#like i'm sorry but this reads like you would've been way less nice if you couldn't call me sir without misgendering me

[transyashiro]

sir... why are we reblogging literal children on an nsfw blog?

like, its not your art and its certainly not suggestive, but like... this is specifically a nsfw art blog... it just feels... like kinda weird? idk maybe its just me reading into everything too much but like......... its weird :/

anon, with all due respect, you are reading too much into it. yes it's mostly a nsfw blog when it comes to my art, but i reblog a lot of sfw art by other people if i think that it's something my followers will enjoy (usually sapphic and/or trans art). like, genuinely, what's the issue here? "it feels weird" did all the other sfw art feel weird to you? more importantly, what's the harm here? the original artist gets a bit of a boost, more people get to see some joyous trans art, that's all. not sure what you want me to do with your discomfort, because it feels like you're either assuming bad intentions on my (or my followers?) end or have some weird ideas about what my blog and it's purpose are

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[orteil42]

some undifferentiated thoughts about my Starfield playthrough as i have them. i am a game developer with a strong interest in procedural generation and i've enjoyed a bunch of other bethesda games so this might get pretty mean sorry

(this is a long one)

starfield dialogue is already exhausting me "oh you must've been living under a moon rock ;)" get it! because they're in space! this would've been too corny for the Jetsons

there's a kind of cheap dusting of space theme over everything. the food isn't salmon but alien salmon. it's not seaweed but alien seaweed. cooking alien stir-fry. come on

cannot get over how clumsily the theming is handled. books, board games, weapon names revolve heavily around space. these people have been living on alien planets for hundreds of years yet have this unending sense of novelty about it. the game takes itself completely seriously but feels like it's attempting to parody itself

people's EYEBALLS are CLIPPING THROUGH THEIR EYELIDS

a woman is speaking to me in french. her accent is about as believable as her haircut

these are some of the worst reflection maps i've ever seen

next to nothing is interactive. you can sit in chairs and sleep in beds and that is about it. can't even drink from people's toilets. disgraceful

game helpfully crashes 5 seconds after i decide i should get some sleep. very handy!

my character has not said a single thing since i started playing. not one peep. this is an unmitigated improvement over Fallout 4 i'm so glad honestly

the more i poke around the big city the more the NPC quips feel like something out of gen-1 pokemon. can't get enough of this coffee :) this city is where it's at :) spacesuits are comfy and easy to wear

very strange sense of altered reality from the quest dialogue too. has anyone at bethesda met a person before? i move on to some mission that has me scanning wildlife on a faraway planet hoping this will, somehow, feel less alien than human conversation

just as with No Man's Sky, every planet is uniformly dotted with equidistantly-placed points of interest that you slowly make your way to (no vehicles besides your jetpack) which always turn out to be some cave or building identical to those you've cleared before

unlike with No Man's Sky, the seamless exploration is faked and the biodiversity is nil. you do get an impressive amount of raw loading screens however

the prefab bases and power stations found everywhere on planets seem to have very sparse, very specific slots for spawning consumables, which results in encountering some giant industrial installation in the middle of nowhere with, i don't know, a loaf of whole-grain sandwich bread just casually sitting next to it all proper. there is no breathable atmosphere here. who is eating this

planetary traversal is a CHORE. i am saying this as someone who loved Death Stranding

heinous "hold to confirm" buttons sprinkled in various flow-breaking places throughout the interface

enemy AI is abominable. nobody is pathing their way to get my ass. "must've been the wind" taken to the next level. an infant playing peekaboo has more object permanence

hoisting yourself up on ledges when jumping is…nice

companions randomly nowhere to be found. persists through multiple fast-travels and loading screens until, just as randomly, they pop back up

storage space is now limited! unlike in Fallout 4 and virtually every other bethesda game, your containers now hold a finite item capacity. god forbid we let the player have fun

baffling inventory UI. i imagine there's a mod out there that completely overhauls it the way SkyUI did for Skyrim. this should not be needed! how are your UIs getting worse a decade later!

scanning the precious few species inhabiting some dusty planet; one of them is this arching red root i've already seen several times before. my job done in this biome, i travel (read: teleport with a loading screen) to the polar region to find some other species. the first one i catalogue is the exact same red root again but this time it's named "boreas root" todd howard is a genius

some alien horror comes at me full fangs out. i hop on a pebble. obscenely, i am safe

procedural terrain generation beyond dull, impossibly unimaginative. these people have not had one critical thought on what makes a procedural world interesting. beginning to feel validated in my belief that only i should be trusted with proc gen. along with perhaps tarn adams

jokes aside this is making me feel genuinely insane. there have been excellent procedural generation techniques that produce compelling explorable maps for decades now. bethesda absolutely has the budget and know-how to do miles better than this yet somehow they just…do not? the same way Pokemon has decided to just no longer bother with their mainline games despite being the highest-grossing media franchise in history? hello? what is for real going on

some of the most cynical breadcrumbing i've seen in years. approaching some random cave and this person in space gear, who in the vast immensity of the infinite cosmos just happens to be snapping pictures right here, tells me more-or-less verbatim "if you like this place, you should see this other place" [other random cave has been added to your map.]

i do not like how good this makes No Man's Sky's gameplay look. it depresses me how much i have to hand it to No Man's Sky for at least not fucking up this bad. please stop making me wish i was playing No Man's Sky instead this is grotesque

i think i've exhausted my interest and patience for this game at the moment. i'll get back to the main story at some point and try some other systems ie. crafting and base-building to see if there's any engagement to be found but so far, my god. my god

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓/𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | pretty self explanatory LOL, paige soft launches you!!!! yippee! this was requested -> "HARD OR SOFT LAUNCH WITH PAIGE PLEASE 🙏"

─ warnings | pretty short, JUST CUTE FLUFF!! obvs some banter, playful arguing, idk just some pretty funny stuff nothing too insane!

─ taglist | my wcbb taglist is linked in my navigation, fill it out if you wanna be tagged!

─ ev's notes | YALL!!!!!!! send in some requests if yall would like! requests are open for rn

paigebueckers

Liked by nika.muhel, kamoreaarnold, uconnwbb and 239,674 more

paigebueckers | no bad days ☀️ june 15th, 2023

View all 10,382 comments

yourusername [PINNED] | i wonder who that is?? 😛

↳ paigebueckers my best friend duhhh 😘🤞🏼

↳ yourusername don't play with me like that.

↳ paigebueckers i'm sorry no it's my beautiful girl 💁🏻‍♀️💅🏻

user003 | THE GIRLS WON!!!!!!!!!!!!! BEST PRIDE MONTH EVAAA✌🏼✌🏼

user662 | PAIGE???? HARD LAUNCH????

↳ user882 would not expect any less from our drama queen

↳ user129 people need to learn the difference between hard and soft launch🫠

user005 | fucking KNEW ITTTTTTT.

kamoreaarnold | where is the photo creds??? a tag woulda been nice 🙄🙄

↳ paigebueckers which pic

↳ kamoreaarnold the last one? 😑

↳ paigebueckers then people would've thought i'm dating YOU

↳ kamoreaarnold wait THATS supposed to be a hard launch?? 🤣🤣🤣

↳ paigebueckers NO a soft launch

↳ yourusername guys r you forgetting that ur arguing on social media? like everyone can see .... 😶

kamoreaarnold | HAPPY PRIDE MONTH

↳ paigebueckers wait a second i just realized that😭😭

↳ kamoreaarnold SO THAT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE? 😭

azzi35 | how many letters in LESBIAN?

↳ paigebueckers seven but I SEE WHAT U TRIED TO DO THERE 😭🩷

↳ yourusername ATEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

↳ azz35 LETS GOOOOOOO🥳🥳

user987 | knew she played on the same team

↳ user871 wdym she plays for uconn?

↳ user790 GIRL😭😭

nika.muhel | my fav girls 🥹🫶🏼

↳ paigebueckers love you twin🥰🥲

uconnwbb | paige is finally LOCKED IN🫡

↳ paigebueckers DON'T TALK TO ME IM MARRIED💍💍💍💍

↳ yourusername mrs bueckers sounds perf 🥹

↳ paigebueckers WHEN SHE TAKES YOUR LAST NAME🤗🥰🫶🏼

user121 GOOD😭😭😭 FOR😭😭😭 HER😭😭😭

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hollybell51]

Don't bet on it

Navigation

Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?” 

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful. 

“(Y/N)?” 

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine. 

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?” 

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?” 

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added. 

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.” 

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.” 

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression. 

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly. 

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once. 

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink. 

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily. 

You smiled. “Lemonade.” 

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently. 

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter. 

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly. 

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.” 

Despite yourself, you laughed. 

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.” 

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.” 

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment. 

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left. 

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them? 

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.” 

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it. 

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you. 

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing. 

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing. 

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him. 

“It is.” 

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.” 

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.” 

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright” 

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking. 

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you. 

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.” 

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?” 

“No, we’ve got two singles.” 

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.” 

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.” 

“I know, but–” 

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.” 

“What’s that supposed to–” 

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.” 

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed. 

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?” 

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.” 

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant. 

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now. 

“Would you like some help?” 

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you. 

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.” 

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched. 

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault. 

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab. 

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly. 

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.” 

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.” 

“Should I keep going?” 

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad. 

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead. 

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.” 

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.” 

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you. 

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?” 

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer. 

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).” 

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. 

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his. 

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade. 

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound. 

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright. 

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it. 

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.” 

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses. 

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing. 

He looked up, frowning. “What?” 

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.” 

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes. 

“Is this alright?” he asked. 

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside. 

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive. 

You nodded. “Are you?”  

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters. 

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused. 

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips. 

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering. 

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.” 

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…” 

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed. 

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.” 

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.” 

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away. 

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?” 

He nodded. 

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?” 

“Please,” he murmured. 

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him? 

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him. 

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed. 

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.” 

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?” 

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked. 

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.” 

He stared. “Do you want to?” 

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath… 

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?” 

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.” 

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you. 

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life. 

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?” 

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?” 

“Mhm.”  

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that. 

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful. 

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake. 

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.” 

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning. 

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before. 

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to. 

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that. 

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out. 

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…” 

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled. 

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.” 

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes. 

“Mhm?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?” 

“Yeah, alright.” 

“Alright?” 

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.” 

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip. 

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat. 

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?” 

You smiled. “Magic word?” 

“Please,” he practically growled. 

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute. 

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–” 

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.  

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.” 

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade. 

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely. 

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair. 

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.” 

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless. 

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.” 

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright. 

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face. 

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting. 

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?” 

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?” 

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.” 

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.” 

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning. 

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath. 

“Is this alright?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Mhm.” 

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body. 

“Mhm.” 

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most. 

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.” 

“I want you to feel–” 

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?” 

“But I’m–” 

“Cas.” 

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch. 

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you. 

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.” 

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy. 

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit. 

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves. 

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked. 

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Yes, Cas, just like that.” 

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.” 

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly. 

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good? 

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully. 

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps. 

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?” 

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing. 

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said. 

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you. 

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine. 

Cas froze immediately. 

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.” 

“Is this not–” 

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs. 

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small. 

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face. 

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.” 

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.” 

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged. 

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable. 

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.” 

“I don’t want to squash you.” 

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.” 

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?” 

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out. 

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.” 

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed. 

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock. 

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours. 

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?” 

He swallowed, his eyes dark. 

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.” 

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide. 

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time. 

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?” 

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name. 

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.  

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that. 

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs. 

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!” 

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra. 

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer. 

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm. 

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment. 

“Hm?” 

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.” 

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.” 

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be. 

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch. 

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat. 

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed. 

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?” 

After a moment, he nodded. 

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again. 

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.” 

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?” 

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty. 

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.” 

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.” 

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him. 

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much. 

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile. 

“Hello.” 

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” 

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.” 

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.” 

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully. 

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…” 

He waited, watching you stumble over your words. 

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely. 

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.” 

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang. 

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen. 

“What do you want?” you growled. 

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?” 

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.” 

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?” 

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked. 

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden. 

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam. 

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt. 

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.” 

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”  

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.” 

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question. 

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier. 

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point. 

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!” 

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. 

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing. 

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.” 

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam? 

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck. 

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.” 

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. 

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?” 

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything. 

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.” 

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.” 

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.” 

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared. 

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.” 

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.” 

“No? Who else?” 

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now. 

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.  

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.” 

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all. 

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas. 

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.” 

“No, I mean–” 

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.” 

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?” 

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug. 

Cas frowned. “Told him what?” 

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!” 

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.” 

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?” 

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas. 

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.” 

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.” 

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?” 

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.” 

“Mhm, back at Stanford–” 

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.” 

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.” 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.” 

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly. 

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back. 

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.” 

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Clingy 🔞 [Part 1]

In which Jungkook is a professional hybrid heat-partner who just wants to do his job.

Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Wolf hybrid!Jungkook, Otter hybrid!Reader, Angst, strangers to ???

Additional Chapter Warnings: mentions of sex work, we're starting with slight Angst, conflicting feelings already oof

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook is someone who's learned to read a person's character simply by looking at the way their apartment looks like.

You're a little chaotic, but it seems that you do have a certain way of organizing most of your things. Despite the small size of your living space, it feels spacious enough and very much like a home, much different to his own home, he feels like. It smells nice, too - faint traces of a past dinner and clean laundry, mixed with fresh air you're letting in currently through an opened window near your small open kitchen. "I'm sorry it's so messy I- uh, didn't.. I don't know. I couldn't really clean up well-"

"It's completely fine, don't worry. It's normal in your state." He reassures calmly, letting you know that he's pretty knowledgeable in terms of hybrid heats - male as well as female, that is. It's his job, after all - and he's one of the best in his company. You've only gotten the chance to book him because there's been a small flue wave going around in the company, rendering most lower rated and 'cheaper' partners unavailable. He's basically not supposed to be here, but considering you've booked weeks ago, the company had no choice but to give you an alternative.

So instead of a fellow otter hybrid, you're going to spend it with this.. very tall and clearly-out-of-your-league-attractive wolf hybrid. Not what your personal choice would've been, but right now, the only other option would've been to cancel entirely, which would've ended in you probably being sent to hospital instead.

And no one likes to spend their heats there.

"..uuurgh still, I don't like this." You fuss around, clinging onto a round pillow as you walk around and adjust more blankets on the pull-out sofa. It's clear to him that if the circumstances hadn't changed like this, you would've never met him in the first place. He's not one to judge by monetary wealth, but its very obvious that you're not the kind of clientele he usually deals with.

First of all, you're his age, just a little younger. He typically deals with women well into their thirties at least- something that never bothered him, but also something he's never quite realized until now. He's not only a heat partner, after all- he also provides company for dinners and other activities of non-sexual nature. 'Arm-candy' like most women would call him.

Secondly, you're clearly not used to having visitors. Much less heat-partners; he's read from your paperwork given by the company to him, that you've never booked with his agency prior to a few weeks ago, and that you've put a cross into the 'Inexperienced' line of the questionnaire. It tells him two things; you're not a Virgin, which takes a little pressure off of him, but you're also not very experienced when it comes to physical intimacy.

You've answered the papers online in a way that gives him a few rough clues as to what you'll need from him. Considering you're typically using suppressants, he knows you might not respond well to an overbearing partner. At the same time, most answers lead him to the conclusion that you will, however, enjoy someone who can take control over the situation and lead you with calm and soft dominance.

Looking at you, nervously nesting on all fours with your arm still clutching the small pillow, he is almost sure that he will enjoy it this time as well.

You're cute - there's no other more fitting word to describe you with for him. Fluffy socks, hybrid tail wagging every now and then, and tiny bear-like ears between your hair moving around with no pause, making him watch you with amusement. He's done a little research on otter hybrids to prepare himself, and to say that he's gotten curious to meet you would be an understatement.

Your kind is rare in the first place - only a few hundred remaining around the world, and most of them are male, not female. Female otter hybrids prefer a mate of the same species, but male otter hybrids aren't very social and, most of the time, aggressive when it comes to physical intimacy. They don't stay with one partner, are prone to infidelity, and do not do well with kids. So most end up with a partner of a different species - and otter genes aren't very dominant, so the resulting child most likely won't gain the mother's hybrid-side.

It made him pity you a bit- the fact that you'll most likely never have a child that looks like you, or that you were willing to spend your heat with someone of the same species for comfort even though you know of the dangers and downsides of it. Maybe that's why he's made sure the company didn't change him for someone else as the alternative. Something about you got stuck in his head - an odd need to at least have someone take care of you properly once in your life because everyone deserves that.

"Its small, isn't it?" You wonder, sitting in the middle of your 'nest', eyes glimmering as you watch him walk closer, putting his bag down close to the bed. "This must be so awkward for you." You chuckle dryly, emotions all over the place due to your pre-heat.

"Absolutely not. Your home is very welcoming and inviting." He reassures, eyes careful to take note of any change in body language so as not to make you nervous. It's a habit, trained into him by now, to make sure customers will be happy with his services at the end of the day. But maybe this time, it's not just that. Something about you, your scent, your behavior.. makes him feel oddly protective, almost.

He blames his alpha-genes.

"You have to say that." You mumble more or less to yourself.

"Hm, maybe, but I mean it too." He shrugs, taking off his jacket before he puts it over his bag. His scent hits you like a wave, making you visibly shudder - something he seems to notice with a small smirk of his, amused, yet you yourself hide more or less in embarrassment. "You're very cute." He comments, and you growl, nose crinkling and tiny canines showing for a second-

Something that makes him laugh, for the first time in a while actually makes him laugh out loud, because that's the least threatening and simultaneously most adorable attempt at intimidation he's ever seen in his life. His tail wags behind him, smacking against the covers, but it makes you smile most of all, something he decides you should do all the time.

You're such a fresh change of the overpriced dinners and millionaire mansions he's been experiencing up until now.

"Okay so, I uh, don't like that position where I'm facing down, but also please don't stare because that'll make me nervous, and I have to hold something all the time because if I don't I get anxious and-" you ramble, and he puts a reassuring hand on your bare thigh, something that sends an odd feeling into his own core, your skin so fucking soft and warm underneath his fingers that he cannot help but let them move around a little bit, thumb running circles.

"I've read your questionnaire and everything. Don't worry about a thing, okay?" He tells you, and you stare for a moment, before asking.

"Are those real?" You wonder, reaching out to tap the silver balls from his piercing on his eyebrow, making him chuckle again. Your mind is clearly all over the place at this point, but he doesn't mind one bit.

Because you're honest. You don't try to impress him, or instantly use him with no hesitation nor thoughts for him.

"They're real. This one too." He explains, pulling on his lip ring for a second. Your eyes widen a bit, thoughts of what it might feel like if you'd kiss him filling your head- but that's a rule you'll have to keep in mind. That's what's been written in his limits.

His description had intimidated you quite a bit at first. Marked down as someone with 'hard dom and sadism experience' made you worry at first, especially after reading about all of his kinks, likes, and preferences. Edging, shibari, orgasm control, size kink, or other intimidating words like manhandling or primal play. Googling these terms made you delete your browsing history immediately after; pictures and videos still in the back of your head. That, combined with the fact that he's tall and athletic and so much more experienced, just filled you with nervousness, to say the least.

But his limits were something that confused you.

Kissing had been at the top of the list, right above things such as praise and pegging - the last being another thing you had needed to search up on the internet.

"Have you eaten yet?" He breaks you out of your thoughts, cheeks reddening as you realize you must've stared at him for a full on minute at least by now, but he doesn't seem to care much about it. "We might want to do that before your first wave hits." He reminds you, and you nod.

"Yeah.. I mean, No- I mean no, I've not eaten, and yes, we should do that." You stutter out, and he nods with a gentle smile. You wonder if he has a girlfriend. The description said no, but he might just not want to declare that publicly. You can't imagine someone like him being single, if you really thought about it. But then again, he could also be a total asshole if he wasn't working, which this is to him.

Work. It's his job. Get yourself together.

"I can just.. have some snack or something. No need to cook." You tell him when he walks towards your kitchen area.

"You need something proper, though. You mentioned that your longest heat was almost two weeks." He gently scolds, looking back at where you're sitting in your nest. "Nutrition is important. You'll need all the energy you can get."

It all reminds you that in maybe just a few hours, your first wave will hit. You'll be completely under his mercy, body aching to be ruined by him, and it all kind of hits you at once. He's here to have sex with you, and he's done it to many before you. His actions aren't one of kindness- they're simply customer service so to speak, no actual emotions behind them. This man is simply good at his job, good at acting the part of a good companion- but down the line, as soon as your heat ends, he will not care.

Just like everyone else.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should've taken your suppressors. You don't even know why you took Seokjin's advice to stop using them. "Hey." He coos suddenly, sitting next to you on the nest where he looks at you with mild worry. "Can I touch you?" He wonders, and you shrug before nodding. It's not like that'll help you in any way - and neither will he hurt you. His rating would be badly affected by that. He brushes away your hair before seemingly measuring your temperature simply by feel, clicking his tongue quietly. "Already slipping, hm?" He softly states, and again, you only shrug.

Depressive thoughts and feelings can happen to females who suddenly stop the use of suppressants. Messing with hormones is never a good idea, and these medications do exactly just that - creating an imbalance if taken too often, which seems to have been the case with you. Jungkook makes a mental note to be extra careful with you in that case so as not to send you into an episode. Having you drop would be more than stressful for the both of you, and he intends to make this a good experience for you.

Not just for his ratings, but for you.

But he can also only do so much. He can't get too close, can't give you the impression that this is anything but business to him, because that would just be cruel to you. He won't present himself as anything more than what he is; someone you paid for, someone who will ease your pain during your most vulnerable time, someone who's job it is to make you feel good during all of this.

He's not someone to fall in love with. He himself knows he's tainted, dirty. His body is stained with the past touch of all of these people he's entertained, and while he doesn't see anything wrong with his work, he also knows how it's viewed by the general public. He's chosen this himself, and he's fine with it all - but someone like you who seems so kind and friendly should not think of him as a potential lover.

His love would only corrupt you.

"We can order something quick and easy. But you need to eat, okay?" He carefully tells you, watching as you just let yourself fall to your side, clinging onto the pillow in your arms until you stubbornly shake your head.

"M' not hungry." You mumble muffled into the pillow, but he won't have that, as his hand pulls it down.

"Maybe you do not feel hungry right now, but you are." He tells you with a stern gaze. "I've heard your tiny little tummy roar like a lion just a few minutes ago. You don't get to fool me." He jokingly scolds, and you pout at him defeatedly, pushing against his thigh with your socked foot - one he catches by the ankle. "Are you going to be a brat with me?" He tries, and your eyes glimmer with mischief at that. "I thought you'd be such a good girl, but look at you. I'm almost disappointed." He sighs, leading to your eyes widening as you quietly look at him with an expression he knows would melt anyone's tough intentions.

He himself knows he wouldn't be able to say no to you at any given time if you'd shoot him a glance like that.

"Maybe if you share a meal with me, I'll be happy again." He sing-songs, amused by the way you're so easily controlled by his words alone. He wonders how you'll react later on when he's going to play your body like this. He just knows you'll be so deliciously responsive to the tiniest touch - writhing underneath him, happily receiving his care. He already has to think about all the things he wants to try with you.

Will he be able to push you around a little? He'd love to dominate you with more than just his words, that's for sure. If he could, he'd even bite; mark your body up, leave his own proof that he's been allowed to be this close to you at all. You'd squeak so adorably once he'd bite your neck while taking you from behind, pushing his seed as deep as it can go, filling you up-

He snaps out of it, fingers stilling where they'd been running over the soft bare skin of your thigh, your leg laid out over his lap by now as he'd been busy in his thoughts.

Jungkook used to believe in fate. In soulmates, true love, destiny, and karma - but nowadays, he's grown up. He knows most of that is a lie. People who stay together for life are the exception and not the norm, and families break apart over the smallest of arguments. The fact that he feels himself slip even just the slightest bit from his own control means nothing. It can't mean anything.

He won't allow it to.

You'll forget about him after this. You'll be just another person's dirty little secret, something you might be talking about when you're drunk in the future playing some game with your friends- but nothing you will ever openly admit, and he's fine with that. He knows that this is his place in the world and in society in general. He's okay with that.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, he worries.

Because your scent is already stuck in his head. Your mere skin already makes him crave more. The sight of you has his muscles weak.

He blames his alpha genes again.

Because that's easier for now than possibly admitting what might actually be going on.

[comfortless]

"held back by a leash that no one’s ever thought to untie, constantly growling and leaping at anything that gets too close just to simmer down to whimpering and begging the second he’s pet just once" ??? 😩 This is so real and relatable (I'm crying in the corner of my room). Lord have mercy, I need to kiss every ridge and groove on your brain.

The way I giggled when you mentioned his fleshlight is crazy. I was actually thinking of saying something similar but then I decided against cause the message would've been too long. I was trying to decide if he would be the type of man to get one of those insanely realistic sex dolls. Maybe he felt particularly desperate to have something in his bed (something that can't just get their clothes and leave before he wakes up) or he would just be curious. If he actually got it, by being impulsive, now he has this thing in his house and kind of regrets it. Yeah, it's soft and doesn't look bad, but it definitely doesn't look like a real woman either. It gives him the uncanny valley effect and puts it out of sight for now. How would he even get rid of something like that? Is it recyclable?

I've got brainrot when it comes to this man, I know. I might start reading Letters to Milena by Kafka so I can yearn more accurately for a man that doesn't even exist. This time I have no nice poems to quote but I feel like Konig is very much Sleep token coded. Idk what type of music you like but their lyrics are yummy.

P. S. Your fics are like vitamin D + Omega 3 getting me through this shitty British weather with my sanity more or less intact. Lots of consensual kisses!

oh my gosh and you are more brazen than me because i thought the same, just… kept that to myself!

if he has the money why would he settle on some little silicone tube when he could at least have something to cuddle up with, too? it isn’t like he has visitors often (or at all), though there are some nights when he definitely feels pathetic and disgusting for having it: haphazardly shoves the doll in the closet and settles for his hand instead…

also much to ponder in regards to his impulse control…! for the most part, he probably considers himself to be pretty rational; reasons with every decision by thinking well, x happened so then comes y. his dating life is shallow at best and utterly devoid of anything at worst, it’s… reasonable that he would have some sort of outlet, even if he knows that buying the damned thing has basically sentenced him to never having any sort of stable relationship. if some sweet woman actually gave him more than just the time of day, if she actually wanted to be with him but… she sees that mimicry of a woman’s warmth lying in his bed? she’s either laughing at him or immediately making up some excuse to leave. and if that happens, then of course he’s got to find a way to get rid of it. he’s tossing it in a hole in his backyard or burning it. sorry environment. this is König’s world now and the sex doll can no longer be in it..!

he would never pull something comparatively ridiculous in his career, maybe a few mistakes here and there but he plays a character when he’s König. and König is all menace or indifference, never the pitiful thing that gets so wound up over his own purchase he’s got to destroy it at all costs. though in the time that he did have it… the soldiers around him are certainly aware that he had some ‘girlfriend’ he spoke rather highly of at home that always had her legs open for him. he never seemed in higher spirits, though…

Letters to Milena is sooo quotable for him. i will give you this one: “Auch ist es vielleicht nicht eigentlich Liebe wenn ich sage, daß Du mir das Liebste bist; Liebe ist, dass Du mir das Messer bist, mit dem ich in mir wühle.”

i have an entire ridiculous playlist that is just… all over the place with songs that remind me of him, perhaps i will give Sleep Token a chance and throw a few onto it! ^^ i am always looking out for König-coded songs… Never Land by Sisters of Mercy is possibly my favorite to suggest when it comes to him. <3 the full length is my go to but - a fragment encapsulates it almost as well!

burying you in a world of hugs right now, anon! pleeease send your weather my way! it is HOT here! your messages are vitamin C and a lovely cup of earl grey to me! <3 i am glad that you appeared!

[quintenrosenburgwrites]

mirren sketches >:)

lyrics are from Mixed Messages and Red Flags btw

OH ALSO i wrote some dialogue stuff, see under the read more! warning for some humor that's way more nsfw than i'd usually post (i mean. come on. it's dialtown. they're awkward as hell. they're obviously gonna say something questionable /lh) also some more serious stuff (self hate issues, depression, anxiety)

Nice/Fun stuff:

- They say pretty much everything that comes to mind, and once they get a train of thought it doesn't take long for it to derail and crash through a small community, leaving a trail of destruction behind it. TLDR they're really rambly.

"Birthdays are kinda weird. Like obviously there's the whole counting down to your death thing, but also, like. You're basically celebrating the anniversary of you getting evicted from your mom's, uh. You know. Okay that sounded REALLY, extremely, UNCOMFORTABLY Freudian. Can we PLEASE pretend I never said that? Thanks. Oh, right, the murder case."

- They have a tendency to just accept things and move on without commenting further.

"Oh. You lay eggs. Anyways, can you help me break into the ticket booth? I need to check the entry records."

- They're a fucking dork /pos (They're really sweet, but in a convoluted way)

"I, uh, please don't think this is weird, but I made characters for both of us! This one's named May, and they're kinda a failure. They failed their parents, they failed their old best friend, they failed their job. They used to think they had no redeeming qualities. Then, one day, they meet the other character, Ginger. Ginger seems terrifying initially, and even if it isn't obvious at first, they're not actually human. Ginger and May go on a journey in which May tries to learn magic in order to protect people and redeem themself for their past actions, even though they despise the idea of learning magic, but, eventually... Ginger helps them see their own value, helps May see that they're a person too. They are allowed to be selfish sometimes, they're just as worthy of happiness as anyone else. And, uh, maybe... Maybe that saved their life a bit. And maybe, May is allowed to do things for themself sometimes. Ginger means a whole lot to May, even if they have trouble expressing it, and... uh, I guess that's everything. Um. What do you think?"

Serious, bad stuff:

- They see very little value in themself, and tend to expect others to insult or make fun of them. To combat this, they typically are quick to insult themself, in an attempt to get there before anybody else can. It hurts less if they're the one saying it.

"And before you say it! I know it's super annoying when people are constantly insulting themselves, cause like it comes off as compliment seeking, right? I promise that's not what I'm trying to do, I'm just kinda trying to warn you I guess? But, uh, that's still no excuse, and I can totally just shut up if you want! Or, wait, I shouldn't have assumed it's annoying you, I could just be restating what you're thinking? I mean, the things I'm saying about myself aren't exactly incorrect- Just, let me know if I'm being annoying. I'd rather shut up than annoy you, haha. ha. Wow, that sounded fake."

- They tend to blame everything on themself, and act very self destructively.

"Oh god, this is all my fucking fault, I'm so sorry. It's okay if you hate me- or, no, you SHOULD hate me! Fuck, I'm- Why did you even talk to me in the first place?! Do you realize- If you just- You would've been better off if you just walked past me and ignored me! I need to- This is for your wellbeing, being around me is only gonna make things worse for you. I'll be fine, just- Don't follow me. I mean, I don't know why you would in the first place."

- They put everyone else before themself.

"I need to make it up to them, even if I ruin my life in the process. It's not like my life was looking particularly bright in the first place, which is entirely my own fault, so, y'know. Yeah."

[minevn]

SPOILERS

No need to worry! I read all your questions and they aren't stupid! I don't think any questions I get asked are stupid I love them all <3!!

First question! I guess it would be inevitable, Kei would HAVE to know about the existence of other players as Mine is a public game. I don't know if I can explain it well, but like au i guess. Like everyone who plays the game is the MC that Kei knows and loves, but he doesn't love everyone at the same time. I wish I was better at explaining it LOL. You're the MC in your universe and Kei wouldn't care about anyone else, but in another timeline someone else might be the MC. Sorry if this is confusing :( But no I don't imagine there to be multiple Kei's, but I'm also not against headcanon's since having a world full of Kei's sounds horrifying LOL

You could kill Kei technically, but you'd either have to completely get rid of every single computer, phone, anything that has a screen and internet would have to be destroyed. Or you have to be really good at computers in order to get rid of his code, but also Kei is constantly moving and won't let you delete him that easily! Yani could kill Kei and Kei wouldn't be able to come back, rather everything Mine was would just cease to exist, which Yani doesn't want since y'know they're kinda head over heels in love with you.

Yes! Kei could change his appearance in any way he wanted, he just likes his own appearance and with his appearance change something about Yani has to change as well which is annoying to Kei(Ex: eye color, hands, hair color, hair style, eye shape.)

Kei has always just been interested in Japan as a whole, it's someplace that he wants to visit with you if he can ever manage to get out of the damn computer.

Yeah that wasn't real, honestly I had always pictured the MC to be hard working, but maybe just above average in the end(I know in asks I've had the MC rank high on their exams, honestly Kei and Haruto would've most likely did that to assure you'd stay happy and confident.) It was just to give Kei a less suspicious reason for liking you. Kei likes you because he can SEE you and you were the first person Kei was ever able to see. He got endless entertainment watching you. He really doesn't care about the iq of his lover. Smart? Nice, he likes the challenge you bring him but he will always beat you, he's also pretty damn proud of you and would love to shower you in praise. Not smart? So cute, Kei just feels the need to protect you from the cruel world, he wishes he could bring you into the computer, or he could escape.

[cursedvibes]

If you're still doing the character ask, i'd like to see what you think abt mahito

I do! I just didn't have the mind to write long posts lately, so sorry this took a while. Thanks for asking about Mahito!

Sexuality Headcanon:

Pain. As long as someone is in pain, either him or ideally the other person, he's gonna be attracted to it. That's pretty much the only criteria that matters to him. Wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't even have much of a concept of gender, much less differentiates people based on it. If he can make them scream and if they can maybe even fight back a bit, he'll be horny.

Gender Headcanon:

Like I said above, I think he doesn't much care about gender. He prefers a humanoid masculine appearance, but I think if he has any gender it's as malleable as his appearance. His genitals or if he has any or not also changes based on his mood. It seems like most of the time when he's naked there is something between his legs that needs censoring (in the same way Takaba's dick gets censored), but that can change any time.

A ship I have with said character:

Mostly MahiKen. Can't resist mutual vore. But I've been having an eye on Mahito/Yuuji as well since S2 came out. I just like the pure hatred Mahito pulls out of Yuuji and how he makes him go almost manic, but also cold and ruthless. He shows us a very different side of Yuuji and makes him indulge in his darker impulses. At the same time I love how Yuuji can meaningfully hurt Mahito and legitimately make him shit his pants. This equal push and pull between them is really nice.

A BROTP I have with said character:

Pretty much him and the Curse Family. Couldn't pick only one of them, I love the whole group. They just wanted to have fun and be happy together *sigh* It is a bit questionable how much Mahito cares about them (they definitely care about him), but I think they are the closest to friends he has and he would've been the only one of them to survive, he would've missed them. They show us that curses can have positive emotions and form deep bonds as well.

A NOTP I have with said character:

Mahito/Nanami. I don't find Nanami is all that interesting and I especially don't like the way I see people ship this. They turn it from a fucked up and kind of interesting dynamic into strong macho business man/manic pixie dream girl. They really seem to want to make this as straight and bland as possible. Mahito gets that treatment a lot in ships for some reason. It removes his most unique aspects and what makes him so fun in ships.

A random headcanon:

I've seen a fanart I really like of Mahito playing with a child and then turning it into a transfigured human when lifting it in the air. I think he did something similar to the kids and maybe also adults at the playground where the curse family and Kenjaku hung out. Kenjaku would probably be a party-pooper and say not to make a scene, but Mahito would still somehow manage to cause chaos.

General Opinion over said character:

Love him. My favourite jjk villain after Kenjaku. I used to really hate him while reading the manga and especially Shibuya Incident for the first time, but I've come to really like him. His abilities are fantastic too and brought some great horror to the series that I'm honestly missing a bit at the moment. I think his ability to make the fanbase hate him this much also shows how well he serves his purpose. It can be a bit exhausting as a fan, but at least people are most of the time acknowledging how well-written he is.

[ubercharge]

im not sure if anyone asked you yet, but thoughts on the dunmeshi anime?

thanks for asking! sometimes i forget i exist here as a person cuz i just log on to queue random stuff without making posts 💀

it's pretty rare for me to watch an anime without ever reading the manga, and there've been stellar adaptations recently. ONK, kisekoi, BTR, frieren, CSM just to name a few. in a landscape where we're used to being disappointed as readers who have a frame of reference before watching a show, i had very, very high hopes for the dunmeshi adaptations that weren't quite fulfilled.

i'll dump everything under a cut since i actually have a lot to say, sorry if you were expecting it to be brief 😎

the lines in the artistic style are good, nicely translating the characters into animated format. really no notes there. definitely a nicer comparison for char designs between manga and anime vs. tonsuki and tensura who both have incredible manga styles that the anime stumble over (though in the latter's case, i don't think they were aiming for it sadly)

the shading has been fine, but weakened by the colour choices. some of the dungeon scenes (e.g., living armour stuff) are lit with a medium blue which helps to sell the idea of the scene being in a place not lit by fire (and contrasts it with the making camp & cooking scenes), but the lack of dark shading flattens some of these very well-drawn images.

the earlier chapters don't have the same level of detail as newer ones, but the art style is still fantastic - it's expressive with high contrast and shows action and impact perfectly well. manga will often times have a naturally easier way with contrast due to it being in black & white, but i don't think that means anime should just give up on contrast in favour of playing ineffectively with colour.

here's a night shot of fern from frieren. the choices made here allow for the shading to stand out from the flats and give her more definition overall while still being relatively simple (just flats + shading)

when dunmeshi has more "normal" lighting conditions, it does a lot better. similar to fern up there, there's about the same amount of difference between the flats and shadows, so i really wish they did a better job on the dungeon scenes since they're going to have to deal with non-torchlit scenes plenty. i won't argue that the living armor scene certainly has some kind of a sickly, alien mood to it, but tl;dr i think it should've had darker shading if not also being less green. this largely applies to every other blue-green lit scene they've done.

looking at kui's coloured drawings in the ed gives me an idea of what could've been and it makes me sad to lose out on colour choices more similar to that (even if they obviously can't have her level of detail on top of it)

some of the backgrounds haven't been too interesting but some have been good, overall it's probably fine. plus you can only draw and detail repeating bricks so many times before the viewer gets bored of looking at them anyway, i guess.

the animation is really fun and expressive. it's trigger, so they don't keep scenes stiffly on-model when they want characters moving around. this is good because it helps to sell both action and comedy moments!

the music overall i haven't really cared for? the BGM has not been particularly moving, interesting, or memorable - mostly generic. and i've seen too many fantasy shows for my own good, so i might be harder to impress (but i even remember tenken had a good BGM song or two to make a fight dramatic and that show was barely above average at best)

i'm biased not being particularly into bump, so i would've selected a different artist for the OP (i actually did like the bump OP from SxF though, come to think of it). before anyone makes a wisecrack based on what i've watched lately, no it doesn't have to be yoasobi.

i maybe feel the ED song would've been better for the OP, i don't like the largely peaceful bit of the OP with very still visuals. the OP is where you reel people in! it should be an eye-catching hook, representative of what to expect with some extra sauce on top.

the ED is great, total bop. it's a fine time for slower visuals as an enjoyable wind-down from the episode, so less or no animation is no big deal. plus kui's art is absolutely gorgeous! it all perfectly fits that "end of work" fun and lighthearted mood they were going for.

i largely enjoy the voice acting. i would've personally gone for a less "old man" voice on senshi because he's really not that old for a dwarf, but they obviously wanted to make it clear he was the older, wiser, knowledgeable character.

this might be my own personally most blasphemous opinion, but i would've picked a different VA for falin. i want to make it clear i absolutely adore saori hayami - she's incredible and one of my faves. with that said, her voice fits the character, so maybe it's just because i've heard her too often which is not her fault by any means! i love the voices for laios, marcille, and chil.

it seems netflix's subs go off of the official EN TL of the manga, which makes sense, but i've talked about how i don't like it more than ehscans' TL (which is one of the single best TLs i've read for a series, official or otherwise) and that holds true for the anime ("mad sorcerer" is cooler AND less clunky than "lunatic magician"). i prefer less localisation stuff and/or quirkiness in my subs and more direct translation for both manga and anime.

as for the changes/additions they've made to the show, some of them have been alright and some i didn't care for. they really want to sell marcille as the funny joke character which is why they had her being chased by the basilisk instead of having doni & fionil like it was in the manga which was better for the pacing and had good impact vs a funny clip of marcille running back and forth.

i don't dislike when adaptations add or change stuff, but placing them cleanly is important. dunmeshi is already really funny! i don't think it needs help being funnier by reaching for the cheap laugh. when laios sees two people running for their lives from a basilisk and he just goes "wow that's a bad way to run from that monster", it's already lowkey hilarious - all the more so followed by marcille telling mr. monster-know-it-all to go rescue them if he knows what's up and him rescuing them by making himself big and chicken squawking real loud (which embarrasses marcille and chil, but c'mon guys, at least his idea worked!). i feel like the comedy in laios' funny hero moment is undercut by forcing the marcille butt of the joke moment in the anime.

dunmeshi is already incredibly good at just about everything it does. i feel if an adaptation wants to add or change something, it's often better amplifying a strength or shoring up a weakness in the source material. BTR adds a lot to the source (not hard considering the source is a 4koma) and makes already funny things even funnier. the "we should all get social media" scene is elevated to iconic status with the visual of bocchi glitching out + the VA's inhuman screech. i can't say where i'd really want to change or add stuff to dunmeshi, since it really feels so good and whole, but i'm sure there's room in the process of translating manga panels to animated scenes, and i think the direction overall could've been better (comparing most shows to BTR isn't fair i know because BTR is directed & adapted so well it's hydrogen bomb vs. coughing baby territory)

i've mostly said negative stuff, but i don't want it to sound like i hate or even really dislike the adaptation. i think when it comes to a series you really love, you want to see the best adaptation possible within reason, and the disappointment of stuff not being quite what you were hoping for is amplified by so many other recent adaptations being so good.

dunmeshi does not have a bad anime by any means, but a lot of that is thanks to the source material's quality. if they do another season, i hope they have more time/budget/whatever because i think a lot of the parts it does have are good parts! but in this case, i wasn't hoping for good; i was hoping for great.

trigger makes great shows with wacky storylines (in some ways, the same one wacky storyline, but that's a different discussion) and dunmeshi, being directed by someone who's worked on a bunch of trigger stuff (largely sci-fi leaning), maybe needed some more direction from people who've worked on fantasy stuff? i can't say for sure what would've been enough to take the show over the top, but though i generally don't hope for much from adaptations, i really did have higher hopes for this one than it ended up achieving.

overall it seems i'll end up scoring the show a 7 or 7.5 when i finish the season, though there's certainly still room to wow us all. whatever you feel about the adaptation, whether you liked it or not, whether or not you've read the manga, feel free to comment your thoughts below or in my inbox. let's keep it free of manga spoils for anime-only watchers, though!

[here-comes-the-bard]

man my post from. yesterday or day before. is making me think like. i don't know what it would look like if yaevinn DID decide he was tired of being nice and just wanted to go apeshit. mostly because he's getting to the point of being like. yeah both is good tbh. i will be nice but if you fuck around you will find the fuck out.

he's very much a "my trauma did not make me kind, i made me kind. do not credit my abuser and oppressors for my kindness" person. his philosophy is something along the lines "the world was unkind to me and unkind to others, but why should i be unkind? if I didn't deserve it, neither do others. might as well be a light in a world of darkness". and honestly that's a big part of what makes him who he is. i cannot imagine yaevinn without it honestly.

but i think that's what makes it an interesting exercise. what would yaevinn be like if at some point (after asylum, it's important to note, as really that's The Big One and just kind of amplified the previous issue) he just said "being kind is exhausting and i'm exhausted so fuck this". because aside from the horrors i think it's genuinely exhausting for him to be kind in the face of unkindness. it is simultaneously an effort and an instinct for him. and it's fascinating to wonder what would happen if he not only gave it up, but just went in the opposite direction (because ngl if he just gave up on it as a whole he'd just. kinda vanish off the face of the earth and not interact with anyone).

the thing is, he wouldn't become gleefully cruel. in fact i think he'd actually really dislike it and dislike himself for it, but what else is he supposed to do? it wouldn't feel right, but it'd be all he knew because being "good" clearly wasn't working. i think he'd just feel so. empty. where his world now is filled with colors that can sometimes be overwhelming but that he wouldn't give up for anything, his world in an au where he actually gave it up would be so grey and bland that i kind of think it'd impact his mental health, to put it in a less rough way.

not sure whether he would've missed his calling as an assassin or not but considering he learned his archery and dagger techniques as self-defense i think there's a good chance he wouldn't have.

i think he would've kept a lower profile due to his shame honestly. would've gone from a little timid and anxious to nearly reclusive. wouldn't want let anyone see him like this because the feeling of being inherently bad would become a self-fulfilling prophecy. this is all he is. a monster is all he could've ever been. and yet, he does let people see it. because look what the world has done to him. how can you hold good in your heart when the world has done nothing to return it. he'd see himself in it, and he'd see it as pathetic because of that.

i just like. fr the thing is i think he'd have this constant feeling that it wasn't supposed to happen this way. he wasn't supposed to be like this, and yet there's no other path.

and he doesn't even know that there was. and he could've seen so many beautiful things if he'd kept the kindness in his heart. but how could he? why would he?

i honestly think it's something like this post tbh. just crushed under the weight of his ideals because upholding them broke and splintered every single fucking bone in his body. i might have fundamentally misunderstood the post but isn't art less about what you put into it and more about what people get out of it or something like that.

anyway sorry if you read this whole thesis, be sure to like comment and subscribe for more content that makes me kinda glad i didn't make him worse. i'm gonna make either a pinterest board or a section in his pinterest but considering he is schrodinger's Fundamentally The Same Character (both is and really isn't) i'm not sure. uhhh this is a fun character exercise if you wanna do it. it doesn't have to be an essay tho this is just how i get out my thoughts. ok bye

[genericpuff]

One thing that has always irked me about LO is that Smythe will more or less sideline or otherwise forget plotlines.

Like, I hate that this latest FP chapter was a bland wedding (where Persephone wasn't able to even choose/create her own dress??? I'm sorry, that makes me so mad. She's just a doll for everyone to dress up with no agency whatsoever. If instead of Hera giving her the "perfect dress," she showed Persephone a selection of dresses, and Persephone picked one out and modified it to be dark magenta/black with her signature crown and chose to make her eyes red, that would've been better. At least then one could argue this chapter served to show Persephone's growth in terms of taking ownership of herself. Smythe could still insert Hera into the scene but then at least Persephone would have a say in HER wedding).

If Smythe absolutely HAD to have HxP get married immediately just to spite Demeter or whatever, I wish she would have inserted a scene or something with Apollo and Leto hearing about the wedding and realizing their plans were foiled or that they'd have to come up with a different way to overthrow Zeus, maybe even incorporate that espionage thing Psyche has going on, or even better, have a Demeter-centric episode in which we see more of her backstory when she hears about Persephone marrying Hades immediately, structured so that we hear her internal monologue while she mourns and fears for her daughter's well being and we see the beginnings of winter. (Not that I trust Smythe with Demeter or her story, but still.)

Like. Somehow Smythe managed to make HxP's relationship the most boring part of the retelling, and this wedding episode was a testament to that. It literally had no substance, nothing new was added, and the story was not advanced in a meaningful way. I highly doubt their dynamic or anything is going to change either. It's just now they're contractually obligated to each other? (Another point of contention. This is Ancient Greece... Smythe couldn't have bothered to google Ancient Greek wedding traditions and incorporated elements from whatever popped up first in the search? I know this is supposed to be "modern" but that increasingly feels like an excuse to just not do research (using that term here loosely).)

I feel like Smythe truly doesn't care anymore, and I think she's just winging the plot and story at this point. (I'm not sure if anyone feels this way, but if I reread the first few chapters of S1, I feel like LO was supposed to have a completely different trajectory and we only got here by accident.) This comic could have been so good and interesting, and it's just disappointing.

I know this ask is already pretty long, and I appreciate you taking the time to read it. I just want to add one last thing.

Your Lore Rekindled?? Amazing. Top tier. Chef's kiss. I love your interpretation of Dionysus, and I LOVED how you ended Ep5 with Persephone calling Hades terrifying. Like. So good. So excited to see where you take Rekindled. Thanks for being the hero we need as LO becomes an even bigger trainwreck with each passing week. You're awesome, and I hope you have a nice day 😁

That's the thing, I would have been fine (still a little upsetti, but I could cope) if LO went for the "Persephone was trying to get away from her mom and the Mortal Realm" take. Because it can come with the positive of having Persephone and Hades' relationship be consensual (even if it ends up being at the cost of her relationship with her mother, considering the fact it also requires the endless winter it's pretty much unavoidable LMAO). But like... it's the fact Rachel can't write anything consistently and will randomly retcon shit or dial the mildest character traits up to 100000 with NO consideration for motives or intentions that boils my piss. It's incredibly manipulative writing and the more it happens, the more I start to get the sense Rachel doesn't have a lot of emotional maturity herself to understand other people's perspectives outside of her own. I know that's probably a harsh assumption to come to but it's hard not to come to it when she keeps doing shit like this (as Demeter isn't the only one in LO to get this treatment). Rachel will basically just make her characters do whatever she thinks needs to be done to get her audience to feel a specific way about them. It's like a lawyer asking leading questions, it's manipulative and cheap writing.

And honestly, that's LO's worst crime among everything else - it's boring. I can handle stories that are spicy around the rim, I can handle problematic protagonists or otherwise plotlines that would NOT fly in real life due to how morally heinous they are, so long as they're entertaining. LO isn't even entertaining. Like, people will tell me LO shouldn't be "taken seriously", that you should consume it the same way as you would trash TV or a telenovella, but I don't get how I can do that either when it's so painfully BORING. A relationship is only as strong and interesting as the characters in it. If your characters are boring and uninteresting on their own, sticking them in a relationship together isn't gonna be much better. Now you just have two boring people being boring together lol

IDK where Smitty's head is at but I do get the feeling she's checked out. LO wasn't even supposed to go on this long in the beginning. But it can be really easy to drag things along for the sake of the money and fame and I feel like that's where we're at, like Rachel's just buying herself time before LO inevitably comes to an end. I definitely don't envy her position there. But she wouldn't be the first Originals creator who essentially "gave up" during production and started phoning it in thinking no one would notice. They do notice though. The sucky thing is that people are noticing what's up with Rachel and she's still like... pretending she's still into it, when she very obviously isn't. And if she is, then... whoof.

Hot take but LO just isn't a comic that should have become popular. Not that the concept itself couldn't have been popular, but like, my take on it in general is that people shouldn't be so concerned with "getting rich quick" especially in the arts industries. Like, to get across what I'm saying here, let me pose you a hypothetical: which would you rather be known for in the end? The first-time comic you got lucky with that reeks because you had no experience managing a longform series and lost your dedication to it years ago and it was literally your "first try"? Or the comic that came after you learned the craft and know what you're putting out is the best version of what it can be and proven to yourself it's what you really want to do with your life?

LO wasn't Smythe's first webcomic (she also created The Dr. Foxglove show which... I'm pretty sure she doesn't want anyone to know about because she's already starting scrubbing her ArtStation of it, oop-) but LO was her first foray into longform serialized storytelling. It might seem like a hot/harsh take, but no one should become instantly famous off their first project like that, as much as it might seem like a "dream come true". Because most of us aren't ready for that sort of responsibility yet. Your first, second, even third project should be learning experiences as a main priority. Getting famous off the first thing you do just because it got lucky or it scratched a certain itch in the market? Doesn't always bode well if you have no prior experience in that industry. Rachel has stated she has imposter syndrome in the past and while I feel like an asshole for saying this, it's one of the few times where I'll say "maybe the imposter syndrome has a point". Some people really do fail upwards. It's not to say Rachel doesn't deserve to be where she is (because god knows she probably isn't enjoying being there now with all the eyes on her that she didn't expect to have when she started out) but like... just because someone is famous for what they do, doesn't mean they're actually skilled at it.

But that might just be me being jaded. I used to want my first comic to become big and famous too but now, looking back at it, I'm so fucking glad it didn't LMAO I still don't know if I'm actually legitimately ready for that sort of thing, if it ever happened. Lucky for me it probably won't but I also didn't expect to end up with any sort of audience here the way I have so... that's been pretty neat LOL A little weird because I've been spending over a decade already just kind of creating for the void, and it's weird that it took an LO rewrite comic to do it, but w/e, the universe does what the universe does.

Sorry, I'm getting sentimental now LMAO This was really just my weird way of segueing into my big thanks for reading Rekindled <3

[rogueddie]

Not sure if you can answer this but I just wanted to ask about something I see a lot in fic about Steve. It’s not in every fic, but often S4 Steve is described as being sort of out of shape. It’s said in lots of different ways but that’s the message.

I’m just wondering if people really think that? I’m new to the fandom so I’ve missed a lot of the early S4 analysis. I know everyone must have talked about Steve’s music taste and collectively decided he likes abba, because it’s in fic a lot too. So did everyone chat about Steve’s body and collectively decide that? I’m only asking because every time I see it I feel sad and kind of ashamed of my own body. If that’s out of shape I’m never going to get to where I want to be. No one’s responsible for my insecurities at all, but I guess I just want to know the truth of it.

(I’m not talking about chubby fic, because that’s a genre on it’s own that some people like, I think.)

The only way I've seen people genuinely trying to say s4 Steve is out of shape in any way is that he feels out of shape. I've not personally seen anyone seriously saying he is and if anyones trying to genuinely say he's out of shape then they're idiots. If anything, Joe Keery was in better shape for s4.

But, then again, it would make sense for Steve to feel that way. Playing sports in school, from basketball to swim captain to baseball? He would've been extremely active all the time so losing that activity is bound to make him feel less in shape- even if it isn't true.

I'm pretty new to the fandom myself and I don't read analysis. If anyone actually sat down with others and talked through these ideas, I was not there. If anything, the analysis posts I see go against fanon; E.g. Steve canonically listens to Queen, he likes rock n roll.

I'm sorry that the fics you're seeing are making you feel bad about yourself, that's horrendous. And the fact that it's people wrongly saying that s4 Steve is out of shape just frustrates me. He's in great shape, the type that requires a lot of time and work to achieve and then even more to maintain.

Sorry if none of this helped, I've curated a nice little hidey hole of the fandom so I get to see all the lovely stuff like... 96% of the time. The best advice I could give is that as soon as something even starts to make you feel uncomfortable or insecure or anything like that, leave. It doesn't matter how good the story is or whatever, nothing is worth your mental health. Keeping yourself happy is the priority. And don't hesitate to block people if their posts are part of the problem.

[fractiflos]

Any sShinomori headcanons? ^^' I'm open to hear your thoughts on this guy

I have a lot for him too.

He likes turtles.

Idk how unpopular this opinion is, but I headcanon him with a farmer mentality towards animals. Like, yep, I will make sure these creatures are safe and healthy, but I will also eat some of them.

Speaking of which, I like to think that his family were farmers.

He prefers things plain. Like, plain food, plain clothes etc. Not a lot of need nor want for extravagance.

When he was younger, he did a lot of camping and already had some experience with the woods.

He prefers novels over the manga Yoichi likes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like it when Yoichi reads to him. (I also headcanon Yoichi read to him).

Less of a headcanon, but I think he would look good with glasses. He should wear some.

Because of danger sense and his general demeanor, I headcanon that he's totally fine in a life-or-death situation, but if he's running three minutes late (or something equally small), he freaks out.

It takes a lot for something to make him angry. Partly because he's calm, but also because he doesn't generally care what people say or do to him.

The best he can cook is just roasting something over a fire. That's it. To be fair, it is all he needs to do, not having an actual kitchen.

Speaking of, I headcanon he's got a really strong stomach and doesn't get food poisoning.

Well, really a strong immune system too, as I also think he doesn't get sick easily.

He was the quiet kid when he was young.

He's got a dark sense of humor. When his scars first appeared, he decided to play a prank on Banjo and pretend that he had been attacked.

He's kind of superstitious. Not to the point he inconviences people, but if you observe long enough, you'll notice a few odd things he does.

He hated going outside as a kid and would've rather stayed in his room and read. He warmed up to the woods eventually though. (I know this clashes, I just can't decide which I like best. 2 wolves and all that)

He's never been the most up to date with things, but Banjo would try to make sure he kept up and would give him newspapers, books, things like that.

He tried to be all self sacrificing and have will power and all that by refusing to do... pretty much anything that one needs to be healthy until Banjo convinced him to be a little easier on himself. Which helped him store up more strength.

His parents were a lot like him, but also more extreme in some ways. His mom was not only superstitious, but also believed in some crazy conspiracy theories and his dad was so awkward he didn't know how to interact with his own child. Also, he's an only child.

Rain and snow used to be his favorite because he could sit inside and watch. Then he had to live in the woods and decided that sunny days were best with a nice breeze.

And that's it. Sorry this took so long to answer, I had a lot going on this week.

[enjolrasofficial]

i saw you’re currently reading the captive prince and now i have to ask: do you think it’s worth the read? like i remember reading it at sixteen thinking ‘what the shitfuck is this?!?!’, like i hated it, absolutely hated it. but i have no recollection of the plot or anything other than my dislike. and i have had people tell me that they like it a lot, so i’m considering a reread simply to either cement my dislike or change it. would love to hear your thoughts on it just out of curiosity!

Heyyyy omg thank you for asking bc i have LOTS of thoughts about captive prince and i'm ALWAYS ready to rant about it!!

okay so i have very strong opinions about cp (and i need to warn you i've read it like 30 times in the past 7 years). the thing is. most people who say they hate it read the book with the wrong context notion. especially the first book . which is exactly why i give everyone who wants to read it and asks me about it the full trigger warning list and the disclaimer to NOT read the first book as a romance novel. (which is why i get very angry randomly when i remember that audible sorts the first book into the erotica genre which it decidedly isn't imo)

cp being sorted into erotica makes me so mad bc book one is a lot of things but NOT erotica. everything that happens in that book is to show the recipient the worst parts of both the akielon and vetretian cultures and societies and their practices. it introduces the reader the protagonists (well mostly damen but i will talk about that later) and outlines their struggles and motives. so i usually read the first book as something akin to a thriller and/or critique of the society bc nothing that happens in the first book is happy or sweet or erotic or lighthearted or romantic. it's all terrible, terrifying and just plain horror and i feel like that's also what the first book is SUPPOSED to convey.

book 2&3 are where the protagonists and circumstance both change. the protagonists learn and grow BECUASE they're removed from the awful court society and the circumstances they'd been thrown in by intrigues and fate. non of this change in them could've happened if they'd stayed in Arles. it shows the reader that the way they change each other and grow away from their respective cultures is a good thing bc both societies have MASSIVE FLAWS which are highlighted to excess in book one (and which is also commented on in the bonus short stories)

so yes if you read all three books as romance when you first read them i understand why you would've been disturbed by them as everything that happens in the first book is VERY disturbing and massive parts of the second and third book are quite disturbing too. However if one reads it under the prerequisite one would read let's say the hunger games (or any dystopian novel) under i wouldn't say it gets less disturbing but the reader suddenly uncovers a whole other layer of the book.

also i personally think that they get so much better (not in the sense of that it gets less disturbing but more so which makes the story better imo) with every reread bc you know so much more about laurent and his motives and his reactions and why he acts the way he acts whereas the reader now KNOWS the ways in which damen actively misinterprets laurents actions which is SO BRILLIANT bc it shows us that a) damen TRIES and he's a good guy but also that he's an absolutely unreliable narrator bc his experiences were so different from laurents and b) just how much laurent is struggling with the fact that he KNOWS and i love it i reread it SO OFTEN

also sorry this got a little longer than planned oopsie ly have a nice day 🤍