#it reminds me of how strong he is‚ physically‚ emotionally‚ and mentally

[27demos]

scenerv → a-myg-da-la

[jmdbjk]

. . .

Just like Jimin rubbing his own head and being shook instantly, we will have many instances where we will be reminded of them... see a photo or a video, hear their voices or a song and instantly be shook that we won't be seeing Jimin and Jungkook much in the next 18 months.

Not gonna lie, it is rough for me to watch Jimin’s live. The level of vulnerability is just too much for me to handle. His uncertainty, his dismay, his level of discomfort and self-consciousness... humiliation(?) over the loss of his beautiful hair, I can't watch it yet. His own disbelief at looking at his own shaved head...

He is facing something unknown and unfamiliar. He's learned a lot over the past year diving into the appearances he had to do alone for his ambassadorships for Dior and Tiffany. I say "alone" but he wasn't alone, he had his manager and staff by his side.

He won't have them when he enters the military base.

I already said in a previous post that Jimin is disappointed that he must, once again, stop doing what he loves and do this instead. He’s just hitting his stride and he has a lot he wants to accomplish. All that, in addition to his habit of self-criticism and his anxiety issues, it is HUGE that he will have someone there who knows this about him and can help him redirect and calm down. He will beat himself up, put himself down and not allow himself to give himself credit for doing as well as he thinks he should. Jungkook will remind him that he's amazing and help him overcome all that noise in his head.

And keep in mind that Jungkook is a level of introvert that requires some amount of "alone time". This "alone time" is when this type of introvert “recharges” or “decompresses” in order to settle or center one’s self. We all see how different he is during group lives versus when he is alone. His introvert thrives by himself. The situation of being with strangers for such long periods is CHALLENGING! Without his fidget spinner lip rings, and again, staff and manager beside him facing something new by himself, he'll be ADHDing all over the place. Knowing that Jungkook has someone he is comfortable with, who understands this about him, is HUGE. He has a habit of tuning out, zoning out and withdrawing and Jimin can help him stay put in the moment.

Besides genuinely missing performing and his fans, it is no wonder that his frame of mind during his last live with us was downhearted.

This is not a situation where one needs the other more... it is a situation where they will both mutually benefit from having the other present.

These guys are not like us. These two have lived the past ten years in a world that is NOTHING like ours. They've grown up and matured living a life that we can't possibly know and understand. Jungkook has several $1000 bottles of whiskey chilling in his refrigerator that he mixes with Cloop soda water and drinks like its kool-aid through a straw. THEY ARE NOT LIKE US.

They've succeeded beyond all expectations, even their own, and had to deal with all the extreme ups and downs of all of that... and now they must put everything they know aside to step into a completely different world with the eyes of the world focused on them. The pressure to not fuck up has to be enormous. Everything they do is amplified. Its not fair, really.

Physically, they will have advantages over their younger fellow soldiers in that strenuous work is not unfamiliar to them, they are accustomed to pushing themselves and they know what it takes to master something that requires a lot of physicality. They are strong and athletic.

And now, emotionally and mentally, they will be fine because they will have each other.

I will miss all of them and be so very excited to count down the days to Jin's discharge... but I will be the most bereft waiting for Jimin and Jungkook.

[probablyhuntersmom]

Therapist Analysis of Hunter's Mental Health in For the Future

Ok, getting down to business and writing this meta at last..(delayed thanks to physical health issues that manifested)..

Throughout most of the ep, leading up to the climactic scenes, we see a new kind of manner in which Hunter is responding to psychological pain, drastically different from what we got used to seeing:

I don't think we've seen him this irritable ever before. There is 99% no recoiling, retreating or shrinking back in his body language except here:

Instead, we see him marching forward, almost like how an animal makes itself look bigger to scare others off, with a singled-minded laser-like focus. But he is in deep anguish.

In addition, he maintains physical distance, unlike his usual self who would want to check on everyone and make a physical effort to feel like he is part of the group. His own mind is more than enough of a rollercoaster to handle in the wake of bereavement, which is why he's keeping the others at arm's length to not be overwhelmed:

(..sorry, I miss the chicken onesie and obviously want to upload 30 pics of him in this post too lol)

The fear of Belos himself, has become more like a fear of feeling the emotional pain caused by Belos, if that makes sense. Stopping Belos is all that matters to him now because his new greatest fear is the pain of bereavement related to losing Flapjack, and that it would be in vain.

It's a crazy massive shift in what he's most afraid of.

He has a strong sense of urgency but it's a world away from how he wanted his thoughts to be as far away from Belos as possible, back in Labyrinth Runners. Instead, Belos is now occupying pretty much every thought he has:

and jfc, I felt so sad seeing this shift: because it reminded me how trauma and its aftermath can take you further away from your real self, in more than one way or direction.

Instead of being numb (a necessity for his mind to protect itself and for him to survive, while he hid from the Emperor's Coven search party back then), it's more a rawness that's present in his emotions in this episode.

Different kinds of pain/fear require different means to be suppressed or numbed out.

He won't allow himself to go to that place of being directly in touch with that raw pain, or else he cannot accomplish the goal of stopping Belos. Anger is after all a secondary emotion, usually protecting emotions like sadness. Clients often choose to come to therapy once they sense they need guidance to go to this painful emotional place, if they can't do it on their own. It's having to remove the band-aid, see what's there (which can be scary and quite unpleasant) and clean out the wound with care.

Hunter needs to maintain this armored state of mind in order to not fall apart (he already did this to a lesser extent when he cried right after Flapjack faded away: that wasn't a long cry, and he didn't even sob), and to subconsciously minimize the chance of going through what's called emotional flooding. He gets close at times to being overwhelmed by flooding, but never gets totally reeled into it, unlike the scenes where he darted out of Eda's house (Hollow Mind) or became trapped and curled up in the first panic attack he had in Labyrinth Runners.

If you notice, him shielding himself psychologically in For the Future like this means he automatically resists moments of emotionally connecting with anyone, subconsciously seeing this as a threat. A very notable example of this can be seen in how he reacts to Clover and Emmi here:

Because emotional connection with any of his loved ones might make him unprepared for a face-off with Belos that could happen literally any second. These quick mental calculations could all be happening in his head subconsciously, while he is reacting and being on edge like this, with a lot of adrenaline putting him in this mode.

However, it's important to note that he isn't completely consumed by this grief response, and his heart was definitely not completely hardened, because other familiar sides of him can be observed e.g. looking out for others:

He makes an effort to be as patient as he can, giving Luz and the others quite a bit of space to lead, though he can't hide the rawness from appearing on his face. It's telling how he has never been an aggressive, pushy personality, and he only veered in that direction in S2A out of fear that he would not please Belos (there was the risk of him literally being cast out and abandoned by his former 'caregiver').

Below is the part of the ep where the tone shifts, after the others call attention to his emotional needs (having love expressed to him, being noticed, etc):

and it's the part of him that we already knew existed, the deepest part that wants someone to reach out and connect with him:

It's a core part that never vanished:

but was just buried down beneath his anguish.

I believe he no longer put up resistance using his emotional armor because he realized deep down that this need to receive love/care was just as important as getting justice for Flapjack, if not more. His support network was going to help him get justice and he had to lean into that and trust in that. He must've realized that both those needs for love and justice are not mutually exclusive.

Anyhow..after Willow, Gus and Luz reach out to him lovingly, while Amity and Camila are also giving him their quiet attention, we can already observe his expression softening. When Willow and Gus leave the room, he runs out of the room after them, calling out their names:

and this easily segways into his heart softening, and the walls beginning to come down in a healthy environment (the trusted good company of his friends):

These were such good signs that not only was he thawing out: he could also begin to hold (and express) multiple emotions at once, instead of letting only one of them (the raw hardened anger) hijack his mental state. He could hold the raw grief, feeling love for Willow and Gus, yet still maintaining the desire to go after Belos which is a mix of fear and anger. His emotions weren't so rigidly all-or-nothing as a result.

I'd like to also note that he likely felt safe enough to express his tears after Willow revealed how she felt about herself. It strongly aligned with his values to minister to her pain: and while he did that, some of his own anguish could be healthily expressed instead of stuffed down in the dark where it would be feared.

Interestingly I find that scene similar to one case I handled whereby my client took a long time to dare to speak about her own pain, which could only happen after we spent a few sessions discussing fictional characters that she resonated with. Other clients do this by preferring metaphors rather than directly referencing themselves, what happened to them, and their pain.

References outside of the client themselves, that have similar enough struggles to the client's own struggles, can provide the safety of detachment and distance for the client to explore their own issues. This detachment is a gap that a therapist should work on closing over time, at a pace that the client is comfy with, until the client feels safe to reference themselves and experience their own darkness without getting overwhelmed.

Basically, Hunter connecting with Willow's pain could've been what allowed him to feel the scary emotions that he'd been avoiding in all the scenes prior to Willow showing him the photo of him and Flapjack. Feeling any form of love would also mean feeling grief he was carrying.

Sometimes in trauma, our emotions and cognitions flip like a switch quickly in a black-and-white sort of fashion, which may be useful if things are life-or-death, but may cause issues once any real dangers have passed (though if S3 hadn't been shortened, I wonder how differently this part of his arc would've played out).

What's interesting is we never quite see any contending or an active struggle between 1. the part of him that wants (and rightfully needs) to receive love/care, and 2. the angry part of him that wants justice, that wants to track down Belos so badly after the loss of Flapjack. It's more like one eased into the other, and I believe both parts can coexist, and it's a balance that he should be able to strike while remaining stable in the next episode. Balance like that is an indication of improved mental health: being able to hold multiple emotions in your mind at once and remaining relatively calm, instead of one or maybe two difficult and unpleasant emotions hijacking everything.

It makes sense that the group gave him his space throughout most of the ep, instinctively sensing that they should be nearby in case he asked for support, but not being too close because he would be in more undesired and unnecessary pain. E.g. if Camila had asked him what he asked Willow ("Willow, hold on. How are you feeling?"), early on in the ep, he probably would've brushed it off by minimizing his pain with a "I'm fine", to politely decline anything she'd do to extend support and care. Maybe he wouldn't have been ready. Only once he saw Willow in a lot of her own anguish did he feel ready to truly connect.

It's a big contrast..how afraid he was back then about the others finding out he's a grimwalker:

versus his response when Gus brings it up at last.

Hunter is so tired by this point, too preoccupied with the major life change he's experiencing, that he doesn't even look fazed. It helped that Willow had just told him "you're one of us now".

Plus I strongly believe there was already underlying healing that made him capable to handling the grimwalker reveal and any ambush by Belos. One indication is this body language comparison here:

where the 2nd one shows that he still leans forward, instead of pulling back like in the first one.

By the end of For the Future, more emotional balance has been restored in him, and it began when Willow took the risk to show him the old flyer derby photo and use it as a conversation starter.

That's a wrap for today's episode of Holy Titan I Love This Kid So Much That I Might Die.

[beauty-in-negative-spaces]

Sparda boys Vs. A crush

I saw a few other people do this so I figured I'd give my two cents. I'm hoping to write more often so if there's something you'd wanna see my requests are open :)

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

Dante

While Dante has the reputation of a player, when he starts to fall he falls hard.

It'll start out innocent enough, he thinks about them a lot, will often worry about them when they're away, typical golden retriever man stuff.

He'll always bring them up in conversation or, when talking to them, will bring up him thinking about them.

"Last night I saw this movie, the lead totally reminded me of you-"

Dante will take every chance he can to flirt with them.

Even if they're just passing by he has to tell them how much he likes the outfit they're wearing or the way they did their hair.

When Lady and Trish tease him for being so infatuated he'll deny it vehemently.

"We're just friends, I talk to everyone like that!" "Uh huh, you totally tell everyone they look sexy eating pizza Dante."

Has no idea how down bad he is until one night he's cranking one out and their image pops into his head.

One thing's for sure, the post nut clarity is a bitch slap of truth this time.

Vergil

Unlike Dante, Vergil is a much harder nut to crack (hah)

He catches himself falling hard and fast before he can show it externally

He'll immediately emotionally withdraw himself once he realizes how he feels. Of course he cares about them, that's why he has to keep them away.

Although he emotionally distanced himself, he can't physically stay away from them.

This only worsens his internal struggle, and soon enough he'll start making excuses in his head to justify staying around them.

"If I don't flirt with them then there's no harm done, talking about books over tea never hurt anyone" "I don't care about them anymore, they'll only get hurt, but it'll hurt them too if I skip lunch with them tomorrow."

This continues until he reaches his final conclusion, "I can be strong enough to protect them this time."

From that point on he'll take the secret admirer route, leaving small gifts and notes, mostly poems, for them to find.

Vergil will take note of things they tell him to add in later. They mention their favorite candy? You bet they're gonna find a small package with a hand written note later that night.

Nero

It's really not too hard to tell when Nero has a crush.

While he's considered the most level headed of the three, he's also the one who can't seem to find his footing when he's down bad.

He'll become a blushy mess whenever they're around. (Nico likes to tease him about how his ears turn red)

He's so desperate to win them over he'll take advice from anyone, even Dante (big mistake).

Bad pickup line after bad pickup line, he tries his best.

He'll try to get as close to them as possible, mentally noting down every detail about them and their life.

He'll try to go the same route as Vergil but will soon get impatient (both with coming up with good notes and how long it's taking)

After a while he finds it easiest to just be honest about how he feels.

[mguvmii]

Oh, oh, you write Death Note? Can I have Light with a S/O who was emotionally and psychologically abused by their parents headcanons? And if possible, how he would comfort the reader?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ00. 𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

🔔 summary ;; how light would comfort his emotionally and psychologically abused s/o. Just headcanons and not an actual one shot.

🔔 note ;; I'm using pre-death note Light. This is because when he had the death note, he was so obsessed and his god complex made him incapable of loving anyone but himself. Hope you enjoy! (update; death note Light has been added!)

🔔 cw ;; [ GN!reader ] [ abuse ] [ mental illness ] [ Light comforting his S/O ] [ Pre-death note Light ]

🔔 tags ;; leave a comment to be tagged in my death note works!

It's canon that Light is the most observant person ever. I mean , he's a straight A perfect student and highly intelligent so it would make sense that he was painfully aware of everything.

That being said , he'd probably come to the conclusion on his own that you're being hurt by your parents.

Not physically of course, but Light notices the little signs.

He doesn't know what's going on, but he would encourage you to tell him if anything is going on.

No, he wouldn't push it to the point where you distance yourself completely, but he reminds you that you can trust him with anything.

He also reminds you of how much he cares about you. As his S/O, he wants to make sure you're okay and know that you can rely on him.

So you tell him. You tell him about how your parents weren't necessarily physically abusive, but that they were fucking you up emotionally and psychologically. You tell him everything.

Now , though Light is very intelligent and observant, there's really not much he can do in this situation but comfort you. Usually it's the small things he does.

If it's a really bad day, he wouldn't mind holding you in his arms to let you cry it out. He'd offer words of reassurance and affirmations. Constantly reminds you that you're worth something.

His love language I feel is acts of service tbh. He'll comfort you by making something that you like , cuddle you if needed , read to you, anything that he thinks can help.

You know that you can rely on him and trust him. He comforts you the best he can and it's enough for you. He's a pretty good boyfriend.

Just know that his home is open to you anytime you want to get away from your parents. He encourages separation.

ㅤㅤㅤBonus :

If Light was your S/O during the time he has the death note:

I'd say it wouldn't be love? Well, just a tiny bit , but more so he's obsessed with you. He latches onto you like a leech and convinces himself that you're the only good thing in this world. I'd confidently say that, with his god complex going strong and his mental instability, he's a yandere.

If you tell him what's going on, he'll just kill them off with no second thought in the most painful way possible and he enjoys it.

I feel like he'd comfort you similar to pre-death-note Light , but less affirmations and more of just persuasive and words of encouragement.

uses phrases like 'you're safe now.' 'you can always trust me' 'I want you to be happy with me.' 'y'know I'd kill anyone for you because I love you' In a way , it's kind of manipulation and stuff, anything to get you to stay. Of course, he does genuinely want to comfort you with that little bit of humanity he has left.

But yeah , he'll comfort you in the way you want , but you're not leaving him. Never.

[rreskk]

I’ve made a deep analyse of Trevor’s character and how Steven Ogg portrays him.

The first thing we are introduced to when it comes to his demeanour is how feral he is, mentally and physically in appearance. The first mission he is in, we are able to see not even his most extreme behaviour. Rockstar has made a great job at presenting Trevor slowly throughout the gameplay, we get to know him more through dialogue and his impact on the story mode. We are introduced to a dirty looking drug addict who takes pleasure in killing, but we are slowly introduced to a weak man who hides under the influence of violence and drugs to fill the void of his self-hatred and misery.

Another thing I’ve noticed about him throughout the story mode, he is extremely loyal. Unlike Michael who’d refer Trevor as an ‘old friend’, we can see from Trevor’s side that he refers Michael as his ‘best friend’. I don’t know about you, but I really pity him at this stage. He’s really in favour of Michael and despite how fast and willing he is to kill people, he refrains himself by doing any physical harm to Michael, or any of his friends, no matter how much they can screw him up. Trevor is definitely undermined by Michael, almost mocked. It reminds me of high school friend groups where you have the clear leader (Michael) and the person who just follows you around and is the source of entertainment, but humiliatingly (Trevor).

This could link to how he was treated in the past. His mother was clearly abusive, mentally, towards him, and we can see the effects it has on the character more into the gameplay. Trevor is prone to gaining a strong attachment to certain people and things, and we know he has a deep fear of losing it. He even states it himself during a mission with Michael. I don’t know at the top of my head but it goes along the lines of: Michael: “What’s wrong with you?” Trevor: “Oh, some abandonment issues.” If you’d link this to the point I made before about his loyalty, he is too blinded by Michael’s lack of interest in him personally to walk away. Trevor is attached to Michael, and is obviously scared of losing him again after his ‘death’.

Although his mother was abusive, we can see his take on older women and his major interest in them. Patricia really pulled a great impression on him, like a motherly figure, that he confuses that with romantic love. Trevor craves female presence as it fills the void of having such an absent and broken mother. He is deeply offended if anyone mentions his mother, even if it’s a small detail in the subject. He is still wounded by his past and deals with it through older validation, drugs, and obvious anger issues.

If we look at how his father affected him emotionally, we can view this by how he perceives men. Any man in GTA, we can see Trevor treat them rather hideously. That could be dehumanisation, physical abuse, or mental abuse. Floyd is the best to explain this. While Floyd is rather sensitive and weak, Trevor picks on him constantly and he dominates other men to fill the void of his father who physically dominated and abused him. His unhealthy mechanisms grows in his criminality and he turns into a heavy drug user, serial killer, and thief.

Though Trevor mentioned he dropped out of school in his adolescence, he has advanced vocabulary and even stated by Wade that he is an expert in numbers. Although Trevor isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, he is intelligent enough to gather some advanced vocabulary that you couldn’t imagine an unstable man like him to think or produce such words. His heists all seem to be successful despite lack of planning and detail, and he incredibly observant. The first time he met Davey personally, he recognised him, even though Trevor never actually saw him before. His instinct told him that he met Davey before, being of course correct as Dave was the sniper who shot Brad, mistakenly, in the prologue. It’s clearly impossible for him to realise completely, but the intelligence he has to simply trust his instinct is impressive and mind blowing.

His desire and lust of sex and the need of sexual tension would suggest how unloved he was during his early life. It is common for people who had lack of motherly attention would grow in need of sexual pleasure, and would often find it in women, presumably older women. Trevor mentioned how he masturbates to relief his emotions, implying how isolated he is to be finding the need of touch every day. During moments where you can play Trevor and pick up prostitutes, when focussing on the activity, he’d end up moaning out love confessions and would sometimes go: “Oh, mother!”

I think Steven had done a fantastic job in portraying Trevor due to his detail in voice, gestures, and manic looks. Steven can produce such a strong tone of voice when yelling, making Trevor intimidating and mental. His effort in giving Trevor the signature gesture of his hands when explaining, presenting how unstable and feral he is, even when he’s talking normally. No one else could produce such a character and I’m thankful Steven created such a unique person.

In conclusion, he is literally a sad old man.

[cinnamon-todd]

Good Looking Boy - Jason Todd x Reader

yeaaaaaaa i should be sleeping but this song has been stuck in my head

My good looking boy My good looking boy My good looking boy Oh, my good looking boy

your hands rummage through his dark locks naturally as if it was your only purpose in life. he lays sprawled on the couch with his head laying on your lap. music plays softly as you two enjoy the presence of just each other. no communication besides your touch that sends shivers down his spine each time. the shivers are a reminder that he is still alive. you made him feel alive.

his body, in your eyes, is proudly decorated with scars and marks representing the battles and fights he's won. you can't seem to register why he hated them so much, or more truthfully why he hated himself so much. in your eyes, he was the most handsome man in the world. someone who has gone through hell and back (quite literally). these etchings on his skin only prove to you how strong he really is, mentally, physically, emotionally...

The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all I thought I'd uncovered your secrets but, turns out, there's more You adored me before Oh, my good looking boy

there were nights when he was out patrolling and fighting crime, where he wouldn't be able to call you or contact you due to his phone going missing or just being caught in a trap by some meek villain. nights of you worrying if he was okay then turning into nights of you feeling abandoned and unloved. but once Jason comes back he always reassured you of your worth. it usually starts off with yelling and crying about how you felt, to laughing and smiling about why he couldn't contact you. "I swear babe, I was so close to pressing send then some midget kicks it out of my hand, sending it 1000 feet down to the ground" you laugh as he reenacts the scene. "well Mr Todd, you're lucky you're funny."

My good looking boy My good looking boy My good looking boy Oh, my good looking boy

caught in a haze, think about each other in your younger days, jason looks up to you as you mindlessly play with his hair. "whatcha thinking about?" he asks smiling as you look down.

"just... how long we've been together, what we've gone through.." you say with a small grin. you remove your hand from his hair which it meant with a childish groan from your lover. you caress his cheek lightly with your ring finger, "I love you, my good-looking boy".

as much as he doesn't want to admit it, his deep insecurities seem to fight the urge, but he smiles, he cant help but have a glee grin as the words come out of your beautiful lips. you don't expect a reply or a reaction to your comment but you are happy to see him finally accept it.

he lifts himself off your lap as you give him a quizzical look, he only smiles harder. in a swift motion, he cups your rosy cheeks and gently connects the dots between his lips and yours. they just fit perfectly.

"i love you too, princess"

[halliescomut]

And we're back for more of me begging you to watch Our Dining Table

So...I'm just gonna brain dump into this post some of the things I liked about this episode/the show. It's definitely going to have spoilers, BUT YOU SHOULD ALREADY BE WATCHING!!!

Before we get to spoilers though, I just HAVE to share these Behind the Scenes gifs, of the the Minoru and Yutaka actors being so precious with the actor who plays Tane.

First, Papa is just wonderful this episode (Tane & Minoru's dad, I don't know that he's been named in the show, and I'm too lazy to look at mydramalist to find out. I'm just gonna call him Papa). He's been great the whole show, of course, but this episode where we get a little more history of Minoru, I really have enjoyed his interactions with him. In previous episodes where he very clearly can see that Minoru has special feelings for Yutaka, he's been a great and silent wingman, giving them space and alone time. In this ep, with the 'fallout' from the confession, we see him still giving space to Minoru, but not just letting him off the hook, which I think is important. He's recognizing that Minoru is a grown man, he's able to do as he pleases, but also making a point to be available for Minoru. I also think, based on the expansion of Minoru's history, that he's recognized that Minoru needs space to work through things, and he's trying to enable that. And that could be because he found himself grieving in a similar way, or because he recognized it when watching Minoru deal with his grief while also having to be there physically, mentally, and emotionally for Tane. Overall their relationship, while not frequently conversational, is clearly strong and likely only strengthened by the grief they've had to work through from different perspectives.

On a related note, Minoru's boss at the ramen shop is excellent. He's given solid advice this whole time, and appears to very much be an all around decent guy.

One aspect of the show I really like, is how they've been working the pasts of Minoru and Yutaka into the present. How they use flashbacks, and how those expand on what we're seeing present day. The flashbacks to Minoru and Tane's mom are instrumental in how we perceive Minoru and how we read his behavior, especially with Tane. And clearly, the flashbacks to Yutaka past and how his interactions with his adoptive family, as well as the loss of his biological parents so young, have had a very strong effect on who he is now. But seeing the sort of missed connection moment of Minoru, Yutaka, and Tane soon after Minoru and Tane's mother died was honestly an inspired piece of storytelling to me. A lot of us are watching this show as older people (I'm in my 30's). Maybe we have children, maybe we don't but we're for the most part adults, and the interactions from all of the adults with Tane, do a lot to tell us about the type of people they are. That's something that's honestly kind of true in general. It's as the saying goes- "You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat someone who can offer them nothing."

And watching this scene with the tantrum and Minoru's reaction, Tane of course is my first concern, because he's a child. I recognize that in that moment Minoru is acting the way he is because he's still pretty deep in his grief, but he's also the adult in that situation, and his handling of it isn't perfect. But, no parent is perfect, which makes the situation even more relatable. But also, the point or lesson that I get from the scene, is that Minoru sees Yutaka approach Tane and treat him with such kindness and care, and it is the boost/reminder that he needs to be doing the same. This stranger who knows nothing about Tane or their situation, took the time to be kind, and as Tane's brother, someone who knows him and loves him dearly, he should be striving to do the same. And part of me wonders if that moment, beyond being the first encounter with Yutaka, may have also been the turning point for Minoru becoming the type of parental figure he is for Tane in the present. We see clearly in the show that Minoru very purposefully treats Tane much the same way we see Minoru's mother treating him in the flashbacks. There's some difference, but the baseline of how they interact is remarkably similar. And it just seems to me that this barely two minute interaction is part of the catalyst.

Now, one thing I'm interested in, and this may be clearer in the manga, is if Minoru is out in any form prior to the start of the show essentially. Because we see the girl who's interested in him, but he has no interest in her, and I'd imagine if he was publicly out, she wouldn't have that delusion. But Papa doesn't seem to question Minoru's interest in Yutaka, but is it because he's just suspected, or because Minoru has come out to him? I don't know. And knowledge of the answer wouldn't likely change much in my perception of Minoru, I'm just curious.

My last point...does anyone else get the vibe that Yutaka is Aro? His reaction this week to the confession was very much "people don't feel this way about me??" And this of course can be directly attributed to his trauma from his adoptive parents, and the loss of his biological parents, he doesn't see himself as loveable, so the whole idea put his brain in error mode. But beyond that, I just get the idea that the confession itself makes Yutaka look at his own feelings, and he's almost surprised at the effect that Minoru has on him. As someone with direct experience...lack of data when trying to work out your sexuality (meaning never really having feelings like you see in movies or described in books for ANYONE) makes it remarkably difficult to determine overall. So it just seems very realistic to me that Yutaka being aromantic, wouldn't have ever really encountered a situation like this, and so he really has no idea how to handle it. It's this new knowledge that he may have romantic feelings for Minoru AND the fact that these feelings are for a man. It just feels intentionally like much more than the trope of 'I'm not gay, but I'm gay for you' that we see in a lot of East Asian BL. (I am aware that trope exists for a reason, mainly to help get around censorship issues.) In terms of the story overall, I don't know that it particularly matters whether Yutaka is Ace, but more representation is always good, because people deserve characters to relate to, but also I feel like it gives a little bit of additional depth to Yutaka's character. Like, he does recognize that Minoru is very handsome upon their first meeting, but I truly don't feel that he started to fall for him until like episode 3, when he got to know him more.

Also, vaguely off topic, but I love that the kiss is revealed to be a kiss on the cheek. Like, I know we can sometimes complain about using clever camara angles so actors don't actually have to kiss, but the reveal that it was a kiss on the cheek makes it so much sweeter to me.

[realmadridfamily]

Mishel Gerzig says that if she had the power to stop time, she would do it on her wedding day because she didn't want it to end. And no one can be surprised. The model became the wife of Thibaut Courtois, Real Madrid's goalkeeper, at the beginning of July last year in a fabulous wedding worthy of a fairy tale.

In fact, it took place at the Château de la Croix des Gardes in Cannes. Their wedding was full of emotions and magical moments, after the romantic proposal they made last year in Positano. While on vacation on the Tyrrhenian Sea, the Belgian athlete got down on one knee and gave his girlfriend a gorgeous engagement ring. But the real diamond in Courtois' life is Mishel, a stunning blonde beauty.

Fight for your dreams.

The model has been traveling around the world since the age of thirteen, appearing in campaigns and on the covers of prestigious fashion magazines. Intelligent and determined, at the age of 26, she knows what it means to fight to realize her dreams, because everything was not always rosy. “My mother received many offers to pose for me, but she was afraid to introduce me to this world, especially at such a young age. Finally, we decided together that we would try," Mishel recalls her beginnings in fashion, when, as a teenager, her parents took her to castings and photo sessions that lasted up to five hours.

“When I turned 16, I signed with modeling agencies in Miami and Milan, and my mother decided to quit her job to accompany me. My parents supported me very much and I will always be grateful to them," said Mishel, who realizes that, especially at this age, it is difficult to combine studies with her developing modeling career: "It was not easy at all. But my friends and teachers helped me so that I could continue my studies. I missed a lot of school trips and a lot of events, but I knew it was a necessary sacrifice to progress in my career, and I don't regret it.”

When she reached adulthood, she had to fight the monster of anxiety: “I wanted to give back to my parents everything they had given me. I started working hard, flying around the world, and something was wrong. One day, on the plane going to work, I started to feel short of breath, my vision was blurry, my heart was beating very fast and I couldn't feel my body. I thought I was having a heart attack, but actually I was having a panic attack. It was a very dark year in my life. With the support of family and friends, I was able to fight it and work on my mental health. I read and studied about panic attacks and learned to practice breathing and meditation. So every time I get one, I know how to recognize it, how to breathe deeply, and how to talk to myself: I remind myself that I am strong, that I am healthy, and that it will pass in time”.

"Physically and emotionally"

The strength and temperance she gained after seeing all things black served her well, especially in supporting her husband. Thibaut Courtois, considered one of the pillars of Real Madrid and one of the best athletes in the world - last year at the Ballon d'Or gala he was awarded the Yashin Trophy as the best goalkeeper of the 2021-22 season - was injured in training a few days before the start of La Liga. After the surgery, he is back in full shape, but his return to the pitch is still a long way off.

HOLA: Mishel, it will be difficult for Thibaut to be unable to play for so long. How are you supporting him emotionally?

MISHEL: The first month was very difficult, but I stayed positive and supported Thibaut physically and emotionally.

H: Four months have passed since your wedding, what is the most special memory you have from that day?

M: The ceremony and the “Yes, I Do” with Thibaut.

H: What funny or unforgettable anecdote would you share with our readers from your wedding?

M: The harmony that existed between everyone, between friends and family, and how much fun everyone was having. Happiness on this special day.

H: How is married life treating you? Have you noticed any changes since you became Courtois' wife?

M: In general, we feel the same. But we are both very happy and excited about this new chapter.

H: In this reportage you pose with Cartier pieces. Do you like to wear jewelry regularly?

M: Yes, I like to wear jewelry, but minimalist.

“An unforgettable look”

H: What are your favorites, the ones you usually wear the most?

M: Two necklaces I have, my wedding ring and sometimes a bracelet.

H: And when it comes to dazzling at a party, what are your favorite elements?

M: I think jewelry is very important to complete a memorable and iconic look. So I choose jewelry that matches my dress. But overall, I love special earrings and wearing multiple rings.

H: What is the most special piece of jewelry in your jewelry box that has the most sentimental value to you?

M: First of all, my wedding ring and engagement ring, as well as earrings and a bracelet that my mother gave me a few years ago.

H: What would you say is the jewel of your life?

M: The people in my life. My family and friends. The most valuable things in life are not the ones you can buy with money.

“My family lives far away”

H: Which of you, Thibaut or you, is more romantic?

M: I would say it's me. But Thibaut also has very romantic moments and loves to surprise me.

H: How do you surprise him?

M: With small things, daily, some romantic, others fun.

H: If you could stop time, at what point would you like to stop it?

M: On my wedding day, because we didn't want that day to ever end.

H: What if you had more time, how would you use it?

M: Seeing my friends and family more, because they live far away.

[kfanopinions]

Taeyong Ideal Type (Astrology Based)

i will be looking into taeyong's moon and venus sign for this. as he has given some form of birth time i also looked into his house placements

Moon 6th House

caring for others taeyong may want someone who can take care of him. with moon in the 6th house he takes care of others so someone who can take care of him and remind him to rest and relax and take a load off (lord knows he deserves a break) will be good

also someone who likes animals as well ^^

i can see clearly now the bs is gone... -_- bubu just wants some attention. he may act out/whine/complain and even say he's not feeling well. with his moon in the 6th house this can lead him to being a hypochondriac, but for the most part it's just for attention. so again, someone who can dote on him would be nice

the key to a man's heart is through people's stomachs lol nah, just kidding. taeyong with his 6th moon placement probably watches what he eats. this placement can have digestive issues so he may be worried about his own health but of course his partners. so someone who eats right may be nice

"two, four, six, eight who do "i" appreciate? taeyong! taeyong! taeyong!" so with a 6th house moon taeyong may want to do various things within his career. so someone who is his #1 fan, who supports him and encourages him to — as Ms. Frizzle said, "take chances, make mistakes, and get messy [hopefully not]" will be a great partner for him

at home is at home taeyong has a lot of domestic vibes coming in with his moon and venus so someone who is a homebody will absolutely be good for him

Moon Leo

"i'm a hunter, i'm going hunting" taeyong's moon in leo likes the "hunt." so his partner shouldn't try to be captured to early on. playing a little cat and mouse will be good *wink*

"emotions taking me over" someone who can handle strong emotions. look bubu is a cancer (no offense cancer's) but this sign imo is really sensitive. that paired with his leo moon wanting to delve into emotions - he needs an emotionally mature person

lending a helping hand with this placement tayeong may want to rely on his partner as he does with his friends

be careful what you wish for his partner should be careful with how they act around him. if his partner is super serious and demanding him to compliment them his leo moon may want to bring them down a few pegs

quick on your feet taeyong's leo moon is always on the go. he may want to try new things so someone who can keep up with all his ventures of never ending inspiration and aspiration will be good for him

family means a lot he may want someone who is close to their family (take this with a grain of salt). with this leo placement it makes me think he's close to his family so he may want someone who is close to theirs

Venus 4th House

time at home again, taeyong will like to spend time at home. so he'll need a partner who loves being at home as much as he does

"don't rock the boat" a person who is not an attraction for scandal will be good for him. venus in the 4th house doesn't like scandals or negativity

"excuse me, but may i please have some attentions?" wants to spend lots of time with his partners so he'll need someone who doesn't mind a slightly clingy partner *wink*

Venus Gemini

mentally stimulating physical characteristics will come second. with his venus in gemini taeyong may want someone who can keep up with what he wants to talk about

playful banter someone who words things interestingly. who he can really feel this (like just stated) mental connection with

let loose and have fun with a venus in gemini, taeyong may want someone who can bring out their inner child and just have fun. someone who is enthusiastic about trying new things

design your character venus in gemini may want someone who is smart and beautiful (of course this is subjective so it depends from person to person :D)

"pillow talk...there must be a pillow talking boy for me" seriously venus in gemini loves to talk. so someone who can keep the conversation going will be perfect! as soon as one subject is dying down they can easily bring up something new to talk about will be a nice partner

a whole new world with a gemini venus someone who is open-minded, adventurous, and down to try new things will be good for taeyong

"i'm like a bird" with this gemini venus taeyong may have this "free-spirited" nature to him. so someone who trusts him and doesn't tie him down

(but since he's a cancer and imo will want to know his partner thinks of him as theirs as he sees them as his. so take the above with a grain of salt

"the lion, the witch, and lots of secrets" he will keep secrets from people and maybe his partner so they should be aware of this. but with his cancer sun and moon in the 6th house, I'd advise his partner to be as open as possible (cancer's are worried warts over the smallest of things...trust me -_-)

"it's your life!" as taeyong is living out his life with this gemini venus he will want his partner to live out theirs ^^

"L, is for the way you look at me..." gemini venus men may like passionate, smart women, who love to learn and keep learning new things/subjects. someone who wants to do things for fun. maybe shyness can be hard to get through to, so someone who isn't too shy - he wants someone who likes to talk about EVERYTHING no matter how weird. also, he'll want someone who can make him feel safe and secure

awe...bubu <3333

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 258: First Date, p4

She’d seen it in his face, with that first peal of thunder, as they’d been making out in the back seat. And then she saw it again, as they’d each climbed out of the car into the rain, to scramble into the front: the second thunderclap frightened him, just as he was about to get in to the passenger seat. 

It made her heart shiver, her thighs twitch, seeing him react like that. “Shhh…it’s okay,” she assured him, “it’s just a big noise.”

“haha yeah…” he laughed nervously. 

But another >>crack<< of thunder, just as she was about to put the car in gear and pull out, made him jump in the seat next to her and yelp. “Scary, huh?” she asked, her belly fluttering in even greater arousal. She pulled down the driver’s side sun visor, slid open the mirror and - peering into her own eyes - did a quick manifestation:

Manifest: I am strong, I am strong enough. I am as strong as he needs me to be. I am as strong as he wants me to be. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I am a superwoman. I can carry the weight of this relationship on my strong shoulders. 

“Okay let’s go,” she said, the heat between her legs like a wet flame burning up into her, crackling at the back of her throat. Their kissing had lit fires and now she was a woman on a mission: get this boy alone NOW haha. 

“Whoah..!” he laughed as she peeled out, tires sliding and skidding into the wet gravel of the lot. He was anxious - no, J, excited…excited - to be alone with her, too. But this storm was freaking him out. “Don’t get us killed, right?”

“I promise!” she promised, as she took off into the street.

During their ride there was lightning, and there was rain. Lots of it. She never considered herself the strongest driver, especially at night, and double-especially with buckets and buckets splashing from the heavens against her windshield and overwhelming the wipers. Still, though, her speed was nearly reckless. 

Aside her in the passenger seat he was checking a weather app on his phone. He felt some of the same urgency to get home, back to his apartment with her and the promise of those endless legs, that perfect hair, those lips. He shouldn’t expect much - it was their first date - but his nine-inch erection still bulged uncomfortably as a constant reminder down his thigh. “This storm, is, centered, like…right over us,” he lamented, doing his best not to sound as nervous as he was, “the strongest cells are - haha - right where wey’re headed.” Right over the office. Great. Why was he so freaked out by this storm?

“It’ll be okay,” she assured him again, glancing over at him with a smile as she drove, “You’ve got me. I’ll kiss it all better.” She giggled. 

“Oh god…” he groaned aloud, rolling his eyes and making her giggle again. 

Seriously, though, she thought to herself as she took a right turn that she’d nearly missed (“ooopsie..!”) What is this? Me imagining him and the thunder and my arms and little forehead kisses and he’s so little and-

What is he doing? she suddenly noticed, Is he looking at my breasts?

His eye level, seated as they were, was at her bare, beautiful shoulder. Both of her arms were out, hands gripping the steering wheel. But he, yes, had let his phone screen fade out as he couldn’t help but stare at - through her white top - how her nipples had visibly swollen up. He was watching the right one, in fact, growing still. 

Oh my god!! she exclaimed to herself, nearly bursting out with an overcome laugh, realizing how visible her own excitement had become. “Wh-what are you looking at, sweetie?” she giggled as, with her attention off the road for a second, she swerved a bit in her lane.

“Oh, uh…s-s-sorry…” he apologized, face flushing and hand reaching out to steady himself with the dashboard. He was definitely seat-buckled in, she’d made sure of that. “I, um…”

“I-it’s okay,” she said, even a bit shyly, “Y-you don’t have to just look…you can touch.”

"A-are you sure?” he asked, though his heart was pounding in his throat with the promise of it, “Is that safe while you’re driving?”

“I’m a…I’m a very good driver…” she assured him.

“Okay th-then…oh my god,” he peeped as he tentatively turned in his seat and reached out to touch her, lay his right palm over the gentle nub of nipple pressing itself through the firm fabric of her bra, through her cotton shirt.

She groaned, as soon as she felt him. Warmth coursed into her from her chest, rainbows washed through her vision, causing her to swerve again haha. From all across the city it was like she could hear other girls squeal. “Omigod okay okay…” she laughed, obviously overcome. 

He quickly removed his hand, thinking he’d done too much. 

Her hand, though, shot out to stop him. “I didn’t tell you to ‘stop’…” she said, in a playful complaint, bringing his hand back to her breast, “just, be gentle.” 

Breath shallow, he slowly put his hand over her again. She’d returned both hers to steering, and sighed as his right palm tentatively traced the ample rondure of her huge bust, running his touch lower over her breast and amazing himself at just how small it made his hand look.

“Big, huh?” she asked, not without a touch of pride.

“Oh my god so big…” he repeated, “so beautiful…”

We could pull over right here and I could-

…

Strong, Missy, be strong. Drive.

His hand on the underslope of her right breast now, he found the courage to heft a little, test its weight. “You’re so beautiful,” he repeated again, amazed by her mass, the solidity of her bra below. He looked up at her, saw her teeth clenched. “a-are you okay?” he asked with concern, but this time kept his hand where it was.

“Yeah haha but…” she began, breathless, “...how far away are we?” She wasn’t thinking totally clearly, there was the rain…

“Just like two minutes,” he answered, Heart pounding in his chest. If there had been any doubt in her mind about his fascination with her breasts, it was long gone now. What would she think, what would she do when they were finally alone?

“Okay…keep your hand right there…” she said. It was like she was using the moment as a test, an exercise of her own self-control.

“O-okay…” he agreed, unmoving but feeling once again the weight of her tit in his hand. God…goddamn…

“Once we get there,” she began, in an ask, as she turned onto a new street, feeling her breast shift seismically against his palm, “can I come in?”

“y-yes of course,” he agreed, with sudden visions of her smearing chocolate cake on his face, “we can have the d-desserts…” eating it off him…

“Mmhm,” she acknowledged, with a little giggle, “you want me to just eat everything. You’re just imagining where all of this dessert is going to go, aren’t you? Right to…” At that, she pressed her breast forward, into his hand. “...here.”

”Uhh…” he stumbled, tongue caught in his throat. Holy shit her tit is so huge.

“haha yes I can’t wait,” she said, biting her lower lip and imagining suddenly something other than a Chocolate Triple Bomb Cake in her mouth, “I’ll eat it all up for you…”

Finally In the office parking lot, where he kept his apartment, more thunder immediately exploded as soon as a crack of lightning lit the sky and the lot. They were basically alone. Aside from two other cars - one of the construction guys’ trucks and one other, parked in the distance - theirs was the lone vehicle here, in the deluge. Strange; usually there was construction all through the nights, all weekend. Whatever it was, this storm was right on top of them, and she saw him shudder, his eyes wince. He was obviously trying to be brave, but he looked like a frightened kid. Parked haphazardly near-askew in a fire lane, turning off the engine, she turned to him and put her hand on his knee. “Are you okay?” she asked, with honest concern. 

“I’m f-fine,” he replied, with his best macho smile - but then another bolt and blast from the sky made him jump in his seat and squawk. 

“You weren’t freaked out like this by the thunder during the rainstorm on the beach at the conference,” she said tenderly, remembering that romantic moment from weeks ago - like she did every moment with him -  vividly, “What’s different?”

“I…I dunno…” he answered, non-commital but thinking the exact same thing she was: the world is changing; men are meeker and I’m smaller.

“Remember, I’m here,” she assured him. She looked at him, once again fought back the urge to just jump his little bones right then and there, and gave him a heartwarming smile. “Ready to go up?” she asked, a spark of promise glinting in her eyes. 

“S-sure,” he answered, heart thumping. 

“Stay right there,” she said, suddenly unclicking her harness and turning to get out of the car. 

A bit confused but still in his seat, he watched her slam the door shut, race around the front of the car through the torrential rain, and appear at his door, opening it for him. He undid his seatbelt. 

“C’mon!” she said, voice raised so’s not to be drowned out by the storm,  “I’m going to carry you!”

“C-carry me??” he asked up at her, a bit shocked but ggghdhdhbfk his cock swelled as without waiting for him to comply she bent, slid her left hand underneath his bottom, her right under his knees.

“Remember how we did this at the conference?” she said, her face now right next to his, temporarily out of the rain and lit up by the cabin light. Her eyes were sparkling; she was gorgeous. “I was pretty drunk…but I do, I remember. I liked it…did you?”

I d-did, he said to himself but could only admit “uhhhh…” to her as she - ohmigod! - lifted him cleanly from the passenger seat, like he weighed no more than a sack of rice. He felt her laugh as the rain began to pelt them both. 

She shifted him in her arms, settling him in a cradle and with a bump of her hip the car door was shut. Omigod he’s so light! she marveled, as immediately she began running, laughing again, through the rain to the office’s main door, her adorable little boss in her arms. 

“ugh right the construction!!” she wailed, laughing anew as they both realized yes the front doors were sealed. We can’t go in that way! They’d have to go around the side!  Run to the side door! Quick haha! She took off, jogging, him jostling in her arms, around the corner of the building. 

“Actually the rain feels really good!!” she yelled, suddenly stopping in her tracks halfway down the side path, under a sidewalk lamp on a high post.

“Wh-w-wh-what are you doing??” he sputtered, confused and getting drenched. Anyone watching would see a tall woman in high heels standing there with a small man draped across her arms, tilting her face up into the pouring rain, letting the sky wash over her under the lamp’s silver light, letting nature soak him to the bone. 

“Do you feel that???” she sang out, her eyes gleaming in the rain, reflecting the light from above, “It’s amazing!!”

They would see her then lifting him over her head into a press, laughing crazy in a pagan joy, like a priestess with an offering to whatever goddesses had summoned this storm. He had gone helpless in her hands, a limp sacrifice, and for the moment he was more afraid of her than the rain - until a bolt of lightning struck nearby. They would watch the scene light dramatically, see him jolt above her in defenseless terror, look up into the heavens from where he could swear he saw three giant faces - feminine, possibly familiar ones, at that - formed in a circle by the dark, swirling stormclouds themselves, regarding him, mouths agape. Only a weird pareidolia, of course, or an illusion of some new madness, but heightening his acute sense that something the fuck weird was going the fuck on. His eyes must be failing him!

Camera 0012 caught the whole thing. 

<<We’ll need that footage>>

“C’mon let’s run!” she yelled to him with a laugh (as if he had any choice haha!), lowering him once again to her bosom and jogging again to the office building’s side entrance.

Sputtering in the rain, confused and frightened (she’d just lifted me like a rag doll over her head!!) but trying to now laugh along with her despite the ignominous position in which he found himself, he watched her, now at the side door. He would have needed a keycard to unlock it, but for her a red light blinked and the lock opened automatically. In a flash they were inside, her still laughing and urgently promising him that “it’s okay!! We’re almost there haha!” as they hurried down the halls, through her office and up the temporary spiral stairs that led to his apartment. They were dripping dripping dripping, puddles on the floor in a path behind them. 

In through his apartment door - together they fumbled, getting his key from his jacket pocket - with him still in her arms, they were finally inside and she kicked the door closed with a declamatory >thud<.

They were alone. The small apartment was unlit, the storm keeping the ambient light from the parking lot little more than a miasmic glow. It was her first time in his place, and she surveyed it as she could, her heart thud-thud-thudding in the dark. She thought of finding a light switch, but when a flash of lightning lit the sky outside, brightening the room for a brief, abrupt second and causing him to reflexively curl more into her…she did not rush to turn on the lights.

>CRASH< the thunder was still upon them; he whimpered, and grasped at her body.

Omigod…she breathed deeply to herself and hugging him tighter, omigod omigod…what is going on?? Is this for real?

“Ohhh, sweetie,” she cooed, unable to help herself from using this, her most womanly and maternal of voices, “are you afraid of the big boom-booms?” He would find it emasculating, infantalizing, being spoken to like this but…

‘Boom booms?’ he repeated, to himself, acutely feeling the huge softness of her breasts pressing into his left side. What is going on?? Is this for real??  he thought. He whimpered again, as another flash from outside lit the room. I was never afraid of thunderstorms!! But this one seemed to somehow shake him to his core, in an uncanny, eldritch way, and Melissa’s presence was the only thing that could help make him feel safe. It was her perfume, it was the soft strength of her body, it was her voice.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” she said to him in the dark, as they prepared for the next thunderclap. He needed her! He could not be here by himself! He’d be unable to…to…to even breathe here without her!  His inadequacy, his weakness, was such a turn on! Unable to help herself, she shifted him in her arms, tilted his face to her-

>BOOM!< came the thunder. This one, thankfully, nearly ten seconds after the lightning flash. Perhaps the storm was moving on? Still, though, the loud noise startled him anew, and he couldn’t help but curl in closer to her warm, soft, strong body. What had come over him?!? He shouldn’t be doing this with…with her!! He needed to look stronger, like a man!

She, of course, was happy to indulge him, and hugged him closer still. “Awww, are you doing this on purpose, just to get close to me?” she giggled, nestling her big breasts into him, “Get on my good side? Hm?” She leaned in, smooched him on the forehead. “Because it’s working haha!” This was like every girl’s dream these days, and he was being so vulni!

Eyes adapting to the dark, she peered around his apartment, bouncing him gently up and down in her arms, comforting him. There wasn’t much here, just one room, really, a largish studio with a small attached bathroom. He had a small dining table beside a tiny kitchen area. An old couch sat in front of them…and his bed was off to the right. 

Not just yet, not just yet, Missy…

She needed…she needed something to distract him, get his mind off this storm for a bit. She peered around and saw, now, something on the floor just inside the doorway. They must have stepped right over it when they entered. It looked like a piece of paper, folded in thirds. 

“What’s this?” she chirped, brightly, as she turned to it and began to crouch, “Someone dropped off a letter for you? Why don’t you pick it up, sweetie?”

Another flash of lightning, and then - as he reached out, sliding an arm away from her to grab the piece of paper off the floor as she easily knelt to allow him to reach - an even more distant peal of thunder. He winced, but did not whimper. He still felt a swelling in his pants. That had been happening, with each thunderclap, this whole time. 

“It looks like a note, hm?” she confirmed, as she stood and he began to unfold it. Immediately she knew its origin, and her smile curled in wry amusement. “Can you read it? Do you need more light?” The girls had been up here, slipped it under the door. 

“n-n-no it’s fine,” he answered. There was maybe just enough light from the parking lot outside to by which to read. Both of them looked at the note:

“Dear Daddy-“ it began, in familiar, girlish handwriting, “hope you enjoyed your date!!!” It was not signed but - oh my god - the lower half of the paper was plastered with what must have been more than a dozen different lipstick prints, kisses of different colors. His wet fingers stained the page at its edges.

“Oh that’s sweet!” Melissa sang, “The girls each gave you a kissy-mark!” 

“y-y-yeah…” he answered, feeling suddenly uncomfortable here. What was going on with these women? He was…he was surrounded, and couldn’t find a moment's peace, or keep a shred of dignity. 

“The girls are a lot, huh?” she asked, looking down tenderly at him as he fussed with the paper in his hands. She saw his consternation. She knew he was looking at all those kisses, imagining them, well…the image of a little boy in a schoolyard being chased by a pack of laughing girls came to her head. “It may be hard to see, but they really want what’s best for you, they know it’s a tough time,” she continued, “and I do too. Divorces are, like, hard. But, look on the bright side. Now you can finally have what you always wanted, a family. All your girls.” 

He had admitted it to her, in the past. How he’d wanted children, though his marriage had been barren. He considered it, what she was suggesting - it was sick, twisted, luridly salacious, but it stirred him. ‘Daddy’, they had called him. It actually made him chuckle dryly, the idea of all these young women, so playful with him, for some reason so interested in him. And there were so many of them! But she, Melissa, was different. She was the one to which his thoughts always came. She was the one who showed up in his dreams, who kept him up at night. He looked up at her, at her beautiful, darkly shadowed face. “‘Daddy’, huh?” he said, thinking of all the girls, “so what does that make you?”

“Haha I guess that makes me Mommy,” she replied, feeling - oooo..! - a rush of warmth in her own heart as she said it.

Just then a thunderbolt jolted him, the paper dropping from his hands in his shock, another stiffening between his legs.

“Shhhh….” she comforted him again, leaning in for another soothing forehead kiss, brushing some wet locks of his hair away with her nose and a giggle. “Let’s get you dried off,” she suggested. He was, seriously, still dripping. “I’m going to put you down for a moment,” she explained, as she gently lowered him to his feet, feeling already the empty space where he once was. He wobbled, feeling unsure on his feet and dreading, suddenly, that there might be another flash, another thunderclap. But he was able to stand and look up at her. This storm had really done a number on him!

“Wait here,�� she said and - as if by some maternal intuition - knew exactly where to go to find a towel, the one he’d use after a shower. And though loathe to be away from him for even this long, across those scant yards of the apartment in his spartan little bathroom, she took the second to hold the towel to her face. She breathed in, deep. Ahhhh…it smelled of him.

“Here we go,’ she began, back at his side in a jiffy, covering his sopping head with the towel and scrubbing. She began drying his hair, then more gently his face, behind his ears, cooing affirmations as he stood, acquiescent to her attentions and fucking hard as a rock. She knew her big breasts were right in his face, the white of her shirt plastered wetly to her chest, probably showing off everything. Her black bra was showing plainly through it for sure, and allowing the most firm of wobbles. She probably smelled wet and warm…he was likely under her spell. She knew he was feeling vulnerable, but his wits were coming back as the storm retreated. This was a good time to talk.

“I know I said earlier, at dinner, that I was, like, your ‘mommy-girlfriend’ or whatever,” she began, as she scrubbed at the back of his neck, drying his shoulders, maybe casually aloof but one-hundred percent haha acting the part. “It was sort of a joke. I know I’m not your mommy, or even your girlfriend yet,” she continued, and was actually a bit nervous herself and tried doing her best to make her voice sound earnest, calming and encouraging, “But, do you think this…something, this relationship, could work out between us?” 

“Uh, I, um…” he began, caught suddenly in a serious conversation? He was still a bit out of it, stuck on a few words that she’d just said, not the least of which was ‘yet’.

“I feel like,” she continued, seeing she needed to maybe keep the pressure off a touch, help guide him through this, “since we got back from our trip together, we’ve been drifting apart a little. Now, though, I want us to get closer again.” She’d finished scrubbing his head, and had taken his hands into hers with the towel, was drying them. She looked him deep in the eye. “I want us to get very, very close…”

“Uhhh…” he struggled, as the images began to flow through his head. C-c-close..?

“How about you?” she asked, releasing his hands, “Do you want to get closer?” She began to scrub her own hair, which was wet but not the sodden mess his had been, with the bath towel.

He watched, and was entranced by even this, the most mundane of things. Was she actually the most beautiful girl in the world? When she was done, her mane was huge and full, a dark mass of softness in the dim light. He hadn’t said anything. “Hm? What do you think?” she prompted, but saw he was maybe still a bit confused. ”Here, sweetie, let's get you out of those wet clothes.” 

She began with his jacket, his new one, the blazer he’d bought for the party and had worn tonight, for their date. She helped him off with it, and laid it carefully over the back of the couch. It was wet, but somehow his button-up shirt below was even wetter. She unbuttoned him, one-by-one, and helped peel it off.

“I noticed you’re not wearing your wedding ring…” she commented, after she’d helped him pull his hands out through his sleeves. He was shirtless, now, bare-chested and shivering.

“I didn’t think you’d like it,” he said, honestly, “and you’re my date tonight, not her.”

nnnNNMMNNNNNGGGHhHSHDJFHPIJKN. She had to stop, to freeze. She’d nearly popped. Relax, Missy. 

Though it was dark, he could see plainly how wet and see-through her top really was. He’d taken her moment of speechlessness to comment, truthfully concerned, “Y-you’re all wet, too..”

oh jesus u have no idea. ”Y-yeah…” she said, recovering but now dropping to a crouch on her haunches in her high heels, right in front of him. She knew he was speaking earnestly, not pruriently. But a familiar fire was building in her, and as she saw the huge swelling down his right thigh she nearly gasped. She wouldn’t be surprised to see steam start rising from her own rain-moist skin, the promise of his body fanning her flames. She reached out for his belt, tightened to its limit around his little waist; he’d even punch in some new holes. She felt him balk a bit, suddenly shy and trying to step backwards from her - but she grabbed his belt.

“What's the matter sweetie?” she asked, big eyes up to give him a fake hurt look, pouting her lips as she spoke, “You don't want me to find out how much you like me?”

He wrestled with himself for a brief moment. It was too much, and it was time. “N-no..please…do it…” he surrendered, allowing her to her task. Dutifully Melissa, his new overdeveloped Office Manager, more than ten years his junior and breathtaking beyond belief, undid his belt, undid his pants, unzipped his fly. She pulled his pants down, already seeing his monster cock swollen down his right thigh, proud past the leg of his otherwise over-big boxers. Those she slid down easy, as large as they were on him, and his erection sprang to life between them.

Omigod, it’s true. “You’re so hard…” She’d never seen anything like it. Even in the dark it was beautiful, all nine-plus inches of it. She fought against every fiber in her genetically-perfect being to just grab him by the hips and-

“jesus, M-Melissa…” he moaned, throbbing already, bobbing lewdly, feeling the cool air of the room around him. The predictable embarrassment he’d feel at times like this - I know, it’s huge, I’m sorry… - gripped him. She was so close, and it was as if it could tell.

She was so close. She could grab it, she could throat him. But no, not yet. He might need more. He deserves more. "Would you like me to take off my shirt, sweetie?" she asked plainly.

“omigod yes…” he groaned, looking down her top already at her deep cleavage but imagining…oh god, oh christ…

”Here…why don’t you help…” she encouraged.

His hands instantly moved to comply, awkwardly reaching to her top, where it fell around her shoulders. He began to tug on it, upwards.

Melissa giggled, and brought her hands to his. “Shhh…” she hushed him, her hands coming to rest on his, to stop him, “let me stand up…”

She rose, now, slowly in front of him, her huge bosom nearly brushing his chin on its way up to settle in front of his face. He watched as she did, smelled her perfume.

She felt so much bigger than him, and she wanted him to feel it too, to appreciate it. It was a new urge, a new feminine urge that had gripped her and would not let go. “I’m so much taller than you, Dr. J,” she said, bringing his hands to grasp her shirt at the hem and leave him to start lifting it up with shaky hands, “Do you think you’ll be able to do this?”

“I…I..” he began, feeling every one of the nine inches he’d lost as he started to raise her top. At first, in his meekness, it was just a scant couple of inches more over her already-exposed taut stomach, her defined abs standing out in stark relief in the  low light. He couldn’t help but stare, just at her stomach.

He paused.  “I-I’m sorry…” he apologized, “I’m a little overwhelmed…”

That made her giggle; plus: that tickled! "It's okay, sweetie. I only want to please you tonight. We can go as slow as you want," she said, surprising herself with the restraint in the words coming from her mouth. For so long she hadn’t let a man even touch her. It had been years, honestly, since she’d been intimate with a guy. And with what’s been going on with her hormones recently she figured she’d be more than anxious to be skin-to-skin with this man, slathering to be just all over someone for whom she felt this undeniable, magnetic attraction, now that they were alone. But with him it was all feeling just so...right. With him she didn’t want to rush. With him, she wanted it to be perfect. He is so safe, she thought, so kind and gentle. And he's so small and...yeah, perfect for me.

I can be strong but c’mon I can’t wait forever haha.

She brought her big hands back over his smaller, trembling ones, and together they slid her shirt slowly upward, heightening the tease. Her tight abs were in full view now, and her shirt rose up to the point where the bottom of her huge black bra appeared along with the - nnnngh holy christ - hint of lower boob, some bulging out voluptuously below her satin cups. She kept the slow pace, her massive breasts coming into view achingly slowly, the dim night and shadows only adding to the drama. As her white shirt rose farther, stretching elastically over her bosom, the naked tops of her full, firm breasts, with their bare smooth, tan-and-creamy skin, were revealed.

He let out a gasp as he realized just how remarkably big her chest was, in start contrast to her thin, waspish waist, and she looked in his eyes, a big smile on her lips as she watched his amazed face.

"Are they big enough for you, hun?" she teased, and she took over from him, finished taking off her top, lifting it over her head as his hands fell away, helpless. Her massive JJ-cups, bigger than his head, suddenly dominated the room. 

…it was even smaller on her now. She bulged out not only underneath it but over the cups now too.

She giggled, loving how flummoxed she had him. “This is the same bra, sweetie,” she confirmed, as if reading his thoughts, “But now, we’re totally alone. No one can disturb us.” She smiled down at him, though she could tell he was still reticent, like he felt he was being judged…or watched. “You can touch it…” she offered, watching proudly as he tried to keep himself together, devastated by her figure. She loved - loved loved loved - being able to have this effect on him. After a brief pause, she saw that he’d gathered the strength again, and watched as he tentatively reached up with both hands to cup her massive breasts through her bra, sinking them deep into their sides, supple flesh and firm cups giving some way to his touch.

“You like that I’ve been gaining weight, don’t you?” she asked, a mischief in her smile belying how much she was enjoying teasing him, “You’ve like being able to watch, seeing that nothing fits me quite the same?” The feel of his hands on her was marvelous, and the rapt look on his face was even more wonderful still. She loved being this…overwhelming.

“wh-what size are you now?” he stammered, studying her intently, feeling like he had the chance - she’d just made the comment about her weight gain, her size - to ask what he’d been dying to know.

“Do you mean my bra size, sweetie?” she retorted, her smile becoming even more crooked. Boys and their obsession with these things, she laughed to herself. “Is that what you’re wondering?”

“y-yes…”

She smiled to herself. “How about I tell you,” she began, now moving to clasp her hands behind her back, which pulled her shoulders back and gently pushed her chest forwards, “on our next date?” At that, she began to slowly pivot, back and forth, at the hip, showing off the dramatic curves of her torso as his overmatched hands just held on. She filled his vision, for sure, she was all that he saw. She still wore - along with that black bra, her jeans, and big red heels - an enigmatic little smile. “Will you go out on a second date with me?” she cooed, in an innocent voice, still, “Hmmmm?”

“yesss…please…” he peeped. Her big, shapely breasts seemed ready to burst her bra, and he could not keep his eyes off them. He was now holding on to her chest as if for support. 

“Ok…” she continued, “promise?”

“I…I promise…” he breathed, unable to believe, in one quick moment of wonder, the incredulity of it all. How had he got here? Three months ago he was…and now he’s…and this girl…they're talking about…

“A third date?” she giggled, still twisting back and forth, “A fourth?”

How had he got so lucky???

“Oh my gosh yes yes..!” he laughed, making her, perfectly pleased with herself, laugh as well. 

“Oh good!” she squealed, suddenly pulling his face into her bosom, squashing his face into her cleavage. His hands, in surprise, shot out to the sides and she heard him utter a little squawk. Haha! “I’m so glad you like me!”

His whole body had stiffened, in shock, and she knew the air he breathed now would be full of her pheromones. Who knew what they’d be doing to him at this point but haha it’d have to be something good! She let him breathe, settle, feel the softness of her big tits around his face as she held him, waited for him to quiet. She lowered her chin to rest on his head, idly stroking his hair. He should be feeling like he’s in his own private heaven by now, she mused, knowing him already all too well. Her lower belly warmed again as another flicker of lightning and then - a bit later - a roll of thunder made him quiver. His cock, his hard, enormous, naked cock, pressed into her thigh through her jeans. She nestled herself around him, so voluptuous that she felt she could nearly surround him - wouldn’t that be amazing! And he would love it! But, she told herself, all in good time. If he thought he was drowning in women now, he had no idea that what he was currently experiencing was just a sprinkling, that he was caught in a little rain shower. He had no clue as to the deluge that was coming. It was going to be a tempest, a monsoon. The clouds were soon going to open and burst and rain down so much woman on the world that…oh my god. 

Breaking from her reverie in a flash of revelation, Melissa’s eyes widened, suddenly considering the thunderstorm outside that still surrounded them. Her chin still resting on his head as he wallowed in her boobs, she sniffed the air and it all began to fall into place. How it…the storm…was that..?

She looked across the room. From atop a cabinet, across the little kitchen, a tiny red light blinked. Her eyes narrowed. 

Ugh, she thought, yeah right. I forgot. 

Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so alone. Suddenly, nothing felt quite so private. They could be watching. In fact, she could be watching. And the thunderstorm…was it theirs?

She began, slowly, to get angry. She could feel it, she could feel it rising. They were playing with him. Are they trying to play with her?  Another bolt of lightning, then thunder, came, exciting her like it had been all evening. She felt it stiffen him, too, making him groan - muffled - into her. Stop it! she thought, as loud as she could, let us have this…this…this time together! Like normal people!!

Another bolt of thunder came, and then another, along with the thrill in her bones and the stiffening at his hips. They knew. They knew she knew, maybe from watching her. They were playing with her! They were!! Ooooooo so mad!!! She’d found herself gripping his head tighter; he’d started to flail a bit. 

No. No no no no no. This was not the right mood. She needed to calm herself down.

I am strong, I am strong enough, she said to herself, repeating the mantra from earlier in her mind, I am as strong as he needs me to be. She breathed deep, feeling herself swelling around his face, and felt her anger come under better control. 

The thunder began coming faster. Another bolt, then another. Though she felt him shiver, still frightened by the noise, she gently pulled him out from the soft safety of her bosom. She dropped down in front of him to a crouch, his thick, meaty erection now standing proud and bobbing in the air right in front of her face. Every thunderclap just made him harder; she could watch it happen, see his manhood, his turgid sac, swell bigger with each new >>crack<<. The poor thing!! What are they doing to him?? They were obviously redoubling their efforts. She bit her bottom lip, struggling against so many deep-seated instincts, to just let it happen. God how she wanted to just take it right there into her big welcoming throat as he collapsed on top of her, draping his weak little body over her bigger, stronger one as she gave him relief. She could fucking consume him, right here…but that’d be exactly what they wanted. They’d be watching every second. She would see. 

I am strong enough. 

She leaned in and smelled him, making him groan as she felt his hands come to rest on her head. He wanted this too!  He smelled yes amazing but she could also smell that other, familiar, smoky scent that brought back memories of her childhood - they called it brimstone.

He’s mine! she thought aloud, You can’t have him!

She breathed in again, using his scent to steel herself, make herself stronger. Being with him gave her strength. 

I am as strong as he needs me to be, as he wants me to be, she repeated, mentally, emotionally and physically.

But he’s so hard, tho! she thought as she watched his cock throb and swell, thick veins pulsing around a shaft so stiff and dark with blood it looked like it might burst. I did this to him! I can't leave him like this! She will satisfy her man! But, she resolved herself, she will not do it their way. She’ll do it her way. She’ll show them how strong she is, with that little red light as her witness. They’ll soon see: being with him makes her stronger. 

She’s changing into what he needs, she’d realized, long ago. And now he needs her strong -  to resist, and to protect. There are so many of us, and we're getting so big, she knew, He needs me strong. 

Almost to herself, but looking at him, she spoke quietly.  “You want me strong?” she said, “Watch how strong I can get…”

At that, she reached out to grab his hips, each hand taking one side of his thin pelvis, tenderly but firmly. His bones felt so thin in her hands, and she knew suddenly for sure that she could do this, that she was strong enough. Still staring at his engorged, expectant cock, she readied herself, and began to rise. 

He gasped as, slowly, Melissa began to stand. She had his hips in her hands and she began to stand, taking him with her. As if he weighed nothing, she slowly lifted him, his feet leaving the ground, her face mere inches away from his hard, throbbing cock, staring at it. She rose, and rose, coming gradually to her feet, to stand with him in her grasp and holding him by the hips a full three feet off the ground. The camera, she made sure, could see it all. 

“M-M-Melissa..?” he peeped, overcome with shock. How could she be this strong!?!

Only then did her eyes leave his penis, and rise to meet his. She saw the terrified look in his eyes as the realization came to him, as the impact of it hit. He was coming to grips, quickly, of just what this woman could do, that this bombshell of a girl, his new Office Manager and budding romantic partner was also a fucking superwoman, strong beyond belief. She saw the bolt of comprehension finally hit him, and it made her smile. 

I am a superwoman, she told herself, I can carry the weight of this relationship on my strong shoulders. 

Though it still blasted away in earnest, she had stopped even seeing the arcane lightning, he had stopped hearing the thunder. To the two of them everything in the universe was now just what existed in their locked gazes. For herself, she was amazed at how easily she had lifted him. She knew she’d been getting stronger, in spades recently, at Evolution’s testing facility and at the gym by herself, but she’d had no idea she could do something like this, lift a full-grown man like he was a rag doll, hold him up like he was a toy with just her hands. Like he weighed nothing. Hahahaha it felt amazing, and her eyes widened in excitement and her smile grew to a grin as she slowly stretched out her arms to full-length, and raised him higher. 

“M-M-Melissa!” he croaked, and reflexively put his hands above himself. Luckily, the ceilings in his apartment were high, but the ceiling quickly approached and he was worried he’d hit his head. But then she shifted, turning, and began to walk, and he grabbed onto her forearms for support. 

She was headed for his bed. 

“I didn’t want you to trip,” she smiled, eyes still looking up into his as his pants and boxers hung awkwardly, still around his feet, “Can’t have you fall and hurt yourself…” Though his fear was belied in his voice, she saw it did nothing to make him any less hard. In fact…part of her thought he kinda liked this. 

She reached the edge of his bed, a small little thing against the wall with a thin mattress, thin sheets, a thin blanket. Still she held him, though, high above her head, looking up, watching his face and every little movement it made. 

“I could put you down, now,” she said, her smile mischievous  as he hovered over the bed’s edge, “or I could keep holding you, if you’d like?” Lightning flashed, thunder pealed in ever-quickening bursts. The eldritch storm was once again right over them, right on the office building but more impotent to them both. They had, now, each other. “Do you want me to keep carrying you?”

“uh…uhh…uh…” was all he could manage, still overcome by the experience of being held like a weightless nothing in the hands of a beautiful, obviously insanely strong young woman. It was, he’d realized already, an incredible sensation, somehow liberating in its display of power. She could do anything she wanted with him, he was a weakling next to her, it was made plain to see. Being in her grasp like this was darkly exciting, and he was tempted to ask her to carry him around the apartment like a plaything…but the promise of the bed was below him. “I…I think you should put me down,” he finally said, out of both arousal and fear. 

Giggling, she obeyed, and lowered him gently to sit naked on the edge of his bed. She took a step forward, and kneeled at his bedside, tenderly spreading his scrawny legs apart at the knees so she could sit between them. His shaft bobbed and twitched in the air between them. She sat up as straight as she could, chest forward in her overmatched black bra. With Melissa on her knees, him sitting on the bed, her eyes were still a bit above his. Her heart fluttered, seeing that his feet didn’t even hit the ground, and that she had him, her boss of these past couple months, totally naked in front of her. 

“Look at me, Dr J,” she said, her gaze unbroken from his though his eyes darted around, like those of a confused animal. As ready for her as he obviously was, this was a lot for him, she knew, and it was her job to make him comfortable. She took his chin into her right hand, and his eyes found hers. They looked at one another, through the darkness, his over-huge member wagging silently below, desperate for attention. Thunder and lightning tried to bend them both to its will. But I’ll do this in my own way, in my own time. I’m strong enough.  

Melissa felt her strength manifesting itself as being able to stop herself from doing exactly what she’d been genetically programmed to do, mindlessly maul his little body in passion, into submission. Even in the face of this unnatural storm, which was playing with both of their levels of arousal, she could be strong enough to resist her deepest instincts. She knew he’d let her, too, knew she could do it. He’d let her push him onto the bed and spread his little legs and do anything she wanted with him. She could break him, tonight, from here on out wear his little heart around her neck, nestled between her breasts like a pendant, a trophy. Play with him like a brainless little toy, slave to her pheromones. She could have his dignity, make him a little simp to her every whim. Enslave him to the cause. 

But normal girls don’t do that. Relationships that last don’t start off that way, under the watchful cameras of huge, shadowy multinational corporations. That’s not how good girlfriends behave. She could be strong enough to resist these urges. She could get him to like her, for real. 

“Melissa, I…I’m feeling a little overwhelmed…” he said, obviously feeling the effects of the storm, the weight of these past two months on his shoulders. He was staring into the green-and-gold eyes of the very mainspring of all his troubles, this young woman, the very reason why he’d made all these bad decisions, sacrificed so much: his marriage, his career, his integrity. 

“I know you are, sweetie,” she said, tenderly, now holding his face with both hands in the most compassionate way, staring into his eyes. She tried to read him, but she was still learning, figuring out all his little idiosyncrasies.  “What is it? What are you thinking about?” she asked.

That gave him pause. He, of course, couldn’t admit to the primary thought on his mind - getting her to touch him, kiss him again. But what was keeping him from acting on those impulses? He was also thinking about…well…his mind was a mess. “N-nothing,” he eventually replied, casting his eye away again.

“Care to…elaborate?” she chuckled, “You know, explain?” Her left hand reached down and poked him, in a little tickle, in the belly.

“Heyy…!” he laughed, doubling over a bit and eyes goggling as - closer, now, to her massive boobs - he watched them jiggle in her own mirth. He sat up, thankful for the dim light and how it was hopefully hiding his blush. Yes, she was right. He figured he had to say…something. He needed to be honest about how he, y’know…felt.  “Ah… Melisssa. We’re just so…different,” he began, cringing a little; he was just not good at this touchy-feely stuff, expressing his emotions, trying to put the vast differences in their backgrounds, their educations, let alone their ages into words, “Is this…really going to work out between us?”

“We are, we are different,” she admitted, looking down at him, brushing three fingers over her cleavage, to bring his attention back. She knew exactly what he was saying. “But…when you strip the differences away, it gets easier. I’m still just a woman, you’re still just a guy. A guy I happen to like…a lot,” she said, “Do you…like me?”

”Yes,” he answered, his voice quavering, fighting to keep eye contact again as her left hand still lightly caressed the bare skin of her bosomy chest, “I do.” 

“I like you, you like me,” she said, smiling patiently, warmly, “That’s a good start.”

“Y-yeah,” he admitted, still incredulous that he was here, naked, talking about a relationship with this towering twentysomething. Huge soft hair, long elegant neck, arresting eyes and a jaw-dropping figure. She was gorgeous! Why would she be interested in him?!?

“Sometimes,” she sighed, her breath ruffling up his hair and followed by her fingers, as the hand on his face creeped back behind his head, “We gotta go on feelings, ‘cause it’s all we’ve got. Maybe we should just let go and enjoy the moments as they come, huh?” She began caressing his scalp through his thick hair.

“o-okay,” he acceded. He’d stopped hearing the thunder, could only hear her voice.

“Like, what do you want to do right now?” she asked, pausing, considering her options. “How about…this..?” At that, she slowly drew in a deep breath, pulled back her shoulders. Immediately his eyes fell to her breasts. “Something like this, just looking at me…that can relax you.” The one hand still behind his head insured he was staring into cleavage, while the fingers of her left hand rested on her breast, alighting aside the deep, warm cleft that separated them. “All that stress, all those thoughts and worries, they have to go somewhere…” she began to whisper, “let them go here…between them…”

He watched as one finger slowly slid between her breasts, separating them a fraction before being engulfed and lost to view. She slid it in, and then slowly out, lazily. And then back in again.

She smiled, watching him become completely enrapt with this, the simplest of movements from her. His jaw was actually gaping. She could warp his mind with her perfumes, make him do whatever she wanted; she knew that. But maybe, instead, she could just show him how it could be, not just make it so, force it. That way, he could come to her on his own time, on his own terms. He might retain some of his dignity, that way.

He’d like that.

Though she’d promised herself she’d never use them on him, Melissa had already begun to allow her “love” pheromones to slowly eeke from her chest, to emanate from her skin. She knew there was a term for them, some psychologolical (was that the word?) word for what they could do, but she didn’t want to change him with them, didn’t want to have to artificially create this relationship herself. That would feel…wrong. But, she thought, if she could just put her feelings into them (and she had lots of those lol!), into the powerful perfumes that could come from her body, maybe she could just show him what it could be like, how she could make him feel. It was kind of like her own personal love spell haha, but just a preview! 

She watched as his face began to change, his expression began to soften, as she gently continued to release herself into the air and slowly slid her fingers - two this time - in and out of her cleavage again. See? she thought, He doesn’t have to be afraid of me, like they want. I can get him to love me instead, like I want.

He’d begun to make little noises. Omigod so cute! she marveled, overcome with her own attraction to even the littlest idiosyncrasies of his, like his little whines and whimpers, I still like to play with him tho! “You like looking at my breasts, hm?” she asked kindly, “Putting all those bad thoughts away, watching them disappear between them?”

“yesss...” he murmured, hypnotized. His voice shook, his body was beginning to tremble.

It almost brought her to gasp, a little bit, hearing how excited he now sounded. Ooo what..what was happening? She glanced down, quickly, at his throbbing erection. It stood stock still stiff and was - omigosh! - almost vibrating in the charged space between them. He was so turned on!! And..it looked…

“They’re big, and if you need I’ll just keep them getting bigger,” she said, an aroused husk deepening her voice, pressing on. She was surprising herself with her own boldness, here, but she knew it was her that was doing this to him, not them. “I want them to be big enough to hold all your feelings, Dr. J, good and bad,” she continued, thinking she might be able to…with just her voice…“I want my breasts to get enormous for you, if that’s what you need…”

“oh godddd…” he moaned, and he saw her watch his hips start to shake, his tight abdominals start to clench. Flooding through his mind were visions, feelings, emotions. Could this actually be the beginning of something between him and this…this…this fantasy woman?? What was she saying?? She was making him feel so…so good! What would more times alone bring? Could he feel like this…forever?

It did seem…she wasn’t even touching him but he looked like he was…

“Dr. J are you about to..?” she asked.

“y-y-yesss…” he groaned, obviously overcome and unable to control what was about to occur with his body. His eyes were plastered on her tits, he was imagining a life spent beneath them. 

“Do it..” she breathed, suddenly excited herself and leaning in closer and letting a thick new wave of her pheromones out onto him. “Come for me,” she said, “come for me sweetie…”

“nnnnnnNNNNGGGHH…!” he moaned, his body spasming, his hips jerking as, unbidden, his cock erupted. Naked, standing tall, it shot its first load nearly three feet skyward. Then again, and again, it jerked, his loins and sac clenched as he emptied himself into the air. “oh m-…oh my god…!” What was happening?!?

“Oh yes…oh yes Dr J!!” she crowed, amazed at the sight, amazed at the moment, amazed at her abilities to do what she had just done. She’d made a man come - with just her voice! FFFfffuck it made her feel so…powerful! “Come on, yes, come for me..!” she urged him, “come - more! More!” She was being gripped in an ecstasy of her own, something strong that lit her fires deep. Oh my godddd… It was coming quick…she might…she might…

Girls everywhere began to sweat, to heat, sit up straight and grew quiet. Sounds around them disappeared.

As if on command, he was hit with another wave of orgasm and he grunted anew. He stared down now at his pulsing, throbbing, still erupting erection and - instead of feeling bad, like a teenage premature ejaculator - felt proud, proud of his undeniable virility. Look at this thing! It was enormous, powerful, and Melissa seemed in awe. And, she didn’t seem upset at all that he came so quickly. She was excited that he was in love with her body’s power and her seemingly endless curves.

“Oh yes, oh yes, good boy..!” she caught herself saying, bringing yet another whine from him, “Keep going! Keep coming, get it all…out!” Her own body was quivering…quivering…and, yes, yes! Suddenly Nnnnnnnnnhhhh…! A small climax of her own, from pure excitement, without the touch of another, shivered through her body.

Girls everywhere felt it. Girls everywhere moaned.

Nnnngh…nnngh…nghh…Yes! he growled to himself, and could feel the power of her voice, like it was squeezing his cock from shaft to tip, milking him. It felt amazing but oh my god what the fuck?!? She’d just…she’d just said ‘good boy’ and nnnnnGGGHHHhhhh….!!!! He was rapt as she continued to coo to him, continued to urge him, continued to fill his world with her voice. It was…it was like hands, her hands, finishing him, coddling him, comforting him with pleasure. “Good boy, Dr. J…yes…yes, good boy..!”

They both stared, they both breathed, and as his orgasm slowly changed from a storm to a drizzle, the rolls of thunder around them faded to a flicker, the lighting became quiet. She purred, she cooed, his climax drifting silent. His come had - holy shit - covered her breasts, and they both now watched its pearly goo dribble down her slopes, into her cleavage. He gasped, finally able to draw a real breath, struggling to weigh out what had just happened. Had he been that turned on?? That he came with…with…with just her talking to him?!?

Melissa, for herself, was swimming in pleasure. This was both a final culmination of everything and the first step of something. It was so, so, so so so so so exciting!!!! 

Girls everywhere had begun to laugh.

“Oh my God, Dr J! That was so wonderful!” she sang. She was still shaking, and her enthusiastic exhilaration clipped his budding embarrassment. This was less a premature ejaculation and more a…a demonstration. This is what it can be like, she thought to him, this is what I can do.  She hoped the camera caught the whole thing.

This is what this girl can do to me? he marveled at the same time, watching as his cock began to fall and beginning to feel - whoah, wow - an intense tiredness overtake him, A-and this is just our first date..!?  ”Melissa…h-how did you..?” he was able to ask, even as he began to slump, to his left, head leaning towards his pillow.

”Shhhh…shhhh, sweetie. Don’t think too much…” she whispered as her right hand moved to support him, so he didn’t fall too quickly, all as she tenderly leaned towards him and slowly slid fingers of her other hand, now, through the gooey mess on her chest, “Just know that it’s just the first step into something beautiful…”

His eyes began to close as he watched her scoop, and slowly bring her fingers to her mouth.

======================================

the story, continued, at my Patreon

[freudianslumber]

Tiger Man

Summary: The year was 1941, bandmates and secret lovers Scotty Moore and Elvis Presley got caught red handed by Scotty’s fiancée, and this led to the young men being thrusted headlong into the China-Burma-India theater of World War II as members of the first American Volunteer Group (The Flying Tigers).

Chapter 10. Garden of Roses

Pairing:  Scotty Moore/Elvis Presley (m/m), Ken Ishikawa/Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of past murders, rape, dreams and nightmares, sex and intimacy, physical and sexual assault

“So, why did you save me?  And why would you kill your own kind?”  Elvis finally brought up the perplexing questions in his mind, still blindfolded, but now sitting in the back of a car with Ken Ishikawa sitting next to him and Seto driving. 

“Oh, don’t insult me, El.  I would never consider Lieutenant Miura or his minions to be my kind!”  The Major seemed to take offense to the notion.  “They were too reckless and vulgar, no sense of proper appreciation or awe for a magnificent creature like you, darling.  It’s like when I go hunting and encounter an endangered and beautiful species of deer, the first thing on my mind can’t be to shoot it for meat.”

The tone and wording of the Japanese officer were creepily intimate, setting off alarms in Elvis’ mind.  “What in the world do you want with me then?  I’m of no use to you as a source of intelligence, you know that by now!”  The pilot was keenly aware that his hands were still tied up tightly behind his back, feeling numb and stiff.  His feet remained in shackles as well, reminding him of his prisoner status.  He had a bad feeling about the direction this conversation was taking. 

“I guess that’s a fair question.” Ishikawa sighed, “Can’t you tell I’ve been infatuated with you this whole time??”  With that confession he placed his right hand on the American’s left thigh, causing the latter to jump a little.  Elvis tried but was unable to escape this intrusive advance due to the small confines of the backseats.   “Don’t be so prudish, El.” The officer chuckled, still using the nickname without ever getting consent from the young man.  He squeezed and rubbed the prisoner’s thigh suggestively against his will, delighting in it at the other’s expense.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Ishikawa went on to reveal more about his thoughts and motivation: “When I saw you for the first time, on the verge of bleeding out when you arrived, I already felt an irrational attraction to you.  I just knew I couldn’t let them amputate your leg; it would be such a shame to leave you permanently crippled.  Later I got to know about your personality during our interactions and the interrogation sessions.  You are stubborn and spunky, almost too much for your own sake.  But you earned my respect for your tenaciousness, and for being loyal to your country.  In the Imperial Army we were taught to look down on captive soldiers because they were seen as dishonorable cowards.  But you impressed me with your mental toughness and stoicism.  Although I was frustrated that you weren’t spilling any useful information we were seeking, I realized I couldn’t let you die when you almost didn’t make it during the last interrogation.  I couldn’t believe how emotionally attached I had become in such a short time.  I halted the interrogations to let you recover and began to scheme of a way to remove you from the torture and pain.  When I received transfer orders for you, I wasn’t filled in regarding if you were being transferred to a prison camp literally or if that was a cover for secret execution.   But given my background and experience, I had a strong inkling it might be the latter.  So Seto and I followed the car, planning to abduct you on the way even if this was just going to be a regular transport to Kandaw prison camp.  Of course, as you know now, we ended up catching them in the act and took out the whole execution squad instead…”

“So you went through all that to make me into your lover doll??” Elvis interrupted the Major, sounding indignant and outraged. He was almost going to use the more jarring term “sex slave” instead, but even just the thought left him chilled to the bone. 

“I wouldn’t put it in that way, El.  I understand you have a lot of misgivings against me, but I have genuine feelings for you.”  Ishikawa objected.   His prisoner replied in an incredulous tone: “That’s just ludicrous!  We are enemies and you are a sadist, end of story!!”

“Calm down, will you?”  Major Ishikawa ripped off Elvis’ blindfold all of a sudden, engaging him in eye contact.  “The truth is, there was another personal reason I was drawn to you initially.  You reminded me of my first love in high school.  His name was Sean.  He was strawberry blond and not as pretty as you, but he had a pair of pure blue eyes as well.  We kissed and made out, that was the extent of what we did.  But eventually he left me after his older brothers found out about us.  They beat me almost to a pulp and told me to go back where I came from.  Soon after that Sean sent me a letter saying our relationship was over because he was pressured by his family to end it.  I knew even if I were a girl, I would never be accepted by his folks simply because I was Japanese, even though my family was much wealthier than his.  That was when I realized I didn’t belong in America, even though up to that point I had spent more years in the U.S. than in Japan.  Another valuable lesson I learned was only the strong survive, if I didn’t want to be hurt anymore, I had to become the aggressor.  A year or two after that I went back to my home country and joined the Imperial Army with support and encouragement from my own family.  One of my uncles had connections with the Cabinet, it followed that the political ambitions of the Ishikawa clan would benefit from a successful military career if I managed to achieve that.  So, I went through hellish training and had to prove myself repeatedly during the war, eventually rose through the ranks to become the Major Ishikawa you are seeing today.”  

“Why did you tell me all this?” The pilot inquired uneasily.  “Because I want you to know where I came from, El.  I used to be softhearted like you, I used to be a romantic, but reality put me back in my place.  Now I know, nothing lasts forever in this world, it’s survival of the fittest.  Power, dominance, and pleasure are what I’m after, and there is nothing wrong with that.”  The Kempei officer concluded emphatically, his right hand creeping up from the bound prisoner’s thigh to the soft skin below his navel underneath his flimsy white shirt, creating a wave of nervous spasms there.

The tense air in the car was disrupted when Seto pulled the vehicle into the driveway of a residence.  As he parked, Elvis looked out the car window at the nice British-style house shrouded in moonlight.   He regretted not paying more attention to how they got there and the layout of the surrounding neighborhood, but he could hardly be blamed given his antagonist’s disturbing invasion of his personal space.  This was a good-sized detached house quite far removed from the next home due to a large fenced-up backyard.  After getting out from the car, the party of three entered the garden directly from a side door, bypassing the main house.  They walked across a lawn and passed between some overgrown rose bushes, coming to a small two-story brick structure in the rear section of the courtyard.  Elvis guessed this little dwelling was probably originally designed for a housekeeper or the occasional guests.  One sinister feature of this otherwise harmless looking guesthouse was that all the windows had been boarded up. 

As the three got in the door, they passed the laundry room which took up the ground floor, climbed the narrow stairs into the second story.  Ishikawa lighted two kerosene lamps, while explaining he and his wife had been staying in the main house which used to belong to a British official before it was abandoned prior to Japanese occupation. 

“Mrs. Ishikawa??” Elvis repeated the title unwittingly, surprised by the existence of such a figure.  “Didn’t think I’d be married?” The Major sounded sarcastic, “Mizuki is her name.  She knows by now I’m more attracted to men.  I entered matrimony just to stave off constant urging by my parents and relatives.  Don’t worry about her, she knows not to disturb us here.  She’s a nice girl and a diligent housewife.  Her family owed us a large sum of money, so they needed this union to keep going.”

Despite the oil lamps, the whole place was dark and damp, feeling like a dungeon.  The floor plan included a small open kitchen area, a dining room, a bathroom and a bedroom with a large bed taking up most of the space. When Elvis’ hands were finally untied, they were so numb and weak he wondered if they were permanently damaged.  He was led to the round table in the tiny dining room and told to sit in a chair.  The host then offered him a glass of water, pointing out that his lips looked chapped from dehydration. When the young man almost dropped the glass as he tried to raise it to his uniquely curvy lips, the Major stood up, took the glass from his hands and tried to feed the water to him.  In the blink of an eye, Elvis leaped out of his seat and head-butted Ishikawa hard in the stomach.  The Japanese officer was caught off guard and stumbled for a moment, but quickly recovered and chased after the daring prisoner.  The pilot made a run for the door after the surprise attack, but he fell across the floor almost right away as his shackled feet couldn’t keep up with his body.   He crawled forward in desperation, but it was all over when Seto almost crushed him with his full weight just before the American could reach the door.    

“Well, that really took the cake for stupidity.  Even for you, El!” Ishikawa loudly reprimanded his non-cooperative subject as the latter was pulled up from the ground by Seto.  The Major sounded a little out of breath, clenching his teeth from lingering pain as he clutched his midsection.   “What did ya expect? You think I’d let ya have your way with me without a fight??”  As usual, the fearlessness in the young man’s voice and demeanor was impressive. 

“I figured you might need taming, but you’ve just made it a lot harder for yourself!” The irate Kempei officer signaled the physical therapist with his eyes.  Subsequently, the latter helped Ishikawa strong-arm Elvis to the bedroom and strapped him to the bed securely.  The sight of the gorgeous prisoner finally tied down to his bed and spread out for him awakened a flood of instincts and desires within the intelligence officer.  He could barely contain his lust as he quickly dismissed Seto so that he could be left alone with the object of his wet dreams.

“Here we are, in our own little world at last!” The excitement in the Major’s voice was palpable.  The blue-eyed airman felt like a mouthwatering piece of dessert he could swallow up whole.  “Just how many allied soldiers have you violated like this, you scumbag?” the incapacitated pilot suddenly questioned while Ishikawa proceeded to cut open his clothes with a pair of scissors.   “Watch your mouth or you’ll regret it in a minute!!”  The Major warned in response to the profanity, then paused for a bit, apparently debating if he should provide an actual answer.  In the end he conceded: “Alright I guess I owe the truth to you.  I had taken two prisoners and held them here in the past.  But it was different because both of them did agree to have sex with me.  Each of them had also divulged military secrets to us during interrogation.  I think they would do anything as long as their lives were spared…”  “So, what did you do to them?” Elvis interrupted the Japanese officer rather loudly, eyes glaring at his face. 

Giving a nonchalant shrug, Ishikawa replied: “So I used them to satisfy my physical needs, and then I disposed of them when I got tired of them.  I buried them under the rose bushes in this backyard.”  “What?!” Elvis yelled, extremities straining against the ropes instinctively.  “You are a psychopath and serial killer if I ever saw one!”  The Kempei officer yelled back without missing a beat: “They deserved it!  Those two betrayed their own country, there should be no mercy for traitors!”  “That does not change the fact you are a cold-blooded rapist and murderer!”  Memphis Flash wouldn’t back down, pointing out the undeniable.

“Looks like you’ve forgotten that you are still in my hands!  What you need is a little help with quieting and calming down!” Before the last word had been spoken, the domineering military man took out a roll of masking tape from a drawer next to the bed.  Disregarding objections from his victim, Ishikawa taped his mouth shut.  As the young man’s face began to turn a little red from hyperventilating and making muffled grunting noises behind the tape, the ruthless army man took out a clearly well-prepared pre-mixed syringe with needle and jabbed Elvis in the arm, injecting unknown medicine into a muscle there. 

The Flying Tiger continued to buck against his restraints despite the futility of it all, but only a few minutes passed by when he began to get drowsy.  The Major was now smiling and saying something, but the words sounded echoey and remote.  Elvis watched helplessly as the Japanese officer stripped him of all his clothes, arranging his limbs and torso in demeaning postures.  He watched with horror as the same vile man unzipped the pants of his Ninja outfit, freeing himself and proceeded to drill into his core with almost no lubrication or preparation.  The pain from the rear was deep and tearing, but dulled by unnatural sedation and an emptiness which was overarching.  He could see his body shiver and rock beneath the fiend who was attacking with savage energy.  A drop of tear fell from corner of his right eye despite attempts to hold it in.  Ambient white noise started to get so loud that it overwhelmed Elvis, his vision became more and more limited.  His eyes rolled up and darkness engulfed him at last. 

Elvis was standing on the bank of the raging Salween River, with wind blowing through his torn and ripped white shirt.  He needed to wash himself clean, that was the only thought on his mind as he stared despairingly at the torrent.  A couple of teeny, little hands grabbed a hold of him and tugged on his clothes.  When the sad-eyed young man looked down, he found two Chinese school boys and Wen Fang standing next to him.  The youngsters pleaded with him not to take the next step, saying he was their hero.  “Uncle Xiao Ai! My sister and I are waiting for you in Kunming.  Don’t leave us, you are my favorite pal!”  The Yang sister added, stretching out her arms in an invitation.  The pilot had no choice but to give in then, so he bent down and lifted the little girl up in his arms.  “Uncle Xiao Ai, will you sing us a song?  We love to hear you sing!”  She implored as she wrapped her arms around the tall American’s neck in a warm embrace.  “Xiao Fang, you know I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Elvis sighed, gathered his thoughts and chose to sing a slow ballad with gentle melancholy:

I saw the harbor lights They only told me we were parting Those same old harbor lights That once brought you to me. I watched the harbor lights How could I help it? Tears were starting. Good-bye to golden nights Beside the silvery seas.

As the serenade came to a close, Elvis realized he was no longer at the riverbank, and the kids had disappeared as well.  Instead, he was back in his own bedroom in Memphis, surrounded with the familiar pink decorations.  The Blue Moon Boys singer was crying in bed, with his head buried in a big Teddy bear.  Mama Gladys came in dressing like an angel ghost again: “Oh baby, don’t give up.  I know how hard it’s been for you, but believe me, help is on the way.”  Her only son raised up his head, looking back at Gladys with large teary eyes: “Satinin, s-sorry to let you down.  But I-I can’t take it no more.  My heart and soul had been shattered and crushed.  Maybe it’s best to end it all.”  “Don’t think that way, baby.” Gladys walked next to the bed, running her hand through that naturally splendid head of hair, massaging the young man’s scalp, “You gotta soldier on, and there’s a solution to everything.  Don’t forget, ending your own life is a sin.” 

“But you told me I’d already sinned for loving a man.  Sinning one last time can’t be that much worse.”  Elvis pointed out the incongruence in the logic, not ready to change his course.  This was immediately met with disproval by his Mama, who slapped him lightly on the back as an admonishment: “Don’t you talk back to Satinin, and never second guess the fairness of God.  He works in mysterious ways.  Trust me baby, I need you to hang on.  There is light at the end of the tunnel…”

The next thing Elvis remembered was fronting the Blue Moon Boys in a dynamite gig in front of an exuberant crowd.  After the conclusion of the show, he and Scotty escaped the wild teenage fans and ran into the backstage dressing room.  They locked the door and kissed each other sloppily.  Scotty’s steely blue eyes lit up as he admired the naked body of his perfect lover, perching on top of the narrow vanity table, with clothes scattered on the ground in a semicircle.   The guitarist’s magical fingers aroused and soothed his pliant partner all at once.  Confident and in control, Scotty pulled the singer to the edge of the table, placing that pair of graceful legs over his arms, entering the younger man from below in a tight embrace.  Elvis almost burst into tears from the rush of warmth and intimacy that enveloped him.  His heart screamed in ecstasy, but his mouth was seized and occupied by Scotty’s zealous tongue, so only the odd moan was heard.  Finally releasing his mouth when both of them were out of breath, Scotty lifted his boyfriend off of the vanity top and flipped him over to face the mirror. 

Elvis bent over the countertop with his chest touching the cool wooden surface, he could feel one firm hand of his lover on his back pushing him down while his lower body was crowded in from behind.  Next Elvis’ hands were caught, and they were easily tied up behind his back with a necktie.  Experienced hands stroked him up and down sensuously, from his erect nipples to his narrow waist, not to mention the firm and shapely buttocks.  Warm lips peppered his lower and then upper back with little pecks, working up to the base of his neck.  Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Elvis as he felt a vicious bite there.  He couldn’t help but let out a scream after what felt like a beastly or a vampire attack.  Everything happened so fast, and it all went horribly wrong after that. 

“What on earth? Scotty, are you alright?”  Trying to get over his shock and understand what happened, the young singer asked his partner.  This was greeted with silence and a hand that grabbed his neck and choked it with brutal strength.  Another hand pulled his head up by the hair until he saw his own reflection in the vanity mirror a few inches away.  Pale and perturbed, the young man on the receiving end of this senseless battering finally caught a glimpse of the man who dealt it out.  “Scotty can’t answer you.  You are mine now, El!” The officer in Kempei uniform sported a malevolent grin on his face.   He turned his suffocating and defenseless victim over, licked across his chest and nipples, making his ill intent clear.  When Ken Ishikawa finally released his strangle hold on Elvis’ throat, the feisty young American spat right in his face: “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!! What did you do to my Scotty?”   

Without a flinch, the Major wiped the saliva from the side of his face with a handkerchief.  Unsheathing his katana, the officer showed the fresh blood on its sharp and shiny blade: “Are you sure you want me to answer the question?  Let’s just say you’ll never see your lover again.” 

“No way!  You liar!  Scotty is still alive!  I know it!”  Elvis went berserk at the ludicrous suggestion that his Scotty had been killed.  Completely disregarding the danger and deadliness of the Kempei officer wielding a katana sword, he kneed Ishikawa in the gut and tried to run despite his hands being tied up behind him.  That was when he felt a cold blade impaling him in the middle of the back.  He collapsed to the ground with blood pouring out and his life rapidly draining from him, the last thought on his mind before everything faded to black was: “Scotty is alive, he will be fine, I know it…”

[sunlessea]

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair. — ironegg

deathless / @londonfallen

he is so sick of listening to the masters of the bazaar, on horses of high, explain to him how much better it is to be a tyrant over dreaming of saints. how it is best to cover london in smog and blood, rather than light and life — for all a good sum of them claim to love london, they would bury it and its people if it meant keeping themselves above the very humans THEY infected with their blood like plague rats. there are times even he, in all his infallible kindness, wonders if he'd made a mistake ... if he was wrong to think that anyone could change, no matter how cruel, how tempestuous, how beastly. and deeper in his heart, he knows he still believes that they can, right from the one who shares his bed, all the way up to the vake who hunted them for sport. they could change. they could. he would give them that chance even if it killed him — and it very well might.

but there is a reason, ultimately, he has begun venting said frustrations to his own betrothed less and less, and instead seeking company of other friends when he required a shred of human empathy. he should know better, and it is silly of him, he supposes, to expect his spouse to support him in any manner when it comes to issues of morality.

"did i ask for your input?!" he snaps at irons without catching himself, and in the process, mr apples slams the bulk of his current manuscript down on his desk. it's loud, and the contents spread along the surface rattle against the force of it. he throws his chair back and stands up, rounding to face the bat with an uncharacteristically angry scowl. "when it's your turn to be back in my hot seat, i'll happily remind you so we can talk about the godawful prejudice you foster in your factories against caitiffs and thinbloods, and then you're surprised why i tell you to shove it whenever you want to teach me about the ventrue. until then, keep your mouth shut and be an evil bastard somewhere productive for you, not me! unless you've forgotten, i am your elder, you petulant brat—"

ah. there he is. right down to the upset furrow of his brow and clenched fists, he glares at it with near the exact same venom he'd faced his father down with, and all his blood relatives who had come after. cassius helsing, in the flesh, always there, never dead, but dormant. no matter how elysium changed, he would always be cassius at heart, the watchman at heart, the egg unhatching at heart. people could change, and he was no better proof than the overbearing, haughty, snobbish, and stubborn god he'd once been.

some pieces could never be destroyed, though, no matter how rarely they still came to the surface.

his anger dissipates so quickly in comparison to back then. despite a temper fanned by gods, he's never been the vindictive type. if he had been ... he probably never would've set fire to that life, to begin with. that anger turns to frustration, and then to hopelessness. he throws his pen down on his desk and then his hands up into the air in defeat.

"you're an asshole." he means all of them, but in the moment, he especially means irons. dealing with them is exhausting. emotionally, physically, mentally. he thinks he understands why, now, at least, people like adrien and even moriarty keep their relationships so closed off from the public, despite his own goals of penning them. it isn't exactly a fairytale among the masters, and while that made their love stories more passionate, it is also heart-wrenching, at times, to live out personally. he feels like crying, so in the end, he doesn't say anything else and just grabs the novel he'd been reading before trying to work and booking it with flat ears and drooped tail out of the room.

suffice to say, he'd quite like to be alone right now.

[plusultranumber1]

My Thoughts on Perfect Blue

This watch was definitely stressful. I enjoyed the fantasy psycho-thriller vibe to it, and it reminded me a little bit of American Psycho, but I did not care for some of the graphic scenes, even if they were fake or imagined. The film follows a pop-idol turned actress and her subsequent identity crisis as she deals with the pressures and serious dangers that come with fame. The film addresses issues of mental health and positive self image, as well as the decrepitness that can come from obsessive fan culture. The film questions the perceived realities that individuals can create from their subconscious, and the importance of being comfortable in one's own skin. 

A great deal of the conflict that arises within the film comes from Mima, the main character, and her struggle to accept herself and come to grips with reality. After leaving a career as a pop idol to pursue the risque lifestyle of an actress, Mima undergoes a psychosis that morphs into dissociative identity disorder, where reality and her subconscious combine to torment her. Mima is visibly emotionally and physically shaken from the pressure to perform well, and is consistently put into situations that dehumanize her and take advantage of her femininity. Mima represents the harsh lifestyle of celebrities who are pressured into doing things that they would not otherwise do under the guise that they must in order to succeed in their profession. On top of this, she is further influenced by a disturbing online presence that plays into her doubts about the life she lives. Mima eventually overcomes this nightmare by confronting her tormentor, and coming to the self realization that she is who she is. The film demonstrates that the power of having a strong sense of identity holds more value than the opinions of others. 

The film also highlights the startling extremes to which fan culture can go to achieve its means. Mr MeMania acts as one of the antagonists who stalks Mima’s every single move, and records it in an online forum. He uses his platform to speak for Mima, and spreads misinformation about how she feels toward her career. MeMania acts as an extreme example of an Otaku who has not separated fiction from reality, and is now attempting to bring his fantasies into fruition. Rumi, who was once Mima’s trusted friend and now turned psychotic killer, provides a glimpse of an insane case of identity crisis, as she tries to live through Mima’s career. She becomes so caught up in her life, that when things do not go the way she wants, she adopts Mima’s identity so that she can set things right in her own mind. Mr MeMania and Rumi provide two examples of individuals who have lost sight of reality due to their obsession.

[maglife17]

Are You In Love? Part Three "Above all, keep loving one another earnestly since love covers a multitude of sins." 1 Peter 4:8 Love is a powerful emotion that unites us all. It transcends physical and emotional boundaries, allowing us to reach out to and understand each other in a way no other feeling can. The benefits of being in love are numerous, from increased happiness and mental well-being to improved physical health and longevity. Being in love brings about a sense of contentment that allows us to be our best selves. When we experience the joys of being loved by another person, it encourages us to open ourselves up emotionally and explore deeper connections with those around us. Loving relationships bring greater levels of trust into our lives, which translates into better communication between partners and increased self-confidence when facing life's challenges together. But, though we can say love is like a river, it ebbs and flows but never stops moving. In other words, It can be easy to focus on the beautiful moments of love, but it's important to remember that love never stops moving forward. So, while being in love can bring out the best in us, some challenges come with emotions that are so strong. 1 John 4:18 says, "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." These challenges may include feeling scared or vulnerable when sharing your feelings or facing disagreements with your partner. These are all natural aspects of a relationship; however, Jesus reminds us always to keep our hearts open no matter what happens. He emphasizes that true love comes from expressing compassion even when we don't always agree and understanding each other's feelings without judgment. Through this practice, we develop an unshakable bond that remains even when things get tough or uncomfortable. Remember, Just as the current of a river can take us to many different places in life, so does love. We must learn to accept change and make Godly choices that reflect our understanding of true love. Love can be positive and negative, depending on how we view it. On the positive side, it can bring peace and joy into our lives, while on the other hand, it can also bring pain and destruction if we choose not to use wisdom in our decisions about love. To truly understand what real love is, we must be willing to reflect on how God defines it for us. By doing this, we will find that true love brings lasting peace and contentment when applied correctly. Amen. Colossians 3:14 says, "And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony." Amen. Prayer: 1. Lord Jesus, let your love flow through my veins like a river. 2. God heal me from any wounds of past disappointments or rejections 3. I terminate every spirit of hatred that brings disappointment, failure, rejection, and divorce in your life. As a believer in Christ, I invoke peace and joy into your life now. In Jesus' name. Amen. https://maglife.org/

[storiesaboutrachelcarolann]

Updating my life!

It’s been a minute since I’ve wrote. A lot has happened in my life since I wrote the last post regarding my ventures, it’s been a crazy ride lemme tell you, but I wouldn’t have changed  anything about these past few years if I could. All and all it’s taught me who I need to become and not who I want to become.

God/ Spirit has stepped into my life in many many ways over the last few years to simply get my attention. It’s best to be described as boom, boom, boom and then bang lol. It’s basically been pretty much the tower in the tarot. Anything that hasn’t been built on a solid foundation has been wiped clean, it’s like a big flash of lightning comes down from the sky and cracks me open straight down the middle of my core being. This happened to allow for fresh starts to begin and ultimately major for major healing of my whole self. 

Change is hard to grasp sometimes as it’s different for everyone, but the main reason these tower moments keep happening is because a lot of us tend run and seek shelter in all the wrong places, with all the wrong people, etc.. the more we run from the inevitable or God/ Spirit the more he steps in and slams the breaks on, the more he’ll continue to put blocks in place such as the boom, boom, boom, bang moments it’s quite scary actually considering how powerful he really is. He is way stronger than any of us so here’s a bit of advice from this girl - listen the first time and stop trying to dodge the bullet so to speak it’ll be much easier in the long run.

There’s been many changes that have occurred and if I had listened the first time maybe I wouldn’t have had to have gone through so much emotionally, mentally and physically, but sitting here really thinking about it I probably wouldn’t have changed it in anyway because it all shaped me into who I am today at this moment in time.

The challenges aren’t meant to destroy you, they are however meant to show you how strong you really are when push comes to shove, when the path is dark and frightening never give up, that’s where you’ll find your strength to preserve forward and find out just who God/ Spirit really is. He has the ability to pull anyone from the ashes, but we all have to give him permission to, he does not just do it - we have to help him do so in all ways.

As many of you know I chose to put my horse down the end of September 2022, it was time. He was 26. I spent fifteen wonderful years with Chance and he lent me his wings for so long, he carried me through the fire of hell many times. It was time to give him back his wings because I had discovered I’d grown my own over the years. He’s still carrying me even though it’s no longer in the physical form I can feel him spiritually everyday lifting me up - as a reminder to never give up. Our journey together will never really have an end. 

In the morning of July 14, 2022 I had saddled him up for the last time, but I didn’t know that at the time. I went to mount and as soon as my butt hit the saddle I had the worst pain ever imaginable surge through my whole body, still to this day I don’t know how I managed to ever dismount and get back to the barn to make a call for help. It must’ve been God carrying me. Everything seemed to be getting better up until the middle of October of 2022, I was walking right up until the 31st which happened to be Halloween. A week or so later I was finding it very hard to walk, I was practically crawling. Mama took me to hospital two times and they didn’t do much at all, they gave me pills and sent me home. I was forced to get myself a wheelchair to make it easier to manoeuvre around this house. I was sent for a series of tests.The MRI results showed what was going on, I have a whole bunch of “little” things going on, but the biggest problem of all is a herniated disk which is beyond severe, it’s located right above my butt crack, it’s cutting off nerves in my back which is causing me to not be able to use my legs as I once did. It’s like they are rubber noodles. I am waiting to see a surgeon in the city, hopefully that will happen soon so I can get my feet fully underneath me once again. I am stuck taking many medications for the time being which makes me feel like s*** if I am being honest here lol. 

The series of events that I’ve been through just in the last year had really made me question God in a lot of ways, but sitting here right now writing this for all of you who will read this in the future I am going to call it “divine intervention” in a multitude of ways. It’s as if I wasn’t listening, I wanted change and I asked for it, I even screamed to God daily saying, “something has to give!” I knew something had to give, but I didn’t expect to have to put my horse down or my cat Oliver “Fat Meow” down in such a short time. I knew there was more going on then meets the eye with both of them, my intuition told me so. 

Towers come into our lives to bring change, sometimes everything crashes and burns to the ground, but that’s so we can all start over in whatever way is fitting for each and everyone of you. All of our situations are different. My eyes are more open than they’ve ever been before my perspectives have changed on a lot of things in a few short months. In a few short days it seems I have gone from feeling sorry for myself to embracing this obstacle and I’m seeing it in a new light. It has changed my way of life. I have gone from being independent to having to rely on others to help me. This has forced me to ask for help, this has really shown me in my circle of friends, family members, who’s really got my back when I am in the dark. I’ve seen the light and the dark, but I am choosing the light from now on and what no longer serves me is being let go of it is being removed, God’s stepped in so I am able to find that sense of peace and fulfilment that I deserve.

I hope that everyone at some point can see the good in the bad, it’s always there, sometimes it’s found in the darkness in which many of us are scared to walk through. At some point you’ll be forced to do so, you’ll be forced to have a real good look at yourself and you won’t be able to run away from what you’ve always ran from. God steps into our lives in many ways, God has the reins, he’s  steering the ship and going forward we’ll have no control what so ever. Accept that! Go with the flow you’ll be so glad that you did. It’s way easier trust me. You’ll find your light in the pitch black I promise you. I am not saying everything is going to be easy from here on out, but if you can just be patient, wait it out and do what God/ Spirit is asking you to do right now. You’ll discover vital information, this includes everything from coping mechanisms for overcoming anything that will be placed in front of you as an obstacle, etc.. 

There are rewards for those who never give up! You’ve got this! You’ll be okay! Remain strong my friends, keep fighting - find your strength that has been buried by the Devil for so long. It’ll be found in the rubble (the darkness).Darkness will not go where there’s light! Remember that!

Yours truly,

Rachel Smith 

The Coastline Intuitive (on Facebook)

The Empress and her grand rise!