#need to do some major housekeeping

[liikeglitterandgcld]

henlo i am alive

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | BRAND NEW CHERRY FLAVOR

warnings : fem reader, ignore that we don't know his age exactly im guessing, ruts, knotting for the first time, rina is mentioned but only because she's meddling, fingering, masturbation, begging, reader is smaller than him, reader has a tramp stamp, virgin lycaon, cervix fucking, biting/marking, blood/blood licking, creampie, crying, sorry if I missed anything

wc : 2.5k+

this is so long im sorry im too obsessed with the idea of him being a virgin lmao >.< also sorry if there's mistakes it's not edited so

He thought upon hiring you on with Victoria Housekeeping things would largely remain the same, the only difference being having one more person with whom to split the existing workload of clientele contracts and commissions. An easy choice thinking of himself and Rina, the primary adults within the company.

It had been difficult as of late, he could acknowledge that, balancing taking on the bulk of the work while the companies other two employees attended their schooling and other engagements that typically keep younger people occupied. And truly he didn't mind it, it was the duty of those older to pick up the slack, allow youth it's time to blossom and explore.

That was not the issue, though. The issue was you.

Not your work performance, no that was impeccable. You had impressed him enough during your interviews but in practical work you went even beyond that, showing an exemplary aptitude for even the most banal tasks. The picture of a perfectly competent maid and (occasional) hollow raider. Even able to both meet and exceed his own impossibly high standards per all the glowing reviews he receives from clients, truly you were a fantastic addition to the company.

The problem arose months ago, when you two had been tasked with a more unconventional commission involving a hollow. Of course danger was always ever present in those ether soaked spaces, both from the impending malformed creatures that called them home and from the levels of ether itself. The risk of warping and twisting the body into a cruel mockery of what once was, imbibing it with sickness.

It was the first time you'd actually worked side by side, he'd asked you to come with him as a sort of test not because he thought he really needed the backup. See how you'd been progressing, what you were like on the job, that sort of thing. A completely normal request for a boss to make, all things considered.

What had not been normal was allowing himself to be caught on the back foot, surprised. You were... painfully distracting to him. A major shortcoming on his part, it was nothing you were doing overtly to draw his attention in such a laser focused way it just seemed like he had a bizarre inclination to keep his attention on you. The way you walked, that delicious sway of your hips. That thing you did when you were thinking, running your thumb across your bottom lip. The smell of shampoo clinging to your hair and wafting over him every time you so much as turned your head. Sugary, faintly floral. Horribly distracting.

Giving some stray hati a prime opportunity to pounce. Neither of you had noticed them creeping up on your perimeter, stalking you both as you picked through the skeletons of abandoned, crumbling homes and businesses. You too busy nervously chattering away and him too busy thinking about how much he enjoyed the sound of your voice.

One moment there had been nothing and in another there was everything happening all at once. Their predatory howls, the initiation of combat. The ring of your weapon as it hit against their stone manes, the crunch of his ice against newly exposed flesh. His eyes frantically trying to keep you in his line of sight at all times, take advantage of the path you left in your wake to give the finishing blow, giving yet another perfect opening for one of the creatures to tackle him full force, the brute strength of it slamming against his side and laying him out shamefully against cracked concrete, knocking the air from his lungs in a painful squeeze.

But there you had been, like some kind of avenging angel from artworks of the old civilization. Your features were highlighted by the look of sheer anger as you mercilessly dug the weapon in your hands into the creatures back, ripping away its advantage and successfully dispatching it within seconds. He could feel how wide his own eyes were, but felt too much acute discomfort to bother trying to mask his own awe.

Not since he was a pup had he needed rescuing.

Not since he was once so pathetically, terribly young had he felt so immediately endeared to someone else.

You were on your knees beside him, fussing over him, eyes sweeping around for any signs of injury or blood. He knew there was none, would have smelled it immediately, but nevertheless he allowed himself to enjoy your ministrations. The way your hands so carefully hovered over him, trying to be mindful of thiren preferences for touch while also trying to be caring, attentive. It was sickeningly sweet of you, made him swear for a second he could taste it in the air, feel granuals of sugar grinding within his teeth. He wondered if your lips tasted even half as sweetly.

"Are you hurt anywhere, should we leave the hollow? An emergency exit is understandable, right? If you're hurt?" Your eyes met him, practically welling over with concern.

He had wanted to hold your face in his hands, soothe you. Almost immediately he'd been gripped by the horror of his own impropriety.

Clearing his throat he took the hand you offered as leverage to get back on his feet, taking note of your warmth, the surprisingly strong grip of your fingers, before you withdrew. Soft, yet capable. Beautiful.

"There's no need. We can continue on with the commission." It took a monstrous effort to keep his voice neutral, act as if nothing of note was running rampant inside his head.

From the on the feelings he had towards you only grew, like a beast growing fat off plentiful prey. Every glance from you, every accidental touch of hands, every moment of conspiratorial laughter shared between you at something silly one of the others had done. Months and months of feeling his heart rate grow increasingly erratic every time your lovely voice would sound out in the mornings, always a perfectly cheerful greeting towards him and the others before you began your work.

And so here he is, mid rut and miserable. Thrusting into his own hand, as he's done so many times before, feeling the sweltering heat in his bedroom and bubbling frustration in his head at the feeling of tangled sheets and the distinct lack of any partner to be thrusting up into.

He'd called into work, voice twinged with embarrassment because how on earth had he forgotten about his incoming rut? Well, he knew how. Because you consumed almost every moment of his waking inner thoughts, distracted him to such an insane degree he failed to fill his suppressant prescription in time. Thankfully Rina hadn't needed details, always too clever by half, but it didn't stop him from feeling intense shame rolling through him even just knowing someone else knew what exactly was going on with him.

Sickness, uh huh. Try so horny and hard he could crack a brick wall in half. The thought made him feel so erratic he couldn't help but grab a nearby pillow, pressing it to his face, feeling his now neglected cock throbbing as he bit the soft down surface so hard he could feel his teeth punching right through the material.

You, you, you, you, you.

All he wants is to lap at what he's sure is the sweetest taste in the world nestled between your legs, feel your body stretching and accommodating his size, tell you how he's going to give you his knot and watch your pretty eyes glaze over and your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts, dig his teeth into your neck, your chest, make you squeal and squirm so he can pin you down-

A few distant, tentative raps against wood.

Did he imagine that?

Tap, tap, tap.

No, no he didn't. Who would be knocking in the middle of the day? Oh god, what if it was a neglected client that had tracked down his address? Someone angry one of the girls had forgotten or completely ignored their commission? His breathing was strained, nearly wheezing as he rushed to make himself somewhat presentable, cringing as he struggled to slide trousers over his impossibly obvious erection. No time to brush down his severely disarrayed fur. How humiliating.

As he scrambles for the front door, flinging it open so hard it nearly crashes against the wall, he freezes.

Why the hell are you here? How do you even know where he lives?

Your eyes go impossibly wide as you take him in, the awkward silence ballooning in the space between you and he's acutely aware of how crazed he must look as his claws dig into the metal of the door handle.

"I'm... I'm sorry for dropping in it's just that- well, Miss Rina told me you were sick and I kind of... begged for your address so I could come check on you, I'm sorry-"

You cut yourself off from rambling, picking at your nails as your eyes flit around nervously.

Of course Rina would give you his address, mischievous as she is. She knew exactly what was going on with his little juvenile crush, his rut. Calling in probably gave her the idea.

But all that was far from his most pressing concern at the moment. You couldn't be here, absolutely not. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore that familiar shampoo scent, trying to ignore the way you look especially lovely, how easy it would be to yank you inside and just-

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be perfectly fine. I just need to rest." Blunt enough to make him feel bad for rejecting your kindness but the boundary needs to be in place before he does something highly inappropriate. You're coworkers, not casual friends. Every thought he has about you is crossing a line.

A snide inner voice comes out of the blue and he can't focus on what you're saying, too consumed by shame.

As if you'd even know what to do with her anyway.

It must show on his face, although you misunderstand it, because you give him a look of naked concern and he's snapped back into focus. "Do you need me to call a doctor for you? I have my car, I can take you to White Waves if you need to go Lycaon it's no problem-"

"No, no it's nothing that serious." He's losing control of the situation, needs to get you out of here.

"Well, at least let me make you tea or something to eat, please. You look like you haven't eaten all day." Your worried tone makes his pathetic resolve crumble easily, like it was made of sand.

Against his better judgement he relents, awkwardly stepping to the side to let you in the door and a part of him preens at the way your scent immediately compliments his own, mingling in the space as if you inherently belong there. If he had the energy to feel it he'd be embarrassed about the state of his apartment, in disarray as it is. But you don't pay any attention, immediately finding your way to his kitchen and digging through his cabinets like you've done it a thousand times.

Watching you makes him even harder, throbbing and aching so acutely in his pants that his vision momentarily goes fuzzy at the edges. You look so domestic, so relaxed. A bolt of jealousy fires off in his brain, white hot, at the fact that numerous clients have gotten to see you in a similar way before him. Your casual clothes aren't helping him keep control of himself either.

Jeans that accentuate the swell of your ass, the shape of your hips. A tank top that's ridden up slightly, exposing a bit of your stomach as you stretch up to reach the higher spots in a cabinet. He wants to run his tongue over your belly, lick his way up to your chest, leave little love bites across your throat. As you turn to the counter beside the stove he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on your lower back and his jaw flexes so tightly he's shocked his teeth don't shatter in his mouth. He never knew you had one, but it certainly suits you. He wants to know if you have any more, in any hidden places.

"You should lay down, I can bring this to you when its finished," you say it so gently but he can't bring himself to move away, to risk missing a single glimpse of you.

He says nothing and you don't try to press him, to your credit. But when you can't quite reach the top of another cabinet, where hes kept tea tucked away neatly, his instincts to help take over before he can register that his body has moved beside you, hand going over top of yours to easily grab the box. But the way your forearms brush on the way back down makes him drop the box, a shockingly loud clatter that causes a dozen deep fissures to spread in his mind.

He's got ahold of your wrist before you can react, keeping you so physically close to himself that if he took a half step forward you'd be chest to chest. He can smell sugar on your breath, see the red twinge on your tongue from candy you must've had on the way over.

It doesn't even register that his eyes are closed, that your mouth is on his, that his tongue is lapping up the secondhand taste of cherries as it slides across yours and your fingers grasp the rumpled fabric of his shirt. It's like a moment suspended in cut crystal, refracted in a thousand different ways to the outside observer, a million different angles of this one frozen scene, and he wants to hold it forever in his hands.

Hold you forever.

But you pull away and his first instinct is to follow after you, body bending even further to chase your lips as you struggle to catch your breath. Your bodies remain impossibly close as you speak, his eyes never leaving your lips, memorizing the curve of them.

"I don't- I didn't mean-" you're struggling and he can't bear it, can't bear the thought that this one beautiful moment is tainted by the nature of your overall relationship as employees, even worse is that he truly doesn't care. It should scandalize him, shame him in some way, but it doesn't. That fact feels extremely far removed from his current reality and the feeling of even more blood rushing to his lower body.

He cuts you off bluntly. "How much do you know about beast thirens?"

You gape, having been cut off with what is to your view an extremely out of place question but he's hoping you'll follow the thread. "What?"

"How much do you know? Because Rina wasn't exactly... truthful with you." His eyes skirt away from your face but hes committed to telling you what's going on. "I'm not ill, not in the way you're thinking. I'm, well, going through what's called a rut." There's a heavy pause. "The need to... mate."

He cringes internally on the final word, finally meeting your eyes and watching you put it all together. Your own eyes are adorably wide, but you don't pull away from him and that takes him by surprise. He'd figured the second you knew you'd be in a rush to leave, probably drop a resignation call to Victoria Housekeeping on your way home.

But you don't do any of those things, merely taking it in and continuing to let your eyes travel over his unkempt appearance and he's even more aware, if that's possible, of how needy he feels. Any longer without relief and he just might need to take himself to White Waves Hospital. But that's not your problem.

"I mean... That's just a natural thing for you, right? It's not like you're some perv," you laugh nervously, "and maybe- maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you had a little... help?"

His brain feels like a damaged, glitching bangboo. Are you seriously offering this?

"What I'm trying to say is that I- I like you, and I don't care that we kissed. Well, I care but I'm not upset by it. And I'm not upset that you're, like this right now," you gesture with your chin, "and if you need someone then... I can help you with it. If you want." You finish in a rush, clearly embarrassed and something rears its head deep in his stomach.

There's no more room for coherent though as he finds your lips again, nipping at the bottom one before taking advantage of your little gasp to slide his tongue back in your mouth. He turns you slightly, so your back meets the edge of the countertop with his hands massaging at your hips, groping obscenely at your ass. The barrier of your clothes is frustrating, making him growl low in his throat before he's deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them, fingers trembling at you help push them and your underwear down to puddle at your ankles.

You squeal as he lifts you easily to set you atop the counter spreading your legs in his firm grip while your own fingers curl around the marble edge of the counter, gasping as he kisses and sucks against the flesh of your inner thighs as he makes his way towards your pussy. He can smell how aroused you are and it spurs his instincts on, despite the sliver of anxiety working against his lust.

He's marveling at you, sliding two fingers through your wetness, spreading you to see the way you glisten with the slick liquid and he can feel your eyes on him.

"I've, I'm sorry, I've just never been with anyone." The last half of the sentence is heavy on his tongue, one crimson eye shyly avoiding your own before you reach down to cup his face in one hand.

The small smile on your face is sweet, purely gentle and it eases the nerves gnawing at his stomach.

"Never?" He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, "Then just watch for a second."

And it's mesmerizing, the way your fingers delicately dip down into your own wetness, dragging up to your clit before your fingers start slowly circling. He watches intently, watching the way your pace slowly builds, your hips twitching ever so slightly at the stimulation before you move back down and slide those two fingers inside yourself.

And the sight is like something religious to him, totally enraptured at the way your pussy swallows the two digits, the way your head tips back and your lips part in a silent sigh. It's not long before the soft squelching sound of your fingers scissoring against your walls reaches his ears, making them flick as he zeros in on it.

With a breathy laugh you pull your hand away but before it gets out of reach he grabs it, bringing your soaked fingers to his mouth before locking eyes with you, tongue tasting every bit of yourself that lingers against the skin.

He thinks your demonstration was a good enough starting point, no longer too nervous as his tongue starts licking long stripes up your pussy and you let out a high pitched sound at the contact. It makes him eager to please, focusing all his attention on licking and sucking at your clit while his fingers find your entrance.

The stretch of you is better than anything his imagination could've conjured up, feeling your walls part around his digits as he gives a few experimental curls and strokes. He can hear you nearly choking on your own noises above him and it sends satisfaction oozing through his body, washing over him like thick drops of syrup.

But he's impatient, whining against your cunt and you seem to know what he needs without him even voicing it. Just another reason to be so enamored with you.

You drag him up to stand, hands urging him to strip and he does so gladly, nearly jumping out of his own skin he's so flush with excitement at having you soaking wet and ready to take him, right there in the middle of his kitchen.

It makes his head spin as his cock springs free, groaning as he feels the air against his overly sensitive girth. Your mouth opens slightly as you take in the sight of him and that earlier shyness returns with a vengeance, but before he can speak your hand wraps around him, barely able to grasp all of him. The surge of pride is something he's entirely unfamiliar with but he relishes in it all the same, desperately wants to please you.

"Just try to start slow, okay?" You say, breath hitching in your throat as you guide the head of his cock through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

And he takes the lead flawlessly, one hand against the counter to anchor himself and the other gripping your thighs, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers as he pushes in. It's torturous, the howling need to just slam right into you as he feels his head sitting heavy and thick inside you, your breathing already ragged and your eyes fluttering closed.

But he knows this requires patience, for the moment. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, hurt the trust you've placed in him, so his hips move barely an inch at a time and the feeling of your body reshaping itself around his cock is one hundred times more incredible than just his fingers.

What a pathetic comparison his hand ever was, the real thing will never be beaten out. Your whimpers increase in frequency as the head of him kisses your cervix, his swollen knot nestled tightly between his own body and your slick pussy. As he looks down at your connected bodies he can't help but wonder if you'll even have the ability to take it, but he doesn't get to give it much more thought because you start slowly wiggling your hips, encouraging him to move.

And once again he follows your lead like it was the only role he was meant for, pulling out with agonizing gentleness before pushing himself back inside you and he can't help the way his mouth drops open, the way his eyes screw shut. Does it feel like this for everyone, like they've died on the spot and been given an express ticket to heaven?

He doesn't have the wherewithall to feel any embarrassment at the way he's panting, nearly drooling on you, the way he's keening and growling like some fledgling but you don't seem to mind it. Not with your fingers digging into his fur, your legs loosely locked around his hips, the way you say his name in a half gasp.

His fingers slide down between your bodies as you pull him closer, into a heated kiss made of teeth clacking together and tongues pushing against one another. He swallows your every noise as he starts playing with your clit, just the way he watched you do it earlier. Rubbing sticky little hearts against it and nipping at your lips as your legs jerking, the muscles straining and flexing beneath the skin.

His canines scrape a path from your mouth to your jaw to your throat as his hips pick up speed, jostling your body with so much force your cries take on a higher pitch and your fingers pull at his fur sharply, only adding to the overall sensory delight. He tests your tolerance with his teeth, shallow bites in between sucking on the skin of your throat, groaning as he feels your hand slide up to cup the back of his head, feels the flesh pull taut as you let your head tilt even further to the side.

Giving him permission. His mind is swimming through a black sea of pure instinct, running his tongue over the flesh in silent apology for the pain you'll experience but he won't pass up the opportunity. You're allowing him to indulge, playing to his base instincts. How could he not gobble up the bait? And with that loose thought his canines dig into you, the fine points of them puncturing the skin and a trickle of iron washes over his tongue.

You cry out, pussy immediately squeezing him in a stranglehold at the same time your fingers yank at his scruff but it's not to stop him, it's like the string of a bow being pulled all the way back. Your toes curl in midair, practically sobbing as your hips buck wildly and he thinks this must be it, this must be what a human is like when they cum.

Later he'll examine the fact that you came at exactly the moment he inflicted that little bit of pain on you but for now he's lost in it, hips moving in no particular rhythm anymore as he fucks you through your orgasm, fuck you through the impossible tightness of your cunt, and he can feel it like a second heartbeat fluttering in between your legs as his tongue slides against the blood threatening to drip down to your breast.

And all too soon he feels his balls tightening up, his knot throbbing in time with the pulsing of your cunt and his movements are cruel now, all fueled by pure instinct as he grinds and fucks into you with shameless desperation. His knot needs to be inside you before he cums, he can't spill anywhere but inside you.

And his clumsy, less than elegant method works when he feels that tight ring of muscle at your entrance stretch to its limits and the almost too snug pop of all of himself finally sliding inside. You hiccup on a particularly loud sob as it does, legs snapping against his hips with such finality he doesn't move against your hold, remains standing as his body shakes, his cock twitching as sticky spurts of cum flood your pussy, whining at the way your walls practically suck it all deeper inside, milking him so much it's overwhelming.

It goes on for so much longer than he ever thought possible, the sheer amount of cum making him feel dizzy, like he's lost blood and is teetering on the edge of passing out. But he can't focus on the feeling, instead guiltily kissing every part of your face he can, trying to wipe away the saltwater tracks and then cradling your head against his chest as you bury your face in his fur, feeling the way you're trying to even out your breathing.

You speak before he can, his tongue like a wad of wet cotton in his mouth.

"How- how long are we stuck together?" You manage to force the words out unsteadily, pulling back to meet his gaze before nuzzling your face against his jaw.

His heads still spinning as he answers. "I don't really know," he breathes in harshly, "I'm sorry if its uncomfortable."

He can feel you shake your head. "It's not," your voice becomes shy, still thick with the aftermath of your orgasm, "I like the feeling of you inside me."

He can't help the dopey smile that crosses his face, fingers stroking down your back as he ignores the way his legs shake, the way his knot pulses. When you're no longer tied together he'll need to lay down before he collapses on the spot.

Already that thought invites visions of clutching you to his chest while you straddle his hips, cock thrusting in and out of you at a volatile pace all over again. He'll make it up to you once the fog of lust is lifted, but you most likely won't be leaving this apartment in the coming days.

He'll have to remember to call in for you tomorrow, sure to hear Rinas smug voice on the other end of the line.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

[wangxianficrecs]

Posting Schedule, Changes & A Small Break

~*~

My fellow wangxianists.

I am very sorry that I have to make this announcement, but I need to take a little break.

Let me start by promising that I will not abandon this blog and I will definitely continue posting, but I really do need a break. For the past two years, I managed to keep this blog running with daily fic recs, no matter what was happening in my own life. I prepared the queue for when I had a major surgery last year and for when I went on a long vacation this year, but currently the queue is empty and I can't bring myself to hastily throw another post together just so that I will not miss my daily fic rec.

In the beginning of August, I moved across the country and started a new job. It's my dream job and I worked hard for literal years to have this opportunity, but it's also very demanding and I often come home and continue working. I just don't have as much time anymore to read fics and then prepare a fic rec post (write the rec itself, make the graphic, format everything, etc.) and I found myself only hastily reading whatever short fic came across my dash and then quickly throwing a post together and it's becoming an unfortunate pattern. I don't want fic-reading burnout. I love reading fic and I love this fandom very much. I also still want to have enough time to write my own fanfics. It's my dearest hobby and I often neglected it to keep the WangxianFicRecs queue running.

Needless to say, things have to change and here's what I decided so far:

No more daily fic rec posts

From now on, I will add all posts to the queue. My own recs, Follower Recs, Proud Author Spotlights, Event Boosts, everything will get added to the queue. So on some days, e.g. you might get one of my recs or your might get a Follower Rec. And if there is no post for a day or two, that's fine too.

Bringing back old recs

There are over 1.400 bookmarks in the WangxianFicRecs Collection and we made posts for all of them. Going forward, whenever the queue is looking a little sad and empty, I will queue some of our old recs similar to Throwback Recs. I'm sure there are more than a few recs you missed originally.

Housekeeping

I will take a break for at least a week (I'll add all submissions in the inbox to the queue) and take some time to think about how I want to run this blog going forward. I've also promised myself to finally clean up our tag page and maybe get a better system sorted for making the graphics.

In the meantime, thank you for your support and being such lovely followers! I really love running this blog and I want to keep loving it going forward.

Love, Kay.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[vonlycaonwife]

Hello, love your work and was just wondering if you could write about lycaon celebrating the holidays with the reader i am in love with this man, but there's just so few content about him Happy holidays!! (also yes ik this is late but that's alright >:))

Sorry this took so long to do!! I know it's not the holidays but…screw it CHRISTMAS IN JULY, also I tried not to specify the holiday because I know there’s so many different ones

Warning: none

•Ah the holidays, the time of the year where many couples usually spend time together. At least, that’s what you were planning to do with your partner.

•But sadly, it seemed that Lycaon had to work for the majority of that time. Since the company would have more jobs due to many needing a helping hand from the best maids and butlers the Victoria Housekeeping could offer.

•But that didn’t stop the thirian from keeping you feeling loved while he was at work.

•If you didn’t work there as well he would leave holiday themed notes, maybe even some mini scavenger hunt games to keep you entertained and giddy.

•If you did work within the same company then he always makes time to give you some affection. Though it may only be a quick peck on your head, it adds up when he seems to always find a path that crossed with yours.

•And when the work day was over, he would come home with some holiday themed snack. Absolutely tuned to your tastes. You wonder how he can do this everyday with his busy schedule, but that’s just how dedicated he is to you.

•When the holiday you celebrate comes closer, you most likely would feel sad since he would most likely be working that day. After all it was one of those times where you wanted to just spend time with him alone.

•Though to your shock, he somehow was free! While he never rushed his work, he did get so much done that he was allowed to leave early.

•During the night(s), the two of you would do as many activities as possible, though they mainly were small as you both would rather stay indoors and bask in each other’s presence.

•Plus his fur does wonder at keeping warm~

[lincolndjarin]

Bound in Beskar

From the world of Best Kept Secret...

A down on her luck traveler finds employment with a gruff Mandalorian. He's quiet and reserved, she's resourceful and quick witted, and things are heating up in the forge... one can only imagine what happens in this tale of lust and steel.

Some of you may recall our dear princess!reader in bks reading a book in chapter 20, this is that. Vaguely in the style of those campy romance novels that you read in the bathtub with candles and wine.

warnings : armorer!mando, no use of y/n, reader is not described past the fact that she is manhandled and carried by mando, smut, unapologetic porn with a little plot, i use the phrase 'throbbing member' just once i promise it's ironic please believe me guys, spanking, pussy slapping, dom/sub undertones, sir kink, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, humiliation, p in v sex, inappropriate use of blacksmithing abilities, ro makes things up about blacksmithing, bondage, use of restraints, briefly mentioned ass play, inappropriate use of a hammer, size kink, sweet rough sex, power imbalance (mando is readers boss, but both parties are consenting), definitely a few things i missed my apologies, barely beta read i was in a rush sorry!!

word count : 3.8k

a/n : this is so bad but also like i love it LMAO like i promise it's supposed to be kind of bad guys you have to believe me lmaoooo. this was really fun to do omfg this is my magnum opus in the worst way possible

You don’t know his name. 

There wasn’t even an interview. You’d come knocking on his door when you saw the sign in town on the news bulletin board. You’d shown up with everything you owned in the canvas bag on your hip as you knocked on the large brass door. The house didn’t look like a shop, it just looked like a house, a large house, when he finally opened the door you could see why. Just beyond his hulking figure you can see his work space, the majority of the building is devoted to just one room, high ceilings and brick walls surround the enormous forge. 

“I saw your flier for a live-in housekeeper, is the position still available?” You’re so sick of sleeping in alley ways and rooftops, you’d do nearly anything for adequate lodging. 

He had examined you, the cold, unfeeling steel of his visor scanning up and down your body until he nodded. 

“You can clean?” The low, controlled voice drips through the modulator making your blood run hot. 

“Yes, and cook.” You hold your hand out to him, he only nods in response as you tell him your name. 

“You start now.” Is all you get as he motions for you to step inside.

So yeah.

You don’t know his name and he never tells you.

So you just call him sir. 

The room is nicer than any you’ve ever had. A little space at the top of the stairs, a soft worn out mattress and a desk with a crooked stool. You take it with a grin, you can’t remember the last time you slept somewhere warm. 

You set your things down as he instructs you to follow him back downstairs. He shows you around, although there isn’t much to see. The main room is large with an open ceiling for the smoke, an ornate forge takes up the center, the fires crackle from within as he leads you to a small kitchen. 

The first thing you note is how barren it is. One skillet hangs from a hook and as you search through the drawers most of them are empty.

“I will give you extra credits this week for supplies.” He sounds almost embarrassed as he ushers you out of the room towards his own. “Once a week I’ll need you to tidy up here and do the laundry, it is of the utmost importance to me that you knock when you do.”

“Of course.” You nod slowly and he puts his hands on his hips. There’s a moment of silence before he turns and returns to his work without another word.  

You are to cook his meals, buy the groceries, clean the house, and stay out of his way. In exchange he provides housing and a salary of two hundred and fifty credits a week along with any change from the grocery money he gives you. 

You almost want to ask how no one else applied to such a generous job offer but the quiet foreboding presence of your employer makes it obvious enough. It wouldn’t surprise you if people feared him, you’re certainly a bit jumpy around him. He’s just so… big. He takes up so much space, stomping around the shop all day as you take care to stay out of his path, cleaning up the messes he leaves behind. 

You stay extremely vigilant, opportunities like this do not often arise for you so you give him no reasons to question your performance. 

You go to the markets, bundled up in your cloak once a week to keep the kitchen stocked. You wake before him to prepare his breakfast, you tidy up the forge before he opens the shop to make it presentable. You cook, you clean, you repeat. When there is no work to be done he dismisses you, telling you to make yourself busy elsewhere and you always do. Taking walks or retreating to your own quarters. 

You do this for quite some time. 

He doesn’t necessarily soften up towards you but he seemingly grows to tolerate you more. 

You try different things, baking, knitting, painting and anything else you can get your hands on but no hobby ever seems to stick so eventually you take to watching him work. Sitting at the top of the stairs, dangling your legs over the railing as he hammers the smoldering metals. He’s an artist really, the quick precision of his strikes with the hammer, bending steel to his will to craft the custom fitted pieces. It makes you wonder why his own armor looks so worn down when he clearly has a gift. Everything but his helmet is worn down, scratched up dark metals that he often tosses aside when he works late into the night. 

After long days of work when the shop is closed he’ll toss aside his chestplate and pauldrons, opting to remain only in his helmet as he rolls up his sleeves revealing the warm tan skin beneath. You always feel as though you can’t breathe right when he does this. His strong, toned arms, littered with burn scars from years of work. 

You can’t deny his appeal. 

Even without the armor he is huge. The wide expanse of his shoulders that smooth down into a narrow waist. You don’t even need to wonder about what’s going on under the helmet because everything else is just so much. Those hands, that neck, his chest, you’re practically drooling when you watch him work late into the night, sitting at the top of the stairs, clutching a steaming mug of caf as you squeeze your thighs together. You spend most nights with your hand between your legs thinking about your employer.   

It isn’t a bad life, it’s repetitive but it’s happy and safe which is more than you’ve ever had before. The Mandalorian treats you well, sometimes he speaks to you outside of orders, sometimes over dinner he asks you how your day was. You even have enough money to start a savings box. 

Nothing changes and you’re fine with that.

Until one night when he’s working late, working on something smaller and detailed. You had started to tidy up around him, already in your pajamas as you padded around the forge in your nightshirt and shorts. You were sweeping when it happened. 

“Kriff-” You slip on a scrap of fabric, you grab onto the ledge of the forge, trying to catch yourself. Your breath catches in your throat as you knock a hammer off of the stone, nearly falling face first into the molten metal.

You don’t even have time to scream as the wind is knocked out of you and you’re sharply yanked backwards away from the heat. 

“Do you have a death wish?” It’s the most emotion you’ve ever heard from him, anger that threatens to spill out of his helmet. “If you fall face first into that you’d be dead in an instant.” He hisses out, hands now shaking your shoulders. 

“I- I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Your face gets hot with shame as the veins in his neck pulse. “Please don’t fire me.” You whisper, fear of losing everything you’ve worked for over one simple mistake. 

He sighs.

“I’m not going to fire you, I’m just going to discipline you.”

“Discipli-” You start to question him but he sits down on the anvil, motioning you forward with two fingers before patting his lap. Your eyes go wide at the implication.

“Tell me to stop and you can go back upstairs, it won’t affect your job." He whispers earnestly.

You don’t want him to stop. 

So you go to sit in his lap but he clicks his tongue under his helmet.

“On your stomach.” His voice is lower than before as you swallow loudly, bending yourself over his knee, hiding your face in your hands. Your ass is on display for him under the short sleep shirt you wear. “How many do you think you need to learn your lesson?” 

“How many what, sir?” 

“How many spanks.”

Oh.

You pray to the Maker that you aren’t soaking through your shorts right now. 

“Umm… fifteen?” You aren’t exactly experienced in the subject but you don’t want to pick a number too low.

“Fifteen? Look at you my little over achiever, you must truly be sorry.” He muses with an amusement you’ve never heard from him. His large palm massages the globes of your ass, you’re so painfully turned on at this point you’re honestly a little worried you’re gonna come the second he starts. “And can you tell me why you’re being punished?” 

“B-because I knocked over your hammer?” You stammer out and you feel a sharp sting as he pinches your ass. 

“No, you sweet thing.” He bunches up your top a bit higher as he simultaneously yanks down your shorts pulling a yelp from you, he definitely knows you’re wet now. “It’s because you weren’t being careful, you weren’t focused on what you were doing and you almost got hurt.”

“No, I was focused I promise-”

“But you weren’t. You were sitting up there watching me, getting yourself all worked up and by the time you got down here you were so horny you got distracted and almost got yourself killed. What would I do without my pretty little housekeeper?” You’re speechless for several reasons. He knows why you watch him? He knows how much it turns you on? 

He called you pretty. 

And his. 

“Tell me why you’re being punished?” He repeats as you clear your throat. 

“Because I wasn’t paying attention.” You mumble. 

“I want the exact answer.” 

You’re so embarrassed you could just die but something about the shame makes your blood run hot as you rub your thighs together rather obviously, earning a chuckle from your companion. 

“Because I was so worked up from watching you and I was distracted, and I almost got hurt.” You whisper, hearing a pleased hum from him. 

“That’s my smart girl. Are you ready?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes…?”

“Yes, sir.” You quickly correct yourself before bracing yourself for the first smack. 

One. 

You’re surprised by the softness of the smack. It’s more like a pat against your rear. 

“Still good?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Two. 

You squeak a bit, this one being significantly harsher than the first, before you’re prepared he’s back on you. 

Three, four, five, six. 

You’re making a sound that’s a mix between a moan and a squeal as his bare palms come in contact with your ass in four consecutive sharp spanks. He rubs his hands over the flesh that you’re certain is already welted and swollen. The next spanks come long before you’re ready. 

Seven, eight, nine, ten. 

Tears sting your eyes as he lays into you as if you’re beskar steel that he can bend to his will.

“Look at that.” He remarks with a sense of accomplishment as you let out a soft whimper. You feel his finger gliding along your thighs and up your seam making you shudder before he holds his glistening digits in front of your face. “Are you enjoying yourself, sweet thing?” You nod with a small hum, praying he’ll just touch you already but you aren’t so lucky as you feel a slap against your pussy (Eleven.) that has you whining, loud and high pitched as you clench around nothing. 

Twelve. 

Another slap to your cunt, you can feel your clit twitching as a groan is punched out of you. 

“Gods, are you gonna come like this?” He sounds terribly amused as your body tenses. 

Thirteen. 

He spreads you wide open, giving your clit a little tap that has you lurching forward in his lap. 

“Come on, you can do it.” The condescending tone only makes you want to please him more, you want it so bad as he ghosts a finger across your dripping hole. 

Fourteen, fifteen. 

On the final slap his hand stays pressed against your mound, applying just enough pressure to throw you over that edge. You’ve never come quite like this, nearly wailing as tears now flow freely as your body turns to putty in his lap. He has melted you down and made you something new. 

He lets you work through it for a while, rubbing your back until you come back to your senses. He lifts you from his lap, your legs wobble and shake as he stands you up.

“I gotcha.” He murmured as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you up the stairs before laying you down in bed. “You did so good, such a good girl for me.” He whispered as you closed your eyes, absolutely exhausted. You felt the blankets pulled up over you before you drifted off. 

You swore you felt something press against your forehead. 

When you wake for the first time since you started working for him, breakfast is already made. A plate of bread and meat sits on your desk along with a glass of water. Your ass is raw but other than that you feel more than fine. You aren’t sure what to expect when you go downstairs but it certainly isn’t the silence you're met with. 

It’s as if nothing happened at all. 

He doesn’t even acknowledge you as you frown, attending to your daily tasks. 

He barely even looks at you. 

You go to bed that night frustrated and upset.

So you come up with a plan to get his attention.

You mess up in every way possible. 

You ‘forget’ to make his breakfast. You leave metal scraps on the floor. And you go to bed early, hoping he’ll come upstairs and punish you for your mistakes but he never does. You ignore your duties for a full week before you finally snap at him while he’s locking up. 

“Do I have to throw myself into the forge again to get your attention?” You finally snap at him. 

“Excuse me?” He turns to face you, holding his tongs in hand. 

“I have been a terrible housekeeper for days and you haven’t so much as scolded me!” You throw your hands up in exasperation as he shakes his head. 

“Is that what this is about? My forge is a mess because I haven’t been giving you enough attention?” He tilts his head to the side and you actually feel a bit guilty, when he puts it like that you seem rather petulant. You nod, feeling rather ashamed. He points at the anvil. “Lay down. Now.” You waste no time, rushing over and laying down on your stomach across the large steel surface, his large hands pin you down in place as he takes position behind you, clearly fuming and clearly hard as his hips meet your ass. 

It’s a harrowing juxtaposition, how careful yet rough he is with you as his hand holds you by the back of your neck, pressing you into the cold metal of the anvil. You’re practically giddy with anticipation as you feel a faint heat on your wrists as they’re yanked behind your back. There’s a sizzling sound and you register a metal wrapped around your wrists, arousal and fear course through you as you feel a nearly painful heat that has you trying to look over your shoulder. He pushes back harder on your neck.

“Don’t move.” He grumbles as you go still. When he finally takes a step back you turn to look at what he’s done only to find your wrists shackled behind your back, they aren’t just locked in place. 

He’s welded them together.  

“You want my attention so badly? Then you’re gonna get it.” He yanks down everything below your waist, your tights bunching at your ankles as he pulls your skirt up to your hips. “You’re a terrible housekeeper, maybe I should find another use for you.” He kneels behind you, spreading you wide open with his hands, the cool air from the skylight chills your soaking folds. His fingers poke at you as if he’s examining you. You’re grinning as you wait for him to finally touch you in earnest but instead you feel cold steel pressing into you. You flinch away from the sensation but he holds you in place. 

“Sir- please-” You whine but all that gets you is a slap on the ass as he pushes the object in deeper. You groan, it isn’t all that thick but Maker it’s long, brushing up against spots inside of you you’re certain you’ve never reached before until the base of it bumps against your clit, the heavy weight shifting inside of you as it clicks. 

He put his fucking hammer inside you. 

“Maybe I can use you to hold my tools.” He remarks as he stands. “Would you like that? If I kept you around to hold my things?” He walks over to kneel in front of you now, tapping your face with his fingers. “This is a lesson, you know.” 

“What lesson?” Your voice is more strained than you expected. 

““That if you want something, you need to ask for it.” He whispers through the modulator as you nod.

“Please.” You whimper.

“Please, what?” 

“Please, I want you to touch me.” You sway your hips as best you can like this as he runs his fingers across your cheek.

“Like this?” Bastard.

“I want you to fuck me.” No point beating around the bush. “Sir.” You add on a beat later, hoping to encourage him. 

“That’s all you needed to say.” He stands back up and you groan as he yanks the tool out of you, running his fingers through your wetness as you hear the rustling of fabric and zippers before something thick and soft swipes through your folds. As he sinks himself into you at last one of his hands grips the meat of your hips so hard you’re certain it’ll bruise. The other holds the metal linking your cuffs as he pulls you back onto him, impaling you on his cock at a distressingly slow pace. 

Ask for it. 

“Please sir- I need you- I need you to fill me up.” 

“Such a polite girl.” You can hear his grin as he slams forward. Your hips are flush now as he thrusts his throbbing member into your soaking heat. “Such a- sweet cunt.” He groans as you slump forward, the size of him knocks the wind out of you as he splits you open. His cock stretches you open wider than ever before as he immediately takes on a punishing pace. 

Your body is on fire, your nerves igniting as he pounds into you. The hand on your hip moves lower, circling your clit sending another jolt of fire through your veins as you barrel towards an unavoidable orgasm. 

You cry out as he angles his hips to hit that spot inside of you and all too quickly you tumble over that edge, strangling his cock within you as you spasm wildly. Your eyes flutter shut as you soak him. 

He doesn’t let up for a second. 

“Gonna give you enough attention to keep you content for a few days.” He spits out through grit teeth, already pushing you towards another climax your body isn’t at all ready for. 

“So fucking needy. Maybe I should make some toys for you to play with while I’m working.” He grumbles, you feel his thumb prodding at your other entrance as you gasp. “Could make you something real pretty to put in here.” You nod furiously as he laughs, rocking his hips forward again. It’s a good thing you’re being held up by the anvil because your legs go limp underneath you as you come again. He pinches your clit, nowhere near hard enough to hurt but enough to make you sob as your eyes go wet from the overstimulation of everything that’s happening. “Think you can give me one more?” The dominating condescending tone is gone as he leans down, his helmet knocking against your spine as if he’s kissing you there. 

“I- I don’t know.” You manage to whisper out as he slows his brutal pace, an act of mercy to your puffy, sensitive cunt. 

“Do you wanna try?” His voice is sweet now as he stills inside of you. Keyword there is try. Your skin tingles in a way that is nearly painful as you nod. 

“Yes sir.” You turn your head to the side, resting the hot skin on the cold steel.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, starting a new pace, a gentler one as he pushes the blunt head of his cock against your cervix, pulling a drawn out whine from your chest. “That’s it, just a little more, such a good girl, so good for me.” He begins to ramble as his thrusts grow a little erratic and sloppy, his fingers tensing against your hips as he stumbles forward, his entire body flush with yours as he empties himself into you. You can feel the warmth leaking between the two of you as you’re hit with an entirely new sensation that makes you come one last time. Your vision goes entirely white now as tears wash down your face. He steadies you, holding you through it and whispering more praises that don’t entirely register before he carefully pulls out of you. Your eyes remain shut as he carefully takes your wrists, after a moment they’re back at your side as he puts you back together. Pulling up your panties and tights, keeping his cum inside of you in the process as he lays you on your back, eventually sitting you up. “Are you okay?” 

You grin. 

“Yes, sir.” He chuckles, leaning forward just enough to tap his helmet against yours for a moment. You look down at your wrists where the metal bands remain. 

“I made them for you, they aren’t always shackles, they're pretty when they aren’t stuck together.” You bring them up to your face, getting a closer look at the intricate details. There’s a small mythosaur embossed on each one. A symbol, something that binds you to him. 

“I love it.” You smile up at him, looking around the still dirty shop. “I should probably catch up on my work…” You start to stand but he sits you back down. 

“Take the day off, worry about it tomorrow.” He walks past you, you turn to watch him throw more kindling into the forge. 

“What are you gonna do with the rest of your day?” You tilt your head, watching as he takes the hammer that was inside you only moments ago and spins it in his hand. 

“I believe I owe you a couple of toys.” He tosses a handful of steel into the hearth as you sit back a bit and watch him start to work. 

a/n : this was ridiculous but also i did take it very seriously. this genre was what i was unapologetically born to write.

if you liked this and aren't familiar with my work this is a one off from my mandalorian series Best Kept Secret, which you can find here!!

I don't have taglists but follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on any and all fics!!

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hello! I've never sent an ask to anyone before, so I don't know if I'm doing this correctly! But I seriously love your aus, so I just had to try <3

For your monster!au, do you think that there is a difference in the kinds of food they eat between monsters and humans? The kinds of food, seasoning, preparation, how it's cooked, even the degree to which something is cooked. Especially with how you mention in another post about how some species can't eat certain foods.

Like, does Yuu (female pronouns please! Or gender neutral if you prefer) come to their world and have to figure out how to cook with ingredients she's never seen before, or does Yuu just start to cook things in ways the monster bois have never seen or thought of before? Would the boys enjoy it? Would it be safe for them?

Or do you think there wouldn't be much of a difference?

Also, out of curiosity, which species would you say has the most diverse diet?

I seriously love your page! Keep up the amazing work! Stay safe and stay healthy!💙💚😃

Thank you for sending in an ask! You did it correctly, don’t worry c: And thank you so much! I’m glad you love the AUs so much to send something in! ;;v;;

To a degree, the food being cooked in the Monster!AU would be different depending on the species. I know I’ve pretty much beaten the grape incident into grape juice already, but while some may be okay with eating it, other students can’t due to it being toxic (I looked it up, and cranberry wine is a thing. That means Crewel can still enjoy a glass of wine, and it’s possible that the monsters/ghost chefs would use it in cooking instead of grape-based wines!). The same could be said for certain herbs and spices that we take for granted being something that can make them sick or can be just as toxic as grapes, like onions or garlic. Chocolate can still be a thing for some species, but carob is the main alternative that’s available—which means Yuu will still have access to it at least!

There’s also an extra sensitivity to citrus based scents. Using citrus juice to cook something like ceviche for example would be difficult, as not many can even get past the smell even if the taste itself is amazing. Funny enough, there’s actually this one manga I came across called “His Majesty the Demon King’s Housekeeper” that actually touches up on this fact as citric acid is one of the few ways to clean certain stains off surfaces, but most of the cleaning staff in the mansion couldn’t stand the smell of the orange peels until it was turned into a powder form by the demon king. It’s such a cute manga, and has lots of helpful tips too, so it’s a win-win!

If you can’t tell by now, Slice-of-Life manga and stories are my jam. I love when they touch up on things that we don’t normally think about and put a spin on things! >v<

Anyway, as you can imagine, if (and that’s a major IF) we were strictly to focus on the ingredients we know in our world, recipes would have to be tailored to be suitable to each species to avoid causing issues while ensuring that each student has the right nutrients needed to sustain their bodies. This would have resulted in having to find alternatives that are safe for students to enjoy while still being able to ensure safety to avoid severe allergic or otherwise dangerous reactions to having something they shouldn’t.

That would be one helluva menu to try to cater to when you can’t use certain seasonings to flavor things. Good thing Crowley has those ghost chefs to work with the menu, because I certainly couldn’t fathom the mental gymnastics of creating that kind of menu! @.@

But to put it in perspective, it’s like trying to give chocolate to a cat or dog when we have alternatives such as carob as I mentioned earlier. Or how people who are lactose intolerant have almond or oat milk or even goat milk as an alternative, or how there are gluten-free alternatives for those who can’t have it due to celiac disease. Just to name a few examples anyway, since I know there are people out there who have restrictive diets due to health reasons.

Thankfully, these guys aren’t entirely missing out on flavor since in Twisted Wonderland—much like how they have unique flowers and plants such as mandrakes right around the corner—I’m sure there’s no limit to the types of ingredients that can be used to cook with! In fact, I’m reminded of this manga that I’ve stumbled across that I gotta start from the beginning known as “Delicious in Dungeon”. Basically, it’s where the characters are traveling in a dungeon and they not only find monsters and creatures to hunt and eat (not like there’s a grocery store or market inside a dungeon), but also demonstrate how to prepare and cook using the ingredients found in the dungeon as well as the creatures themselves. It just looks so delicious whenever they show the results and what you can do with the extra stuff you can’t eat!

But I digress. ^v^;

This means that Yuu will have lots of new ingredients to try and explore in various dishes, and this also means new opportunities to learn new recipes! Imagine what you’d be able to learn during the Master Chef event too!

So…what happens when you have a female human who has excellent taste buds and a love of cooking and also loves to cook for others? You’ve got a whirlwind of ingredients flying around and waves of delicious smells wafting through the air leading many drooling students investigating the source (and trying to sneak a bite).

Iron-stomach gourmet Grim is the one who gets to enjoy Yuu’s experimental cooking at first. After all, why shouldn’t he be able to enjoy the spoils of his hench-human cooking for him? He’ll try guiding her with his knowledge of flavors and what tastes good, and she learns which seasonings to use for each dish whenever she talks to Trey or Jamil or even Azul. His bragging of being the first to try true human cuisine wound up drawing in the first years, many curious to see her in action while others hoped to try and sneak in a free meal.

Imagine if she cooked two-three meals a day: mini waffles and giant pancakes that are several inches thick? She’s adding various fruits and berries and pairing it with the perfect syrup! Homemade chicken or beef soup? Simmering with noodles boiled to perfection! Roasted pork and beef stew? Veggie stir-fry? Baked fish? Burgers? Pizza??? Nothing is off the table when Yuu is in the kitchen! And don’t get started on the different desserts she could whip up with Trey!

Soon enough, word would have spread around the school about the human’s delicious cooking and it won’t be long before Yuu has visitors around every meal time.

/////

Yuu:*whisking eggs as the rice cooks* “Breakfast’s almost ready, Grim!”

Grim: “Hooray! Omurice cooked human-style~!”

Knock-knock-knock!

Yuu: “Come in!” *pouring the egg into two skillets before looking up* “Oh, hey guys!”

Ace: “Hey, Yuu! Whatcha making?”

Yuu: “I’m making omurice. I asked the chefs in the cafeteria how to make it and…wait…” *narrows eyes* “Did you guys come here just to get breakfast?”

Deuce: *sheepish* “Sorry, Yuu…we just really like the way you cook.”

Yuu: *sighs and smiles* “It’s okay. Next time, just let me know ahead of time so I can prepare more, okay?”

Grim: “Don’t even think of taking my portion!”

Ace: “Aww, is that any way to treat guests, Yuu?”

Yuu: “Grim, be nice.”

Grim: “What?! That’s not fair!”

Deuce: “I can wait my turn. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Yuu: “Could you chop up some more veggies and measure out the rice? Ace and Grim can have the first two, then we’ll have the next batch.”

Grim: “Stop encouraging them!”

Ace: “Oi! As if you don’t eat the food at the Unbirthday Parties!”

Grim: “Oh yeah?! Well I-mfh!?”

Ace: “Mfhg!?”

Yuu: *dusts hands after shoving two meat buns into their mouths* “There will be no fighting in my kitchen, you hear me?”

Ace and Grim: “Yeth m’m…”

/The Next Day/

Yuu: *standing in the doorway with a bowl of pancake batter* “…are you here to socialize or do you want to try some of my cooking?”

Silver: “Fa-I mean, Lilia…decided to cook breakfast today. He wanted to try and cook some old human recipes, but…”

Sebek: *looking mildly nauseous* “I did what I could to protect Lord Malleus, but…human food should not look like that.”

Yuu: “Ah, okay. Come on in. I’ll get another batch ready, so help yourself to the ones on the table! There’s fresh fruit and whipped cream there too.”

/////

I have a feeling that Yuu would be getting a lot of visitors from Diasomnia on days that Lilia does the cooking, and I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to feed them too! 😌

As for the “food bribes”…well, it’s kinda hard to argue with the results. Especially when they can be very valid trades. Yuu wants a specific utensil to make that special treat or meal? You’ll get first dibs on the finished dish!

Oh no, Yuu needs help with this potionology assignment and made too many cupcakes to eat by herself! If only someone could come and help with both…

As you said, there are many possibilities of how Chef!Yuu could take advantage of their knowledge and skill around the kitchen! And before I forget, if I had to choose which species would have the most diverse diet…I would have to say it’s a tossup between the basilisks and the faun and satyr species. Basilisk can essentially eat nearly anything without much issue as their stomach acid is strong enough to even digest rocks and crystals, whereas faun and satyr can eat most any plant and fruit or vegetable imaginable and can tolerate some forms of meat without issue. Though if you really want to enhance the dietary variety possibilities, Epel and Trey would have this in the bag as these two are hybrids of two different species, making them truly omnivorous like humans!

[dysfunctionalupsidedown]

An Analysis Of "STurn": My Turn

Hello, everyone! This is my first real post/analysis of anything Stranger Things related, so please keep that in mind while reading. I'm sure there are quite a few analyses about this playlist already (I'm definitely late to the party,) but I still wanted to add my two cents.

Feel free to let me know if any information I've provided is incorrect. My main source is Genius.com, which isn't at all the most reliable; even still, it'll help to give a clearer picture of each track's meaning and how the general public (which includes Finn) interprets them. I'm attempting to go by what I think Finn's intentions were.

Also, don't forget that this analysis was done under the assumption that the "STurn" playlist is a somewhat play-by-play outline of how specifically Mike Wheeler's S5 arcs might happen. The playlist could be entirely unrelated to ST5. It could be related to all the characters and arcs in ST5. It could be out of order, or based on vibes -- We really have no way of knowing until the full season comes out.

Finally, I tried my best to keep the analysis somewhat objective and reasonable, and I hope I've at least partly succeeded. This is all in good fun, in the end. Now that I've finished housekeeping, please enjoy my thoughts and feel free to chime in with your ideas in the comments! I'm always open to changing my perspective.

1. Ballad of the Texas King

Let's begin! This song starts with the lyrics, "No one saw / Nothing at all, no law was there to fight / All dressed down / Walkin' out in the California night". I believe this is a more surface-level vibe-setting song, considering where Mike ended in S4. It may also imply that the start of S5 begins where S4 left off. A lot of car imagery is also present throughout, which was a big part of Mike's S4 journey.

There are ideas of being separated as well, with lyrics like "My heart won't beat / 'Til we meet again together". This may allude to Mike's feelings towards the end of S4, having been separated from Hawkins/his family.

2. What You're Doing - Remastered 2009

Genius.com claims this song was written about Paul McCartney's then-rocky relationship at the time. The lyrics make this very clear, so there's really no alternate angle from which I can read. Let me know in the comments if you interpreted it differently.

In specific, the lyrics "You got me running / And there's no fun in it / Why should it be so much to ask of you / What you're doing to me?", "Please stop your lying / You got me crying, girl", and "I've been waiting here for you / Wondering what you're gonna do / And should you need a love that's true / It's me" really intrigue me. This could refer to Mike's relationship.

The song suggests that the partner may be withdrawing in multiple ways, with the singer grieving over it and attempting to prove their love. El may be starting to distance herself, and Mike could be struggling with it. At the end of S4, El was understandably focused on her failure, to the point where she hadn't really spoken to Mike in the days following it.

I don't think it would be surprising if everything was too much and she ends up pushing herself away from him. I wouldn't say it's implying a break-up, but maybe distancing issues.

3. After The Earthquake

Again, it's pretty surface-level in the beginning. There was a devastating earthquake in-universe, which supports the theory that "STurn" connects to ST5 in some way. The song tells a story, though, and I recommend looking up it's inspiration.

Despite the choice seeming surface-level at first, After The Earthquake may be implying more for Mike in ST5. Genius.com's contributors interpret the song's narrative as, "[Molly Rankin applying the] concept of post-catastrophe clarity to a couple that got into a major disagreement before one of them falls into a coma from a car crash... In a metaphorical sense, [the song] could describe a more mild situation in which Rankin must put their conflict on hold because something more important turns up." I don't think it's too far-fetched to say that Finn picked up on this. The idea of a disagreeing couple and coma is also prevalent in ST, but like I said in the beginning, I'm going to try to connect these songs to Mike Wheeler specifically.

Although this may be me reading too deeply into it, the metaphorical meaning of the track pairs pretty well with the implications of What You're Doing. It also fits in well narratively, considering that more important things are happening aside from the drama -- the earthquake being one of them. Mike could be putting all of his current issues (internal-conflict-related, relationship, or otherwise) on hold for the moment. He continues to struggle with suppressing his problems later on in the playlist, as well.

4. Promises I've Made

This song is about mourning a lost or ex-lover. The opening lyrics, "Ever since you have gone, the days don't seem so bright / And I wish I could forget you but I can't / Ever since you have gone, I haven't felt quite right / And I promised I'd forget all that you meant" address this quite directly.

At this point, it's possible that Mike has either been broken up with or the pair have gone their separate ways for some reason. It wouldn't be too crazy to say something like that will occur and he'll grieve it, keeping in mind that one of Mike's main fears is losing El. I just don't know why they'd continue to make it the subject of conflict in S5 (unless it hasn't been fully resolved yet.)

Physical distance between the two also makes sense when considering that Mike is, supposedly, teaming up with other characters next season. Personally, I'm leaning slightly more towards a break-up because of what the previous songs have set up, but, ultimately, it's up to interpretation. It's possible they've just been physically distanced while in a bad spot.

5. Angst In My Pants

This song is about a person attempting to be someone they're not, suppressing who they really are, and it ultimately leading to dissatisfaction. The lyrics, "You can dress nautical / Learn to tie knots / Take lots of Dramamine / Out on your yacht" describe a faux lifestyle one lives that only serves to hurt them in the end: The idea of putting on a self-harming persona. This could be what Mike is going through in S5, and his teased wardrobe change from S4 supports this.

The lyrics, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go away / It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" and, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go 'way / Give it a hundred years / It won't go 'way" are particularly fascinating and can have multiple interpretations.

For one, it could be Mike trying to hide his real personality following Eddie's death and the collective panic by acting out a more "normal" and "idealized" life -- painfully repressing his true self in the process. This is supported by the lyrics I first discussed. Hiding and embracing differences is a theme in Stranger Things, and I wouldn't be surprised if this is where they take Mike in S5.

Another interpretation involves the previous lyrics, as well as, "But when you think you made it disappear / It comes again, 'Hello, I'm here'". This sounds more like someone trying and failing to suppress a thought. Coupled with "It's just a passing phase", it appears to be a feeling or belief instead of someone's true personality, although I do believe that's a big part of it, too.

Whatever it may be, Mike is definitely struggling with something at this point. He's pushing it down, hiding it, and hoping "..it doesn't show" and that "It'll go away".

6. The Better Side - Audiotree Live Version

Half way through! This one gave me more of a challenge because there aren't any written lyrics to analyze. From what I can gather, the track is about a person yearning for someone who is a better fit(?) The lyrics that best support this interpretation are, "You're on the better side / You're always the better one for me" and "Don't make me do the falling when I'm drinking of you". Again, if you have any alternate interpretations, please let me know. I'd like to take all ideas into account.

The final lyrics are interesting, "And you're all that I need / I'm not gonna miss you anymore". This can be read as the narrator longing to accept a person into their life and bring them closer. I'm especially interested in the final line because it implies there was something to miss, as if an emotional rift or gap was there.

Mike has come to a realization about something, as shown in Angst In My Pants, and it might partly be about a new thought he's trying to push down, "It'll go away". It's possible the "thought" is about newly developing feelings he isn't ready to accept(?) I don't want to say for certain, though. Nonetheless, it seems like he recognizes this person's importance and "better fit" for him, despite trying to repress it. A fairly surface-level read, but it's the only conclusion I'm able to come to.

Alternatively, it might be about El. The distance apart could be what gets him to solidify how he feels about her. However, Angst In My Pants and multiple songs establishing a separation precede The Better Side. The track is about a better option, as well. Those facts alone make me think of this interpretation as unlikely, so it's not one I personally hold.

7. Don't Ask Me to Explain

Don't Ask Me to Explain is about two people who are afraid to confess their true feelings to one another, so instead they hide them; with one of the two seemingly more uncertain. It's also, from what I've researched, supposedly about two people of the same gender. There's a possibility that this is irrelevant to the track's purpose in the playlist, but I kept it in mind considering the other songs and my personal interpretation. It's also important to note that these "true feelings" could be about a multitude of things.

The lyrics, "How will I ever know you enough to love you / If you're hiding who you are?", "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?", and, "Besides, I don't want to be the one who's coming out first / I'd really like to but I'm just too shy" support this reading.

I interpreted the last line, "It's so easy to laugh to myself / And pretend that I could love you but I can't" in two different ways. Either it's the narrator doubting their feelings for someone else, or it's the narrator recognizing that they can't let themselves embrace their love for someone, for one reason or another.

As for Mike, his progression makes the most sense to me in the following interpretation. There are multiple and, again, please let me know your ideas in the comments. I narrowed it down to just the one so I don't start nit-picking.

Mike went from a realization, "It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" (Angst In My Pants) to a sort of acceptance, "You're always the better one for me" (The Better Side) to struggling to admit it out loud, "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?"

An LGBTQ+ or "new love interest" interpretation is what I'm able to gather from this. It could describe Mike falling for 'someone' and not knowing how to be open about it due to fear and doubt; with the other person feeling the same way. It may be a surface-level reading, and I'm sure there are several other ways to interpret the track, but that's what I've been able to conclude thus far.

8. What Do You Want Me To Do?

This one might be the most difficult for me to figure out, but I'm going to try.

The song and the lyrics, "You walked out, took your chance / You turned your back on our romance / You said you found somebody new / You said the change'd do you good" and "You never even gave me a thought / You figured that would be all right / I nevеr had a chance to persuade you / You nеver let me put up a fight" remind me a lot of What You're Doing.

One way to look at it is that it might have the same purpose as What You're Doing -- adding a sort of angsty frustration vibe. I don't know if it would be used to set up a "come crawling back" moment because I don't think that would make sense (especially in Stranger Things), but it's a random possibility I'm throwing out there.

Alternatively, the 'person' that Mike has feelings for could have rejected him for someone else(?) Again, I don't think this would make much narrative sense in Stranger Things, but we don't know what the next season's going to look like.

I'm personally reading it as the former because there are other songs in the playlist used to set the tone. Keeping What You're Doing and Promises I've Made in mind, an additional break-up song is on theme. There's still the possibility of another conflict, though. If anyone else has different thoughts on what the song could be implying, I'd appreciate the input.

9. Substitute - Live

This track is about an idealized version of someone being put in place of their true self. The narrator describes a scenario in which their partner sees a version of them, "I'm a substitute for another guy / I look pretty tall but my heels are high / The simple things you see are all complicated / I look bloody young, but I'm just back-dated, yeah", that is unrealistic and put on, as seen in the lyrics "Substitute your lies for fact / I see right through your plastic mac / I look all white, but my dad was black / My fine-looking suit is really made out of sack" The couple also seem to be having issues with this, or in general, that they're not addressing, "It's a genuine problem, you won't try / To work it out at all, just pass it by, pass it by"

The concept of a guise applies well to Mike, as referenced in Angst In My Pants. A recurring theme of hiding oneself really makes me think Mike is going to completely abandon his interests for a different lifestyle. I believe Finn has also mentioned that Mike wants to be as "normal" as possible, so I can't wait to see where they take that idea. It could also be him realizing how he's been acting, and admitting that this "romanticized" version isn't true to him. I have hope that Mike will eventually learn to embrace his differences and what he enjoys.

While this part is a bit nit-picky, I feel it's fun to mention that the song was inspired by a lyric in The Tracks of My Tears by Smokey Robinson; the lyric being, "Although she may be cute / She's just a substitute". The line following this (which is also referenced in Substitute's Genius.com entry) is, "Because you're the permanent one". Funnily enough, these lyrics also fit into the narrative the playlist is laying out. They remind me a lot of what The Better Side represents.

Out of context, the lines from The Tracks of My Tears may imply that someone is either using another person as a substitute for an ex, or that someone is realizing they've been using their previous partner as a substitute for someone better. Both routes have the potential to happen in ST5. Although, I don't know if the idea of a literal substitute fits with what The Who was going for. The Tracks of My Tears is also not on "STurn", so take this part as a fun fact with a grain of salt on the side.

At the end of the day, we don't know Finn's motivation for adding Substitute, so this is what we'll have to go off of for now. I feel as though the former interpretation, a less literal "substitute," holds the most merit considering the theme of personas.

10. The Rebel Kind

Like The Better Side, I couldn't find any lyrics, so I'm doing it by ear. Though, I'm happy to say that this song is about a desire to embrace differences and rebellion. "We'll be free to run with the rebel kind" and "It's not easy, but I don't mind / I just want to run with the rebel kind" establish that. The track appears to tie into Mike's insecurity struggles throughout the playlist.

The lyric "They call us the rebel kind" hints to the panic brewing at the end of S4. Mike might start to embrace and stand behind his true self at whatever point this is in the season. The line following, "But they don't understand / The things a man must do to prove that he's a man", can be taken in different ways depending on how the lyrics are read.

It could be the narrator's struggle to keep up with societal norms before finally giving in to their truth instead of trying to conform, read as "they call us rebels but don't get how hard it is to for us to keep up." On the other hand, it could be the narrator commenting on how society doesn't understand people like them, and, by embracing their true self, it proves more about who they are than conforming ever would; read as, "you think we're the rebellious ones, but you don't understand that we're more self-secure and strong than you'll ever be."

I can see both of these interpretations working for Mike and his connection to the Party. The progression of insecurity in Angst In My Pants and potential realization of this guise in Substitute is wrapped up by Mike's self-acceptance here. I really hope this is how it plays out in S5.

11. Block Rockin' Beats

There's not much to analyze because this track has one repeated line of lyrics, but it's definitely here to set a tone. The song may have a similar vibe-setting purpose as What Do You Want Me To Do? and Ballad of the Texas King. That's just my theory, though. (A ST5 theoryyy!)

Perhaps this is a climax of sorts where the cast fight the "big bad." The music's tone is intense and sort of aggressive. It's definitely a fun addition to the playlist, whatever the song's purpose in it may be.

12. Just What I Needed

Finally, we have Just What I Needed. I read this song in two different ways.

The first way I interpreted it was as a love song about the narrator not caring about who this person is, and realizing they need them in spite of it all. The lyrics, "It's not the perfume that you wear / It's not the ribbons in your hair / And I don't mind you comin' here / And wastin' all my time", "Cause when you're standin' oh so near / I kinda lose my mind, yeah", and "I needed someone to bleed / Yeah, yeah, so bleed me" support this.

The second possible reading is that the narrator realizes they were/are in a codependent relationship and they still love the person. The lyrics, "I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to feed / I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to bleed" and "I don't mind you hangin' out / And talkin' in your sleep / It doesn't matter where you've been / As long as it was deep, yeah", could be read as more of a "you're what I needed at the time, but I still love you and want you in my life." With this reading, it's unclear whether or not the love is romantic or platonic. Maybe I'm looking too far into it, but this is what some Genius.com contributors brought up, and it would feel wrong to not include this understanding of the song.

I'm just assuming, since The Rebel Kind seemed to tie up Mike's self-security problem, that this track is supposed to imply a resolution with his romantic issues. Under that impression, there are a few ways we can look at it.

It could be an acceptance for who he has feelings for. He went from mourning a loss in Promises I've Made, noticing something and hoping it goes away in Angst In My Pants, potentially coming to terms with the fact that this person is his "better" choice in The Better Side, wanting to admit a truth but feeling doubtful in Don't Ask Me to Explain, comprehending that he's able to embrace his authentic self in The Rebel Kind, to now admitting, possibly out loud, that this person was "just what [he] needed". That could be far-fetched, but it's just what I picked up on throughout the playlist.

However, it may also pertain to his self-identity struggle that's hinted at throughout (can you tell that I love this part of Mike?) while also tying into his romance issues. He went through a difficult separation with someone in What You're Doing and Promises I've Made, put on a persona and suppressed his true self in Angst In My Pants, realized he couldn't keep it going and needed to address it in Substitute, embraced himself in The Rebel Kind, and now recognizes that the relationship may have been codependent and holding him back from fully dropping the facade: "I guess you're just what I needed" -- in the moment. I don't know if that's too in-depth of a read, but it's a possibility.

While not relevant to the playlist in it's context, it's fun to bring up the fact that Just What I Needed was apparently also the final track listed on the 'official' "Will's Castle Byers Classics" playlist created by Spotify. It's not available anymore, so I can't really say it as a fact. Although, recreations of the playlist have been made long before "STurn" was a thing, and the song was added as the last track as far back as 2018. I suppose that's proof enough that it was at least on the playlist.

Finn listing it as the final track may be a reference to "Will's Castle Byers Classics", but it's also likely that there's no association. That's why I gave the song an equal amount of analysis instead of writing it off as a reference. As to how canon those playlists are, I don't think it particularly matters. It's true that Finn could've seen Just What I Needed in the Will playlist and put it on "STurn", thinking of it as a fun easter egg. There could or could not be implications for that and I'd be remiss to ignore it. I don't know if this rings true for any of the other songs on "STurn" as well -- if they're connected to any other character playlists. Feel free to let me know if they are!

TL;DR

This was really hefty post, and I apologize for that, so here's a summary/recap of what I think S5 may have in store for Mike Wheeler.

Summary:

The season likely starts off at the end of S4, with us seeing Mike react to everything that's happened in Hawkins and reuniting with his family. Tension or unresolved conflicts may be arising in his relationship(s) as well, but he puts it aside to focus on the more important tasks at hand. Either his relationship is put aside with this, or there's an eventual separation that occurs, and he mourns it. After, he tries to maintain normalcy and puts on a guise to appease others. During this time, he may start to have a realization about something that he attempts to repress. He eventually comes to terms with it, though, recognizing that there's someone (maybe something?) better for him. He wants to admit to these true feelings, but he'll struggle with hiding, doubting, and fearing them; thinking he can't allow himself to fully love this person or, at least, admit to whatever feelings or "truth" he possesses. Mike will most likely continue to struggle with mixed feelings and hiding his true personality after this, eventually admitting to not being fully authentic. He'll then accept his true self for what it is. This will lead into a climax, where the main conflict of the show will be resolved. Finally, he'll accept and admit his true feelings, realizing that all he needed to do in the end was be entirely honest with (and about) himself.

In Conclusion

I really want this to be where they take Mike in ST5. It would be such a satisfying thing to watch, especially with how he's acted the past two seasons. I think he deserves to have a self-love/acceptance arc because the show has made it clear he's insecure and inauthentic.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts and interpretations in the comments, as well as if there's anything you think I should add/fix. I'd love to hear what others have to say about "STurn" and it's connections to ST :)!

[literary-motif]

Isaac says sth hurtful/insensitive to Pickle about their past and realizes he could've been more careful with their feelings.

Cold

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

“When did you get a new pet?” Vic asked. 

Isaac huffed, rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his whiskey. “That’s none of your business. Let’s return to the case, shall we?”

“You know,” Vic said, leaning back in his chair and looking around the room, “I’ve never seen the place so shiny before. They’re doing pretty well.”

“Vic, we are not here to discuss my housekeeper.”

He smiled, retrieving a folder of documents from his coat and placing it on the table. “It makes a nice addition to our talk though,” he said, sliding it out of Isaac’s reach as he tried to grab it. “Now tell me, did you look into them properly?”

Isaac got up, a quiet anger burning in his eyes as he looked at him. “I don’t have time for this,” he said coldly, “either you talk to me about things that actually matter here or you are welcome to stop wasting my time.”

“I don’t want you to get murdered in your own home, Isaac,” Vic said, equally cold as he held his gaze. “Enough people died here, wouldn’t you agree?”

You could feel the tension in the dining room all the way to the kitchen. 

The door was open, giving you an unobstructed view of it through the reflection of the window in front of you. Their voices were slightly muffled, but you could hear every word exchanged between them as you continued chopping vegetables for dinner. 

“Listen to me, Vic,” Isaac spat, the reminder of his family fueling his anger until he slammed his hands down on the table, glaring at Vic as he towered over him, “I can take care of things myself. They are nothing but a housekeeper, a very mild security risk at most and if you think they are part of some ploy to get to me then you should have seen them pathetically pleading for their life in that dirty alley I scraped them up from!”

“Struck a nerve there, did I?” Vic said with a smirk, passing the folder to Isaac. He got up, buttoning his suit jacket and giving Isaac another warning look. “I trust your judgment. Make sure your plaything stays on the floor.”

“With their background of licking other people’s boots, I think my pet’s quite comfortable on their knees,” Isaac said, taking the folder and leading Vic to the door to see him off.

Neither of them noticed the methodical thumping from the kitchen ceasing. You stood frozen, tears blurring your vision as you put the knife down and gripped the counter. 

Was that what he thought of you? 

You thought there was mutual respect between you. Isaac seemed so kind and understanding of your situation, making you feel appreciated and secure after years of being taken advantage of. He had helped you after you had been left to fend for yourself for the majority of your life, taking care of you and offering you a way out of your dreadful circumstances. 

Was that only a pretense? Did he just collect the most pathetic person he came across so he could help them, make them feel indebted, make them feel loved to secure their loyalty when in reality, they were only a replaceable pawn in his game, ready to be discarded the moment they ceased to be useful? 

“Pickle, I hope you got a headstart on dinner. I’m starving—” Isaac said, halting in the doorway as he saw your hunched posture and shaking shoulders. “Are you hurt? What happened?” he rushed to your side, turning you to face him and checking your hands. 

There was no blood. You seemed unharmed, and he heaved a small sigh of relief. 

You snatched your hands out of his grip, stepping back as you wiped the tears from your face. Isaac looked up, his heart seizing painfully in his chest when he looked into your bloodshot eyes. 

Your expression was anguished. You looked hurt. He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat as he saw you crying in front of him. 

“I— I need to talk like that in front of him,” he said, hearing his heart thundering in his chest. 

He had not meant what he said, but it was exactly what Vic needed to hear to stop breathing down his neck. He needed to keep up the uncaring and detached facade he put up. It was imperative in his line of work. 

“Pickle, I never meant—”

“I am not well,” you croaked, cutting him off. You needed to get away from him, curl up on your bed, and piece back your shattered heart because the only person you had allowed yourself to trust in years had betrayed you as well. “You said I get sick leave. I am not well, so I can’t finish dinner. There are leftovers in the fridge. Leave the kitchen as it is. I will clean up tomorrow morning.”

“Pickle,” Isaac said, taking hold of your wrist and stopping you from leaving. “You have to understand I didn’t mean any of it. I—”

You tugged your arm free, not turning to face him as another wave of tears crashed over you. “Goodnight, sir,” you gasped, quickly walking to the door but halting before leaving the room.

A small sliver of hope lit up Isaac’s eyes as he waited, quickly extinguished again at the words you uttered.

You took a shaking breath, wiping the tears from your face again. You turned to face him. “I don’t require coddling. If you think I’m your pet and you want to play master, say it and stop making a fool out of me!”

Isaac watched you leave, his chest tightening with regret with every choked sob he could hear coming from your bedroom. He cursed himself for being so careless, taking your past and spinning it into something to appease his colleagues. 

With time, he hoped you could forgive him. With time, perhaps he could earn back your trust. 

[midwestbramble]

Foraging in Witchcraft

I'm a big fan of working with the land, and one of the easiest ways to do so is by gathering your own plants. This is also free! No having to stop at an occult/metaphysical shop to pick up that random plant you forgot you needed. I will be making individual posts on different plants that can be foraged in my own bioregion, but first we should go over a few tips and housekeeping notes about foraging and witchcraft.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Contents:

Natural Isn't Always Safe

Laws and Foraging

Invasive vs. Native vs. Naturalized

Animistic Foraging

Conclusion

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Natural Isn't Always Safe

First thing I want to get out of the way is that not everything you find outside is going to be safe to put in your body or even touch. On top of that, not everything that is safe for someone else is going to be safe for you. We each have different bodies and how we react to something will not always be the same. When you first start foraging, it's important to have a guide book that will tell you of any safety measures to take when dealing with a plant. Some will interact with medications in ways that are not healthy, some have fluid that can make your skin photosensitive, and some... some people are just allergic to.

When it comes to medications, you can find contraindications (when not to ingest something) with a quick google search of "[plant name] contraindications." Generally this will give you a safe answer, however always check with your doctor if you are unsure. Better to pay for a consultation than a hospital visit.

Some risks come from the environment that the plant grew in. If you are foraging near train tracks or buildings that could leach lead into the soil, the plants will pick that up as well. Contaminated soil and pesticides sprayed onto the plants can also lead to health risks. Be very mindful of where you are foraging.

Some plants that are safe will also have toxic look-alikes. A famous look-alike is wild carrot and poison hemlock (thank you Oregon Trail video game). Unless you know what characteristics you are looking for, it's very easy to confuse the two plants. One is a delicious snack, while the other is highly toxic (the poison hemlock), to the point of causing muscle death and kidney failure. This isn't to scare you away from foraging. Only to drive home the importance of making sure you know what you are gathering.

*credit to the Minnesota Department of Agriculture

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Laws and Foraging

I am a resident of the United States so these will be more geared towards that country. It would be to your benefit to look into the foraging laws of your own country/state anyway, as it can still differ. The majority of states in America prohibit foraging on public lands, which makes it really hard for those who don't own their own property. If you live in Alaska and Hawaii, however, congratulations your local government allows it. Even among those states that do allow it, there can be designated areas where it's not allowed such as a nature preserve. Breaking these laws tends to come with a hefty fine and possible jail time, if caught. Though these laws are hard to find with a quick google search, especially for a specific area.

The laws in the United States prohibiting foraging are generally colonial, imperial, classist, and racist (surprise, surprise). Foraging was protected by law well into the 1800s (except for Native Americans who were pushed off their ancestral hunting and gathering grounds), even when doing so on another person's private property. After the Civil War, many newly-freed African-Americans would sell their foraged and hunted goods for an income, while also using the practice to become self-sufficient. The southern plantation owners needed this system to go away so they could chain what used to be their "property" to their old line of enslaved work. Starting with criminal trespass laws. Eventually anti-foraging laws spread to the average white rural American. Outside elites began to believe that the "backwards" people of the countryside, who made a subsistence living off the practice of foraging, fishing and hunting, could not be trusted with the stewardship of the land; using "conservation" as a way to "protect" it from the people who lived there (Linnekin, "Food Law Gone Wild: The Law of Foraging" p.1008-1014).

I do believe we need to protect our resources and lands. However, foraging can be regulated, not outright outlawed as it is. Learning about the plants and animals that live around us and can help us in our lives, leads us to learn more deeply about their role in the environment and just WHY we should protect them...

All this to say, look into your local foraging laws (and how local law enforcement actually enforces them, if they do at all) and then you can decide if you want to follow them or not. At your own risk.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Invasive vs. Native vs. Naturalized

There is a lot of talk in foraging communities about invasives vs. natives. Sometimes even bringing in naturalized plants. So let's talk a little bit about what these words mean in ecology and how this may effect your foraging habits.

Invasive and naturalized plants have one thing in common; they are both transplanted outside their natural ecosystem. A plant that is invasive in one place, can be naturalized in another. What matters is the impact the plant has on the ecosystem it has been transplanted into.

Invasive =  plants or animals that harm regional ecosystems.

Naturalized = plants that have successfully established and reproduced in a new environment, integrating into their new home without inflicting ecological harm.

To make things a bit more complicated, let's introduce the 10% rule. According to the Huron River Watershed Council, "the '10% rule' postulates that of all species introduced to a region outside of their native range, only 10% will survive to reproduce in their adopted environment. This 10% of non-native survivors are often called 'naturalized' plants. Of that 10%, another 10% (or 1% of the original non-native transplants) may thrive to such an extent that they dominant their new home, out competing their native neighbors. These prolific competitors are known as invasive species."

So what makes a native plant? The US Forest Service defines a native plant as "plants [that] are indigenous terrestrial and aquatic species that have evolved and occur naturally in a particular region, ecosystem, and habitat. Species native to North America are generally recognized as those occurring on the continent prior to European settlement."

Some native species can be endangered due to habitat loss from agriculture and/or competing invasive species. It's good to have a list (many state DNR (Department of Natural Resources) will have a list available on their website) printed so you know which ones should be cultivated in your garden if you wish to work with them. Avoiding these and working with invasive species can help with conservation efforts as well. Native species can still be worked with in the wild if they are not endangered.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Animistic Foraging

You'll often see witches giving advice about asking the plants permission before harvesting. This is from the belief that the plant has a spirit, an animistic belief. Asking permission to harvest isn't the only way we can forage mindfully and with respect to the plant. The way that I do this is by following the Honorable Harvest set out by Robin Wall Kimmerer (a Potawatomi botanist, and the director of the Center for Native Peoples and the Environment at the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry) in her book "Braiding Sweetgrass."

Know the ways of the ones who take care of you, so you may take care of them.

Introduce yourself. Be accountable as the one who comes asking for life.

Ask permission before taking and abide by the answer.

Never take the first, never take the last.

Take only what you need.

Take only what is given.

Never take more than half. Leave some for others.

Harvest in a way that minimizes harm.

Use it respectfully. Never waste what you have taken.

Share.

Give thanks for what you have been given.

Give a gift in reciprocity for what you have been given.

Sustain the ones who sustain you and the earth will last forever.

The first rule really helps you to follow the rest of them. Know the plant. Walk by it several times, offer water even if you aren't taking something, say hello. These plants are our neighbors and when we harvest we are asking for their help.

⸙༄𓆤𓆩𓆪❁𓇢𓆸🏵

Conclusion

Each plant will have it's own method of harvest to minimize the harm done to it. Some you have to pull the whole thing up, but there are ways to repopulate it. It's so individual that I couldn't add it to this post. Hopefully what's written here can help you keep a few things in mind when going out and learning about your local flora.

Foraging can be a great way to connect with your land and learn about it. Getting your hands dirty and making you feel as if you are a part of the landscape. Hopefully the first couple of sections didn't scare you off. Get a couple of good guidebooks for your region (the local library is a good place to start) and you're good to get out there and start identifying plants you want to work with!

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: the career number

the number we are focusing on today is based on the SACRAL PHYSICS NUMBER AND THE FLOW NUMBER (ex: my career number is 7: 8 + 17 = 25 -> 2 + 5 = 7 (recall that numbers must be summed a second time if they total 23 (i.e. 2 + 3 = 5) and above)). for some reason this is a calculation error in my astro-calc chart - my monetary number and relationship numbers are swapped (don't be afraid to question your numbers and check the math of websites).

but what does this number mean?

this number represents your career and monetary situation in this lifetime. that being said, this number can give you insight into what you can do for a career long-term, what you are like at work (your strengths and weaknesses in the workplace), and your monetary mindset.

so let's talk about some examples:

7 - the chariot

click here for the card description of the chariot found in a prior wyrd web post.

for unblocked 7s it is important to maintain focus, have clear intentions, and a plan in their line of work. they often work from the bottom up - they start in an entry level position then come into power (in some theories, the charioteer was both the page of swords and the page of wands before they came into power in the major arcana). often it is their careful planning and plotting that gains them their success.

blocked 7s often lack confidence at work and fear being talked down to / judged for their actions. they often lack focus and direction, which causes them financial stress. they are in need of careful planning and reflection to get out of their burdensome situations. they should try to be less impulsive and more intentional at work and when searching for jobs in order for them to find what works for them.

careers for the charioteer are chauffeur, delivery driving (UPS, amazon delivery, mail, etc), military services, pilot, police men, emergency services (firefighting, EMT, etc), security guard, equestrian, chemist/pharmacist, chef/cook/baker/nutritionist, political diplomat, marine biology, phlebotomist, ship captain, babysitter/nanny, hotel manager, housekeeper, fisherman, fertility specialist, farmer, land baron/baroness, pottery maker, plumber, real estate agent, and other related fields.

14 - temperance

rider-white's temperance (symbolic of sagittarius) depicts an angel facing the view with their eyes shut. their purple-y/red wings emphasizes their passion for the mystical as well as harmony. their golden curls are haloed showing that the angel is an enlightened being. they stand in a white (innocence) robe with one foot on land and the other in water - which shows they are connected to the emotional and the physical world. water seamlessly flows between the cups, meaning to show the flow of energy in life forces. a sun (alludes to the sun card) rises in the distance and illuminates a path for the angel to take. the irises to their [the angel's] right show that they have the wisdom needed to take on whatever gets in their way on this journey.

unblocked 14s seek help from those around them so that they can reach their monetary and career goals. they look for signs as to what they should act upon in their career and as to what they should do for their long-term career. they are flexible at work and are often very even-keeled. they are patient at work and when it comes to making money.

blocked 14s often try very hard at work and to make a lot of money - they can be too hard on themselves and their co-workers. they might struggle with relaxing - they have a lot of monetary stress. they have to realize that being overworked does not mean they are working efficiently/effectively. look at you schedule / your role and try to find ways to slow down so that you can realign with your values and goals.

careers for the angelic temperance person are medical careers (doctor, nurse, etc), pharmacist, scientist, librarian, life insurance agent, marketing/advertisement, air steward/stewardess, attorney, banker, religious leader, teacher, philanthropist, philosopher, publisher, podcaster, radio show host/hostess, writer, and other related fields.

18 - the moon

rider-white's the moon (symbolic of pisces) depicts one wild dog/coyote and one tame dog (the duality of human nature) barking at the moon or rather an eclipse. behind and between the two dogs is a lobster - the lobster is a bottom feeder of sorts, thus could represent the shadow self. the lobster emerges from the water to walk a moonlight/guided path through the mountains similar to how the hermit once walked the mountains - thus alluding to the lobster doing self-discovery / the quartet doing shadow work. first the lobster must walk between the rebuilt towers - likely face personal change.

unblocked 18s embrace their darker selves when in the workplace - they are okay with failing and having weaknesses. they see it as room made to grow/evolve. while they know how to be civil, they also know when to be impulsive and aggressive to get things done. they are open to others ideas - they are open to learning what they perviously didn't know before. they are ambitious and want to go outside the scope of what they are already know. they don't fall for things that sound too good to be true in their financial realm. they are willing to confront why they maybe the ones in their own way of gaining more money, getting a raise, etc.

blocked 18s often refuse to acknowledge that they are in a career that is making them unhappy or is not compatible with their monetary lifestyle. they might be the type to ignore their debts for awhile or to the point where it gets bad and they struggle to catch up / recover. they are also prone to falling for "get rich quick" schemes; they also might struggle with gambling - the might not know how to walk away when they have made money back / are gaining. they hate failing at things or having weaknesses in the workplace. they are prone to staying in a job that is comfortable for them without growing or accepting promotions. don't be afraid to break free.

careers for the moon are night club owner/manager, psychic, doggie daycare center management, dog kennel owner, dog breeder, night club performer, professional water sport athlete, alcohol vender, sommelier, marine biology, art therapist, artist, bartender, mental health professional, chemical engineer, detective, drug manufacturer, life guard, prison guard, private investigator, relief worker, writer, and other related fields.

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© a-d-nox 2023 all rights reserved

[cool-cowboy]

Summary:

In which an android Leon reveals some features to his model you were not aware of beforehand, then gives you a prime example of how he's better than a human man. I have no idea where this came from, just popped into my head and I figured someone out there would enjoy, so yeah, enjoy!

Tags:

Android Leon S. Kennedy, Obsession, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Master/Servant, alternate universe, Dirty talk, grinding, overstimulation, forced orgasm, babbling, crying

Blurb:

“I just… Didn’t know you had… Those kind of features.”

“Sorry. You’ve never expressed feelings of lust before, only now your heart rate is picking up, perspiration levels above average... Would you like me to enable sexual interaction in the options menu?”

Text:

“Leon, I’m home!” I tuck my shoes into their little spot beside the door, shucking off my jacket and leaving it on its hook, wandering through and into the family room, spotting him, standing perfectly still along the wall, blue neon swirling around his eyes, the only tell I get when an update is underway, other than his lack of response. I decide to leave him be, walking off into the kitchen, getting my things ready to cook supper, the lighting brighter than I like it in the evening, my trusty android friend not awake to employ my usual light and ambience settings, the quiet a little disturbing when I’m so used to the light music he puts on when I arrive home.

I cook in relative silence, making a meal for one, missing the chatter of my robot companion, curious to hear about his update, why it’s taking so long. It’s not traditional, the purpose I have for owning a device like him, usually they’re nothing but a housekeeper, someone to take care of the home and complete menial tasks, but I don’t find that useful, just enjoy having someone around, a friend, something like that. I’ve never assigned him a task, but he craves it, gives himself objectives if I can’t, tries his hardest to cater to my needs even if I don’t speak them.

I sit down with my meal, eating in quiet, seated at my little island, his chair empty, the space a little cooler than I like it. I’m bored, never used to quiet anymore, not with my constant companion making sure to keep conversation flowing, his devotion to me seeming more real than it probably is, his care programmed into him, but there nonetheless. He’s been speaking about feelings lately, if he’s capable, something that would usually get him sent in for a reset, but I don’t mind, and I do think he’s capable, his mind is superhuman after all.

“There you are.” He’s human, on the outside, looks perfectly believable, could walk around with me and have no one suspect he isn’t a normal man, the only difference what’s on the inside, some mechanical shit I have no idea how to explain, and AI that lets him know what I’m thinking, his intelligence unmatched, his mind full of anything I could ever want to know.

“How was the update?” He takes his seat beside me, straight-backed, his formality with his mannerisms something that took me a while to get used to, his speech slowly morphing to mimic mine, a comfort thing programmed into all androids to give a sense of familiarity, comfort with something often viewed as subhuman. His eyes glow blue, ready to rattle off the specs he’s downloaded, his voice a little more robotic than usual, his script taking him over.

“Update 16.2b, major tweaks under the belt, more realistic orgasm simulation, bugs fixed regarding the timed orgasm system, facial expressions refined, new commands available, more realistic erection phases, see more online at Update dot my android dot net.” I sit there, mouth gaping, not sure at all what to say to all that, never even thought about using my friend in that way, was never told I could, if I did want to. “Is something wrong?” I set my fork down, pushing my plate back, my appetite gone, some unwarranted butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

“I just… Didn’t know you had… Those kind of features.” He looks at me, eyes flashing blue, scanning my vitals, something that used to seriously creep me out, but doesn’t bother me much anymore, it’s habitual, a way for him to see how I’m feeling, get truths I’m not willing to give.

“Sorry. You’ve never expressed feelings of lust before, only now your heart rate is picking up, perspiration levels above average.” I don’t say anything, embarrassed he can tell so much about me, know my curious wants against my wishes. “Would you like me to enable sexual interaction in the options menu?” I can’t answer, too busy freaking out in my head, his blue eyes back to normal, still seeking information, always, gaze flitting over my face, small movements of my hands, his inspection leaving me on edge.

“So… You can feel pleasure?” I’m curious, though I’ve never wanted to use him, in any capacity, just wanted someone around, company, not a lover, especially not one who’s not in control of their own actions, autonomy not something he has much of, other than the settings I could turn off to let him have a little free reign, giving him permission to mill about while I’m gone, do as he pleases. He’s staring at me, head cocked, brows furrowed a little, his expression terribly human, inspecting me, trying his hardest to deduce my thoughts, his pointer finger drawing out calculations absently on the countertop as they run through his head.

“Not technically, pleasure is a chemical reaction, my form is just a simulation. I do feel it, the receptors go off when I complete a task. It’s new in update 14.6a, meant to be a better drive to please the owner. I assume you mean sexual pleasure, though. I can simulate it, up until orgasm, mostly realistic, other than the secretion part.” I have no idea why I’m just now hearing about this, most people would probably jump on the opportunity to have a partner so in tune with their body, literally able to do a scan and know what you need.

“Do you enjoy it, though? You want to?” He looks at me, my eyes, not doing any scanning, just looking at me, giving me a few seconds of quiet anticipation.

“You’re important to me, whether it’s programming or not, you’re attractive and a pleasant person, so I'd guess it would be enjoyable to please you in a more personal way, but I know you mean it differently… It’s not a craving I have, to satisfy myself, I mean, only to please you, in any way you see fit.” I swallow, his eyes flitting down, gazing at my hands, fisted and pressed to my thighs. It’s a moral dilemma, using something so intelligent for my own gain, but I suppose it can’t be too terrible, he’d get the equivalent of an orgasm, plus whatever pleased feeling he gets from making me happy. “You seem interested. I will turn on sexual activity permissions in the options menu.” Damn his autonomy, I may have went too far, allowing him access to his own options, his eyes glowing blue as he sinks into his own brain, flipping on whatever part of him has been dormant all this time before returning to me, his expression normal, no different than my usual Leon, casual, doting.

“You did it?” He nods, scanning me, not at all put off by my nervousness, looking at me again, a little more intense than usual, trying to figure me out.

“How was work?” I wonder if I have to initiate it, ask him for it. It would be preferable, though I don’t think I’ll ever use this hidden feature if he doesn’t just jump me, but that doesn’t seem fitting, he’s too soft spoken, reserved.

“Good, I got a new account today, diamonds, the commission is gonna be insane.” He seems pleased, a little whirring sound similar to a hum rumbling in his chest as he stands, moving to take care of my dish, no prompt necessary. I used to feel bad about it, but he really doesn’t mind, lives to care, I guess.

“That’s great. I sent over the files you asked for, they’re under 6.24.5 in the main folder.” I nod, glad he could locate them, my own search not going very well, the information integral to a company I’ve been assigned. He sets the dishes out once he’s done washing, set neatly in their little drying rack, his body moving swiftly back around the counter, his hand ghosting across the back of my shoulders making me flinch, not used to any casual touches between us, the only contact he really ever initiates is caring for any wounds he detects, little cuts, things like that. “You’re aroused, would you like me to-”

“You don’t have to.” My cheeks are flaming, thighs tight together, embarrassment hot on my skin, the light aroused feeling flaring now that he’s brought attention to it. He steps beside me, turning my chair around to face him, slotting himself between my knees, a light touch on my jaw drawing my eyes up, light blue trained on me, his forwardness dizzying, unexpected when I’m so used to his usual self.

“You’re uncomfortable, I can release that tension.” He runs his hand down my neck, smoothing over my shoulder, his touch light, my small shiver prompting him to squeeze a little, the warmth of his skin unexpected, even if I did know it was there, another human feature to make him more real. “You don’t need to worry about if I’d like to. I do, you know I live to please you.” That gets me, his voice lower than usual, a rough, sensual quality to it, his willingness not unexpected, but still shocking. He has a hand on my knee, inching up, almost too slow to notice, his other sliding back up my neck to keep my eyes on him, eye contact something he's always been a fan of, picked it up from conversations and my own mannerisms, is now using it to ruin me, make me nervous.

“I don’t know…” It’s weird, to proposition him in this way, even if it isn’t my idea, allowing it is still on me, my commands headed without any pushback, unless my decision is stupid, then he tells me all the reasons I’m wrong. He hums, sliding his hand back into my hair, his palm a little rough, his eyes peering down at me, a little lower than normal, all of him drawing me in, his actions and words and expression undeniably sexy, which makes sense, considering he has the entire internet and more at his disposal.

“I have to admit, I am curious. It’s my nature, I guess, but I wanna try it, feel the way humans do, engage in something so sought after.” He’s very convincing, convincing enough for me to refrain from stopping him when he starts to lean down, thumb pressing under my jaw to tilt my head up, hand on my lower thigh squeezing. He takes his time, watching my reaction, leaning in slow, his chest heaving with even breaths, his lips parted, close to mine. “Grant me sexual autonomy.” He’s never asked, never expected any of his autonomy settings, other than this one, I guess, not that I mind, I’d prefer he had it, didn’t do anything out of his control, revert into his more robotic self to fulfill my wishes.

“Turn on sexual autonomy in the options menu.” His eyes flash blue, his body going rigid, only for a moment, before he’s back, looking at me, seeming eager, searching my eyes for any sign of disapproval, finding none. He runs his hand further up my leg, eyes cast down to the contact, his lips parted, almost awed.

“Your skin is… Soft. Feels fuzzy, you’re so warm…” His processes are going haywire, I can see it on his face, his mind racing to keep up with what he’s doing, digging through all the information he has to do a good job. “I’ve never felt like this before, this kind of pleasure is different, like it’s for me.” He’s not meant to have feelings, of any kind, but he does, in his own way, lets his mood depend on his helpfulness, even if I’ve urged and convinced him to see himself as his own being, he’s not wired that way.

“It is… I don’t- uh, It’s about you too, okay?” He hums, the low whir in his chest making me smile, one of the few things that reminds me he’s a machine. He moves, tentative, his hand slipping further up my thigh, fingers holding onto my hair, pulling gently when his lips meet mine, plush and smooth, his kiss gentle, unsure, none of the information he has able to tell him the best way to go about this. I move against him, setting a little faster of a pace, letting my hand slide up his stomach, his shaky exhale breathed against my lips.

“Tell me what you like.” He presses his forehead to mine, looking at me, lips and cheeks flushed, his hand hot on my thigh. He can’t take it, not being fully prepared for everything, having to figure things out as they come, his algorithmic brain not able to work through something he has no expertise on. “Don’t just look at me, tell me what you want me to be.” His brows are drawing together, analyzing, trying to figure it out before I even reply.

“What do you wanna be?” He has a personality, one to suit mine, of course, but he never asked for it, developed it, like a child growing up. I don’t want him to play a role, he must have some sort of instinct on how to act, how to be without me commanding him.

“I don’t know.” He’s never not known, he’s a genius, of course, knows everything there is to know, figures out anything he doesn’t. He looks pained, searching my eyes for an answer I can’t give, his hand tracing his equations into my skin. “All I know is I want you… I wanna see you fall apart, make you feel good, be the best lover you could ask for.” I kiss him, bringing my arms up around his neck, drawing him closer between my legs, his pleased hum making me smile, a good reaction from him, real, not asked for, just genuine feeling. His hand slips further up my leg, up to squeeze gently over my hip, feeling me, not looking to please, just letting himself do what he wants, exploring one of the few things he doesn’t know much about, his own form of pleasure. He follows my lead, moving plush lips against mine, the feeling insanely real, the heat of him a little higher than usual, his body heating up in response to my touch, my hands dug into soft locs of hair, pulling gently to separate his lips from mine, his mouth pressing to mine in one last, feverish kiss before he pulls back, eyes wide, wild with untapped pleasure.

“Is this okay?” He nods, swallowing, his lips parting to draw in heavy breaths, his hand sliding up my side, hot over my shirt, his warmth making me both soft and want to squirm.

“Yes, feels good. This is… I never imagined I could feel like this. It’s you, I’m not supposed to feel desire, this isn’t in my programming… Don’t reset me, I’ll be good, swear. I won’t deviate, I just… This is not in the script…” He seems stumped, frustrated at his lack of understanding what’s going on inside him, but I suppose he isn’t meant to have this much freedom, live like a normal person, other than the fact he has no need for a job, and is a machine.

“Leon? It’s okay to feel, okay? You’re not a toaster, yeah?” He laughs, low and rough, shaking his head, some of the robotic tension leeching from him. “Stop thinking so much.” He nods, eyes flashing blue, returning to normal when he blinks it away. “Sorry.” I didn’t mean to command him, but he doesn’t mind, it happens all the time, and he’s happy to oblige, anyways.

“It’s okay… Should we… Continue?” I gulp, and he leans back in, kissing me the way I like, learning quickly, as always, his big hand sliding up my back, fingers teasing at the hem of my shirt before slipping up my spine, my back arching at the gentle touch, his little pleased noise vibrating against my lips. The chair isn’t very comfortable, and my neck is straining from him standing over me, and he knows it, parting his lips from mine and tilting my jaw back down, forcing me to look up at him through my lashes, his expression sinful, eyes low, lips lightly parted, all of him hot, his skin warmer than mine. “You’re uncomfortable.” I nod, not very happy he paused to say that, but glad he cares enough to not leave me in discomfort. “I’ll take you to your room.” He pulls me up out of my chair by my ass, letting my legs drape over his hips, a sizable erection between us, one of his arms holding me up, the other holding my head still as he dips down, kissing at my neck, slow and sweet, his lips spit-slick. He’s walking, letting himself move through the space without looking, letting out a pleased rumble when I exhale a shaky breath.

“Leon, you don’t have to be so gentle…” He groans, the sound low and guttural, his lips pressing a little more feverishly to my skin, his hand squeezing my ass, the other slipping up the back of my shirt, smoothing up my skin, ticklish, making me arch into him, my chest pressed to his, his happy sigh hot on my skin. He leans me back, supporting my weight until I’m laid out on my bed, him on his knees between my legs, scanning, eyes flashing bright before he closes them, ignoring his instinct to run his hands up my thighs, peering down at my face, pushing up on the hem of my shirt, exposing my stomach, his lips coming down to skim up my thigh, one hand on the outside of my knee, holding it still, his lips warm and wet as he trails them up, his eyes on mine, his free hand finding my hip, pressing me into the mattress as he makes his way to my stomach, kissing across the waist of my pants, up toward my belly button, watching me, holding me still with gentle, nonaggressive pressure.

“I need you to tell me… Wanna be good for you… Feels good to make you feel good. I can’t figure it all out, you told me not to think…” He’s a little out of it, not nearly as composed as usual, eyes hazy, movements a little less practiced, but still confident, what information he does have allowing him to not be too unsure of himself. I push him, frowning at his questioning look, forgetting he’s a mostly immovable object.

“Get off.” He pulls back, sitting back on his heels, looking at me with wide eyes, flashing blue, then normal, none of the lust that was there a second ago visible, either put on pause or diminished due to my command.

“Sorry. I’m trying, I just don’t know-”

“Get on your back.” He does, drops down beside me, laid out flat, looking a little silly, considering I’ve never seen him in a bed, he usually sleeps standing, just shuts down for the night, doesn’t need any comfort. I turn over, taking a turn sitting up over him, one knee slotted between his legs, watching him, liking how unsure he looks, something I’ve never seen from him, one thing that separates him from a human. “You still want this?” I feel like I’m coercing him, even if I’m not, his mind far more developed than mine, if anything. I let my fingers trail up his thigh, his jeans rough on my fingers, his faux muscles tensing under my light touch.

“Yes. I’ve never wanted anything, besides this. It’s… Exhilarating, you’re so pretty above me.” My mouth pops open, not at all expecting his compliment, or his hand on my hip, pressing me down over his clothed leg, putting pressure on my clit, the action so forward I nearly gasp.

“Didn’t know dirty talk was part of the programming…” I watch my fingers, pushing up on the bottom of his tee, ghosting my fingers up the skin of his stomach, his abs tight and hot under my touch, his body reacting so intensely, wound up from such a simple touch.

“It’s not. You asked me to be honest.” I did, months ago, when he lied, about nothing important, but still, I see no need for it, at least from him. I nod, wetting my lips and leaning down, pressing them lightly just below his belly button, watching his face, expression back to the hazy, needy one he was giving me a few minutes ago. “Can I..?” He uses his grip on my hip to grind me against his thigh, pushing it up a little further between my legs, offering delicious pressure, the roughness of fabric between us a little shocking.

“Yeah. Do what you want.” He’s sat up on one elbow, watching me, kissing down, skimming my lips along toward his hip, my hand gripped to the waist of his pants, slipping down, fingertips gliding over his erection making him flinch, the low whirring coming back, rumbling through his chest for a few seconds, his hand gently rocking me against him. “Feel good?” He clenches his jaw, looking worried, brows drawn low and together, his eyes barely open, cloudy with lust.

“Yes, too good, I’m overheating, you feel so good, you’re hands are-” He cuts himself off with a choked noise, eyes squeezed closed and his head tipped back, my hand palming him over his pants, offering a little relief in whatever form of pleasure he gets, a strong one, judging by his reaction.

“Sensitive, huh?” He drags my hips a little rougher, eliciting a small, groaned out noise from me, seeming pleased with himself when I open my eyes, his lips pulled up in a little smile, eyes cast down at his leg between my thighs.

“You can turn down sensitivity in the options menu, would you like me to-”

“No. Don’t change anything, stay just like this…” I press my hand more firmly to him, grinding my palm into him, his hips shifting below me making me smile, his breathing a little erratic. His leg is trembling, only the one between my legs, vibrating almost, making me let out a shaky breath. “Wha- Are you-?” He huffs out a laugh, nodding, slamming his head back into the pillow when I grind my hand into him, rough, gripping him through his pants and jerking it, squeezing him, his low groan heavenly.

“Update 12.6a- I have lots of perks. No human can-ah- match up.” He punctuates his words by turning up the vibration, my body slumping, back hunched a little from how harsh it is, before he turns it back down, a little more gentle, other than how roughly hes grinding me against his thigh. “Let me take these off.” He pulls on the waist of my pants, deft fingers moving to unbutton them, undoing the zipper, his free hand coming down to ease them over my hips, his upper body sitting up, and arm around my waist pulling me up enough to get them down my legs, my feet kicking until they tumble to the floor. He takes it in, me sitting in front of him, his hands sliding up my thighs, thumbs teasing under the sides of my panties before continuing up. “You’re gorgeous… I’m so lucky, having a master as good as you.” I clench my thighs around him, gazing up into his eyes, loving the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing on earth, at least the only one that matters. He’s pushing up on my shirt, looking into my eyes as he eases it up, pausing until I lift my arms, giving him permission, letting him pull it up and over my head, his eyes dipping down as he tosses it away, his hands sliding up my sides.

“Don’t you think you should take something off?” He doesn’t reply, just drags my leg up over his hip, straddling me over him, his lips skimming my collar bone, his breathing quick, hands sliding around to drag down my back, resting just above my ass, grinding me into him, his low groan hot on my skin. “C’mon, let me take this off.” I pull on his shirt, and he relents, pulling back and doing it for me, going back to what he was doing, kissing his way down from my collar bone, sucking gently on the skin above my bra, taking my low sigh as my assent, sucking the skin into his mouth and using an arm around my waist to hold me firmly against him, his hand still on my hip working me into his erection, which seems to be getting bigger, slotted nicer against me, giving me intense friction, his jeans rough against my panties.

“Feels so good… You’re so good… Your heart rate is higher than I’ve ever recorded, your body is responding so nicely. Love making you feel good.” He moans, for real, the sound nothing like the whirring hum of his groans, more human, wanton and needy, enjoying himself. “So pretty… Is there anything I can do better?” He’s a little breathless, turning us over and easing me down onto my back, looming over me, one hand rested beside my head, the other gripped to the outside of my thigh, keeping it hooked over his hip. “Is there?” I forgot to respond, too busy staring at him above me, looking so big, strong, his strength never something I thought about before, other than that he was stronger than me.

“Just… Enjoy yourself.” His muscles relax, his expression soft, none of the usual intensity behind his eyes, his elbow bending to bring his lips to mine, his body heating further, not used to all this excitement, his body humming with quiet energy. He’s grinding into me, hips sliding perfectly against me, the drag along my clit drawing a low moan out of me. “Le- Take these off.” I’m pulling at his pants, working the button until he takes over, clumsily shoving his pants down his legs, letting his head tuck down into my neck to free up his other hand, kicking his pants off and onto the floor.

“You take this off.” He sits up on his elbow, nosing and kissing at the side of my throat, pulling on my bra. I laugh, his pleased whirring tickling me, his hand running down my stomach.

“You do it, bossy.” He groans, pressing his hand back behind me, unclipping it much easier than I thought he would, not bothering to sit up to pull it down my arms, his mouth running down from my throat, mouth closing over a nipple, tongue lathing over it, his eyes peering up at me, his eyes low and pleased. He moans, vibrating against me, sucking where his lips are latched to my skin, his hand running up my thigh to press his thumb to my clit, surprising me, his lips pulling from my skin when I flinch, eyes on mine as he kisses his way to the opposite side, rubbing gently up and down over my panties.

“Feels good? I hope so… Let’s get these off.” He sits up, gripping onto the sides of my panties, staring at me as he pulls them down, tossing them off to the side and settling back down over me, nosing my head to the side to mouth at my throat, pressing his lips to my pulse, bringing his thumb back to my clit, rubbing soft circles. “Mmh, there we go, I’ll take good care of you, make you feel so good you’ll never need anyone else. You’re doing so good, looking so perfect and letting me please you…” He kisses his way back up, pressing his lips to mine, wet and open-mouthed, not messy, but needy, rushed, his thumb moving a little quicker against me, giving a little more pressure, my legs starting to shake. “There you go, you’re nearly there, oxytocin levels are skyrocketing, go ahead, want you to finish, let me see how pretty you are when you really feel it.” I moan, squirming against him, my orgasm coming, his face pulling a little further back to look at me, smiling, his expression a mix of lusty and pleased. “C’mon, give it to me, want you to feel good, finish from my fingers-” He doesn’t mind my nails digging into my arms, just works me through it, thumb light on my clit, his eyes on mine, watching me squirm and tilt my head back, the sensation becoming too much, his thumb pulling away the second it does.

“Shit, let me have a turn.” I shove at him, huffing a laugh when he feigns being pushed over, laid out on his back in his underwear, waiting on me to give him direction. I run my hand up his leg, gripping the band of his underwear and pulling down, getting them off and getting rid of them before kissing my way up his thigh, looking at him, the anticipation getting to him, his lips parted, brows pulled down and together.

“I don’t need this.” It would leave a bruise on my ego, if I didn’t know he’s just being honest, not that I care if he needs it, only if he wants it. “I don’t want to waste your time, I don’t require any type of foreplay.” I frown, kissing his base, peering at him over his dick, which is hanging heavy over his stomach.

“Can you get off like this?” I wrap my hand around him, smiling when he flinches, his dick twitching in my hand. I work it over him, keeping it slow, waiting on his reply, his eyes hazy with swirls of blue, systems crashing briefly before he’s back, letting out a light moan, carding a hand through my hair.

“No, I- The orgasm simulation can only progress if I’m inside, and you’re finishing too.” I hum, stroking a little rougher, tilting my head at him when he groans, his hips shifting, the pleasure a little too much, his expression almost fearful.

“It feels good, though?” He nods, head leaning back and eyes closed, letting me do what I want, enjoying himself, just like I asked. “Good.” I wait until he’s opened his eyes back up to lick from base to tip, closing my mouth around him and sinking down, his heady moan mouthwatering, really, drool coating his dick when I pull back up, watching him, his eyes hazy, his hand pulling at my hair when I suck him in again, bobbing up and down.

“Nnh- hey, do you want me to- I can-” He presses his knee up between my legs, rubbing it against me, making me moan around his dick. “There… Perfect…” He sounds pleased, whatever tension was plaguing him loosening now that he sees himself as being of use, rubbing his knee against my clit, offering some relief from the arousal he’s sparked inside with this new, needier self. “Do you wanna finish like this? I understand the usual progression would have me inside by now-”

“Shit, okay. Let’s get to it, then, if you don’t wanna take your time.” I sit up over him, looking at him, shuffling my way up until I’m hovering over his lap, his eyes on me as he sits up, his hands on my waist, his chest heaving.

“You’re ready?” I nod, waiting patiently as he reaches down, eyes hazy, aligning himself and pulling me slowly down onto him by my waist, the stretch less than painful, more than comfortable, not quite as snug as he could be. I’m a little above his face when he bottoms out, eyes swirling with blue for a few seconds before he blinks it away, shaking the heaviness out of his head, looking up at me and coming closer, holding me against him, keeping me seated on his dick as he kisses me, sloppier, messy and needy, my arms wrapped around his neck, his dick twitching and filling me a little fuller, the odd sensation making me pull back to give him a questioning look. “A perfect fit.” He doesn’t seem bothered, so I let the disturbed feeling settle, attempting to pull up off him, but big hands hold me still, keeping himself seated fully inside, melded to the walls, truly a perfect fit. “Let me stay like this, just for a minute… I like this, being impossibly close, feeling you in a way not many people get to…” He goes back to kissing, running his hands down to grip my hips, lifting me slowly up, letting me drop back down over him, his low groan breathed against my lips.

“Can I-”

“Let me do it.” I sigh, relenting, his hands lifting me up and sliding me back down, slow, keeping eye contact, pleased I’m giving him the choice, considering how easy it is to get him to do whatever I want. He keeps the slow pace, staring at my face, seeming pleased, his expression a mix of pleasure and calculativeness, trying to figure out the best way to finish me off, I suppose. “I’ll speed up soon, build-up is important, I don’t wanna deny you what you deserve, wanna be good…” He’s moving too slow, giving enough to fill me up, but not to do much else.

“I already came, Leon, build-up is irrelevant.” He nods, furrowing his brows and speeding up, keeping his grip firm, not letting me bounce, but bouncing me, keeping his eyes on mine, a low moan passing his lips when I clench around him, his pace quickening a little more, slaps of skin to skin sounding in my room adding a layer of intensity, his thumb pressing back to my clit prompting me to let my head lean back, a low, drawn out moan escaping him at the sight.

“You feel so nice inside, so warm, squeezed tight around me… God, this is the best I’ve ever felt, you feel good too, oxytocin is increasing-nnh- how many more times can you finish? Three? I’ll give you three more, wanna see you near tears, all from how good it feels.” He’s feverish, losing his usual stoicness, speaking rushed and breathless, his chest heaving, his hand working me over him, squeezing the fat of my ass, angling his hips further up, the drag along my insides unexpected, making me moan and drop my forehead to his shoulder, sweaty, searing hot on my skin. I’m shaking, letting him work me over him, letting out pleasured noises along with him, his face now tucked into the crook of my neck. “You’re getting worked up quick… I won’t even need the vibration, you’re almost ready, so tight, making such pretty sounds for me…” He holds me up, pausing, leaning back on one hand and dragging my upper body along with him, thrusting up into me, much quicker than he could’ve worked me over him, making me whine into his neck, spit slicking his skin, his hips slamming up into me, hands slipping up to my back to hold me in place so he can fuck into me, his voice getting higher, whinier. “There, now-ah, this is one out of three, so- so you still have two more after this, need you to finish, wet my dick some more, you’re shaking so nice, good thing I’m strong enough to hold you still…” I’ve never heard him curse before, I guess he’s doing his homework on dirty talk mid deed, his background processes doing him well, his words before now not all that enticing with his usual wording.

“Did you-

“Yes, wanted to be good, am I? Shit, tell me I’m good, wanna be good for you, make you feel so good you can’t think. You’re all I think about, you know that? You’re everything to me, I need to please you, make you cum all over my dick a few times before I’m finished.” I moan, shaking embarrassingly violently, nearly there, his dick filling me a little fuller, thrusts a little more needy, rutting up into me, making me whine into his shoulder, orgasm approaching, his nonstop thrusts working me up. “That’s it, gonna make you feel good, please you, have you soaking me, out of it from how good it feels, cumming on me over and fucking over.” My orgasm is shocking, the second I clamp down on him he presses me back down, holding me as I squirm and moan into his neck, grinding into me, stretching it out, pulling out of me once I still, guiding me to lay on my stomach, my body slumping down, ready for rest, until I feel hands pulling up on my hips, lifting me up to rest on my knees, chest and side of my face still pressed to the sheets.

“What are you..?” He presses inside, keeping it slow, aware I’m still coming down from my orgasm, his hands gently rocking me against him.

“This position is good for deep penetration, and I figured your legs were getting tired.” He speaks plainly, like he isn’t on his way to giving me my third orgasm in a couple minutes, his hips speeding up a little once he’s sure I can take it, his hands squeezing on my hips, rough and warm and big. “I’ll know when you’re satisfied, I’ll initiate the orgasm simulation when you’re ready.” He speaks matter of factly, and it would be funny, if he wasn’t fucking me into my mattress, low moans escaping me, my mind swimming, fuzzy and mushy, his hips noisy against me, his upper body folding over me, an arm around my waist pulling me into hars thrusts, his noises muffled into my shoulder blade, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach. “Feels good? Well, I know it-shit- It does. Just- If there’s another-ah- something you prefer…” I let out a noise I hope sounds negative, succumbing to the numb, hazy pleasure, taking what he gives, his noises going higher, near the end of the line, if he could cum without having to initiate it, that is. “So- pretty-! You feel so good, pulling me in, letting me give you all you can-hah- take…” I’m nearly there, my third orgasm coming, the pleasure turning nearly painful, good in an awful, striking way, my legs trembling harshly, his fingers sneaking down to rub at my clit, his moan loud against me when I clench, muscles going tight, so close, my orgasm almost refusing to come. “Come on, quit holding yourself back, you can do it, you’ve had plenty of time. You’ve got it, you’re right there, just squeeze this sweet pussy on me, let me feel it, yeah, there you go, that’s it, fucking whining for it, you sound so damn good…” He fucks me through it, again, keeps his hold around my waist when I try to escape, the sensations too much, my low groan finally getting him to pull out, turning me over and giving me a break by capturing my lips, kissing me feverishly, pressing his knees up under my hips and leaning over me, his dick brushing agoinst me drawing a low whine out of me.

“No more, Leon, no more… I’m finished…” He pulls back, looking me over, eyes flashing blue, his look pensive.

“No you’re not.” He pushes inside, my low groan ignored, his eyes on me, watching me. “You think you can’t- handle more, but you can, can take this one and another, I’ll keep you cumming until you really can’t take it.” He doesn’t thrust, lets me finish coming down, kissing me and keeping a finger against my pulse, waiting for it to slow down before moving, both of us moaning at the drag of him inside.

“Just this one… I don’t want another.” I couldn’t take it, honestly, I’m already entirely fucked out, nearly unresponsive as he rocks inside, grinding up on his way out, my overstimulated nerves making me moan, painful pleasure still somehow enjoyable, even if I am trying to convince him I’ve had enough.

“No, you can take it. I know what you need, know you better than you know yourself.” He does, in a way, knows about my inner workings and psychology and the like, but I know this is killing me, tears in my eyes, his body too big and immovable for me to stop him from taking care of me, forcing me to finish the amount of times he sees fit. “Gonna make sure you’re satisfied, show you how good I am, how good I can be for you…” I’m shaking already, way too worked up, orgasms fading into a hazy pleasure, everything a blanket of hot and muggy sweetness, his lips meeting mine making me moan, his hips working into me, another orgasm well on its way with his relentless actions. “This one then another, okay? You can take it.” I pull him back, looking into his eyes, trying to focus, tears blurring my vision, my eyes half closed from how good it feels, how intense and terrifyingly good this is.

“Leon, begin-shit- begin orgasm simulation-!” He groans, head tucking down to my neck, his hips working more purposefully, all of him hot against me, a thumb working at my clit making me jerk, squirming away, but he keeps me still, working us both up, his noisiness gaining volume, making me almost worried the neighbors will hear.

“That’s- I wasn’t done, sneaky-ah- girl. Fuck, feels so good, love making you feel good, being good for my-nnh- Master-!” I moan, usually adverse to the title, but my hazy brain loves it, too full of him to really mind, letting him send me toward my final orgasm, if only to chase his, though that’s not the case, considering I have to get off for him to. “Shit, please, can’t-ah- Take anymore-! I’m fuckin’ overloading, you feel too good, squeezing me so tight, hot and wet and-Nnh-! Please, give it to me, let me please you one more time, it hurts, need you to cum, trap me inside and-” He whines, burying his face in my neck and fucking me through it, twitching inside the second I squeeze around him, his whiny moan drawing a pleased noise out of me as he slows, pulling out after a few more seconds, not moving to force anymore out of me, just kissing lightly up the side of my neck, easing himself up onto a hand to look at me, eyes flashing blue.

“Are you scanning for your performance right now?” He smiles, almost coy, pressing his hand to my skin, taking my vitals, not even trying to be subtle.

“Course. I meant it when I said I live to please.”

[frodothefair]

Sometimes I become that middle-aged conservative mom (even though I don't have kids, so I suppose a metaphorical mom) who perennially rants about how nobody appreciates her.

I'm not a saint, after all. I crave a little recognition now and then.

An example, recently, has been my chronically online housemate who continues to struggle with her mental health. (Cut for sensitive material).

She's had yet another meltdown over something that happened on twitter (she's a trans person, so maybe that makes sense), and the only reason yet another hospitalization was averted was that her friend came over and took her to her house for the weekend.

So Mr. Nisilë, said friend, and I have been talking a lot about what we can do to help the housemate, and at one point Mr. Nisilë opined that he wishes he were easier to talk to, that we could have created a more supportive environment and engaged with her more, though coming from him, this is a ridiculous statement -- he can build rapport with anyone, which is why I was drawn to him in the first place.

So I went off on him. I ranted that we had done more than enough in letting her into our home in the first place, because she's not family; she's barely even a friend. That we pay her phone bill every month, and buy her groceries when our other house mate, who pays for the majority of her food, is unable to or is unavailable. That we're ok with her lack of hygiene, the state of the bathroom that's closest to her room, her tone-deaf singing and her random yelling. That we routinely drive her places, because she has no car and does not know how to drive, and neither gas nor time is free. That we're ok with her having hookups in her room with people she meets on apps, that we've seen her through two hospitalizations and two attempts on her life; we've hidden sharps, spoken to hospital staff, driven her to appointments and helped her find resources.

Believe you me, I know of what I speak when I say most people wouldn't do this. When I was ten or so, my mother, younger brother, and I had to flee an abusive situation. We were a respectable family in dire straits, a hardworking mother with two well-behaved children, and we had many friends and acquaintances, but everybody denied us a place to stay for completely BS reasons. The only person who didn't was my grandmother's employer. He was a man with an elderly sick mother, and my grandmother worked as their live-in housekeeper and caregiver. The three of us lived in a tiny bedroom in their home for three months -- the bedroom was meant to be my grandmother's, but she slept on the couch.

That is why I will never begrudge our housemate what I do for her. I will never see her as a burden. But to hear that I haven't done enough when I already have done more than 99.9% of the population would do was extremely upsetting. That's different from seeing her as a burden. I can deal with all of the above inconveniences, but I should still be allowed to be angry with her for not acknowledging my efforts, the fact that she f-cking won the lottery between me, Mr. Nisilë, and our other housemate.

A sarcastic voice inside might say, "well, what, do you want a medal now" for hearing people's problems all day and trying to solve them, for your financial contributions, for helping out another person in need?

Well, you know, maybe I do. I do a lot, and none of it is easy, because I have disabilities of my own. I may have some relative privilege, but also disadvantages in spades, from day one. So maybe a simple thank you would be nice -- explicit appreciation of how nice the house we keep is, the fact that we have enough resources to help out, that we don't care about a lot of things that would have been dealbreakers for other people.

But the thing is, the housemate is hardly capable of such a thing. She has too many troubles in her head to think of others, and that's part of her illness. So maybe it is not fair of me to expect that.

It's just that... They say a good deed is its own reward, but sometimes it does not feel like enough.

[oftenwantedafton]

Moody and Gray - William Afton x Female Reader

Finale

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content

Also available on AO3

William Afton’s restaurant is closed.

It has been for serveral days, ever since the accident in the workroom. The owner is still recovering, but stable, out of any immediate danger. The springlocks had partially worked, preventing any major internal damage. But he’s going to be scarred for life, the imprints the unforgiving steel has left behind reaching from the base of his neck to his ankles.

You visit as soon as you’re allowed to. You wonder if you’re going to be bumping into family members. The wife. The children. But he’s alone when you slip inside the room. His color is better than the last time you’d seen him, that deathly pallor absent. A beard is starting to grow out. His neglected hair tousled and greasy looking. There are bandages on the arms that rest over the sheet and blanket. On his neck. That’s all you can see aside from the hospital gown. He’s almost completely wrapped up like a mummy.

His eyes are closed, his breathing even. You gently touch his hand, one of the few parts of him that had avoided any injury. A flutter of lashes. His gaze struggles to focus on you. “Moody.” A croak of sound. You know he’s on a lot of medication with sedative side effects. You drag a chair close to the bed. Talk about random things. Watch him fall back to sleep. Try to sort his hair into some semblance of order. Kiss the scratchy new growth of facial hair. Finally leave. Going back home to do what you’ve been doing since the accident. Staring. Pacing aimlessly. Crying. Forcing yourself to go through the motions of activities of daily living. Hygiene. Meals. Everything tastes like ash. You want William out of the hospital. Back in one of those silly purple suit vests in that stupid awful restaurant of his. You miss it. You miss him. You need him back.

***

The next visit you return to find William more alert.

There are get well cards cluttering every available surface. The nightstand. Bedside table. Windowsill. Some handmade. Cute children’s drawings. A variety of flowers decorate the remaining vacant spaces, their perfumed scents clashing in the air. Spring offerings. Tulips. Daisies. Lillies. The weather is warming nicely. You don’t need the cozy winter coat he’s gifted you anymore. A lightweight jacket now suffices. This garment is well worn, the sleeves fraying. You toy with those loose threads now, standing beside his bed.

“How are you feeling, Will?” You can’t resist reaching to fuss with his hair. At least it’s been washed and he’s shaved. Your fingers find his cheek and remain there.

“Better now that you’re here.” A small smile. You bend to kiss his mouth. “How’s my moody girl?”

“I miss you.” Another kiss. “I’ve been really worried about you.”

“I’m okay, Moody. Thanks to you.” His hand covers yours, trapping it against his cheek.

The door opens and you jerk back. Only the housekeeper. You tuck yourself into the corner while she mops the floor and empties the trash, smiling and nodding before she leaves.

“You’ve got a lot of people who want you to hurry up and get better.” You gesture to the cards and flowers as you make your way back to the bedside.

“I’m going to try to get out of here as soon as possible, believe me.”

“You shouldn’t push yourself too much, though. You’ll end up doing more harm than good if you don’t give yourself enough time to recover.”

“Are you going to be gentle with me, Moody?”

“To start with, anyway. We’ll see how it goes.” You bend to kiss Afton again. Lingering this time. A deep inhale. His fingers weaving in your hair. Tongue parting your lips. Oh, you’ve missed this. You feel him shift to sit up. Fumbling for the bed controls. It reminds you of that night in his car. The obvious frustration. A wince of pain when he reaches too far sobering you. “Will, enough.” Pressing gently against him. He scowls and sighs. You kiss away the lines. “You need more rest.”

“I need more you,” he argues.

“Rest,” you insist. “Heal. Then come back to me.”

The older man nods. You drag the chair back over and sit down, babbling about inconsequential topics. Reluctant to part from his side. He puts some awful morning talk show on the wall mounted television and you both roast the commentary. Give scathing reviews of the lunch tray he’s brought. He asks you to bring your Uno deck the next time you visit.

“I don’t want to leave, but I’m going to head out for now. I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promise.

“Thank you for this. It was…not unpleasant.” A more confident smile than he’d exhibited earlier.

“Mmm-hmm.” Grinning back at him. Kissing him again. A contented sigh when you part. You think you’ll sleep well tonight. Things feel almost normal.

Everything was going to be okay.

***

William Afton returns to work faster than anyone had predicted. Refusing to let any more time pass with the pizzeria’s doors closed. You see the lights on in his office and ascend the steel staircase. Knock before entering and close and lock the door behind you. For no particular reason. You aren’t expecting anything to happen. Just force of habit.

He looks up from the paperwork on his desk. “Moody.”

“Welcome back, Gray. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Well, very behind. I have to get payroll done. And then I’ve got to do inventory and…”

“Will, it’s your first day back. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard.” You move behind his desk. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, it’s alright. I can manage. I did want your opinion on something, though.”

“What?”

“What do you think about me coming over after work tonight?”

“I think that is a very, very good idea.” You would have suggested it if he hadn’t. “Do you have any more good ideas?” Your fingers trail over his tie.

He grins. “A fair few. But, they’re going to have to wait until later. I need to get this done.”

“Okay. Later.” You pout but relent, settling for a quick kiss before leaving his office.

***

You’re back in his office that afternoon.

“Will, can you come downstairs? Someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who is it?”

“Just come with me.”

He follows you down the stairs, those long legs making short work of them. Close on your heels as you make your way though the employee restricted area and duck inside the kitchen.

A large group of the staff have gathered there. There’s a sheet cake on the counter. Purple lettering over white frosting welcoming the owner back. His eyes on your mouth when you take a bite of the slice you’ve cut. Your hand on his spine just above the buckle of his vest when no one’s paying attention to the guest of honor at the impromptu surprise party, the attendees dispersing as quickly as they had assembled. A last graze of knuckles when you part ways at the door, a promise for later.

“Did you organize that earlier?” Your boss has got you pressed against the outside of the building. A quick cigarette break just before close.

You nod. “People really missed you, Will. They love you. I love you,” you add softly. He’d been unconscious the last time you’d said it. Now there was nowhere to hide. The words just out there in the open. Underneath the sky. Interspersed in the cloud of smoke he exhales to the side. Cinders ground beneath his feet.

“I love you too, Moody.” His mouth on yours.

***

William Afton stands at the threshold of your apartment.

You twine your hands around his neck and pull his mouth down for a kiss before inviting him inside.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I want you.”

You’re only too willing to oblige. It’s been so long since you’d been intimate. He follows you into the bedroom. You reach for the light switch but he halts you, his fingers closing over your wrist.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for you to see me yet. The scars…I’m going to be honest with you, Moody. There are a lot of them and I wouldn’t blame you if…”

“They’re not going to change how I feel about you.”

A heavy sigh. He’s been worried about this, you think. You guide him in the direction of the bed. He sits on the edge to unlace his shoes before lying down beside you. You stroke his cheek, planting gentle kisses on his face.

“I almost lost you. I was so scared. I don’t even know how to exist without you in my life anymore.” You feel for his tie and he helps you loosen the knot. You unfasten his vest and then begin working on the buttons of his shirt. His breathing loud in the stillness. Nervously anticipating your reaction. Your fingers inside of that parted fabric, touching his chest. The sparse spread of hair. The indents where he’s been marked. Taut skin. Furrows. Lines. Circles. Strange patterns tattooing the familiar body. You begin kissing them. Making them your own. His breath escaping in a hiss. Your tongue mapping the places your lips have been. His fingers sinking into your hair.

“Need you, Will. Need you inside of me…” Your breath hot on his abdomen. Working on the fly of his pants. His hands impatiently moving under yours. Pushing you back. Underneath him now. Fingers dragging your panties down over one thigh, then the other. Off your body. Your legs spread open for him. His fingers dipping inside of your entrance.

“Oh, my God, Moody.” Your arousal spilling over him. Your mouth meeting his sloppy and wet. His cock replacing his fingers. You moan at the feel of him filling you, your head arching back, digging into the pillow. His mouth chases yours as he thrusts. “Being with you…you feel like home. My moody girl…Mine…” Rocking beneath him. Legs digging in. Every push releasing another gasp of pleasure. His fingers woven through yours, pushing them into the mattress. That sweet tight coil of pressure forming within you. Drawing tighter and tighter. Clenching around him. Pulling him deeper. “Moody…” The final incantation before the spell is completed. Unspooling, undone around him. The heat of his release filling you. Your hands still linked together.

***

Later. The lamp on the nightstand switched on. The rest of his clothing removed. Bare beside you. Tracing the injuries that had nearly stolen him from you. Pink marks on that alabaster skin. So many of them. You’ll learn the feel of all of them. With your fingers. Your lips. Your tongue. For now you’re content to have your head pillowed on his chest. Slotting your fingers through his. Admiring the way they look together.

“Moody.”

You hear the serious note in his voice. Your head lifts from the cradle of his pectoral muscle. You lean back until you’re reclining against the pillows. He rolls on his side. Your first glimpse of the scars on his back.

“I need to say something. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I just need to get this out.”

“Okay.” You’re a little uncertain. The gray eyes pierce you.

“I’ve been a terrible husband. And overall a pretty bad father, too. And I’m not blaming anyone but myself for those two facts. I got so caught up in work.” He shakes his head, pushing himself into a sitting position before continuing. “No. That’s too easy of an excuse.” Another deep inhale and exhale to steady nerves, to push through the rest of what he’s struggling to say. “The fact of the matter is, I didn’t want to be home. Things just didn’t feel right. Not the way I’d expected. For either of us. And we both just…stopped trying. Just accepted the failure. I believe in fulfilling obligations. I know I lacked on the emotional aspect, so I at least tried to ensure I was providing financially. Kind of a vicious cycle, really. Working too much, neglecting family, then working even more to make up for the neglect, and so on.

The thing is, Moody…I didn’t even realize how unhappy I was. Or care about how unhappy I was, I should say. Until I met you. And it made me want things. Makes me want things,” he amends. “You’ve made me realize what I could have. You’ve made me remember what it’s like to be happy, and I want more of that. In the future. With you. I want a future with you. I don’t want you to just be some mistress I keep on the side. I don’t want to hide you. I want to show you off. I want people to know that you’re mine. If I was a free man, would you have me, Moody? Would you be my wife?”

You’re stunned. Never in a million years would you have guessed that William Afton was going to tell you he wanted to build a life with you.

“I um…I was not expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know we can’t go on like this. It’s not fair to anyone involved.”

“Would you be asking if you hadn’t…”

“Almost died?” He supplies. You nod. “Yes. It might have taken me longer to come around to it, but yes. It certainly brought things into perspective in a hurry, though. Of course I’m going to still provide financially like I have been. Divide up assets. I don’t care about the house. She wants nothing to do with the restaurant. It’ll work itself out. What do you think, Moody?”

You lick your lips nervously. “I think there will be consequences. You saw how many people responded when you were in the hospital. You’re well known in the community. Respected. The restaurant has a reputation. You’re going to lose all of that if you openly leave her for me. Or even if you don't announce it but we get caught. It won’t be an uncontested divorce then. Even if she doesn’t actually want the restaurant she’ll legally be entitled to part of it. I know how much it means to you. I wouldn’t ask you to give that up. Not the respect, the reputation or any of that. You’d resent me if I cost you that.”

“I would never resent you.”

“You would. If you had to choose between having me or the restaurant…”

“I would choose you. Without question. Fuck the respect and reputation,” he growls.

“You’re going to throw everything away for some lousy waitress? Just give up everything you’ve worked so hard for? It doesn’t make sense, Will.”

“You are a pretty lousy waitress, I’ll grant you that.” He brushes your dropped bottom lip. “I’m teasing, Moody. But I’m dead serious about this. About you. I’m willing to take the risk. Just for the chance at a future with you. However bleak the odds are. When I was lying on the floor that day, all I could think of was how much I regretted not telling you how I felt. I needed you to know it. And I need to know if you want this, too.”

You swallow thickly. Pluck at the sheet beneath you. Chew your bottom lip. The last walls of reason and hesitation crumbling down. You do want it. “Yes. I do.”

“All in, Moody?”

“All in, Gray.”

***

The young woman enters the restaurant, pausing a moment to take it all in. The sights and sounds. People talking and laughing at rows of tables, inside booths. Arcade and pinball machines. Wooden balls careening down skee ball lanes. Plastic balls in the pit jostling together when a child dives in. There’s a hostess standing nearby, waiting patiently, a middle aged woman with a friendly grin on her features.

“Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria! Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Afton.”

“Which one? There are two.”

“Uh…I’m not sure. I have a job interview for a waitress position.”

“You’ll be wanting Mrs. Afton then. I’ll go tell her.”

The girl nods, waiting. The glass doors of the entrance open and close behind her. A family with several small children enters. They immediately focus on the nearby prize machines. Stickers, candy, plastic trinkets. Everything themed after the restaurant’s mascots.

You weave your way through the dining room, noticing the potential new hire hovering nervously near the main entrance. Poor kid. She looks scared to death. First job, maybe. You smile and greet her. “Come with me. I’ll give you a little tour, talk you through the job.”

You guide her around the restaurant, noticing William’s left his office. He’s leaning over the railing, forearms braced against it, hands folded.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s the owner. So, what do you think? Want to give it a shot?”

She nods. “Do you like working here?”

“It has its good and bad qualities, like anything else. Mainly good.” Your eyes meet Afton’s briefly before your attention returns to the adolescent beside you. “When can you start?”

“Um, I can do Saturday.”

“Great. We’ll be busy. You’ll get plenty of practice in. Don’t worry, I’ll be here. I’ll make sure your first day isn’t too terrible.” You smile reassuringly. “Let’s go get your official shirt. Black pants are the other requirement.”

You lead the teenager back to the entrance clutching her uniform shirt. “Try to be on time. The boss is kind of a stickler for that,” you add. She nods, still a little wide eyed, then skitters through the door. Yeah, you were definitely going to keep that one under your wing. You nod to the hostess. Such a relief to find someone who seemed like they wanted to stay. College girl was long gone. You return to the dining room, ascending the steel staircase.

“Hello, Mr. Afton.” You join him at the railing, resting your hands on the metal surface.

“Hello, Mrs. Afton.” He straightens. “Who was that? New employee?”

“Yup. Waitress. High school kid. She’s nervous, but I’m gonna keep an eye on her. Make sure no one gives her any shit.”

“Good.” His hand slides over to cover yours. “Want to go take a break, Moody? Maybe get a bit of fresh air?”

“Hmmm,” you hum thoughtfully. “Do I want to go on break with you…”

His lips by your ear. “Unless you want to spend it in my office instead. A new box of shirts came in. Maybe I can help you find one in your size…”

“Will!” You hiss, mock scandalized, but you have to admit your body is definitely interested. You step back from the railing. The animatronics are beginning another performance below. Lots of noise. A good time for it. You see William smirk. Thinking the same thing, no doubt.

You follow your husband to his office.

[not-a-space-alien]

Tinytopia Chapter 5: Endless Rebirth (Part 1)

Story Masterpost

On AO3

Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight!

In this chapter: Marcy starts to refocus her efforts on life at home, just in time to receive yet another visitor.

Warning: This chapter features a dog mauling that goes slightly above the intensity usual for this story.

***

Out in the park, a young borrower wobbled through the grass.  Dirt stuck to his fur and under his fingernails, and he wandered around lost until a tree nearby turned and bent over to scrutinize him through the knots in its trunk.

“Oh, hello?” the borrower said, backing up nervously.

You seem lost, whispered a voice like wind creaking through branches.  What are you doing here?

“I don't really know,” the borrower said.  “Sorry.  I'm all alone, though.  Hey, what are you?  You're the only talking tree here, I think.”

The tree creaked and swayed for a moment. Then: I am a dryad, and I think I know where you should go.

***

Marcy’s first act as a full-time housekeeper was to take stock of everyone who was already in the house.  They’d been managing mostly fine without her, but Moon was right.  There were more little creatures running around, and if this was going to be Marcy’s main focus, she could spend her time thinking of ways to make life here better for them.

Thistle had always known Marcy was smart, but he was awed to see her in action.  She was a bundle of nerves, of course–she always was–but now that her attention was fully on things here at home, it became obvious just how passionate she was and how hard and quickly she worked.  It seemed like her failed PhD program was forgotten almost instantly.

The first step was to help Thistle, who also seemed similarly overwhelmed by everyone new showing up, make his guest book.  It was a large book for Thistle’s standards, but small for Marcy–the size that a human could write in it, albeit with some difficulty, and allow plenty of room for denizens with tinier hands to write without being overwhelmed.  It was a good compromise–and Marcy got something from the craft store that would be a bit sturdier than a notebook, a bound book with blank pages and a cover ready for decorating.  Thistle put off ramping up his sellable art projects for just a bit to decorate it.  It didn’t take too long.

Then he went around and made an entry for everyone.  Marcy at the same time made a note of their wants, needs, and habits, in case she could spot anything that could be coordinated or made better for everyone.

Thistle insisted Marcy be on the first page.  Then the other humans: Teddy and Colin.  They were here first, so might as well go in chronological order.

Teddy and Colin were the owners of the house, so it was important to make sure they were okay with everything going on.  Well, Colin was the owner of the house, but he mostly cared about using the house to make Teddy happy.  Both of them had been pretty gracious about everything, but Marcy would still need to ask permission for major changes.  They worked alternating schedules, sometimes on the weekends and sometimes off on weekdays.

Mochi was put in the basement when none of the humans were home–that was just for safety.  Marcy’s continual presence there would be good for her, too–the cat would have to spend less time locked away meowing mournfully to be let out, since Marcy could make sure she didn’t pose a threat to any of the tiny creatures.

Then there was Thistle, of course.  He was the star of the show, in Marcy’s opinion.  He was usually awake at 9 or 10AM until about midnight.  He slept either in Marcy’s hand or, more recently, he’d taken to sleeping with Moon on the desk or nightstand in Marcy’s room.  He alternated, wanting to sleep with them both but knowing Moon wasn’t comfortable sleeping on top of Marcy yet.  He spent most of his days in the living room: his art supplies were on the floor, his little painted castle with his clothes and knickknacks was there, and he could hop up on the couch to watch TV when he wanted to.  He made paintings and drawings and clay figurines and sold them all online.  He had his silkworms there, too, for petting and taking their silk and the occasional snack.  He would practice flying when he had someone to help him–which would be a lot more often now that Marcy would be home basically full-time.

Jewel, of course, spent all his time in the fish tank.  He’s been warming up to socializing more, albeit slowly–very slowly.  He was free to keep his own schedule, although he was mostly limited to sleeping at night when no one was in the living room with him to keep him awake.  Sometimes Colin would talk him into letting himself be scooped up and taken out for various social activities–Colin was really the only one he trusted to do that, although he was starting to open up to Marcy and Teddy a bit more, too.

Violet and Petunia had been given permission from the humans to live in the walls and very rarely came out–they were by the far the most introverted members of the household.  When Thistle wanted to get ahold of them, he usually walked over to this little crevice in the dining room baseboard, stuck his head in, and yelled for them.  If he did that for long enough, it would summon Violet eventually.  He had managed to get them to come to a few social gatherings, but never for very long at a time.  Violet always acted like she had places to be and important things to be doing, although maybe that was just because she was jittery, in more or less constant motion.  Petunia always loved coming out, although even she would start to obviously lose her stamina for socializing after two or three hours and start to nod off.

Severa spent most of her time occupied with whatever activity Thistle was doing, seeing him as her main source of nourishment now that she no longer hunted and relied on their bond to sustain herself.  She didn’t seem to have any strong preferences about socializing or activities, just sort of letting herself be subjected to whatever everyone else around her wanted to do.  The only exception was when Petunia came out, because she prioritized fawning over the baby above everything else.  She spent most of her time in the wooden house Thistle had helped her put together and decorate, which was on the living room floor beside his own.  Every time anyone gave her a gift she did not know how to properly use, she simply put it in there, so that she had a sort of miniature treasure hoard that she slept in like a dragon.  But she’d also stuffed the wooden house full of fluff and blankets to make it a proper nest.  Thistle could tell it was because she was half-hoping it would host an egg or a child someday, but for now it made it very cozy for Thistle to sit in with her when he felt like it.  He was getting more comfortable around her–he wasn’t scared to sit in her coils anymore, having complete confidence she wouldn’t attack him.

Moon kind of wandered around.  They were sure to always keep a window cracked open for him, so he could visit without feeling trapped in the house.  He vanished into the night outside sometimes, but he spent a lot of time bathing in the moonlight on a windowsill or roof.  Thistle kept asking him not to go out and seduce anyone else and Moon assured him he wouldn’t, just that he was often seized by wanderlust that he needed to get out of his system.  He complained endlessly about the light during the day, but he’d shifted to more of a half-diurnal, half-nocturnal schedule to spend more time with Thistle.  He made himself at home wherever he happened to be–and spent more time than not hanging around Thistle–but apparently felt no need for a house or nest to call his own.  He had his magical shrinking wardrobe that seemed to carry every possession he thought worth keeping.

And now Marigold and Córva were here.  Marigold was healthy enough that it was probably okay to leave him alone, but Thistle was still loath to leave him for any long amount of time.  He spent most of his time in the living room next to Thistle’s house, passing his time doing the exercises the vets recommended for him, writing in Pixish or drawing, watching TV, or reading on Thistle’s phone–Thistle had convinced him to start learning English, although he didn’t seem to be very excited for it.  They’d set up a baby gate to keep Mochi out of the room–Marigold was clearly afraid of her, although she’d shown no major signs of aggression around him.  Córva hung around outside, mostly in and around the lovely little birdhouse Colin had built for her, and she would swoop down to meet Marigold whenever Thistle wheeled him outside.  Teddy brought birdseed out for her, which she always ate happily, though she didn’t seem dependent on it, thankfully, since she was still a wild bird and could come and go as she pleased. 

That just left Trilloras, the social-phobic dryad.  Planted out in the yard.  Thistle had stood by her sapling and begged and pleaded for her to come out over and over again, but nobody ever got any response from her.  Marcy was starting to think maybe she’d imagined the whole thing, but Thistle and Moon always confirmed they’d seen Trilloras, too.

He really wanted her to sign the guest book, though.

“Come on,” he whined, lying out in the grass.  “Just for five minutes.  I won’t tell anyone!”

No response.

“You’re living in our yard, you know!”

No response.

Thistle groaned and rolled over.  Marcy retrieved the guest book from where it lay in the grass beside him.  “We could just try again tomorrow, hm?”

Thistle kicked his feet.  “Why won’t she just come out, though?  Ugh!”

Marcy scooped him up.  “Come on, if she doesn’t want to sign it, she won’t sign it.  It’s not the end of the world.”

Thistle crossed his arms and let himself be ferried back towards the porch.

Marcy smiled at him.

“What?”

“I just think you’re cute.”

Thistle blushed to the tips of his ears.  “What am I doing that’s cute?”

“You have so many friends back in the house, but you’re stuck on making one more out here.”

Thistle crossed his arms.  “It’s just not right that she’s in our yard and won’t talk to me.  Right?”

“Just be patient.”

Marcy stopped.  There was a borrower on the steps.  Looking up at Marcy with ears twitching and tail lashing.  He was young, fresh, and bright-eyed.

“Oh, hello!” Marcy said, keeping her voice low.  He must be new. She'd never seen him. That was a different one, right? “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.  Do you know Violet and Petunia?”

The borrower rubbed his hands nervously.

Thistle leaned over Marcy’s hand, peering at the unknown borrower curiously.  “Do you speak English?”

His mouth struggled to form words, then he nodded.  “Yes,” he said bashfully.  “I’m just shy.  Sor-sorry.”

“It’s okay.”  Marcy knelt down, letting Thistle off into the soft grass.  “It’s great to meet you.  What’s your name?  I’m Marcy, and this is Thistle.”

The borrower clambered down the stairs, hoisting himself with his strong arms.  “My name’s Jax.”

“It’s great to meet you.  Do you need something?”  Obviously it would be fine if he didn’t–Marcy would be excited about any magical creature staying here for any reason at all–but since borrowers seemed so shy, it felt… odd to see one approach so openly and directly, and with no apparent goal, as a complete stranger.

Jax stopped by Marcy’s shoe.  Thistle gave little jumps of excitement but said nothing.

“A dryad told me this is a place where lots of different magical creatures live in peace,” Jax said.  “Even predators.  Is that true?”

“Yes!” Thistle shouted, excited.  “Yes, it’s so true!  You can come live here, too!”

Marcy turned back towards Trilloras’s tree.  “A dryad told you that?”

Jax followed her gaze.  “A dryad far away.  Is that a dryad too?”  His tail swished excitedly.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to come out and talk,” Thistle said sourly.  “You talked to a different dryad?’

Jax nodded.  “And she said everyone lives in peace here, even predators! I wanted to see it for myself.  A bunch of different kinds of creatures living together! Even predators!”

How would a second dryad have known about their house, and why would it have told this random borrower to come here? It was... strange. Confusion overtook Marcy's excitement briefly.

“You’re welcome to see it!” Thistle cheered.  He didn't seem to care about the details much at all, too excited about the paradise they were building. “Yes, yes!  Come on inside!”

“Er, we just met Jax,” Marcy interjected, noting Jax’s demeanor.  “I don’t know if he’d be comfortable coming inside just yet.” And this whole thing felt...fishy.

Jax nervously swished his tail.

“We could bring someone out here to meet you,” Marcy said.  She had all day, after all.  She could bring Severa and Moon and Jewel and Violet out one at a time and just watch them all talk.  The thought made her giddy.  This was so much better than a PhD program.  “Did you want to meet… A predator?”  He’d sounded so excited about it.

Jax nodded.  “That sounds lovely!”

“Okay.  Wait right there.  Thistle, wanna come so you can translate?”  There was still a bit of a language barrier between Marcy and Severa, although they’d both been working to close it.  But best not to have any misunderstandings.

Thistle nodded, and Marcy picked him up.  “Okay.  Wait right there, Jax.  We’ll be right back.”

Marcy went inside and found Severa upstairs, looking out the second-story window.  “Who were you talking to?” she asked.

“There’s a new friend!” Thistle said.  “Another borrower!  Do you want to meet him?”

Severa flicked her tongue out.  “Yes, as long as he also wants to meet me.”

“He does!” Marcy said.  “He…”

She trailed off, because something caught her eye out the window behind Severa.  Oh no.  Oh, no.  Buster, the neighbor’s dog, was trotting right towards their front yard.

“Shit!”  Marcy dashed away immediately, leaving Thistle and Severa in the dust.  She leapt down the stairs as fast as humanly possible, nearly falling if not for the bannister.  She threw the front door open just as Buster started to bark.

Jax was standing in front of the dryad sapling, examining it while biting his finger.  His ears swiveled as he heard the dog rapidly approaching.

Apparently Jax did not possess very good survival instincts, because he turned to face the dog barreling towards him with its mouth open and teeth exposed–and did nothing.

“Shit!” Marcy shouted, sprinting over.  “Jax, run!”

It was too late.  Buster reached the borrower and snapped his jaws around him.  The tiny, furry body disappeared with a pained, high-pitch squeak.

“Buster!” Marcy shouted.  “Drop it!  Fuck!  Drop it!”

She tried to reach out to grab his collar, but he dashed away from her like they were playing a fun game.  “Drop it!” Marcy screamed. The image of Jax’s body disappearing into that maw was burned into her brain.

After an agonizing minute of chasing him in circles as his tail wagged, Marcy finally managed to catch his collar.  “Drop it!  Drop it!”  Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision, but she refused to let go or give up.  She forced Buster’s head towards the ground.

Buster finally opened his mouth and let the drool-covered bundle drop into the grass.

“Shit!” Marcy said, seizing Jax immediately.  His body ragdolled in her hand, and oh God, there was so much blood.

She clutched him to her chest and went back inside, slamming the door.

***

They made an emergency call to Lalitha and Jaden, but it was obvious Jax was dead on arrival.  Thistle tearfully pressed his ear to Jax’s chest to listen for a heartbeat.  Severa checked his pulse and smelled him over for signs of life.  Moon tried what healing magic he had, but the borrower’s body was so ravaged by the dog’s enormous teeth that he’d probably died more or less instantly.

Colin blew his lid when he found out what’d happened.  He stormed to the neighbor’s house immediately, and the volume of his shouting at her could be heard even all the way from Marcy’s bedroom.  He couldn’t very well say that Buster had murdered someone, though–so he settled for saying Buster had killed a small animal Marcy had been fond of, which wasn’t exactly a lie, and that this was the last straw and if he saw Buster loose on the lawn again, he was going to call animal control.

The neighbor promised to keep a closer eye on the dog, then got away from him as quickly as possible.  Colin was still fuming when he got back to the house.

He decided it was finally time to put up a fence. Their property was big enough that they couldn't really fence in the whole thing, but Colin had enough handyman know-how to put up a fence at least around the immediate vicinity of the house. Chainlink was the perfect option, since it'd allow small creatures to slip through but block bigger ones.  The humans all had to pool together their money to get the funds for it, but they all agreed it needed to be an immediate priority.  Marcy still walked around looking shellshocked, and she constantly stayed in the same room as Thistle, hovering protectively.

Not even Violet had any success getting ahold of Jax’s family or friends, so they buried his body in the backyard and had a little funeral themselves.  Marcy set up a little grave with a headstone, and they all stood around looking very solemn.

“A damn shame,” Teddy said.  “No little critter deserves that.”

“Yeah…” Thistle said.  He was crying mightily.

“Does anyone want to say anything else?” Marcy said.

“Um,” said a small, unknown voice.  “I could.  Who are we mourning?”

All eyes fell on the new voice–which was–

It was Jax.  Just standing there at his own funeral.  He looked just as fresh and bright-eyed as a few hours ago before he’d been mauled to death.  Not even a tear in his clothes, or a hair out of place.

Marcy blinked at him.  “Uhhh-”  She looked from the grave to the new Jax, as though trying to figure out how he might have crawled out of the little shoebox coffin they’d made him.  But no.  He’d clearly come from a different direction, approaching while they were all looking at the grave.

“You're dead,” Severa said bluntly.

Jax blushed.  “Um, no, I'm just fine.  See?”  He did a handstand, tail wiggling in the air.

“Hey, uh, Jax…” Thistle said.  “You're not… actually a borrower, are you?”

Jax inverted himself upright sheepishly.

***

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