his friend's true self and I think it gratifies Bull that he's made a positive impact with Krem. Bull has treated Krem like a brother since day one, unquestioningly, and earned a lieutenant that so loyal he'd die for him. Since this is the end of this particular banter, it feels like Bull is struck sort of speechless or pensive as he sits with the "You make it better."

Also he loves Krem so much omg

[terramythos]

TAYLOR READS 2023: GUARDS! GUARDS! BY TERRY PRATCHETT

Title: Guards! Guards! (1989)

Author: Terry Pratchett

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Comedy, Mystery, Third-Person

Rating: 9/10

Date Began: 07/02/2023

Date Finished: 07/23/2023

Corruption is nothing new to the ancient city of Ankh-Morpork. But when a secret society desperate to seize power summons a dragon to terrorize the city, even its resident thieves, murderers, and hustlers seem at a loss to stop it.

The City Watch has long been a running joke with no real power to enforce the law. Nevertheless, Captain Vimes finds himself caught up in the mystery behind the dragon— but must overcome his own shortcomings to help save his city.

Ankh-Morpork! Brawling city of a hundred thousand souls! And, as the Patrician privately observed, ten times that number of actual people. The fresh rain glistened on the panorama of towers and rooftops, all unaware of the teeming, rancorous world it was dropping into. Luckier rain fell on upland sheep, or whispered gently over forests, or patterned somewhat incestuously into the sea. Rain that fell on Ankh-Morpork, though, was rain that was in trouble.

For live reading notes, check the reblogs (contains unmarked spoilers).

Content warnings and review (spoiler-free and spoiler versions) under the cut.

Content Warnings: Mentioned -- Fantasy!racism, homophobia, sexual harassment, genocide, torture, animal death, incest Depicted -- Death, alcoholism, sexual humor/innuendo (like, a lot), addiction, misogyny, drug use

**SPOILER-FREE REVIEW**

This is my first Discworld book. I read Good Omens many years ago, which was co-authored by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. But while I enjoyed that novel, I always wanted to read Pratchett’s solo works. I’ve heard universally positive things about Pratchett as a writer and Discworld in particular, so it’s been on my reading list for years. I finally decided to go for it, picked a random book based on fan recommendations, and dove into Guards! Guards!

… And I enjoyed it even more than I thought I would. I knew going in that Discworld is a comedic fantasy series, so I fully expected jokes and clever quips. One challenge with comedy is telling a funny joke without punching down or being overly mean-spirited, but Pratchett totally nails it. Guards! Guards! is hysterically funny. It’s impossible to list the best gags because there are so many good ones. However one of my favorite bits is toward the beginning, when a mysterious figure is trying to meet his secret society in the pouring rain, finds a shady looking door, answers the doorkeeper’s over-the-top esoteric passphrases, only to discover he’s at the WRONG secret society. The two have an ordinary exchange of pleasantries while the doorkeeper directs him to the right place. It’s great stuff. In general, I like that Guards! Guards! is a self-aware deconstruction of high fantasy, but it’s never over the top in its commentary.

But what pleasantly surprised me about the book was its ability to be genuinely funny yet treat serious topics with the gravity they deserve. Guards! Guards! has many philosophical observations about loneliness, poverty, human nature, and more. Pratchett has a knack for knowing when to be funny and when to step back and discuss things in a mature, honest way. I think the comedy makes the serious subject matter all the more poignant.

Captain Vimes is the protagonist, but there are many perspective characters, and they all feel distinct and interesting. I especially like Lady Ramkin, The Librarian (who’s a sapient orangutan— hell yeah), and what little we see of the Patrician. Death’s handful of appearances are all memorable and fantastic. Guards! Guards! starts as a small scale mystery that gradually expands to a city-wide conflict. Pratchett nails the pacing; the rising stakes are totally believable, and I never felt like the plot was boring or treading water. It is a satisfying and entertaining story from start to finish.

I loved the book and highly recommend it, but I do have some caveats and criticisms to keep in mind.

Guards! Guards! centers around Ankh-Morpork’s City Watch, who are essentially the police. However, I do not consider this work to be copaganda. The City Watch are comically underpowered and ineffectual; their low status is a major plot point and recurring joke throughout the novel. They have no means to do great harm or great good, nor do they have the funding or social status that modern police do. The four City Watch characters are also not portrayed in a universally heroic light. They’re petty, often selfish people who occasionally do the right thing (though Carrot might be an exception). I found myself rooting for protagonist Captain Vimes, but purely because of his personal struggles, not his job. In general the Discworld is so far removed from the socio-political structure and history of our world that the analogue between the Watch and modern police is surface level at best. That being said, I understand others may not be comfortable with this premise.

My primary criticism is, as with many fantasy novels, a lack of female characters. Lady Sybil Ramkin is an INCREDIBLE character; she’s funny, bald, physically imposing. unapologetically fat, and remarkably intelligent. She was a joy to read and definitely one of my favorite characters. I have little patience for obligatory love interest characters, but Ramkin stands on her own and is integral to the plot— Vimes just also has a crush on her, and the sexual tension between them is VERY funny. That being said, she is also the only notable female character in a large, male-dominated cast. One could argue there’s a second one, but that's very subjective and a spoiler (more on it in that section). I don’t think any book is beholden to an arbitrary checklist of representation, but is is a shame to see such an unbalanced cast.

**SPOILER REVIEW**

Guards! Guards! did have some genuinely surprising twists and turns. It took me a long time to figure out Lupine Wonse was the self-titled Supreme Grand Master. I knew it had to be someone we met in the story, but to me Wonse came across as nothing more than a competent yet underappreciated secretary. In retrospect it makes a lot of sense; the desire for power one might feel in that role, his extra characterization/connection to Vimes, his name being a play on “a wolf in sheep’s clothing”, and so on. But he had me fooled until the first “light reveal” before the story directly confirms he’s the culprit.

The dragon being female is a funny twist. It explains Errol the swamp dragon’s odd behavior. The story frames him as a hopeless underdog instinctively wanting to challenge a more powerful dragon for territory, so the reveal he’s really just looking to court her is hysterical. That being the resolution to the dragon problem is thematically sound. After all, Ankh-Morpork is not a city of heroes, so why would there be some heroic dragon slayer as alluded to throughout the story? The dragon is the second “major female character” I mentioned earlier. And she IS a character, especially when she and Wonse discuss the concept of human sacrifice late into the novel. But since we don’t even know her sex until the end of the story, I don’t think she really counts. As a side note, I do wonder if the dragon in Shrek took inspiration from this book…

One spoiler scene I REALLY enjoyed is Death infiltrating the secret society right before they get annihilated by the dragon. After all, Death wears a shadowy cowl, much like the Brethren, so no one suspects him. It’s delicious dramatic irony, because the reader can identify Death right away from his unique dialogue. But of course, none of the Brethren know this… until it’s too late.

Among the serious subjects discussed in the novel, the Patrician’s monologue at the end about human nature and evil hit me hard. He argues that the view of humans as good or evil is inherently flawed. Instead he calls all humans inherently evil in consistent, small ways: "Down there… are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any iniquity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness… They accept evil not because they say yes but because they don’t say no.” Guards! Guards! was published in 1989, but this is a very specific thing I’ve thought about for years, especially applied to modern US politics. I think about registered Republicans who happily vote for fascist monsters because they only care about gun rights, because the genocide of minority groups isn’t a dealbreaker to them. Whether it’s propaganda, apathy, ignorance, or some combination of the three that drives this decision, the result is the same. If one chooses to do nothing to prevent evil, are they themselves evil? I am inclined to say yes.

Vimes ultimately disagrees with him, instead arguing that people are just people with no specific morality inherent to them. This is supported by Vimes as a character; he’s not a shining paragon of humanity, but he ultimately chooses to do the right thing even in the face of certain death. I can understand this view as well. I agree that doing good things is an active choice one must make. My current perspective is a balance between both arguments. Inaction in the face of evil makes one evil by association. But the decision to do good, especially in difficult circumstances, can also make one good. I don’t think Guards! Guards! is going to resolve my own dilemma on the matter; it’s something I will continue to think about for a long time. But it’s not a subject I expected to find or seriously contemplate when I picked up this book.

Wow, that got a little heavy. Anyway, I really enjoyed Guards! Guards! and already have some other Discworld books lined up to read. Looking forward to more!

[yesterdayiwrote]

Hi Emma,

I’ve been trying to put this train of thoughts for down for quite some time, not sure if it will make any sense or not. But I wanted to put it out there in some form, because every single time a new chapter gets added up, the less the whole convo makes sense.

I get if you won’t want to publish this.

I have read a few of the latest anons and followed Lewis’ business and no-business ventures for quite some time now, mostly because I got across them on socials, and I ended up forming my own ideas on Lewis, but they are a bit controversial, so we will leave those out, for today.

From Lewis’ himself and people we can trust enough’ words (George’s as well), it’s kind of evident that Lewis (as many people in the show business have) has a private persona that is very much different to the one he quite carefully presents to the public.

Lewis’ name is a brand, and like many brands is worth millions, reason why there is lots of engineering behind the scenes about the events he shows up at, the sponsors and other brands that work with him and, mostly, the people that he associates himself with (in public).

His social medias have been wiped out in recent times (after he received his Title from the Royal Family) and rebuilt to present him in a certain way, a more private and watered down figure than what he’s been in his rebellious party years, if we want to put it that way.

His social medias nowadays are always constructed and filled with activism, business projects, positivity and sponsored events with others high end socialites or even political figures.

Yet there are some kind of discrepancies that sometimes slip through the cracks that kind of make little sense.

Lewis can do whatever he wants in his personal life, the non-public one, but considering how excessively careful he always is with his perceived reputation, there are things like the Antarctica trip that always catch you by surprise when they happen

It’s clear that Lewis has a wilder side and probably a rather controversial one, so certain kind of associations are not that unexpected of him.

It’s the way they are treated by his PR team and by himself that clash with whatever PR image of him they want to present us (the public) with.

Lewis has been associated or somehow involved (even romantically) with bigger or smaller names for the longest amount of time, so it frankly makes me wonder what is the gain in being associated with so many controversial people, when his PR facade is so well chiselled and preserved.

Of course he can like hanging out with said people, maybe he even likes dating them, but some of them (Juliana) are mostly product placements to generate publicity and clicks/views. So the question now would be, with all those kind of let’s call them IG ‘’models” that are available out there, why would they let Lewis associate with someone as controversial as her.

We can have the longest discussion about this, but how many times Lewis has been pictured officially out and about with her by his side, bar the two NY eve’s events? The point I am trying to make, here, is that you can find someone to scratch your itch without anyone knowing about it ever, there are certain professional figures who are tight lipped way lot more than an IG “model”’under an NDA will ever be.

His PR team and personal entourage certainly can provide one individual with this kind of service, so if Lewis or his entourage keep on associating with those kind of people (influencers, etc), and do the reverse of hiding it (if Lewis wanted to date Juliana in secret, he perfectly could, without anyone knowing a thing about it), pushing the story to the media… means they all have something to gain from it.

Now, with an IG “model”, linking your name with someone like Lewis’ would generate views and cash, but in Lewis’ case… he’d generate lot more rumour by associating with someone like Shakira, rather than Juliana.

So the gain doesn’t seem worth the risk of being spotted with someone as controversial as virtually unknown as her.

Might be overanalyzing, but there has been various instances of Lewis taking the casual L,l with medias, and not in his “romantic” life only. But with the carefully construced persona that he has, and the team around him, I wonder how some slips this big have occurred fairly often, you know.

Very confusing.

You make a lot of interesting points anon, and there's a lot to cover.

I think with anyone in the public eye you've got to remember there's two versions. There's very much the person, and then there's often the persona. There's Lewis Hamilton the human being, but there's also "Lewis Hamilton" the brand and the public figure. For some celebs they're indistinguishable from each other, for others there's a lot more distance between them. With Lewis, I think they're very interchangeable and he flows quite effortlessly between the two. Lewis loves and appreciates his privacy, but he also loves the attention when he chooses.

I think public personas operate a bit like Doctor Who regenerations, and we're on about our 3rd or 4th iteration of "Lewis". We started out with the young f1 rookie who was very serious but taking it all in and could do no wrong. Then we had the burgeoning celebrity phase. Gets a famous girlfriend, starts getting a bit confident, maybe a bit cocksure at times, but starts embracing the limelight and the attention. Then there was the obnoxious asshole phase. People can deny it happened all they want but... it absolutely did. Now we're into his 'reforming' phase. Mellowed out, more in control of his image, more socially aware, really trying to build that GOAT brand and fight back against some of the earlier criticisms of him. His growth stage.

I think people overlook the effect his relationship with Nicole may have had on him. He was very young and very new to the public eye and he was pushed into a very public relationship that I don't think was entirely healthy. It got very messy and I think he was definitely changed by it. He's never had a visible long term relationship since.

It's easy to view everything connected to Lewis through a PR lens and whilst I'm sure his PR people do monitor who he's seen with and who he associates with, they will undoubtedly have to balance that with indulging what Lewis wants to do. He's in the public eye, but he's still a person and a grown adult. They can't wrap him up in cotton wool and save him from himself and his bad choices at the expense of allowing him to be an individual. Its impossible to exist as a human who only ever makes the right choices and we shouldn't expect him to try.

Equally, I think people naively assume that Lewis is above playing PR games, but he absolutely does. When Lewis wants to be private, he manages it highly successfully. He's not stupid. He didn't tell anyone he was going to Africa, he didn't tell anyone about Antarctica, but he told everyone he was going to Brazil this winter break, even though its known to have a pretty effective gossip/paparazzi culture. He said he wanted a latina girlfriend... and who has he been linked to since? I kind of get the impression he's quite happy to be spotted here and with her for whatever reason.

I think people are overanalysing it slightly. She's young and stunning and she has previous with famous people so knows how to play the discretion game for his benefit and hers. Whether it's for real or for show, it works both ways for him. We all know about the problematic stuff because we've looked in to it, most people won't know and won't care, rightly or wrongly. As you say, she's largely unknown. She's only deemed controversial because it's Lewis and the more rabid corners of his fanbase view him as morally pure.

Lewis hangs out with a lot of problematic people and he really doesn't try and hide it. People have a habit of viewing him as entirely unproblematic on an almost Swift-esque level of delusion. Not every questionable thing is a PR misstep, he's capable of fucking up entirely on his own. He's quite clearly a Musk fanboy for example, and he's spoken of his love of him depressingly recently entirely off his own back and I think I personally probably judge him far more harshly for that than anything else right now.

I honestly don't see his public reputation slipping right now, if anything, I think he's probably getting less shit in the press these days than he ever has before, especially in the UK press, probably aided somewhat by the knighthood.

I think people are upset because she's not someone they personally approve of, and I do kind of understand that sentiment. It definitely sucks when you start to question the opinions you've formed about your fave, but that's kind of healthy? I mean genuinely, more people need to criticise and hate on their faves, not in a troll/hateful way, but it's definitely a good thing to take a step back from people you don't know once in a while and go "God, what a dick!". Definitely keeps the fandom a bit healthier! As they used to say "Your fave is problematic".

[lakehare]

I’m sorry but I think the idea of racism, transphobia, and bigotry and such not ‘belonging’ in pagan communities is such horse shit. I know that sounds off, but hear me out - because you may feel that way and hold those values, you may denounce fascists, but like… I know first hand my experience with progressive and leftist pagan and spiritual spaces have been anything but devoid of bigotry and microaggression, if not outright aggression, and I am not the only one. Spiritual and religious spaces in 2023 will claim to be progressive and leftist in one breath and with the same one say you are too sensitive.

They sleep in the middle - they follow political trend. I have rarely met a pagan or spiritual person who truly knows themself or their politics enough to not enact some sort of bigoted violence against me or my kin, whether out of ignorance or malice, and then be unwilling to learn better and insist upon your guilt because you dared point it out - no matter the manner you did it in. Firm or gentle - you are being aggressive. And I know I am not the only one with this experience. So saying “fascism / bigotry has no place” is great and all, but a bit of an empty statement, and I only wish to see MORE come from it. Perhaps a denounciation of the falsity of all of this, of the liberalism, an encouragement of self reflection and how you treat others. It’s why I gave up on a large scale, and fight the big fights quietly - I can change no one who doesn’t want to, and I don’t need to, nor is it my job nor my business. I don’t actually want or need people looking at me for guidance, as some authority figure. I don’t need people looking at me as the new herder for their political slogan to parrot without actually making meaningful change within themselves, the slogan this time being “fascism/bigotry has no space in pagan spaces”.

I don’t need centrist/liberal, puritanical, democrat neo-spiritualists parading and masquerading as the most progressive leftists on the market to help me boot fascism out when they are unwilling to stop sleeping in the same bed as them or attempt to change their own ways, or do anything helpful towards the communities they’re in or even towards their IRL communities.

(Disclaimer inb4 bad faith - sure, some pagans and neospiritualists get this and do try. But they are not who I’m talking about here).

Calling out fascists changes nothing about how people act. Changes nothing about transmisogynistic, racist, sexist microaggressions (which is what actually reminded me of my position on this topic - given that it’s NOT the first time I’ve said this before, that just saying uwu there’s no place for bigotry in MY paganism) if you want a good example of what I’m speaking of, the best connection I can give you, this post by my mutual can inform you of performativity in regards to community acts against transmisogyny while snubbing trans women (and doing nothing of value for them) & maybe give a little insight into what I mean.

It does not stop people from lugging their own religious and spiritual baggage into the space and spewing it around to all who will hear, and those are really the things that I think should be focused on, not public smack downs in order to laugh and giggle with your buddies about such a serious thing. Clowning privately is one thing, I think clowning to thousands in order to get praise for your wit and cunning is quite another.

You can only change your actions and show others how to act by how you act in these spaces - and of course, I do not know others nearly as well as I know myself. But I, as a younger person, did the whole righteous crusade against bigoted people, in order to feel like I was doing something significant. And YES. Fascism needs to be pushed out of pagan spaces! I agree, allowing them to get a foothold in any country in any manner but especially a wide scale is NOT acceptable.

But the way it seems virtue signaling to me, the way it seems to push yourself into a space of authority, and rankles me, as someone who realized the exact issues with what I was doing. It is quite an ego boost when people listen to what you have to say and get to defend your moral and ethical stances, yes? And I was on an even smaller scale than some of these (now) BNPs.

I’m not saying people have to do their good deeds quietly, that’s Christian bullshit. But the manner of which I see a lot of (now) Big Name Pagans do this ruffles my feathers in an unnerving way. I can’t quite articulate exactly the way this is unnerving and unnecessary and how there are other ways and middle grounds (at the moment - I took an anxiety pill last night and I’m surprised at my coherency here) that don’t involve the grand standing, but if the lines are read between in good faith I have hope that my point comes across clear.

[countrymusiclover]

28 - The New Stark Family

Part 29

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila

From the moment I had reunited Robb Grey Wind had always been following the heels of his loyal masters boots. 

The large direwolf was very protective of his owner and would defend him from anyone who dared to come at him.  He even used to be that way around me until very recently that is. 

Pushing the tent flap opened the fabric of my cloak blowing behind me and Grey Wind following my boots.  Peeking over my shoulder I eyed the large direwolf trying ever so hard to figure out why now he was being so protective over me.  It was not a common action from the wolf until very recently. 

Walking through the camp I finally met up with Walder Frey's girls that were now waking up this morning.  Antler was off talking strategy with my father and husband.  This gave Chezney the opportunity to avoid her, I suppose you would say ex.   I knew she never intended on ever seeing him again but the gods worked in mysterious ways to reunite them together here and now.  Except now she had harbored feelings for another, Jaime Lannisters little brother. 

The girls were exiting the tent all wearing their house colors when I had arrived to greet them.  They all curtsy but addressed me simply. “Good morning, Haelesa.” They all said in unison together with bright smiles on their faces. 

“Good morning, my ladies.  So how have the current lords been treating you recently?” I sent them the same genuine smile shifting my gaze between the couple of young girls in front of me and I always remember that I am the same age as they are. 

Merry shifts her gaze between her three sisters and then over to me.  She clasped her hands together in front of her lightly blushing. “One of the Northern lords son’s and I have more in common,  I rather quite enjoy his company.” 

“That’s great news. Anyone else have anything to share?” I asked, looking between the other three girls who hadn’t said a word yet. 

Giana shrugged her shoulders with a small noise slipping past her lips. “I had a connection with someone.  Sadly we will never be approved by society as husband and wife.” 

Merry gasped, touching her arm. “Who is it!” 

“I shouldn’t say.” Giana shakes her head no. 

Stepping towards her I take her hands into my own causing her to finally look me in the eye. “We can go somewhere more private if that would make you more comfortable, Giana.” 

“It isn’t a big deal, my lady.  I shall try to find a husband more suitable to my status.” She bites her lip. 

I snapped back at the young girl,  regretting that I had held my tongue back when it came to my marriage with Jaime.  I didn’t want these girls to think that they couldn’t have love even if the man wasn’t as high born as we were.  “Giana,  I swear that you can tell us anything.  We won’t judge you, right girls?” 

“He’s one of your family's Knights, my lady.” She muttered lightly under her breath. 

Knitting my brows together I knew many of the knights but a majority of them kept to the oaths they had sworn to him.  There was only a couple that I could recall that had slightly broken their vow in the past, but nonetheless I dared to ask, needing to be positively sure. “Who is the knight's name?” 

“Ser Antler, my lady.” Giana simply replied. 

My facial features lit up at the name knowing that if Giana and Antler had something between them they should be allowed to follow their desires.  His only problem was that he may still carry a torch for Chezney who had allowed her heart to belong to Tyrion.  “Antler. I - I must tell Chezney right away.  Ahh! Ohh.” Spinning around on my feet I went to alert my friend till I pressed a hand to my forehead stumbling back as I felt a very harsh headache. 

“Lady Haelesa.” Marianne sharply gasped rushing over to gasbag a hold of my forearm.  I also received the arm from Freya who was on my opposite side helping me regain my loss of balance. 

Giana and Merry shared the same concerned look.  “Are you ill?” 

“Just dizzy.  Um - help me back to my tent would you all please.” I closed my eyes trying to take easy steps forward and the four ladies around me went at an even slower pace to not jar my head around too much. 

It was hours later once I was settled underneath the furs on the bed inside my shared tent with Robb before I saw Chezney come to check up on me.  Grey Wind was laying with his nose pressed against the side of my stomach while I lazily ran my fingers through the fur on top of his head till we saw the flap get thrown open and his master rush in with Chezney right beside him.  “One of my knights just now informed me you were visited by the Maester hours ago.  What has made you ill, Hael?” 

“Robb, you don’t need to worry-“ 

He removed his fur cloak as quickly as he could, shoeing his direwolf off the bed so he could sit down beside me in his place. “I’m always going to worry.  You’re my Queen, my lady wife, my love.  Now what has made you ill so that I can find a way to fix it.” 

“I’m afraid this isn’t something that can be fixed for about six to seven months.” I bite my lip flashing him a playful smirk. 

Robb knits his brows together.  “Haelesa, are you saying you’re pregnant?” 

“Maybe.” I giggled, raising my right hand and twirling my fingers through his auburn curls. 

The young wolf lifted up the furs not seeing my stomach any bigger which he knew was an oblivious sign that his mother had when she was with child.  So he didn’t quite understand that it wouldn’t appear that way for some time.  “You don’t look to be with a child though.  How do you know then?” 

“Mem sure know how to make babies but boy is that where the knowledge stops.” I lowered my hand down to the side of his face, running my fingers over his bearded chin. “I missed my monthly bleeding and then I was dizzy this morning and then for the past couple of weeks I’ve gotten nauseous after you’ve already woken for the morning.  Do you need more proof than that?” 

“I’m gonna be an Aunt!” Chezney squealed, jumping up slightly in the air, pure joy across her face. 

Robb kept his gaze solely focused on shifting his body where he could gently grab my face in his hands. “You’re truly certain, Haelesa.  I’m - I’m going to be a father.” 

“Yes, my wolf.  You’ll have a little prince or princess in due time.  It shall for certain be yours this time.” 

Robb leaned forward pressing his lips down onto mine making me giggle against his lips.  “I love you.” He deepened the kiss after I threaded one of my hands into his messy curls. 

“I love you too, Robb.” I mumbled in between kisses wanting to simply be with my family and forget about the war around us for one night. 

[beauregardlionett]

you've walked a hundred times before - ch.4

AO3 Link

“I know she doesn’t look pleased about this,” Mar said with a tired chuckle. “But if you hold her like this a few times a day to stretch out those muscles, her temperament should start improving quickly. And once we start seeing some improvements in muscle length, we can work more on some strengthening.”

The mother of the baby currently in Mar’s arms nodded with an expression of great relief. “Thank you so much. The doctor was rushing during the appointment and didn’t explain any of this. I was so worried it was going to be more permanent or something.”

Mar pursed their lips and tried not to sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that happened. I can assure you that little Becca here will be okay. Torticollis is usually fairly easy to treat in little ones. I’ll go over some more things you can do at home between visits, too.”

Becca squirmed in Mar’s hold as they gently shushed her. Becca’s mother giggled and waved her fingers at the baby.

Mar spun in a careful circle while slightly bouncing Becca and continuing to hold her in a position that stretched her neck. Becca cooed with delight and Mar couldn’t help but grin, wide and pleased.

A knock on the half open door of the tiny pediatric gym drew Mar’s attention.

One of the front desk employees was standing in the doorframe, smiling at Becca’s adorable, chubby face.

“Everything okay Ryan?” Mar asked, walking over as they kept lightly bouncing Becca.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could steal you for a few minutes. We’ve got someone at the front that needs an intake appointment and we want your input before we put them on your schedule.”

Mar’s brow furrowed. “You mean the opening I have after this? Why would you need my input?”

Ryan ran a hand through his messy brown curls and sighed heavily. “It’s hard to explain but…” he glanced at Becca’s mother before dropping his voice into a whisper.

“It might be a sensitive case.”

Mar paused their bouncing, catching their lower lip between their teeth. It seemed they were always getting “sensitive” cases these days. First it had been Nightwing, then it was Red Hood last week, and then there were all the pediatric patients on their caseload right now that had less than stellar diagnoses. It had been a rough month, basically.

With a short sigh, Mar nodded. “Okay. Give me five minutes, I’ll be right there.”

Ryan nodded, tense, before leaving for the front desk.

Mar turned back to Becca’s mother and smiled pleasantly.

“I have to go up front for a few minutes. Let me show you how to hold her for this stretch so you can practice while I’m gone.”

Five minutes later, leaving Becca’s mother performing the necessary stretch, Mar stepped into the front office. Ryan was at his computer, typing rapidly at the keyboard, and the other front desk attendant, Basma, was on the phone at her computer. Mar tapped Ryan on the shoulder and he glanced up, eyes wide.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” Ryan scrambled to get up, snagging a piece of paper from the pile beside him and holding it out to Mar.

“This is the ‘script they gave us, and they’re sitting in the waiting room,” Ryan said, subtly gesturing to two figures sitting in the far corner. Mar glanced at the pair before looking down at the paper.

“This just says the kid needs PT after falling and breaking his arm. What’s the sensitive part of this?”

“Well, first off, the kid seems like he’s here against his will, so I’m worried it might be a mandatory report case. Second,” Ryan reached over the paper and pointed to the name printed in the top corner. The patient’s name was typed in short, bold letters - standard font for medical paperwork.

Timothy J. Drake.

Mar glanced back at Ryan, eyebrow raised. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Ryan gaped at Mar. “The…you know, the Drakes? One of the richest families in Gotham?”

“Okay?”

Ryan spluttered for a moment before whisper-shouting, “what the fuck would a Drake be doing here, of all places? They usually resort to private care, not a city funded hospital! And the person sitting next to him is certainly not a Drake, either! What if he’s been kidnapped?”

“A rich person’s son was kidnapped, broke his arm, and then the kidnapper not only took him to a doctor about it, but also followed up on said doctor’s recommendation for physical therapy? Ryan, I just want you to process the series of events you’re insinuating here. You understand how ridiculous that sounds, yeah?”

“Mar,” Ryan stressed, looking two seconds from pulling his hair out.

Mar sighed, heavy and long as they stared down at the ‘script again. They were beginning to regret not bringing Ginny and Shelley along today. But they had worked a long shift at pro bono the night before, and while Mar hadn’t taken today off, they gave the girls the day off as an apology.

“Fine,” Mar pushed the paper back to Ryan and turned to leave. “I’ll talk to them and see if they want the next appointment.”

Mar stepped into the waiting room and walked over to the pair in the corner. The elder of the two had a face mask on, covering the lower portion of his face. Mar guessed they could understand where Ryan’s caution came from.

“Hello,” Mar said pleasantly, smiling as they pulled a spare chair over in front of them. “My name is Mar, I’m a physical therapist here. My coworker told me you were interested in an evaluation.”

“Yes,” the elder of the two said at the same time the younger venomously said, “no.”

The skin around the elder’s eyes tightened as he turned to the younger, presumably Timothy, and said, “Tim, we talked about this.”

“No, you talked about it and I pretended to listen. I never agreed to this.”

“The doc said you need physical therapy if you want to stay strong and not fall behind in training. You really don’t have a choice here, kiddo.”

“Why not? It’s my arm. I don’t see why I have to be here when we have an entire gym at home.”

The elder made a frustrated noise and Mar decided to step in.

“If I may,” Mar said, leaning forward slightly. “There’s a lot we can do here to advise your recovery so you stay strong. If it works better with your schedule and preferences, we can arrange minimal appointments and give you plenty to work on at home, since it sounds like you have a good setup for doing so.”

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said bluntly.

“Tim!” The elder hissed, lightly whacking Tim’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude!”

“If you don’t want to be here,” Mar said, unfazed. “That’s fine. You don’t have to take the appointment, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

Tim glared at Mar as they stood up, pushing the chair back to its original position. The elder scrambled to his feet, pulling down his mask as he held out a hand.

“Wait, I’m sorry about him. I’m one of his guardians, Richard. Everyone calls me Dick, though.” Mar shook Dick’s outstretched hand. His smile was strained and stressed and something about the tight line of his lips and the set of his nose felt familiar to Mar.

“Tim’s a bit resistant to asking for help,” Dick explained, Tim making an indignant noise of protest behind him. “But I would really appreciate it if you could see him and help him out.”

“I understand,” Mar said with a nod. “But if he doesn’t want to be here, we can’t make him.”

“But he’s a minor,” Dick stressed, shoving his hands into his pockets as his smile disappeared. “Wouldn’t I be held responsible for neglecting his care if I didn’t bring him here?”

Mar softened, glancing back at Tim as he made a barely perceptible noise behind Dick. He was staring up at Dick’s back with an upset lilt to his mouth and a furrowed brow, no longer angry even if he sort of seemed that way. Mar was beginning to realize this very likely was not a mandatory report case, and simply a misunderstanding.

“Not at all,” Mar answered, tucking their hands into their scrub pockets. “It would be a different story if he was sitting there without a cast on that arm. It’s often recommended that people get physical therapy after breaking something, but not everyone does. And like I said, if Tim doesn’t want to, we can’t make him, even if he is a minor. At the end of the day, the choice is his. That being said…”

Mar stepped sideways around Dick to make eye contact with Tim, who had been staring at the back of Dick’s head until Mar moved. 

“In case the doctor you saw didn’t inform you, wearing a cast for a prolonged period of time to allow bone to heal properly is good. However, because of the immobilization, your muscles begin to atrophy and weaken due to disuse. On top of that, the range of motion in any joint that is immobilized also tends to decrease and become stiff. Physical therapy can help you regain strength and motion so you don’t have to figure it out on your own.”

“But I could figure it out on my own,” Tim insisted after a moment, lifting his chin stubbornly.

Mar nodded. “Probably. But do you want to?”

Tim blinked at Mar like he hadn’t considered that option before.

“Tim,” Dick said beside Mar, voice low and strained. “Please?”

He sounded very…familiar.

Mar observed the stoicism on Tim’s face for a long moment as he processed. Eventually, he shook his head slowly.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Mar said immediately. “I’m here Monday through Thursday every week, but this clinic is open every day except Sunday and works shortened hours on Saturday. You can either come in person to schedule or you can call the office number for anything you need.”

Tim nodded, pushing to his feet and holding his injured arm close to his center. “Thanks.”

Mar waved goodbye and went back to the gym to continue working with Becca.

Tim’s name and appointment were on Mar’s schedule for the following week by the next morning.

--

“Why do you keep rejecting the blind dates I try to set up for you?” Lydia whined as she trudged alongside Mar. The sidewalk was mostly empty as they turned the corner to head to the pro bono clinic. Ginny and Shelley trotted along happily in front of them, leashes jingling against their collars. “I’ve been working really hard to vet all these people for you!”

“Again, something I never asked you to do, Lyds.”

“Mar, c’mon,” Lydia said, dramatically dragging out the end of her words. “Just one date? I want to see you happy with someone!”

“Lydia, I’m perfectly fine as I am. I know you think you’re helping, but it’s really not appreciated.”

“They aren’t even blind dates when I show you what they look like before…you haven’t been mildly attracted to even one?”

“Lydia–”

“Just one more! Give me something to work with and I’ll just try one more time - please?”

“Lydia,” Mar said, firm and more than a little angry. “I get you want to help, but you aren’t. You didn’t even ask, and if you had, you would know the reason I’m rejecting all of your candidates is because they’re all men.”

Lydia’s steps faltered and she blinked, eyes wide. “Well, shit.”

Mar huffed, half a laugh and half an exasperated sigh. “I know you mean well, but seriously, cut it out.”

Lydia caught up to Mar and nudged their shoulder with her own. “I’m sorry…I should have asked. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Mar held open the door of the clinic building for Lydia as they sighed again. “I know.”

They entered the lobby, Mar reaching down to unclip the leashes from Ginny and Shelley as Lydia paused beside them.

“Are we expecting a new coworker?” Lydia murmured to Mar. They glanced up, first at Lydia and then to where she was looking. Through the window of the front desk, Mar could see a tall woman with bleach blonde hair pulled into a messy bun at the base of her neck. The lines of her cheekbones and jaw were sharp under the ugly fluorescent lights, but her slightly crooked nose and beaming, bright smile met that sharpness in the middle and softened everything about her. She had a dark gray leather jacket over a simple black shirt and matching black spacers in her ears. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mar whispered, voice hoarse.

Lydia’s gaze immediately zeroed in on them, a wicked grin pulling at her mouth.

“Shut up.”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” Lydia teased, making a beeline for the office door.

“Lydia!” Mar all but screeched. They signaled distractedly for Ginny and Shelley to follow as they sped after Lydia, face warm with embarrassment already. “Do not be a menace today, I’m begging.”

Mar slipped into the front office just after Lydia, the dogs bounding in after them, clearly thinking this was a game. The blonde newbie turned to grin at them all, green eyes bright and wide.

“Hi there!” Newbie said, taking a hand from one pocket to wave. She clearly was about to say something else before her gaze caught on the dogs. Newbie gasped and dropped into a squat, showing off the definition of her thighs against her jeans. Mar immediately felt lightheaded.

“Puppies!” Newbie said, her deeper voice lilting up in a coo. Ginny and Shelley weren’t on duty yet, so they eagerly trotted over to a clear source of love and attention without hesitation. Mar felt about ready to melt into the floor at the way Newbie was petting the dogs’ ears and making kissy faces at them.

“Nice to meet you,” Lydia piped up, looking smug beyond reason. “I’m Lydia, one of the therapists here. And this is Mar, another therapist and the owner of those puppies.”

Newbie looked up, smiling widely yet again. “Nice to meet you! I’m Nora, your new security guard.”

Mar blinked out of their stunned haze and frowned. “I didn’t know we were getting a security guard.”

Nora’s gaze shifted over to Mar and fuck, that was worse. Mar’s knees were definitely about to buckle under the weight of being looked at by Nora.

“I’m a volunteer,” Nora said, as if that explained anything. “My boss made it perfectly clear that since this is pro bono, security detail is pro bono, too. It wouldn’t really seem fair, otherwise.”

Mar glanced at Lydia and then at Fariha, who was sitting at her desk with a slightly strained smile this whole time. Neither of them said anything, so Mar took the plunge.

“Who is your boss?”

“Red Hood!” Nora said brightly, attention re-focused on petting the dogs begging for attention.

“Huh,” Mar said, suddenly remembering the moment on the sidewalk a little over a week ago. It was sweet, Mar supposed, that he cared enough to send them a security detail. “That’s nice.”

“Mar, Lydia,” Fariha piped up, that strained smile still in place. “Your first patients should be here in a few minutes, if you want to get logged in and prepared.”

“Right, yeah,” Lydia said, reaching over to snag Mar’s wrist. “Thanks, Fariha.”

Lydia dragged a stunned Mar from the office and toward the back room where they stored their laptops. As they ducked into the back, Lydia ran a hand down her face and sighed, weary and sharp.

“Well, that sucks.”

“Huh?” Mar said intelligently, still coming back to their senses. “What does?”

“I know you think she’s hot, so it sucks that she works with Red Hood.”

“What does that have to do with me thinking she’s hot?”

Lydia turned to face Mar, put her hands together and tipped her fingers in Mar’s direction. “I know you are currently rebooting that queer little brain of yours, so I’ll say it again. Nora works directly with Red Hood.”

“I fail to see why that should stop me.”

“Because you would be dating someone who has openly admitted to working with one of Gotham’s most notorious crime lords?” Lydia said incredulously.

“Hot,” Mar said, nodding sagely.

“Literally what is wrong with you.”

“Handsome lady,” Mar said with a shrug. “Look, if you think that’s going to stop me, that’s on you. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t seen her commit any crimes, nor have I seen Red Hood commit any crimes. I plead the fifth, et cetera.”

Lydia stared at Mar for a long few seconds before turning and thunking her head against a nearby storage shelf.

“I’ve been trying to set you up on blind dates for weeks, only to find out you’re not into men less than half an hour ago, and now you want to pursue a criminal. I can’t believe this.”

“Frankly,” Mar said, shrugging out of their jacket and hanging it up. They scooped up their laptop and paused by the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t see this coming sooner.” 

--

Mar hadn’t forgotten about Tim, but they were horrible with the passage of time and therefore had forgotten that Tim was coming in for his first appointment that day. They always checked their schedule for the day ahead of time to feel somewhat prepared, but Mar often got caught up in singular appointments and forgot things until they were staring Mar in the face. The way Tim and Dick were staring at Mar right now, for example.

Mar placed Tim’s chart down on the desk next to Basma’s computer and smiled pleasantly through the window at them.

“You can follow me,” Mar said. They had looked through the papers in Tim’s chart and felt grounded enough in the broad details of his case to get started. Mar had learned through exposure to this field that half the things on paper that weren’t post-op protocols meant little in the way treatment progressed. Patients reacted to things differently and healed at their own pace. The only information that would affect Tim’s treatment in those notes were weight bearing restrictions and range of motion considerations.

Once they were in the small pediatric treatment gym that Mar occupied mostly on their own, Mar sat on their rolling stool and faced the other two.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mar said. “I’ll re-introduce myself. I’m Mar, and I’ll be your physical therapist for this evaluation. I did look over your papers, but can you tell me a little about what happened?”

Tim sighed, running his fingers back and forth over his injured wrist. According to his papers, he had been freed from his cast a few days ago by his doctor. Even at a glance, Mar could see the mild atrophy between his arms.

“I was skateboarding with some friends when my wheel got caught on a loose piece of pavement or something. I caught myself when I landed but I misjudged how fast I was going, so I broke my arm.”

Mar nodded, typing a few things down in their notes as they asked, “is that your dominant hand?”

Tim shook his head no. Mar made a quick note in his chart.

“What things have you been struggling with while in your cast?” Tim gave them a look and Mar chuckled. “I know that’s a broad question, but give me two or three tasks that are most important to you that are made more challenging because of your injury. We can start with those and go from there.”

Tim glanced sideways at Dick, who smiled encouragingly in response.

“Skateboarding isn’t an issue, but sometimes I do gymnastics stuff with Dick, so that’s a challenge obviously. I also practice martial arts…” Tim paused and glanced at Dick again, chewing on his lower lip for a moment. “I guess those are the two most important things.”

Mar nodded and wrote both of those down in his chart. “I can’t say I’m overly familiar with the intricacies of those activities, but I know the basics and we can always work through things that are more challenging for you as we go. Anything you think of in future appointments can be added in, too. I know things work a little differently with other healthcare providers, but in physical therapy, your treatment is a conversation, not a unilateral decision.”

Tim blinked at Mar, then glanced at Dick, before staring at Mar again.

“Everything okay?” Mar asked, calm and polite.

“Yeah,” Tim said after a moment.

Mar nodded and decided not to push, figuring Tim could voice his thoughts when he wanted. “I’m going to take you through a few tests, first, just to get an idea of your baseline and starting point, and then we’ll go through a few things you can do at home before your next visit. Does all of that sound okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tim said with a shrug. “Are you going to ask me that after every new thing you tell me?”

Dick shot a look at Tim, but Mar spoke up before he could say anything.

“I usually do, to let patients know they can interject whenever they want, but if it bothers you, I can stop. But I want you to know that if I ask you to do something during these tests that you don’t want to do, all you have to do is tell me and we’ll stop.”

Tim nodded, looking skeptical.

Mar almost went to reiterate their point to him, but the look on his face stopped them. It would probably only annoy him. With that in mind, Mar kept a careful eye on Tim’s expression as they started running through strength and range tests. They usually monitored patient reactions anyway, but knowing Tim might try to muscle through, they were extra careful now.

And it seemed to be for good reason. As they were slowly applying pressure to test how far Tim’s wrist could move, they saw him wince and try to hide it. Mar immediately stopped and moved his wrist back into a neutral position, holding the appendage carefully.

“Why did you stop?” Tim asked, staring at Mar with his brow furrowed.

“Because the movement was hurting you.”

Tim opened his mouth, likely to argue, before Mar cut him off.

“I saw your reaction. It’s okay if you need a moment. Now I know where to stop the motion to take a measurement without hurting you this time.”

“What ever happened to no pain, no gain?” Tim asked, tone wry.

“That statement is grossly misunderstood,” Mar said with a heavy sigh. “It’s supposed to be about muscle soreness, about working only to the point of fatigue if you’re capable of it. Pain that causes discomfort and feels like something sharp, stabbing, burning, or anything like that is a warning signal. It isn’t meant to be dealt with and pushed through.”

“Oh,” Tim said, glancing down at where Mar still held his wrist.

“The amount of times I have to explain that to patients shouldn’t be surprising, and yet sometimes it is,” Mar said with a half-hearted chuckle. “But I digress. Are you okay if I move your wrist again?”

When Tim nodded, Mar continued with the evaluation. They finished running through the standard battery of examination items relatively quickly and without much issue. The problem came when Mar gave Tim a handheld device to test his grip strength. The difference between his two hands seemed to frustrate Tim, scowl spreading with each trial completed. At the last repetition, Tim’s fingers trembled around the device and he set it down on the table in front of him with a harsh clunk.

“Tim,” Dick said, half pained and half admonishing.

“It’s alright,” Mar spoke up quickly. Tim was digging his good thumb into the palm of his injured hand, glaring down at it and blinking rapidly. They reached over and removed the device from the table, setting it back in its box.

“Tim, why don’t you come with me? Let’s take a walk around the gym.”

Mar expected Tim to refute the offer, but after a moment, he shoved to his feet and swiftly ducked out of the pediatric gym. With a quick look at Dick and a hurried, “we’ll be right back,” Mar followed.

Tim was only a few steps from the door as Mar fell into step beside him. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring down at the floor as they walked the perimeter of the somewhat busy main gym floor. They made it two laps around before Mar spoke up.

“May I ask why you’re so frustrated?”

“Who said I was frustrated?” Tim shot back, sounding bitter. Mar didn’t deign that with a response and kept walking with him. After another few paces, Tim sighed and shifted the cross of his arms.

“I told you I do martial arts,” Tim said, slow and measured. “My preferred practice is with the bo staff and…all that test showed me was that I’m not strong enough to hold one. What if I can’t do it again?”

“You will be,” Mar said with ease.

“But what if I can’t?” Tim stressed, glaring more forcefully at the ground. “I have to be able to hold one again.”

Mar wasn’t sure why Tim was putting so much emphasis on something he had claimed was a hobby, but they also weren’t about to push that thread right now.

“Tim,” Mar said, firm but kind. “I know this is frustrating right now. I’ve not been in your shoes, but I’ve treated enough patients who have experienced this level of frustration that I can say I understand. You want to be able to do the things you used to, you want to feel yourself again, you’re scared of the changes to your autonomy. It is frustrating, and it can even be scary. But that is why I’m here, and it’s why you’re here. Muscles take several weeks to actually rebuild strength again, but it isn’t impossible. You just have to be patient, okay?”

Tim slowed his steps and Mar matched his pace, patient. Eventually, he looked up from the floor to study Mar.

“How many times have you given that spiel?”

Mar blinked at Tim and huffed a noise in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You said in the room that you’ve explained certain things to patients before, over and over again. So how many times have you given that speech?”

“I have said a lot of that before,” Mar admitted after another stunned moment. “But educating patients is a big part of my job, so I do tend to repeat myself. That doesn’t make anything I say less true or less important. It’s just…what I do.”

“Don’t you get tired of repeating yourself?”

“Nope,” Mar said immediately, smirking in the face of Tim’s disbelieving look. “I don’t. Everyone learns differently, and everyone deserves to understand what’s going on with their bodies and their treatment. I’d repeat myself at every appointment for a whole day if that’s what it took.”

“That sounds annoying,” Tim said.

“It’s not for everyone,” Mar admitted with a chuckle. They fell into silence as they kept walking. On their next lap, as they approached the door to the pediatric gym, Tim paused. 

“Ready to go back in?” Mar asked. “We’ve only got a little bit left.”

“Yeah,” Tim said.

The rest of the appointment went smoothly enough, Dick seeming remarkably relieved by Tim’s return and compliance. Mar talked them both through the impairments caused by the immobilization and printed out a sheet of exercises they compiled for Tim to work on at home. It was beyond easy to get Dick on board to monitor Tim and his progress so that he wouldn’t over do it between appointments. Mar took them both through a brief explanation and demonstration of each exercise and gave them their business card in case they had questions.

“Alright, I think that’s everything,” Mar said, standing from their stool. “I’ll walk the two of you out.”

“Thanks again,” Dick said, grinning broadly as they walked toward the main entrance. “I really appreciate everything you did.”

“My pleasure,” Mar said, meaning it. They glanced at Tim on the other side of Dick and smiled. “It was lovely meeting you both, and I hope the next appointment sees some improvement in that arm of yours.”

They reached the front door, Tim pausing to turn and look at Mar. He seemed to think for a moment before speaking.

“Thank you,” Tim said, voice low. “For understanding and being patient with me.”

“Of course,” Mar said with emphasis. “Reach out to me any time if you have questions or concerns.”

Mar waved to Dick and Tim as they left. They couldn’t help but recognize something in the set of Dick’s shoulders as the pair walked away from Mar.

[lizardrosen]

You Speak Like A Green Girl, Unsifted In Such Perilous Matters

Bridgertons performing Hamlet, part two, for @avocado-moon and @glintglimmergleam - this one's all about Ophelia (part one)

One difference Benedict notices right away between the warnings Laertes and Polonius give to Ophelia is that Laertes is looking after Ophelia’s heart and doesn’t think that Hamlet is just using her for fun only to abandon her later; while Polonius talks about “my daughter and your honor,” the implication being that she’s to naive to understand what she’s doing and anything she does will reflect badly on him. Laertes does warn her about gossip and how it’ll turn anything into a scandal no matter how innocent, but it’s not necessarily a moral judgment. He also has sympathy for Hamlet’s position, or at least understands that as a prince he can’t always carve for himself.

Out of this, Benedict creates a Laertes who wants his sister to make the most of life as long as she’s cautious and accepts that there are rules even when she chooses to skirt them. Maybe he waves an issue of Whistledown on “the chariest maid is prodigal enough” and Eloise stifles a snort. He also privately believes that Laertes speaks from personal experience about Hamlet, but he’s not about to try to get Anthony in on that backstory, not when he can’t even be sure Anthony believes Hamlet and Horatio are together. (Hyacinth does believe it, but she lets the language of firm handshakes and hearty slaps on the back and knowing nods speak for her, she doesn’t need it much more explicit than that)

Eloise asks Anthony what exactly is going on when Hamlet comes to Ophelia in her closet. “I see what the words are, of course, stockings fouled, downgyved to his ankles, he sighs and nods and leaves without a word, but that doesn’t really tell me what Ophelia’s describing, does it? How does he do all this and more importantly, why?” She interrupts herself almost as soon as she’s stopped talking. “Ah, no, the most important question, how much of this little charade did he plan from the start? What on earth is going through his mind, Anthony?”

He’s never really thought too hard about it, truth be told. He’s treated it as background information, just the first performance to set the scene for everyone to believe Hamlet has no idea what he’s doing so it can’t be anything worth paying attention to. Somehow, hearing the question phrased as what he had planned, a different answer comes to him and he knows it’s true — at least for this Hamlet and this Ophelia, at this time and place. A year from now he may answer differently; that’s how Hamlet is.

“He was going to tell her about his father’s ghost,” says Anthony. “He hasn’t even told Horatio yet, he’s just been driving himself half-mad trying to figure out what to do, and probably hasn’t changed his stockings for a few days, certainly hasn’t bothered to brush his hair — you’d know all about that, El, wouldn’t you?”

“Ha ha.” she says without humor.

“And then he thinks ‘Ophelia will think of something’ and goes looking for her right away. It’s too sensitive to trust with writing, with her father’s servants how they are — not that she’s been reading what he has to say — so it has to be in person and it has to be now, before he loses his nerve.”

“So did he tell her? It’ll change almost everything if she’s in on it with him and telling Polonius what he needs to believe. Or did he lose his nerve?”

“I wouldn’t say he lost his nerve, exactly, but he opened the door without knocking — sorry — and saw her sitting there just looking so normal. What do you suppose Ophelia was sewing anyway?”

“Not embroidering violets,” says Eloise emphatically. “That’s so obvious it’s practically trite. I think… adding pockets to all her dresses, big enough for a notebook or two.”

“Oh, naturally!” he laughs, because that’s such a perfectly Eloise answer. “He looks at Ophelia with her pockets, tongue sticking out like she always does when she’s concentrating, and it feels like they’re living in completely different worlds. He can’t drag her into the conspiracy he’s gotten caught up in, but he can’t go back to pretending he’s a part of her world either, so…”

“So what Ophelia describes to her father is a goodbye,” she says, thinking of that awful fight with Penelope, “And she might not even know it.”

“Right. It’s not what Hamlet expected either, or he would have been better prepared.” Anthony shakes away an image of himself knocking on the door of Siena’s latest gentleman with an armful of flowers. “But he’s there in front of her and he doesn’t get a do-over. He can’t even speak to give her an explanation, he just holds her hand and tries to memorize everything about that moment before he leaves it behind.”

“No wonder she’s so affrighted; a sigh with so much behind it must have felt like the world was ending. There’s good news, though,” Eloise adds with a wicked grin. “They get a do-over after all, it’s just forced on them by their awful parents and makes everything worse for both of them.”

“Hooray! No communication, only disaster!”

“By the by, I do intend to scream back at you in that scene, at least as much as you yell at me.”

“Yes, well, Hamlet deserves it,” he says with a small grin.

Almost anyone could play Reynaldo, the spy Polonius sends after Laertes in France, so the question becomes: who’s most likely to tattle on Benedict for something he might not even have done. Eloise would notice what he’s up to, but usually keeps it to herself unless it’s funnier to call him out at the worst time, and he keeps too many of her secrets for her to make something up to get him in trouble. Besides, Ophelia enters right after Rey exits, so Hyacinth gets to play Reynaldo instead.

Reynaldo is left out a lot of the time because he’s really the B-plot at most, or he’s combined with Osric because they both carry gossip in plot-relevant ways, which is a sensible enough double-casting. However, Rey also keeps an eye out for Laertes the way Horatio looks out for Ophelia after Polonius dies, so it’s a nice connection. She plays Voltemand, the ambassador to Norway, for similar reasons — an outsider wherever she goes, carrying news across borders.

Hyacinth’s Reynaldo is quiet and polite and refers to a little notebook with Polonius’s previous instructions, but after she’s firmly told her employer goodbye for the second time, she just walks away and stops paying attention as only a youngest sister can do, and then Polonius doesn’t notice Ophelia and her distress at first, but he does genuinely comfort her and keeps the lines about the different temperaments of youth and age.

[foster-the-world]

And we are off

My husband has the kids at a state nature preserve while I packed and cleaned up the house. All done and enjoying twenty glorious minutes alone on the couch. My Aunt/Uncle, cousin and their two friends are staying while we are gone. NYC rent is too expensive to leave this place empty. My Aunt is so excited. She's had a rough year so I'm glad she'll will get some fun in.

I cannot wait to be swimming at the hotel pool tmrw. For some reason I'm feeling confident about baby boy flying. The flight to California was a true disaster but I think we've figured it out now. Fingers crossed I'm not in denial.

My husband's boss is leaving. They immediately offered him the position. He doesn't really want to take it. Its a big pay raise but will be longer hours at work. He would still be able to leave the office at 5pm but would be up after the kids go to bed working. There is no part of me that feels like either of us have more hours to spare. Baby boy is really draining all of our energy and its still very unclear what supports he will need in the future. At the same time, it will be hard to turn down the extra pay. He is very lucky to get a full pension based on his three highest years pay (thank you govt work in a liberal state). He can retire at 57 - so its not money just for the next few years but for the next 30 + years. I mean this most likely won't be his last promotion but every step upward counts. If he passes away the pension passes to me. Current employees don't get these benefits - he got in right before they changed the rules. He's been there 20 years now. He/we will have the entire vacation to think about it. Nice either way that they offered it to him. He's also had this amazing boss forever. I'm warning him how miserable his life can get if he gets a bad boss.

Baby boys been behaving very well for the past two days. Maybe he's maturing?? Maybe he just has good and bad days?? He is so damn cute. Last night I told him I was taking the girls somewhere. He goes "Oh, okay. You go Japan???" HA! HA! No kid. The next trip to Japan you are coming.

The girls begged to have a pedicure before vacation. I took them last night. Said it was a treat for doing so well in school. Very cute/fun. Bee is so much more girly then I am.

Foster agency is sticking to making us be re-certified. I can't think about it until we are back. Of course, no one has given us an adoption date so no idea when we need to get the trainings over with. Such a massive waste of time.

Baby boys therapies need to be switched from Department of Health to Dept of Education now that he turned three. After a month of pestering, they sent me a list of over 200 evaluation places throughout the city. I called over 20. None have evaluation appts before October. I put us on all of the waiting lists. Will probably try to pay out of pocket for OT, PT, etc until he is adopted and he can go on our private insurance. Its unGodly expensive. Need to figure out what services will help him. A little lost honestly. Weight vests, weighted blankets, crash pads, sensory toys, brush techniques? Will these things help him?? Do we have room for those things (=No). Need to start videoing when he's really unregulated. One-on-one in an OT office is not going to show what we are talking about. Of course, the foster agency doesn't bother responding to my emails related to any of these services. The medical lady used to be the one consistently competent person at the agency. She moved on and of course the new person is useless.