#not a sensible use of excel mind you

[elderflowerprince]

putting what i learnt in first semester programming class to "good" "use" by making some little buttons to count stats in my spreadsheet of ocs. clearly the most practical class i've ever taken

(still can't believe the final exam was on paper)

[blorbologist]

Y'know, I think I figured out why the Hells still feel like a new low-level party to me, even though they're level 13 and almost 100 episodes in.

I don't quite think it's the lack of conversations, or the fact half the party's plot hooks are big ties to past campaigns - though that definitely plays a part.

... Bell's Hells still primarily rely on quest givers.

Most of their goals are given to them and do not feel organic to the party, and constantly remind us that the Hells are pretty much never the most powerful people in the room. Which is usually something you see with a low-level party.

NPCs offering jobs is not a bad thing; it's a very common plot hook. Matt has been extremely skilled with using NPC quest givers in those two campaigns. Not only do they provide an obvious plot thread, but they can put the party in the path of others (say, the Nein running into the Iron Shepherds while doing a job for the Gentleman and everything that came of that). And the Hells had a solid start with it too - Eshteross was an excellent quest giver!

The problem is that Bell's Hells have never really not had a quest giver.

Maybe it's a byproduct of the more plot-heavy structure of this campaign? But while prior parties have felt like they decided on their course of action and what they prioritized, Bell's Hells feels less like level 13 (13! Level 13!) experienced adventurers and more like an MMO group clicking on the exclamation point over an NPC's head. Where does the plot demand we go next? Who do we report back to?

They're level 13.

At level 13, Vox Machina had just defeated a necromantic city-state to clear their name and Percy's conscience. And, you know, the Conclave just destroyed Emon. No one was explicitly telling the group to gather Vestiges and save the world (though Matt guided them there), and they were usually among the most powerful people in the room. They chose which Vestiges to prioritize, which dragons to tackle when, even if the over-all plot was pretty clear.

At level 13, the Mighty Nein were celebrating Traveler Con (another PC goal, I'll note) after brokering peace between two nations, accidentally becoming pirates and heroes of the Dynasty. The Nein regularly chose what to do based on personal goals, not grand ones. Though definitely smaller fish than Vox Machina at this level, they were very independent and gaining solid political clout.

While we're at it: level 13 is one level lower than the Ring of Brass, who had a huge amount of sway over Avalir. They ended the world, and also saved it, while in the grand scheme of things being only a smidge more powerful than Bell's Hells are now.

Can you really see the Hells wielding that amount of influence, when they're constantly being told what to do next?

The god-eater might be unleashed, so Bell's Hells have no time to do anything but what is asked of them. No time for therapy unless stolen from Feywild time, no travel on foot and late-night watches. They haven't even had time to grieve FCG. Percy was grieved in the middle of the Conclave arc. Molly was grieved when half the party was still in irons.

Matt is in the very unfortunate spot of not being able to give the Hells the same agency as the other two parties. Not only because of the world-ending plot introduced so early on; they are surrounded by characters they know (and the cast knows) are stronger and wiser than them - the familiarity of the past PCs and NPCs is to their disadvantage.

Why would the party reasonably ignore Keyleth's task that will help save the world and go off on a romp? Why would the cast when they know well Keyleth has to be sensible and with the best intentions in mind? The stakes are just too high.

It means that the Hells still feel like they're running errands instead of pursuing their own destiny. Their accomplishments are diminished as just being parts of a to-do list, and any stakes feel padded by several level 20 PCs/NPCs standing 5 steps away ready to catch them.

This isn't Bell's Hell's fault, nor is it Matt's. It could be amended, I think, if the Hells are really left to their own devices for a long period of time without support and shortcuts (like during the party split)... which would be really tricky to pull off at this point in the campaign.

They're level 13. They're big fish, but they're stuck in a pond full of friendly sharks, so they don't feel big at all.

[fynsh]

Everyone has a special talent they are admired for but Fox just keeps pretending

Fox may not have Cody's brilliant tactical mind, Wolffe's great resilience, Bly's incredible adaptability or Pond's patient emotional genius, but all CCs - to a certain extent - shared qualities that enabled them to inspire brothers to follow them into any battle. They didn't brag about it but over the course of the war the GAR clearly noticed their commanders and ranking officers excelling in difficult missions, paving new ways by taking personal risks and eventually creating methods better than reg standards.

Fox batchers were aware nobody could outmatch him in his directional subtlety. Other would have called him manipulative but that didn't sit right with them. He used his talent to support his brothers, not to harm them. The batch knew their youngest brother was always able to catch what went unnoticed by others but they didn't always realize he could also hide anything in plain sight.

His ability to pretend was a gift morphing into a curse. Fox pretended to punish troopers ruthlessly while actually saving them from greater harm that could not be undone. It slowly turned into the GAR believing the Guard's Marshall Commander was a heartless und cruel Fierfek. Fox welcomed this portrayal to keep as many brothers as far away from the Guard's grounds as possible. His fellow Guard commanders started feeding into the narrative by joining forces with him and stripping their men of their individual armor paints. Better to keep everyone away from 000 and endure the hostility of the ones you were designated to protect on your own.

During the first year of the war his brothers tried to counteract the rumors spreading about Fox and his Guard. They knew him as a sensible and protective brother so there had to be reasoning to his actions. Fox didn't bother to elaborate. The constant deployments kept the batch apart and messages from the front lines became few and far in between.

Fox hadn't been in contact with the GAR outside of official business for months now. Until news of his oldest brother being shot by a cadet pinged on his comm. The whole incident was kept off the datapads so he wasn't able to read up any additional info. Fox felt an icicle lodge into his trachea. He rushed to the healing wards as he was ordered to accompany General Windu safely back and forth between checking on his units and talking to the Chancellor.

General Windu was whispering to a healer from the Jedi temple who he seemed to have been put in charge of taking care of his heavily injured commander. Standing in front of the bacta tank was a cadet in non standard clothing, his shoulders set straight under the thick robes and his face turned up towards the lifeless face distorted by the gelatinous healing substance. Reflected in the thick glass Fox noticed a familiar blank stare and lips set into a thin line. The cadet was clearly pretending to not be affected by looking into the face of a practically dead brother. What was he doing here, alone and away from his brigade?

General Windu turned towards the Guard and signed for them to wait for further instructions. They saluted in perfect synch and kept their position. Behind his helmet Fox eyes drifted to the figure suspended in bacta. His heart rate was dangerously slow, his usual exhaustion drowned by the anguish crawling up his spine trying to claw its way out through his clenched teeth and part his lips. When was the last time he had seen his brother face to face?

The hole inside his chest kept growing and churning and he barely kept it beneath the surface when running on no sleep and food, only caf. However, there was no use in dwelling on past decisions and paths diverging. He didn't regret keeping his batch mates away. Fox knew with them around the smallest outwardly shown signs could endanger their carefully crafted image, his brothers weren't dumb and maybe the Jedi were actually as perceptive as he was led to believe by reports and talks inside of the GAR.

So Fox pretended to be indifferent. He was okay. As the Head of the Jedi Order eventually started moving towards them and addressed Fox personally with unprompted reassurance of his brother being in the most capable hands, the Marshall Commander only thanked him formally and on behalf of the clones for going beyond standard measures to save Republic property. Windu seemed taken aback before swiftly moving out of the healing wards without sparing another look at the Guard falling in step behind him. Fox didn't look back at the two brothers staying behind. He still felt the heavy stare at the back of his bucket. Everything was fine.

Ponds definitely would have picked up on the atypical stiffness in Fox' gait, but his oldest brother might not call him out on his bluffs ever again.

I'm not sure about this drabble as it took a different direction than I intended. It also doesn't properly convey the desperation of reaching your goal of keeping as many people as possible safe from harm at the expanse of your own safety net

[absolutebl]

Top 10 Best BLs on Gagaoolala

My Beautiful Man AKA Utsukushii Kare

Japan 2021

One of the most Japanese BLs to release in the last decade, as weird and as messed up as any 2000s yaoi: emo af and hella warped, entirely true to itself with no attempt made to modify its POV for modern sensibilities or current BL fandom. It used seriously old school problematic and kinky tropes, like whipping boy, for a truly uncompromising piece that also manages to hit up themes of communication, consent, and self acceptance. It’s a wonderful BL but uniquely dirty and harsh, in the best possible way - Japanese cinema, uncompromising.

I lost my ever loving mind over the ending. This show won the Grand Prix “My Best TV Award” at the 16th Galaxy Awards.

Minato's Laundromat AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry

Japan 2022

A classic age gap romance where a high school student pursues the man of his dreams (who runs a laundromat). This BL is so steeped in yaoi nostalgia, not to mention a classic romance arc, that it will overload some, but those of us who love this genre for its DNA will adore it. It made me very happy because it did everything I want a BL to do - there’s not much more I could ask of a show than this. It’s the closest Japan has come to perfect live action yaoi since Seven Days (and I never make that comparison lightly).

Squee watch-along here.

My Ride

Thai 2022

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest, and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple.

Takara & Amagi AKA Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

Japan 2022 I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this BL. Reserved cool kid who must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning. Was there plot? Not really. Was it emotionally tense and paced well enough for me not to notice? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the hell out of it? Oh yes.

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Taiwan 2023

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan 2023

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan 2023

A lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the manga (which is very dear to my heart). And they did, paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

Step By Step

Thai 2023

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This office romance between a stern boss and sweet subordinate felt more authentic to cubical work than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. That authenticity added tension to the narrative and its characters development (how novel). I also really enjoyed the charming side characters and the brothers' relationship to each other (although I could have done without that brother's side BL).

Long Time No See

Korea (Strongberry) 2017

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war who fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blog (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the hidden gems of the BL genre.

About Youth

Taiwan 2022

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit.

Some of these shows ALSO appeared on Viki or iQIYI, but these BLs will appear only once on these round up posts (here for Gaga), not on the other platforms top 10.

(source)

This list updated Spring 2024, not responsible for cool stuff that aired on Gaga (or was taken off the platform) after that date.

This is part of a series more here:

[gatheredfates]

POSES. It happened! ✨

I made a smaller post this morning, but I am super pleased to announce that Tumblr's moderation has approved SEAFLOOR as a Community! We're live, baeby!

If you don't know what a Community is, you can check out Tumblr's post about it here.

If you are interested in joining, I will copy/paste the information contained on the Community's pinned post in the read more below, as you won't see it otherwise (outside of joining). I'd like to kindly request that if you are already a member of the Community to not like this post (it just saves me doubling up) but please reblog it to spread the word!

Welcome to SEAFLOOR! This a Community run by myself, Sea (@gatheredfates), as an offshoot of the identically named Discord server aimed to contain both my personal projects and promote member-created content. If you would still like to keep up to date with my projects, interact with members of my community, and generally enjoy xiv content without the pressure of a Discord, this is the place!

This server has mandatory tags that MUST be used for spoilers. A general rule of thumb is the most recent patch/live letter is considered spoiler content and must be marked accordingly; as well as major spoilers for the most recent expansion. If it doubt, it always pays to tag. Please mind the following:

#dawntrail spoilers

#7.0. spoilers (will likely come into effect for 7.1 to differentiate from general Dawntrail spoilers, but you can tag for both!)

#liveletter spoilers

Much like my Discord, there are some house rules I want to put in place first for first-time users. Please familiarise yourself with the below. This post is pinned; you can't claim you haven't seen it. A lot of these are near-identical to the server rules, but I'll be no-less forceful in implementation if they are not adhered to.

If I'm being entirely honest, moderation past Community maintenance is something I do not want to engage with, so I will be intervening only when it is entirely necessary and will be harsh in my implementation. Therefore, if you don't think you can conduct yourself in a healthy, adult manner, do not join. Some of these rules may seem 'harsh' but are the product of me making clear boundaries in what I will expect, tolerate and foster. I will not hesitate to curate where I feel it is necessary.

I believe in the age-old phrase "Be excellent to each other," and that underpins every rule featured below. If in doubt, refer back to this mantra.

This Community is strictly 21+ only. This is to keep in line with my personal boundaries regarding minors. It's nothing personal, I just don't have time to moderate for a younger audience.

Common-sense rules apply. Do not break Tumblr's ToS, spoiler/content warm where appropriate and sensible, and don't be rude/harass people in the comments. Just because a rule isn't explicitly stated doesn't mean you have full reign to do the thing.

Intolerance (namely racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.) will not be tolerated. If you don't like it, the back button is free.

Due to this being a predominately XIV focused Community, dark themes will present due to subject manner explored in the game. I will not enforce mandatory tags/censors outside of patch/expansion spoilers; I just ask that people use their common sense and consider peoples' safety and mental wellbeing when posting work(s). If you do not warn appropriately or mock/ignore requests for things to be censored/warned, you will be removed.

As Communities are in their infancy, rules may be amended/adjusted to better fit this space's purpose as time goes on. While I will attempt to make these changes obvious, please check back on occasion just in case. "I didn't know," is not a valid excuse.

HOKAY, now that the serious of the rules are out of the way, you might be wondering to yourself, "Sea, what can be posted?" I'm glad you asked! ✨ First and foremost, as I do not encourage secular spaces, please make sure all content has originated from a public tumblr blog. I want to encourage people to reach out, interact and follow other people, not just stick to this space! Beyond that, I accept:

Screenshots (gpose), writing, art, think pieces and other xiv content created by members. You can tag these with #gpose, #writing, #art, etc.

Resource gathering similar to what is featured in the Discord server including resources, prompts, commissions, etc. You can tag these with #resources, #prompts, #WoLQoTD, #commissions, #other, etc. These do not have to be created by members in the community.

Event, character profiles, looking for content/rp/free companies and more! You can tag these with #events, #character profile, #lfc, #lfr, #free company, etc. These do not have to be created by members in the community.

Links to lodestone posts/dev commentary and other official posts provided they are tagged correctly. You can tag these with #lodestone.

Anything you've created in response to my projects! You can tag these as #sea's character questions OR whatever the event is at the time (for example, Down to Dawntrail posts can be tagged as #(count)down to dawntrail)! I will try to reblog anything that I am tagged in if the owner doesn't reblog it here.

Anything xiv related that isn't covered here but you think is in line with the spirit of this community and what I'm trying to foster. Please DM me if you're unsure.

[chairofchaos]

You Deserve Better, and Other Points for Reflection

Hey friends, listen up. Real talk for a second, because nobody deserves this. And, in case anybody cares, I want you to know I come with 12 years of learning on this exact debate we have been having, because I had some very excellent fandom mentors in my communities and in the form of my uncles, who to this day support me writing and reading whatever hell I please, even in the face of protest from my immediate family. There was a lot of learning I had to do to be here with you now, and I am thankful for those people who were willing to tell me so.

If you want to post memes and think pieces and jokes and poems about a fandom debate, go ahead! You create the experience you want to see on your dash, and you will find your people.

If you want to discuss a fandom debate (a little or a lot), go ahead! I’m all for thinking through how we live and act and exist as a fan community.

If you feel that you need to take those things and turn them into vitriol to pour into the DMs and Anons of people who are running a fan week, that is not okay. Not in the slightest.

There is a big difference between debate, discussion, creative protest, and joking around, and intentionally using your words to create harm in someone’s life.

“But, Chaos, this [thing not directly sent to you/not specifically intended for you] hurt my feelings!”

Okay. Get burned once? Great! You learned something: don’t touch the hot iron again. (To translate: block the tag, block the person, whatever you need, and move on. If it isn’t for you that’s ok.) Hurt feelings are to tell you what you can and/or are willing to handle. If you don’t want to see it, block. (I love blocking tags it’s one of my little joys in life lol)

“Chaos, somebody said something really rude to me to my (virtual) face! What do I do?”

Well, you can either respond or you can block. Either way, it will probably help you to move on.

If you are responding, I beg you to keep one thing in mind. I want you to picture 7 year old you at the other end of that message. Or 13 year old you. What kind of words did they deserve to hear in a moment when maybe they weren’t getting something? Use those. Use them kindly, not in a condescending way, but in a “I want to explain this as gently as I would to my younger self” kind of way. If somebody keeps being mean, it isn’t worth it. Please use the block feature and move on. They are not worth your time.

Additionally, I would encourage you to do this: the “touch grass” mentality is something I only direct at myself. (I literally told myself to go touch grass yesterday, and there is at least one person who can corroborate that.) I stand by that decision every single day. It’s kept me out of a lot of trouble. Directing it at others does not end well, but directing it at yourself can be a good way to reflect and to consider sensible actions in the face of overwhelming situations or emotions (of which I experience many).

“Chaos, people are coming into anon and being hateful. Or just rude. Or they’re dumping triggering material into my anons.”

That is on them. That is not on you. They should not do that. And I am so sorry you are dealing with that. I’m going to be honest, I don’t know if you can block from anons (I’ve never even needed to look and so help you all if this is the post that makes me) but if you can, do. I will do what I can to help, if you need it. Regardless of where you stand on any of these issues, because I will not stand for hatred.

“I’m mad about [redacted] and I am going to be rude/mean/intentionally putting triggering material in people’s inboxes and activity feeds!”

You do that and you will be in a world of hurt, my friend. A world of hurt from yourself.

Because we create the experience we think we deserve. If you create an internet experience where it is acceptable to be hateful, vengeful, and downright cruel to other people, that is the experience you will receive in return. You deserve better than that. And if you believe that you deserve better than that but the people you’re directing cruelty towards don’t, then I want you to hear me: you will quickly find that you are not welcome anywhere. There will always be someone to disagree with. There will always be (at least) minute discrepancies in the way two or more people think, even people who are deeply similar.

Hurt the hand that reaches to help you- one day it will be raised against you in hurt as well.

As for me? Well, for that, I leave you with thoughts from George Washington’s Farewell address as paraphrased in Hamilton’s ‘One Last Time’:

“Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors.”

I am not a president (and thank god for that because who wants Chaos in charge of a country?). I am simply a fandom member. A writer. A little chaos gremlin lurking behind trees in the forest.

But like Mr. Washington, I am aware that I often fail to live up to my standards and principles. And I hope, truly, though it is wildly uncomfortable for me, that you would call me out for ways I have failed to uphold them, either in the past or in the future. (It would be super great if you like… called me out in DMs and didn’t put me on blast but oh well.)

I am in at least four other major (international, GIANT) fandoms. I am not hopeful enough to think that the ACOTAR fandom will learn from the fandoms of yore. We will have to weather these storms on our own, even with the knowledge and experiences already there. I think that’s okay. Disappointing, perhaps, but okay.

Since this post was much longer than it was intended to be, I will summarize:

If you are intentionally putting hateful materials in the inboxes, DMs, and activity feeds of people you disagree with, you will hurt yourself.

You create the experience you think you deserve, and in doing so, create that experience for others. Good or bad.

Block tags, block blogs, block what you need to enjoy the space. You will find your people.

Being intentionally cruel to other human persons is how you end up finding that nobody is “your people” because you created an environment where no one wants to be. You will be lonely and sad. Don’t make yourself lonely and sad.

I am certain I fail to uphold these principles at times. Feel free to call me out if you see me failing at these. DM appreciated, but I’m the one who invited you to do so so I’m not going to say “don’t blast me on main.” My funeral, I know.

[rainydayandmondays]

Thanksgiving Potluck

Summary: It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving potluck at work. Andy wants to make sure that he brings something special for you. You worked so hard, you deserve it.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, slight non-con

Author's Note: This came about after seeing a challenge to write a spicy Thanksgiving story. With the blessing of @georgiapeach30513 to use Andy Barber, this is what I got.

You had been planning the department’s Thanksgiving potluck for weeks. Running around, trying to get everyone to sign up to bring in something, even if it was just silverware and napkins. Andy never participated in these get-togethers. They were some weird kind of team building bullshit that he had never really subscribed to. Why play nice that one day, while all the remaining days everyone was trying to one up each other. Comparing their win-loss ratios like they were some goddamn a-list athletes. The fucking Red Sox, they were not.

But you had started earlier this year, right around Valentine’s day. He remembered your first day, you wore your pink button down shirt the first two buttons undone and your simple gold necklace nestled in the crux of your shirt. Your pencil skirt was knee-length but seemed to hug from your waist to your hips. He imagined his hands could skim down the sides of it as if it was a second skin. Then your sensible flats, all that up top and did you finish with three-inch heels? No, just sensible flats. The red nail polish on your fingers with a small heart decals on each ring finger, let him know that you enjoyed celebrating holidays.

He watched you as you grew into the department, quickly planting roots and befriending each person you met. You were easy to get along with, never really asked for much, but always willing to give. He had spent most of October working with you. You were assisting on the research for his latest case, spending nights in the conference room with law books spread out in front of the two of you and boxes of half-eaten Chinese in each of your laps. You had asked about his story as you took a break from the mind-numbing reading of passage after passage. He had given you the cliff-notes version. The “everything is pretty on the outside” story. Loving wife at home and kid excelling in school. It was easier that way. Even if he could tell you didn’t totally buy it, you let him lie.

You on the other hand, were open. Told him everything. You were a paralegal, barely starting out with dreams of making it to law school one day. A sick mother at home had meant your law school dreams had taken the back burner. Your mom had been part of the last of the baby boomers and their idealized version of marriage. She had taken care of the household, you and your dad. With her bedbound, your dad was completely lost. You took over and everything else had been pushed aside. No sign of any romantic partners or life outside of work and home. But the glint in your eye talking about becoming lawyer, let him know you had more to offer. You had told him how you had aced your LSATS, spent every night up until 4 in the morning studying for them. You were younger then, could handle the late nights. Shit, you are younger now. Just barely hitting your late 20s, if he had to guess.

After those nights spent over cold takeaway dinners and finishing the McDonald v. City of Newton case, he realized that family dinners with little more than polite conversation paled in contrast to those talks and stale fast food. He had tried to get you on his next case, but Neal had snatched you up the moment you were free. He remembered the apologetic look you gave him when he swung by your desk with some briefs to review.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. I’m already working with Mr. Longudice. But you can leave those here and I’ll look at them when I get a chance.” You fidgeted with your pen, twirling it between your fingers. It was your nervous tick, he had noticed it the first night when you had found a passage that completely derailed his current case plan.

He nodded and walked away, noticing Neal looking on from the corner smirking. Fuck him, he wasn’t going to just use you to improve his standing in the department. He watched as the month progressed and Neal worked you into the ground. He found you more and more frequently in the break room, loading up on coffee. You were up to four glasses a day. That couldn’t be good for you. Not if you still had to go home and get your mom ready for bed.

He started to stay later and later, just to make sure someone was still here when you left. Neal took most of his case work home, leaving you with a list of readings to cover and present the next day. He watched as you flipped through pages, making notes in the growing stack of legal pads, and only the small desk lamp providing any light. He told Laurie that he had a big case he was finishing up. It was easier to keep working at his desk, instead of making the trip home, only to end up in his study. It didn’t take much to persuade her. He was pretty sure she preferred having the time to herself, she barely moved when he finally made it home to bed.

One night, he had timed it just right to meet you at the elevators at the end of the night. He walked up behind you, watching as you raised your right foot to scratch at the back of your left calf. Your pencil skirt rippled around your hips as you ran your foot down your leg. The sensible flats, the same ones you had worn that first day skimmed down the back of your left calf and he wondered what it would be like to have you run those sensible flats down his pant leg. He could feel himself twitch in his dress pants. This was a first. Up until this point, he had found you endearing, wanting to help you as much as you helped everyone else. But now, right now, he could imagine grabbing onto your hips, dipping his head into the crook of you neck as he ground against your pert ass. He felt his cock harden that bit more at the image, starting to push against the fly of his dress pants. Using his overcoat from that day’s chilly morning, he covertly covered the front of his slacks.

It wasn’t until the chime announced the elevator’s arrival and you turned around, that he came out of his brief stupor. You smiled and waved him into the waiting lift. That smile did nothing to help him, he shoved his hand into pocket to discreetly adjust himself before walking towards you. Standing next to you, he could smell those last remnants of your perfume. Was it your perfume? It had been a 12 hour work day, maybe that smell was just you. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? You chatted with him, promising that you were going to get to those briefs he left. It would be the first thing you would work on the next day. He listened and tried his best to feign interest, but you then looked up at him as you made your promise to him, and all his brainpower was immediately redirected to willing away his excitement. His hand still in his pocket, it brushed against his tip and he cleared his throat to cover the small groan that wanted to escape.

Reaching the garage, he offered to walk you to your car. You had gestured to the nearly empty lot, but he only uttered, “Better to be safe.”

You only nodded, leading him to your small late 2000s sedan. Reaching the car, you opened the squeaky driver’s door and threw in your workbag and handbag, before easing yourself into the seat. Andy held the door open for you, only to close it once you had settled. Lowering your window, you gave him a smile, thanking him for the escort, “You really didn’t have to do that. You’re a good man, Mr. Barber.”

He leaned down into your window, sighing before bidding you a good night, “You get home safe, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to let the term of endearment slip, but your bashful smile was all it took to let him know he would be using that name again. Watching as you drove off, he made his way to his car. Popping the trunk on the Audi and throwing in the coat and briefcase, he hustled back to front of the car. Giving one more look around the lot, he noticed the security cam pointed at the opposite corner of the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he only took a second to think through his next action. Closing his eyes, he remembered your big eyes looking up at him in the elevator, promising him something and his hand reached down to his pants.

He hadn’t gone down, no matter how he tried to calm himself, his coat had been his only saving grace, hiding away his reaction to you. Wrestling with his belt and button of his pants, he shoved his fly open, grabbing onto himself through his boxer briefs. He had already been steadily growing a nice wet spot on the front side of his briefs. Admittedly, bumping against himself with his hand in his pocket as he walked with you, might have gone a long way to making that spot. A couple of strokes, he reached in and pulled himself out.

Fuck, his hands were still cold from outside. It made his cock jump in his hold and he imagined your little hand taking him. You would apologize to him about your cold hands.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. Let me warm up my hands.”  The imaginary you whispered to him.

“Andy. Call me Andy, sweetheart.” He mumbled into the empty car.

He spit into the palm of his hand, before wrapping it around himself. He could feel you next to him, cuddling as much as possible against him, reaching across the console. Your hand stoking up and down, making sure to twist around the head of his cock. He dribbled onto your fingers and you took your thumb rubbing it along the tip urging more to come out.

“Fuck sweetheart. That feels so good. You’re making me feel so good.” He grunted, his head falling back against the headrest.

He could hear you giggle at that, pressing hard against the vein on the underside of his cock, causing it to throb in your hold.

“Ah shit, sweetheart, squeeze me. I know your hand is so little but try my sweet girl. Come on, try for me.” You would hum at that, reaching between his legs and grabbing onto his sack. Rolling his balls in one hand as you steadily stroked him with the other, giving a squeeze to his cock before a squeeze to his sack.

“What do you need Andy? Whatever you need, I promise I’ll give it to you. Please Andy, tell me what you need.” The imaginary you nipped at his neck, murmuring another promise into his neck.

“Fuck me, sweet girl. Look at me, watch me cum for you. Just for you, sweet girl. Just for you…” He reached for the empty coffee tumbler in his console, placing it under the tip of his cock as he let go. Groaning he pulsed a couple times, continuing to stroke himself until he drained himself fully, because that’s what you would do. You would never do a half ass job.

Sitting back, he looked into the tumbler, seeing a layer of his cum coating the bottom of the cup. He hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. But he supposed a sexless marriage would leave him with a lot of pent-up energy. Remembering Laurie, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the glove compartment, wiping himself before shoving them into the tumbler. After buckling his pants, he started the car, backing out lot and turning onto the freeway for home.

That night had been a couple of weeks ago and he found himself hovering around your desk as much as possible, asking for help finding a text. He would time your coffee breaks and bump into you in the breakroom to make small talk with you. Each time he saw you, he tried to get you to smile. Even on your most stressful days, your shoulders hunch, he would make quick jabs at Neal which would inevitably cause a small giggle to pass your lips. He liked those times, the sound of your laugh would get stored away in his mind, coming out only in the shower as he painted the walls for you.

When you came by with the potluck sign up sheet earlier this week, you mentioned that there were still a few sides left that no one had chosen. Looking at the list, he saw the mashed potatoes listed and quickly jotted his name down beside it. He could probably get Laurie to make it for him. She had been in a better mood recently. Had waited up for him when he worked late. She would welcome him to bed and curl into his side, rubbing circles along his chest. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but if it meant not having to deal with a moody Laurie daily, he would take it.

The day of the potluck, he walked in finding most of the office milling about. It didn’t look like much would be getting done today. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, most had spent the last few days easing into their vacation. He looked at the conference room to see the spread already laid out, you were flitting around making sure everything was set up just right.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you jumped a little as he came up behind you, placing the dish of mashed potatoes in front of you.

“This will be perfect,” you took the dish moving it next to someone’s version of cornbread stuffing.

Turning around, you smiled at him. He thought about stepping back from you, but instead stood still. Reaching up to his arm, you grabbed his elbow and let out small breath, “I should let everyone know it’s ready.”

Slipping from around him, you walked out to the bull pin area, inviting everyone to come and dig in. He watched as everyone hustled to the conference room as he stepped out of the other door. Making his way towards his desk, he settled down, starting up his computer to check some late correspondence. He needed to spend time with you but not with everyone around. He placed his coffee tumbler on the clay coaster that Jacob had made him back in 4th grade. Sighing, he would wait to talk with you later.

The din in the conference room started to slowly die down and looking at the clock he saw that it was nearly half past 2. Most of the office should be heading out for their holiday and he figured, now would be his best bet. Grabbing his stuff together, he headed back out to find the room mostly empty. He couldn’t possibly have missed you, could he? Staring out to the row of desks, he spotted your workbag and handbag still on your desk. So, you were here, just not in the conference room.

Walking into the breakroom, he saw you at the sink scrapping off food into the trash and rinsing off dishes. Standing in the doorway, he watched this small glimpse into the domestic side of you and fuck, if it didn’t do something for him. Imagining coming home to you in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of you. You would still have your work clothes on but only now you would be barefoot. You would relax into him as he came up behind you, arms circling your waist.

He let out a quick breath, shaking himself from his daydream, before setting down his bag on the small table in the room. Coffee tumbler in hand, he approached you, quietly interrupting your dishwashing, “I bet you haven’t even made yourself a plate.”

Looking down, followed by a small bashful smile, you nodded, “There was so much to do.”

Grabbing onto his mashed potatoes, he looked for a spoon before starting to serve a portion onto a plate, “Come on. It’s your potluck too. You should get to enjoy it too. Besides, you got to at least try these mashed potatoes. A lot of effort went into making them. Go on now, sit down.”

Watching you sit down, he turns back to the counter, grabbing the gravy boat beside the sink. Taking the coffee tumbler, he had set down, he carefully removed the lid before emptying the contents into the remaining gravy. He stared as the viscous liquid drizzled out. With the spoon, he quickly mixed the gravy with the new ingredient together before pouring out the mixture on the mashed potatoes.

Turning back towards you, you sat at the table patiently waiting for him as he set the plate in front you. Quickly thanking him, you dug in, spooning a generous amount, gravy and all, onto your utensil and bringing to your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s really good Mr. Barber. Kind of earthy tasting. Are there mushrooms in the gravy?” You looked at him, a small amount of gravy stuck to the side of your mouth.

“Something like that,” he whispered, eyeing that speck of gravy and reaching out to clean it from your lip.

“Oh, I’m a mess,” your cheeks heated as you grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, taking his thumb with gravy still on it and licking it clean, “Go ahead, finish it all.”

You followed his direction, cleaning your plate, your spoon making a sound as you laid it down. You had eaten it all. Enjoying it, if he were to go by the little happy noises you made as you ate. He knew you would love it.

“Here, let me put this up for you,” he took the plate and spoon back the sink and as he rinsed the plate, he asked over his shoulder, “Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Barber. I promise.”

He gulped, steadying himself against the counter at your promise.

“You know, what, why don’t you take the rest home? There’s still a little bit of mashed potatoes and gravy left,” he asked already reaching for the lid of the Tupperware Laurie had used when packing it this morning.

“I couldn’t do that. You made it, you should take it home,” you answered next to him, and he realized that you must have gotten up from the table.

Locking the lid on the dish, he turned to you, already handing over the remaining potatoes covered in his gravy, “I insist.”

He had made that gravy just for you. After stroking another one out in the front seat of his car in the courthouse parking garage, he had sprayed another load into his tumbler. Looking at the cup again, he swore each session’s load was getting bigger even though this was a daily occurrence at this point. It had ended with a particularly bountiful finish, as he imagined you between his legs. Head bobbing on this cock, tits hanging from your top, before you had spit onto his cock, trapping it between your breasts and finishing him with a hard snuck to just the mushroom head of his cock.

It hit him then what a waste it was to rinse out his tumbler every night when he got home. You would love the taste of him. He knew would. Over the next few days, he collected each load, storing it in his coffee tumbler on the top shelf of his fridge at home. He had a couple of close calls when Laurie asked why he was keeping his coffee cold. He brushed it off, saying it was just water. He was trying to stop drinking so much coffee. Bad for his health. She had just nodded, leaving the tumbler alone.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you nodded taking the dish with a smile.

“You can call me Andy. Promise you will?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, giving himself room in the suddenly tight pants.

“I promise. Thank you, Andy,” smiling up at him, he swore you could feel what he did. He swore you knew exactly what he had given you. Swore that you were happy and willing to take it. His sweet girl would take anything he gave her.

“You almost done, Ace?”

Andy was interrupted from his trance, hearing a male voice enter the room.

“Jake!” You called to the blonde man walking into the room. His shirt was untucked and his tie not quite knotted straight.

“I’m supposed to take you out for a Friendsgiving dinner today, remember?” Jake moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Who in the ever-loving fuck is this guy? Andy watched as you hugged Jake around the waist, shaking your head, ready to apologize, “I’m sorry Jake. My day got away from me. Oh, this my kind of boss, Andy. Andy Barber.”

Jake reached out a hand to him to shake while his other still stayed slung along your waist, “Jake. Nice to meet you.”

Andy looked at the hand in front of him, before nodding and giving this fucker a firm handshake. If he squeezed a little harder than he should, well that wasn’t on him.

“Go get your stuff together and then we’ll head out,” Jake whispered down at you, to which you just nodded and flitted out the room.

Stuck with just Jake in the room, Andy leaning back against the sink giving this other guy a once over. He wouldn’t be an issue. No way did this guy have the prowess or charm to lure you away. You were his sweet girl. This fucker wouldn’t change that.

“I’m only going to say this once, leave her alone.”

Andy looked back at Jake, eyebrow raised, before scoffing, “And who are you exactly?”

“I’m guy who knows how to download the feed from the parking garage’s cameras.” Andy swallowed hard as Jake stared him down. He refused to nod, instead crossing his arms and looking down.

“I’m ready Jake!” You came back in, your handbag slung over your shoulder and the mashed potatoes in your arms as Jake took your workbag from you.

“Let’s shake a leg then, Ace,” you giggled at Jake and Andy frowned. When did that giggle change from just being his?

“Bye Andy. I’ll see you next week. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Waving goodbye to the two of you, Andy waited to hear the ding of the elevator before grabbing the tumbler and throwing it across the room. It clanked against the wall before rolling back towards his feet.

Hands on hips, he looked down at the cup. It was okay. Jake couldn’t do anything to him. He had checked to make sure the cameras were never pointed at him. But you, his sweet girl, he needed a new plan. Grabbing the cup from the floor, he rinsed it before setting it next to the empty coffee maker.

It hit Andy then. You did love your coffee. And you always made sure to have cream with it.

@buckybarnesisdaddy, @theinheriteddutchess, @sarahdonald87

[lightlycareless]

Could you please spare some child au or high school au hc? Please I’m so hungry 😔 /hj

Hello dear anon!!

Well, I've decided to write a lil thing for the child au :> It's the au that I have most neglected, mainly because I don't get any inspiration for it 😭 (idk, just... nothing comes to me, you know?)

BUT I did manage to get this, mainly from my experiences... or maybe that was just me. Either way, I remember taking pictures of just about anything and posting them to my myspace (OOOF) soooo........ enjoy :>

warnings: none, fluff. plus a little something I wanted to explore at the end.

Happy reading!

“—A camera!” Naoya grins as he proudly shows off his newest acquisition, a gift from one of his grandparents; the latest digital model found in the market!

And perhaps something the adults might’ve wanted to wait a bit longer before getting, or at least put up some resistance against Naoya’s never-ending fits when it comes to impressing you…

“What do you think? Nice, right?”

You stare at it for a few seconds, before giving him a big, bright grin and a nod.

“Yes!”

Naoya’s heart flutters—his purpose accomplished.

“I knew you’d be able to recognize excele—exclen—excellency!” he boasts, whether he knew the meaning of that word meant or not, is a mystery for both.

“What are you going to do with it?” you curiously ask. You’ve never had a camera, even though you’ve long expressed your interest for it, (your parents were a bit more… sensible when it came to spoiling you.) Nonetheless, what Naoya’s got was also yours, much to their chagrin.

“Take pictures, of course!”

“But of what?” you pout, frowning.

There’s actually so many things he wishes to do with his new camera, things that he’s partially done already, from taking pictures of the new figures he’s got from his favorite anime to the drawings he’s been slowly working on to impress you…

However, he had a reputation to maintain, and such, he gives you the response he thinks will make him look the coolest, straight from Naoaki’s —his oldest brother— book.

“I don’t know, just, whatever I guess.” He shrugs, copying every mannerism, down to the tone, to impress you.

But to you, he only appeared absent-minded, as if he was foolishly failing to realize the great opportunities having a camera presented!

And thankfully, you’d come to his aid. Unknowingly creating a win-win situation for the two.

“Oh, I know! We can take pictures of us doing cool poses!” you grin. “Like the ones in my brother’s posters!! Or that anime you were watching the other day!!”

“That girl group?” Naoya twists his lips, not very… fond of your idea at first, until the frown on your face rectifies his response. “I mean—If that’s what you want…”

Of course, what he said wasn’t what he felt, for the moment you grabbed his hand with your soft one, tightly holding onto him as you led him towards your room, he was nothing but willing to do what you desired.

He’d silently observe you take out a few of the magazines you managed to sneak out of your brother’s room (Ren’s very aware of it, he just lets you keep them, happy to share his enjoyment for the Spice Girls.) and get ideas of what poses to replicate—down to the smallest details.

Naoya’s commitment had some limits, though.

“I don’t know if I want to do that one…” Naoya murmurs, slightly embarrassed, fearing what he’ll look like before you if he accepts…

“Why not? I even got the clothes!” you encouraged. Kind of. They’re your best attempt at something like that. It’s the thought that counts, though.

But in the end, you let Naoya not take part in the activity, solely because he got an even better job to do—that is, being your own personal photographer.

A camera is something that you’ve always been allured to, especially the instant ones where you can get the picture immediately after, so to hear that your best friend is getting one, and that he’s more than happy to share this adventure with you, is like a dream come true!

So, the two begin to take all kinds of pictures, with just about any pose you could think of, and landscapes to choose from; getting more and more ideas the longer this photoshoot went on.

Eventually, Naoya would also feel comfortable enough to take pictures with you; although truth to be told, he was hoping to get one either way, realizing that by doing this… he’ll have a piece of you to take come.

The thought of keeping your adorableness through pictures is enough to fill his heart with this growing sentiment he has yet to discover as love—or perhaps completely understand, achieving so until much older…

When he isn’t fretting about your increasingly worrisome choices, that is.

“Take a picture when I’m jumping down the edge!!” you’d say. “I’m going to do this cool pose like in Naruto, so be ready!!”

“Y/N, wait!” He cries, camera unprepared, while fearing for your wellbeing. “What if you get hurt?!”

“I’m a ninja! I can’t get hurt!”

The number of scares you’d put him through that day are ones that he’ll never forget, the mere thought of them enough to send shivers through his spine…

But even then, he didn’t complain much. Because he was nothing but happy see you smile and laugh, proof that his decision was the right one, yet again, just to show how well he’s gone to know you—already planning what to get when you eventually grow tired of the camera…

If he doesn’t destroy it first when his brothers eventually discover his embarrassing photos.

“Naoya, come here please!” You’d call from another room, a request that was immediately granted just a few seconds after when he crosses through the doors.

“What is it, my love?” Naoya asks, throughout the years, his determination to please you has never dwindled.

“Look what I found!”

“Oh, its—”

The same camera he got all those years ago, the first one he’s got. A relic of his childhood, in other words.

“The camera, that one! Remember?” you say. Rummaging through the moving boxes has been quite nostalgic as of lately, but you never expected to see something so… ancient, no offense meant. “Wow, can’t believe it’s here…”

“Me neither…” Naoya says, somewhat… nervous.

“Think it still has pictures from back then?”

Naoya immediately turns red.

“No!” he shrieks, making you raise an eyebrow. Did you forget, perhaps? “I mean—It’s old, who knows if the battery or memory are any good.”

“Let’s find out then!” you grin, quickly standing up to look for a compatible charger.

Naoya tries to stop you, kind of; he doesn’t really put that much of a fight whenever he sees you this enthusiastic, although he wishes he could’ve for once, considering how anxious he felt for the impending moment the camera turned on and revealed all those embarrassing pictures he innocently took back then.

To when you giggle graces his ears, amused by his antics…

But when the camera beeps on, he’s received with… well, nothing. Just silence as you diligently flick through the photos, each one received by your intense gaze that makes him wonder if perhaps the camera didn’t work anymore…

Until noticing the fluster in your cheeks, then did Naoya dare to ask what’s wrong.

“Y/N, is… everything ok?”

“Naoya… did you really… keep all these pictures?” you ask, slowly turning around to see him, revealing your burning face.

“I… did.” He silently admits, unsure where this is going, but convinced it wasn’t good. “I… well, you liked them, so I thought I’d keep them, in case you wanted to see them again, of course. I didn’t know you wanted me to… delete them.”

It’s funny to see that even when married, Naoya is just as anxious when it comes to openly expressing his feelings—he’s gotten better at it, of course, the two were now living in the same house together, hoping for a baby…

But maybe it’s the inner child in him, the one that never got to express his feelings back then, didn’t know how. Even though he wanted so, so much.

Which is coincidentally, the same reason that made your breath hitch to your throat, heart skipping a beat when realizing that Naoya, all this time, has…

“—You’ve always cared for me, haven’t you?”

Naoya blinks, caught off guard by the direction this conversation was heading; but even then, he nods, admitting what you confessed.

You knew that already; you wouldn’t have married him if that wasn’t the case.

It’s just that… to be reminded that Naoya always had your wellbeing in mind, probably since the moment he met you… melted your heart.

Truly, you had found your soulmate.

“Enough to even… take these silly pictures of me!” You add, it’s your turn to be embarrassed by all the goofy pictures you made him take; you knew you were nothing but a child back then, actions like these more than expected, but now that you were an adult… you can’t help but wince, covering your cheeks with your hands as you continue to fret. “Oh my god, Naoya—how did you even put up with me back then??! Seriously, look at this one!! It’s all coming to me now—I think I got hurt, didn’t I? Or at least that’s how it felt…”

“I guess I just liked you too much.” He says, a smile on his face.

“I guess you did.” You giggle. “Guess you must’ve had it real bad if you were willing to make silly faces with me! Though you looked far cuter than me, but then again, you were always good-looking.”

“What are you on, love? I don’t think either of us looked good.” he snickers, leaning down and looking at the camera. “Definitely not you on that photo.”

“Hey!” you gasp. “No need to go that low!”

“Or what?” he smirks. “Gonna make me take more pictures of you?”

You gasp. “I’ll take this as blackmail, then!” and then, you stand up, sprinting past the door and away from him, hoping to get a copy of these pictures onto the computer and let your evil scheming commence.

“Huh?! No you’re not!” Naoya says, running right behind you, eventually catching up to you and taking the camera away from your hands.

But you meant no harm, of course, not when the presence of them filled the two with nostalgia, fondly looking back to the moment the two were nothing but kids, yet, unknowingly fated to be with one another.

It’s always meant to be that way; to be happy together, whether in the past, the present, or the future.

One the two have yet to create, now as a family.

Which neither could wait for it to happen.

Naoya and YN growing to be together is the ultimate endgame. I will not discuss otherwise :) also, Naoya might be holding onto those pictures in hopes of showing them off to their future daughter, just to get back at her (Naomi is not thrilled, at all. It's probably the first time she thinks of her parents as weird)

Oh, I hope you enjoyed this little thing 🥺❤️ thank you so much for sending in this ask, the child au is 😭 the fluff I need amongst these times of angst haha.

Anyways, I will try my best to write the Naoya b-day one shot :> In between requests and updates.... you know... eheh.

Thank you so much for your patience, take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️

[dotthings]

Dead Boy Detectives notes for ep 7

* Esther vs Cat King make really fun antagonists.

* Richard Speight Jr directing

* Night Nurse ranting about how difficult it is to get someone back from Hell, the permits and the approvals! and no one wants to go there!! is sending me

* Charles making a deal so he can go into Hell himself and raise Edwin from Perdition this is fine

* Crystal insisting she go with Edwin to Hell, Edwin refusing, Crystal deciding to get there herself by making a deal with her horrible ex who is a demon, and Jenny racing after Crystal because she shouldn’t be doing that alone. This friends circle all looks after each other.

* And Niko is being the only sane sensible one in the joint, making constructive suggestions

* Edwin’s spirit found Charles when he was shivering and alone and confused about what was happening and he brought Charles a lantern and he made him laugh and offered him guidance and was there for him to escort his spirit from the living to the dead. He acted as Charles’s psychopomp. (Oh hi there Carver and Yockey. I’m appreciating this in its own right but having all kinds of Thoughts here)

* “You really gave up a potentially tranquil eternity for your friend?”

Because that’s what restless spirits with big hearts do. Sometimes they refuse to cross over. Sometimes even if they’ve crossed over they take a drive and go on an adventure breaking the rules. Because they’re still looking for something. (Again with the Thoughts. The parallels here are driving me insane).

* Really loving the design and gestalt of this sequence of Charles’s journey through the various levels of Hell

* Charles carrying that same lantern!! *heartclutch*

* Master stroke payoff on a little “throwaway” moment earlier in the season of Edwin’s aversion to a creepy broken doll. Throaway moments are usually…not. It all means something.

* Edwin’s rejection of Despair, of vengeance. Now I’m thinking of Charles who said he wanted to be good, who thinks he’s only his anger. And now Edwin’s fear of being taken over, being defined, by his darker emotions too. Neither want to be defined by that. Darker emotions are part of who people are but don’t have to define them. Integration with and acceptance the whole self is the main idea.

* Simon not wanting to leave Hell because he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything else. Someone who isn’t evil. He didn’t know, he made a terrible mistake. Sometimes people get eaten by their own fears and self blame and the weight of their mistakes and can’t see another way

* Jenny admitting she cares!!

* Crystal and her ancestors burying her abusive ex a demon who is only about cruelty in the ground. Not vengeance or despair. Justice.

* “What are you doing here” “I’m here to rescue you” THIS IS FINE I’M FINE1!!!

* ROMANTIC LOVE CONFESSION. IN HELL.

* “I just need you to know” (It’s not in the having it’s in just being)

* Getting love and acceptance back. No matter what. And they’ll figure out what it all means—they have an eternity to figure it out.

* Jenny, reclined with a wet washcloth over her forehead: “Niko, did you just say someone is back from Hell?” Jenny is having A Day (I know that feeling, Jenny. It’ll be okay)

* Subverting the system from within. Using the cosmic red tape against the system.

* “I know I’m not the bravest but I have excellent reading comprehension skills” Niko <333

* Using “Burning” as the music cue (this song is fire, it was used for the Echo opening credits, great song). “Lay your red hand on me baby as I go” WAIT A MINUTE—

Speight’s directing in this ep was phenomenal and that Speight OF ALL PEOPLE DIRECTED THIS EP WITH THIS PARTICULAR PLOT, I—

CARVER AND YOCKEY I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE AND AM LOSING MY DAMN MIND THANK YOU SO MUCH

[thatsexcpisces]

Positive and negative traits of the moon signs

Aries moon

Positive:

Protective, resilient, is able to confront issues immediately instead of being passive, tells you what you need to hear, highly passionate and spontaneous, believe in themselves, confident in their decisions, bring excitement to any atmosphere, live in the moment, courageous, bold

Negative:

Over competitive, chaotic, short-tempered, rushes things instead of letting them occur naturally, impulsive, moves past their emotions too quickly, jealous over partners, explosive episodes of anger, cocky, selfish, want things done their own way, can’t rationalize correctly when upset, restless, impatient

Taurus moon

Positive:

Reliable, encourages you to go after your desires, very committed and loyal once they care, calm and gentle approach, independent, excellent skill set, good listeners, elegant, will spoil you with your favorite things, patient, connected to nature, complete things at a steady pace, sensible, always improving themselves, grounded

Negative:

Doesn’t change their mind easily, can be unnecessary rude towards others they don’t deem as “important” or just bc they don’t know them well, stubborn, overly possessive, difficulty in trusting, can’t accept the truth, bad coping strategies, lack of drive and motivation (mostly it undeveloped), struggle to be optimistic, petty, heavily attached to others and material possessions

Gemini moon

Positive:

Knows how to include others in the convo, carefree, can talk about anything, witty, outgoing, flexible/adapts easily to surroundings, has a signature personality that stands out, well-informed & intelligent, don’t take things to heart, well-liked, approachable, curious, find positive qualities in the small things

Negative:

Gossipy, unreliable, unpredictable, self-deprecating, inability to accept or directly deal with emotions, inconsistent with their decisions, over thinkers, nervous, unorganized thoughts and behaviors, difficult to understand, short attention span/not good at listening, can be immature/childish, overly-rational

Cancer moon

Positive:

sacrifices anything for their loved ones, comforting and gentle, incredibly loyal, supports everyone’s emotional needs, in tune with their sentiments and feelings, make others feel loved, nurturing, positive relationship with others, uses instinct, good at using their resources, forgiving of others

Negative:

moodiness, can go cold and aggressive when overly upset, secretive, holds grudges, unable to leave comfort zone, takes things personally, clingy, isolates themselves, may lack balance in their lives, trouble expressing themselves because they feel so much, focus on one bad aspect instead of looking at the bigger picture

Leo moon

Positive:

Super loyal, always hyping people up and making them feel good about themselves, romantic, always listening to the needs of others, generous, creative & expressive, welcoming, energy that makes others feel happy and included, finds happiness in tiny things, talented performers, know their self worth, can effortlessly cheer others up when sad, inspiring, trendy

Negative:

overly jealous, always need to be everyone’s favorite, can’t handle criticism, bossy, constantly seeking validation, possessive, prideful, over-dramatic, cares what others think, impatient, superiority complex, overly attached to their close ones, mean to others when they aren’t receiving enough attention, unrealistic expectations/standards are too high

Virgo moon

Positive:

does literally anything for those they care about, finds solutions easily, level-headed, trustworthy, always helping and lending a hand to others, logical way of thinking, organized and sticks to a routine, compassionate, puts effort into their work, classy, organized, faithful to those they love

Negative:

critical and judgmental, impulsively offers their opinions, bottles things up, takes their attitude out on others, controlling, hard on themselves, inexpressive, perfectionists, dry, grandiosity, overly anxious about everything, low self esteem, may be inconsiderate towards others emotions, blameful

Libra moon

Positive:

charming, knows how to make others feel comfortable, artistic, love being around others, good at maintaining harmony most times, social, good taste for aesthetics, always caring of others esp their friends, affectionate, they make sure to include everyone, optimistic

Negative:

lazy, liars (mostly to protect others), project a false identity in fear of being judged for being themselves, people-pleasing, using others for specific intentions, avoidant and incapable of confronting their problems, overly-forgiving, always want things to go their way, passive-aggressive, inconsistent

Scorpio moon

Positive:

Protective of their loved ones, intuitive, makes others feel understood, intimate and knows how to connect with you on a deeper level, authentic, smart, knows how to stand up for themselves, unique sense of humor, passionate, magnetic, loyal, they keep their word, dedicated

Negative:

possessive, gets angry easily, dwells on things for a long time, jealous, secretive, always expects the bad out of a situation or person, manipulative, complain about someone’s actions and then does the same to them, suspicious of everything, self-destructive, attaches themselves to toxic behaviors or people, gives too many chances without realizing it

Sagittarius moon

Positive:

Funny, tells you the truth, adventurous, always find the positive in everything, cheerful, will stick up for you, isn’t worried about what others think, spiritual, direct, open and shares things about themselves with others, good at self-expression, go-with-the-flow people, adaptable, knows what they want

Negative:

detached, hides emotions with humor, can be too nonchalant, unable to focus on one thing at once because they’re always looking for what comes next, overly blunt, hurts others feelings without thinking before they speak, inconsiderate, overly opinionated, easily irritable

Capricorn moon

Positive:

Dependable, hardworking, use their time productively, calm in tough situations, ambitious, caring of others, calculated, mature, good at being a leader, analyzes all sides of a situation, gift givers, supports others’ goals, honest, able to recover quickly

Negative:

pessimistic, withdrawn, easily offended, cares too much about their reputation/cares about how others perceive them, difficulty in connecting with their emotions, hides things, hate sharing with others, always has to be the best at everything, condescending, degrading, tendency to overwork themselves, strict, criticize themselves

Aquarius moon

Positive:

non-judgemental, intelligent, cares about their peers and community, open-minded, fun, unique, always coming up with creative ideas, trendsetter, don’t hold grudges, friendly, able to read the room easily, confident in themselves, innovative, observant, conversationalists

Negative:

god complex, stubborn, emotionally detached, uses too much logic and almost no instinct, forget about things easily, absent in others lives because of their love for freedom, try to hard to prove their originality, may struggle with understanding others emotions because of their rational approach, dismissive, cold, aloof, trouble allowing others to get close to them, indecisive

Pisces moon

Positive:

sweet, feel others emotions deeply/empathic, forgiving and understanding, artistic abilities, creative imagination, highly intuitive, heal others, peaceful, love people for who they are and what they mean to them, not afraid to be directed by their emotions, can fit in with other and environments easily, know how to read others like a book, gentle, comforting

Negative:

gives people too many chances, escapists, over idealizes toxic things/people, delusional, sacrifice too much of themselves, carry pain as a result of absorbing others energy, inability to take responsibility for their actions, victims, take things personally, inactive, distracted, heavy ego, flaky, alcoholics/struggle with addictions, woe is me, get nervous easily, detached

[authorautumnbanks]

Stranded With A Demon Lord and the Strongest Sorcerer (6)

Read chapter 5

"That swimsuit is bullshit," Satoru exclaims.

Sesshomaru cracks his neck and then stretches his arms out behind him as he leans against the rocks. Kagome frowns and then motions at her body.

"There is nothing wrong with my bathing suit."

Sesshomaru bites back a sigh. "This Sesshomaru warned you, the priestess's attire is nothing more than strips of fabric."

Kagome glares and crosses her arms, which only pushes her lush breasts together. Sesshomaru eyes her. The thin white triangular-shaped fabric covers nothing. The bottom is worse. It clings to her ass and teases him. Mocks him.

The first time she wore this swimsuit or bathing suit, the priestess had the gall to tell him that white represents purity. There is nothing pure about the thoughts running through his mind. He wants to rip the fabric to shreds.

"I expected more from you, Satoru," Kagome reprimands, uncrossing her arms as she dips a foot into the water and then shivers.

"Me? I thought you were going to come out in a one-piece... not that." Satoru chuckles, but the sound is hollow and strained.

"Come here," Sesshomaru commands, though he is already making his way over to her. "You will warm up soon enough." He reaches for her, pulling her into the water and flush against his chest.

"You can't be serious. I'm still covered in blood." Kagome glances down and then back at his face.

He is not a demon of many words, so Sesshomaru leans forward and licks her cheek. "One day, this Sesshomaru will fuck you in the blood of my enemies."

Satoru coughs.

Sesshomaru slants his gaze at Satoru. "None will judge you here. Leave those human sensibilities back in your world."

Kagome hums. Sesshomaru hisses. Her touch is firm, and his cock is needy.

So needy.

She pulls away, and he snarls at the loss of her touch. Kagome laughs and wags a finger. "I'm washing this grime off me." She leans forward on the bank and grabs the bottle of soap. "You know, we should head back to the village in the morning. There's a lot we don't know about this place." She squeezes a generous amount on a washcloth. "And I'm gonna eventually run out of soap."

The last thing he wants is to return to that village. The priestess acts as though she cannot simply make her own soap.

"Can you lean forward a little more?" Satoru asks.

Kagome glances over her shoulder and does as Satoru asks. "Like this?" She shakes her ass and winks.

Satoru groans. "How long?"

"Many seasons have turned since the priestess has traveled with me," Sesshomaru admits.

"How?"

Sesshomaru lifts one shoulder in response. How is an excellent question. Kagome is a natural flirt and has never given an indication of wanting more. He presses his lips together. When was the last time the priestess took a lover? His mind draws a blank.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Kagome says, washing her body. Sesshomaru clenches his teeth and tugs on his cock. It is not enough.

It is never enough.

Kagome rinses herself and pushes her hair back. The fabric clings to her and the longer he stares at it, the more he wants to rip with his fangs. She flutters her dark lashes and bites her lip. "You know, if we're taking this step, then it should be all of us."

"All of us?" Satoru swallows. "I'm not sure... Sesshomaru?"

"Drop your barrier," Sesshomaru commands. When Satoru nods, Sesshomaru reaches for him and kisses him. Kagome's sharp inhale is enough to shatter his self-control. He growls, and the kiss becomes a battle of fangs against blunt human teeth. Satoru grips his hair and pulls. Sesshomaru nips him. Reprimanding him. The cursed one is always fighting for dominance. Sesshomaru wraps a hand around Satoru's neck and squeezes. "You will learn," he says, lowly.

Satoru smiles at him, but it is one of derangement. Sesshomaru chuckles. He will enjoy dominating this one. Sesshomaru drops his hand and then turns to the priestess. His fangs lengthen. Her arousal is intoxicating.

"Spread your legs," he barks out. His eyes hone in on the movement. Unlike the cursed one, the priestess does as she is told. Kagome spreads her legs. She shivers. Sesshomaru rises and walks out of the water. Tomorrow, he will search for a hot spring. Tonight, he will cover her body with his. He leans over and slants his lips across hers.

He kisses her with fever.

Kagome is soft. Pliable. His. She kisses him back with a ferocity that shocks him. He nips her.

"Patience, you will not rush me." He kisses the column of her neck. His mouth salivates. He wants to bite her. Claim her. "Cursed one—"

"Oh, come on, you can call me Satoru."

Sesshomaru huffs and pulls back enough to rip Kagome's top.

"Hey!" Kagome wiggles her nose. "I liked that swimsuit."

"Strips of fabric. Satoru, get over here." Sesshomaru leans forward and wraps his lips around Kagome's nipple. His eyes close briefly as his hand slides down between her thighs. The fabric is damp with her arousal. He growls.

"Do that again," Kagome breathes. She lifts her hips. There is an urgency to her touch. Her hands rove the planes of his back, lightly scratching. Sesshomaru growls. His breath hitches at the pure look of desire on Kagome's face.

"Kiss her," he commands. Sesshomaru waits for the surge of jealousy to emerge, but it never does. Satoru kisses Kagome slowly. She moans and tugs at Satoru's hair.

Fucking hell.

He wants both of them. Sesshomaru eyes the piece of cloth that has teased him for far too long. He shreds it. Kagome makes a sound of indignation.

"Fuck her mouth," Sesshomaru instructs Satoru.

"So bossy," Kagome says, with a smile. She spreads her thighs and reaches for Satoru's cock. "You like watching?" She wraps her plump lips around Satoru's cock and looks at Sesshomaru.

Minx.

Kagome is a damn vixen.

"Fuck, Kagome." Satoru's head lulls back as he threads his fingers through her hair. "Stick your tongue out... fuck yeah."

Sesshomaru swallows. He grits his fangs, to stop from gripping Kagome's thighs any tighter. He doesn't want to hurt her with his claws. Though she may like it. Satoru's muscles flex as Kagome works his cock back and forth. The sounds are beautiful. His balls are full and heavy. Sesshomaru inhales and then lowers his mouth to her delectable pussy.

Kagome withers under him. He splays his hand on her stomach, keeping her still.

"Sesshomaru!"

He curls his tongue inside her sweetness, drowning in her taste. He could live here for centuries. Until the end of time. Here. Between her thighs. His head is heady with desire. Kagome moans. She grips Satoru's cock with one hand and fondles his balls with her other. He is transfixed by the mess they are making.

"Sesshomaru, please," Kagome gasps.

"You want to come, priestess?" Sesshomaru brushes his knuckles against her slit, mindful of his claws. She arches into him with every swipe of his tongue. Sesshomaru punishes her with his mouth. How long, indeed. Too long. Her leg trembles and she comes with a sob.

It is glorious.

He groans as her taste floods his mouth. Sesshomaru rises and swipes his tongue across his chin. Kagome's breath hitches. "Fuck her," he says to Satoru. Sesshomaru raises a brow at the glossy look in Satoru's eyes. He strides over to Satoru and grips him by the back of his neck. Satoru bares his teeth.

"You will learn your place," Sesshomaru murmurs right before kissing Satoru. He pulls away and gives him a shove.

"Sesshomaru," Kagome breathes. "You don't always have to prove you're the alpha dog." She smiles at him.

"He will learn his place," Sesshomaru reiterates, pulling Kagome halfway in his lap. He stretches his legs and plucks at her nipples. Kagome hisses and then sighs.

"Never pegged you for a voyeur," she says with a laugh. Satoru spikes a hand through his hair and eyes the priestess's cunt like a male that has gone without water. " Oh!" Her hands grip his arms.

"Kagome," Satoru groans. "How do you feel so fucking good?" He hooks his arms under her legs and fucks her hard.

Sesshomaru licks the shell of her ear. "How does he feel?"

"He's so big," she moans. "Harder. Just like that."

Satoru's hand wraps around Kagome's neck. The scent of her arousal spikes and it is taking everything in Sesshomaru to not take her now and claim her.

"You like that?" Satoru asks, his voice is strained. Kagome wraps her legs around Satoru's waist. He barks out a laugh. "Shit, you don't play fair." His hold on Kagome loosens. Sesshomaru gnashes his teeth together. His patience is wearing thin. The need to be buried in Kagome is too great.

He is done watching.

Satoru meets his eyes and grins.

Sesshomaru narrows his eyes. Later, not tonight, but soon he will put the cursed one in his place. He is far too cocky. "Where do you want his come?" Sesshomaru whispers in Kagome's ear. She shivers.

"Tits. Come on my tits."

Satoru groans. "You're killing me."

Kagome unwraps her legs from Satoru's waist and lifts them. Sesshomaru grabs them and holds them back for her. He glances down. Her breasts are pushed together, and she is spread right open.

"Fuck," Satoru shouts as he pulls out. He fists his cock and comes on Kagome's breasts. "Did that shit on purpose," he huffs.

Kagome laughs and then groans. "A little warning, Sesshomaru."

Sesshomaru presses down on her back and sinks into her. He is close to losing control. The tentative hold is close to snapping. "You will take my knot, Kagome," he growls. "All of me."

Kagome moans and pushes back against him. He grips her hips and bends his head. His fangs brush against her shoulder.

"Do not tempt me, Kagome."

She shakes her ass and giggles. Sesshomaru clamps his fangs down. He growls in satisfaction when she goes still. "Good bitch," he says. "Mine." He pulls out and then slams into her.

"Oh Kami! Shit."

"You will only call out my name," Sesshomaru barks out, slamming into her once more. Her pussy molds around his cock. She's tight. So tight. He snakes one arm across her chest and grips her throat as he fucks her. "Say it."

"Sesshomaru," she cries. Kagome gasps. Sesshomaru stares as Satoru brushes Kagome's bangs back.

He will not last much longer. Her pussy is more than he imagined. His mind is so far gone, he feels delirious. Sesshomaru slides his hand down and flicks her clit. Kagome bucks and squeals. He does it again. Watching her come undone is the highlight of this adventure. As long as the priestess is by his side, he cares not what world they are in or what dangers lurk in the shadows.

Kagome is all he needs.

Sesshomaru's eyes flint over to Satoru. He will keep the cursed one as well. Kagome is fond of him, and seeing them pleasing one another brings him pleasure. His cock swells. The need to come washes over him.

"One more, Kagome," he commands. "Give me one more."

Kagome's voice is hoarse. When he lets her throat go, Satoru is there to keep Kagome from falling over. Her body trembles as she pushes back against him, rocking her hips.

"Oh, Sesshomaru!" Kagome's cries bring him to the edge. He comes with a roar. "OH! Fuck!"

"Take it," he growls. His cock pumps as he fills her with his seed. Sesshomaru closes his eyes, savoring the moment of being sheathed in her. He is never letting the priestess go. They stay there, locked together until his cock softens and it is safe to pull out. Kagome collapses into Satoru's arms and groans.

"I need another bath. Someone bathe me. I don't care who."

Satoru chuckles and brushes her hair back. He kisses her forehead. "I gotcha."

Sesshomaru brushes his knuckles down Kagome's cheek. Her smile is contagious. "This Sesshomaru will hunt. I am not done with you."

Kagome chuckles. "Yeah. Yeah. Next time, I'm on top."

Sesshomaru smirks. "Next time, you will take both of us."

Kagome's lips part. "... At the same time? Shut up, Satoru." The cursed one laughs harder. Sesshomaru rolls his shoulders back. There seems to be a misconception here. He is not joking. Sesshomaru leans over and kisses Kagome once more before standing.

"I will return shortly with substance." He glances over his shoulder as he dresses. "And this Sesshomaru was not joking."

Kagome squirms, but her scent spikes.

A minx, indeed.

***

A/N: Happy Sunday! Wishing you a wonderful rest of the week! Please accept this chapter as compensation for the emotional damage done in the latest Wish I Could chapter.

Take care! Get some rest! And make sure to drink plenty of water so you aren't dehydrated. We'll see some more of the world next chapter...and everyone is probably going to be banging like bunnies now that they've taken that step.

Side note: It's so weird writing a smut scene from Sesshomaru's POV. It's probably all in my head though, Idk. I'll get used to it lol.

[kaigarax]

Sleeping Willow

Or This is How to Endear Others

Iguro Obanai x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with an unexpected moment of gentleness."

It is of the utmost importance, regardless of someone’s age, gender or race, to be excellent in at least one thing. One must not merely excel at this single task but be fundamentally better than anyone else within similar circumstances attempting to accomplish that very same task and in a location relative to yours.

Of course, this entire theory can be ultimately tossed out and entirely forsaken if one does not wish to become important (in any way whatsoever) and hopes to maintain an ordinary life. It should be noted that by choosing to ignore this most radical and sensible piece of advice you are outright denying oneself of all human pleasures that fall into either category of dreams or desires.

This piece is, of course, only one of seven different instructionals to help guide you into a world of excellence. One should hope to not just entertain themselves with these pieces of work but look to apply them into their everyday life. Once again, it should be noted that all pieces should be read and thought on for a maximum absorption of the materials.

Now, without further ado, this is how to endear others.

---

“You’re not very likeable, huh?” You tease, walking ever so slightly ahead, your hands behind your back as if you’re an old woman.

Iguro Obanai scoffs, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not very good at getting others to like you, Iguro.” You answered. Obanai has half a mind to smack you over your head with the back of his hand (lightly of course) for your disrespectful attitude. You didn't even use honorifics when addressing him. At least, this time, you used his last name so he holds back.

“Oh?” Obanai raises a brow, “and you are?”

“Of course.” You answer as though it’s a matter of fact rather than an opinion, “have you met someone that doesn't like me?”

Obanai grins beneath his mask, “I don’t.”

“My heart!” You exclaim, bringing a hand to your chest as if you’ve been mortally wounded.

Obanai, still grinning, rolls his eyes, “don’t be dramatic.”

“Sorry.”

“Ugh,” Obanai’s never been a fan of overly emotive people but even more he hates someone while they’re down in the dumps. He knows, of course, that you’re playing around but prefers not to take the chance, “don’t worry too much about it.”

You perk up, “oh, we should do things around town together today.”

“What? Why?”

“You have the time off, don’t you?” You smile, “you should do something instead of staying cooped up all day.”

Obanai raises a brow, “and why should I spend that time with you?”

“I’ll teach you how to endure others.”

“Why would I care to do that?”

“Who doesn't like being liked?”

“You’re insufferable.”

You grin, “and right.”

Just what had he gotten himself into?

---

“So, step one to getting people to like you is smiling.”

Obanai gives you a look that says “really.” It also happens to be what he says.

“And no,” you say, “you don’t need just your mouth to smile. So yes, this is easily something that you can accomplish.”

“How so?”

“Your eyes.” You give him a smile, your eyes beaming into his own, “even if people don’t know it themselves, their subconscious determines how they should feel about someone by how you look at them. If you’re glaring at someone they’re obviously going to be wary of you even if you don’t have any bad intentions.”

“Right…”

“Try it out!”

Obanai tries his best to soften his eyes. Moves his mouth upwards in a smile too, in hopes of it spurring on his own ‘eye smile’ but only works to frustrate him further.

Obanai sighs, “it’s not working.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why don’t you think it’s working?”

“Because there’s nothing for me to smile about. Nothing here worth smiling about in the first place.”

“So, why don’t you think about something worth smiling about?” You ask, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Ha!

As if it was that easy!

Why did he even agree to this in the first place? It’s not as if he wants to spend time with you in the first place. But… Being around you is better than being alone. No one ever wants to be alone in this world, right?

You are… fun to be around. Sure, you usually end up making him do crazy or weird things but it’s not as if you’ve ever forced him into doing something he doesn't really want to. In fact, a lot of the time he actually ends up enjoying the kinds of things the two of you do together. At first he only tolerated your presence because Mitsuri was so fond of you. He isn’t exactly sure when he started to like you in the first place? Maybe some time during the third mission the two of you had gone on together?

When he first noticed how pretty your smile was?

“What’re you smiling about?” You ask.

Obanai huffs, “who says I’m smiling.”

“Oh boy,” you sigh, “looks like we’re back to square one.”

“Can we try something else?”

“Sure. What’re you thinking of trying?”

Obanai’s gaze wanders around the room, his eyes lingering on the window, “maybe we could head outside? Wander around the town and find something interesting to do? That was the original plan, right?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “that sounds nice.”

Huh, you really did have a pretty smile.

---

“What’re you doing?” Obanai asks.

The young girls that had been sitting around you scamper off, running towards the other tables of the room as Obanai takes a seat beside you. You don’t bother looking up but scoot closer to him and hold up a series of woven together strings. He imagines there’s a design there of some sort but he can’t make it out since you’ve decided to only use white string.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, repeating Obanai’s words back to him.

Obanai sighs, leaning his head on the table in front of him, “just looking around.”

“So wasting time?”

“As if you aren’t also wasting time.”

You bring a hand to your chest as if you’d just been mortally wounded, “you wound me. I was here making gifts for my sweetest Tsuguko.”

“A bracelet?”

You smile, “of course! I always try to bring her something small when I go off on trips without her.”

“You’re quite fond of her, aren’t you?”

“She’s a sweet thing and a nice girl - at least beneath that hard exterior she tries her best to put up. Experienced more loss than anyone her age should have so I try my best to show her little acts of kindness.” You explain, “show her this world isn’t just chaos and pain.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“That’s rather…” Obanai ponders for a moment, as if trying to pick the perfect word, eventually settling on, “admirable of you.”

“Surprising, huh?”

“Yes,” Obanai looks away, “and no.”

Obanai has never once in his life considered himself a man of indecision. He did sometimes choose not to act when he should have but never has he been torn on a situation before. Right now though seemed to bring up a part of him that he was painfully unaware of until today.

Even you seemed surprised at his sudden change in attitude.

Decisiveness isn’t something that Obanai prides himself over. Making the decisive choice is held in high regard in their culture but that doesn't mean he doesn't absolutely loathe being indecisive, like right now. Being indecisive leads to the worst possible decision being made at the last second. It leads to consequences that you’ll be forced to accept simply because you couldn’t make a choice.

But right now it's different.

It’s different because it’s you.

“Have you ever been in love, Obanai?” You ask, fiddling around with the ends of the white bracelet.

Obanai looks at you, surprised at your sudden use of his first name. No, he’s not surprised at your use of his first name but rather that he doesn't mind it. It sounds almost… pleasant when you say it. Doesn’t have the same mocking atmosphere as the other times. It’s friendly and almost…

“I think I have.”

Obanai raises a brow, “you think?”

“People often speak about love and how it should feel. Talk about it so much and placed it upon a pedestal so high that I wonder if anyone ever really felt it in the first place. And,” you pause briefly, your fiddling suddenly halted as you finally turned your head up to look at him. “I don’t know if that kinda love I’ve felt for someone is actually the kind of love that people are talking about or if it’s just something else I’ve thought of. So, have you ever been in love?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Obanai trails off.

Love. Such a strange thing to speak of. Funny almost. Now, what is funny is that you’ve chosen to speak to him about this rather than Mitsuri, the love piller herself. Though, he supposes he can see where you’re coming from. It’s hard to understand a feeling when you’ve never felt it yourself. It’s hard to feel something when you don’t even know what you should be feeling for in the first place.

“Yes.” Obanai smiles beneath his mask, though he’d most certainly deny it if you pointed it out, “yes, I’ve been in love before.”

Obanai, of course, hasn’t had that issue.

Your eyes seem to brighten at that, “and did you ever tell her?” You pause, “him?” There’s another moment of silence, “them?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

Obanai sighs.

This isn’t a question he wants to answer. Not something he’s ever even thought about - or maybe it’s something he’s thought about too much. He’s almost insulted at how you could even have the audacity to ask something like that in the first place. But he’s also intrigued. Your bold and brazen attitude was what set you apart from others. What drew people to you.

It isn’t something that works for most people either. Not something that works for him.

Huh, must have something to do with the fact that you’re pretty. Or at the very least because Obanai thinks you’re attractive.

Obanai sighs again, “because no one could ever love someone like me.”

Your eyes soften.

He isn’t bold enough to ask - nor is he brazen enough to assume.

---

Eventually, after watching you attempt to weave together a bracelet Obanai decided to try his hand at the task. You made it look mighty difficult but you did have a tendency to struggle to accomplish simple tasks.

Okay, that was a lie.

But you did struggle with making a bracelet.

At first, Obanai’s hand hovered over pink and green trying to tie the two colours together. Then he added a black and white. It was an alright combination, or at least you seemed to think so. Obanai wasn’t all too inclined to accept your compliment though considering you chose to only use white.

Eventually, the young girls that were sitting around you earlier stumbled back to surround you. They smiled brightly as you told them stories of your adventures.

All of them, except for one girl, kept their distance from him. Likely scared.

Obanai tried his best to soften his eyes.

The young girl seemed to take it as an invitation, moving to sit beside him and hold up a blue string.

“What’s this for?” Obanai asked.

The young girl giggled, “I think you should start over, Mister.”

“Why?”

“Because the way you weaved the strings together won’t hold together very well. It’ll probably fall apart after a day of use.” She explained.

“Great.” Obanai huffed.

The young girl flinched back, her sudden bout of courage gone.

You’re quick to save the day, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders, “don’t worry about him, you Missy. He doesn't mean to be mean. He’s just got a grouchy look to him.”

The girl smiles warily.

“So,” you say, “how do you think this grumpy mister over here could better improve his bracelet making skills?”

She grabs an orange string, a green string and a third blue string. A strange combination of colours. Then, holding it up so that Obanai can see, she ties the ends of them together before moving them back and forth over one another in a braid motion. Obanai isn’t all that familiar with different weaving patterns but is familiar with the braid. It’s simple enough and holds strong. Stronger than one might think.

She hands it over to Obanai, a bright smile on her face.

Obanai accepts it, his eyes softening. This colour combination is worse than his own.

You smile.

Obanai smiles too.

---

With the winter season quickly approaching, the sun was up for less and less hours of the day which meant that demon attacks would begin to become more common. Which then meant that there would be less time for demon slayers to have for themselves.

So, he’d make the most of his time.

Or at least the time he got to spend with you.

Obanai walked behind you, watching as you skipped forward. Eyes darting between all the different people on the street to the various coloured signs hanging up on walls. Obanai had never been a big fan of large cities like this but it wasn’t so bad in the evening.

Suddenly you stopped.

“Are you okay?” Obanai asked.

You were silent.

He was quick, moving up to see your expression, “did you see something?”

You weren’t shocked like he expected, but neither calm. Somewhere between flight and freedom. Stuck between the choice to make a claim or run away to never again be seen. You’re quick to make a decision as your resolve hardens.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” you smile, “you don’t have to love me back. I just wanted you to know. You’re not unloveable, you know.”

Obanai’s rendered speechless.

You don’t seem to mind as you hand him a bracelet.

It’s the white one you were fiddling around with the other day.

“I thought you were making this for your Tsuguko?”

“I thought you’d like it more,” you shrug, turning away, “besides, I can always make her something else.”

Fall in love with an unexpected moment of gentleness.

[velarisbynight]

Silvery Pink And Powdery Blue

Gwyn x Elain

Day 1 for @acotar-omegaverse-week — Nesting: Surely there's a perfectly normal, completely unsuspicious reason they're feeling an irresistible urge to arrange and rearrange the blankets and pillows... right?

a/n: have I ever mentioned how much I adore Gwynlain? 

word count: 1.7k~

~~~~~~~~

“This would be perfect, don’t you think?” 

Pink, rosey lips curve in a smile, the cocoa-eyed female presenting a rectangular teapot clutched delicately between her hands. It seems to be fashioned after a house, with creamy-pale bricking, and lush green vines clambering up the sides; clusters of four, small, powdery blue squares are set into the ceramic work to act in the stead of glass panes; a single, rouge door is in the centre of each of the longest sides, matching the hue of some of the flowers that have been lovingly painted on. 

“Are you thinking of it as a gift?” Gwyn asks, eyeing the teapot, remembering the two others she’s bundled to the back of a shelf: one pale with fat dots of colour spotted across its glazed, round body; another painted in a shimmering, rose pink. 

Straw-coloured brows draw together atop pale skin. “No, I was thinking of it for us. Wouldn’t it go perfectly beside the vase? The one we found in that mountain-top marketplace in Dawn.” 

Gwyn smiles. “But what would we do with our other three? We hardly have need of one teapot between the two of us, let alone four.” Elain’s brow pinches further, pink lips pressing together. Cocoa eyes dip briefly away, before fixating on Gwyn’s teal set.  “Don’t you think it would look nice, though?” 

Gwyn takes a moment to pause. Look at her wife properly. Then she elevates her chin by a singular degree, carefully softening her own expression, a thought passing tentatively through the back of her mind. “I think the teapot’s lovely, but let’s look around some more. Then we can see what else there is on offer and think on this one.” Elain sighs, setting back the teapot where she found it. “I suppose that would be the more sensible option.” Then she glances back to her wife, “don’t let me forget it?” Gwyn smiles, teal eyes dazzling as they twinkle with affection. “I’ll remind you.” 

————

Throughout the pleasantly heated morning, Gwyn observes as her wife flitters about the market place, eyeing up patchwork quilts with gaudy red stitching then fluttering over to a different blanket, one comprised of  the recycled fabrics of various coloured shirts; Elain peeks at pillow covers, ones with burnished gold tassels, others with rabbits in strawberry patches embroidered to the front, briefly assessing a floral case with bumblebees stitched along the hemming. The cocoa-eyed female browses silverware engraved with tessellating patterns that look like honeycomb, crockery with dashes and dots of warmly-coloured ink strokes painting the pale ceramic, more teapots and more sugar cups, tiny golden utensils fit for spooning crystallised honey or slicing squares of softened butter. 

Gradually, the belief in the thought strengthens, and Gwyn begins compiling a mental checklist of foods they’ll likely need to get in—ones that require minimum effort to put together. Perhaps some cordials, too. 

“Gwyn!” Elain calls, drawing her attention. Her wife has now moved onto clothes, and is holding aloft two silk pyjama shirts, one pale pink, the other powdery blue. Gwyn can’t help the affectionate curve of her tips as she paces over to stand at her wife’s side. “What do you think?” Elain contemplates, “I know we have a few sets, but will you feel these?” Gwyn smiles, taking the fabric between her fingers, feeling the cool slip of silk beneath her skin. She can’t deny how her heart beat quickens whenever Elain suggests something like this of her own volition, in this case it being mismatching sleepwear. They seem fairly light, too, and breathable, though that’s likely why Elain picked them out in the first place. She excels at seeking out perfect clothing on a good day, but now, with…something happening… 

But they’ll tackle that when they get home. For now, it’s a pleasant day at the market. 

————

When evening falls and food is prepared, the two take up position on the sofa, a plate balanced on either end with forks in one hand and books in the other. It doesn’t take long once Elain has finished her meal however, to sidle closer to her wife, curling her body into the dips and divots available, seemingly only half interested in the book she’d selected for the night. 

Gwyn smiles, glancing down at her omega, nosing lightly at the crown of her head. Elain releases a sound of contentment, pressing closer still, almost preening at the attention. Gwyn’s eyes twinkle knowingly, discarding her own book to pull her wife closer. “Tired, yet?” Gwyn murmurs, dropping a kiss to Elain’s forehead when she pulls back. “A little… I don’t want to go to bed yet, though.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

Elain’s eyes twinkle, and Gwyn’s blood heats at that look. But then Elain’s simply tucking herself closer, practically in her wife’s lap now, pushing her face to the crook between Gwyn’s shoulder and neck, huffing faint, ticklish breaths against the creamy skin. “You smell so good…” Elain murmurs, sounding how she gets around the afternoon, drowsing in their garden atop a picnic blanket, laying beneath dappled shade with a chilled glass of cordial at her side. 

Garden-roughened palms push at Gwyn’s neckline, urging the fabric out of the way so as to unveil more skin, to taste and scent. Sure enough, Elain breathes in the familiar fragrance of her wife’s skin, able to differentiate between the shea butter and vanilla essence shower oils they have contained to a little metal rack in their washroom, and the distinctive crisp freshness of the outdoors that has returned to Gwyn’s skin after two years of shying from it. 

Clipped-down nails loosen the strings to Gwyn’s dress, pulling them free lace by lace until Elain can push the fabric down from full, rounded shoulders, revealing the swell of muscle on her upper arms, the freckles that speckle her skin from days spent training in the early morning heat of summer. Elain trails the pads of her fingers along her wife’s collar bone, her pink lips skimming just behind, nosing along the elegant length of her throat. Elain’s tongue follows soon after, thighs shifting so her knees are either side of Gwyn’s hips, hands sweeping bright-coloured hair out of the way to make room for her mouth. 

“Elain…” Gwyn murmurs, allowing her palms to open along the curve of the omega’s spine, fingers dancing a skipping march until they reach lower, one hand laying appreciatively atop the swell of her hind while the other travels midway up her back, stroking in circles. Elain’s scent has sweetened since this morning in the marketplace, her body feeling much more tender beneath Gwyn’s reverent palms. 

Elain kisses her way up the length of Gwyn’s throat, pausing beneath her arched ear, nipping lightly at the lobe. Teal eyes gaze back at her when she pulls away. “Bed?” Elain murmurs, a drowsy smile on her soft, pink lips. Gwyn nods back, content to find what mischief Elain will unknowingly seek out once they reach their bedroom. 

Sweet omega. 

————

As Gwyn had predicted, Elain spends the better part of an hour shuffling pillows around on their bed, swapping out cushions from sofas, and borrowing blankets draped over the backs of armchairs. 

Gwyn waits peacefully, bathed in that powdery blue silk, watching as silvery-pink flits around the bedroom. It’s certainly come earlier that either of them would have expected, but it’s no matter. 

When Elain finally comes to a pause, anxiously glancing over the wrappings, Gwyn takes her chance, silently stepping up to wrap blue arms around a pink torso. “That looks perfect.” Gwyn murmurs, pushing a kiss to her mate’s somewhat flushed cheek. “Do you think so?” Blunt enamel tugs at the plushness of Elain’s lower lip, “it’s missing something…” 

“Probably its occupants.” 

Elain huffs, shimmying out of her wife’s hold before making her way over to the armoire, nosing through the clothes until she finds what she’s looking for: a thickly woollen scarf Gwyn’s certain she hasn’t worn since the chill of the early new year. Cocoa eyes brighten with their find, hurrying over to the bed to trail it between the two healthy stacks of pillows. Elain beams, stepping back. “Now it’s perfect.”

Gwyn smiles secretively to herself, wondering if Elain’s aware of what’s going on, or if this is all instinctual for her. It’s certainly happened in the past where it’s taken a few days of supposed ‘spring cleaning’ for it to dawn on either of them, though those short days were swiftly overtaken with locked doors and messy floors, clothes strewn across the lovely carpet. 

Gwyn follows when Elain settles into her nest, the sheets and blankets pooling around her middle before she wriggles down into the comfort, pressing her face to the woollen scarf. 

“It’s certainly cozy,” Gwyn comments as she tucks her omega closer, noticing a further shift in her scent. “You like it?” Elain murmurs, fatigue evident in the heavy droop of her eyelids. 

“It’s perfect.” Gwyn presses a kiss to the soft crown of burnished gold ringlets. “The perfect nest.” 

A beat passes between them, Elain’s tender body briefly stiffening, before she’s groaning loudly, tilting her chin upward to gaze into amused, twinkling teal eyes. “How long have you known?” Elain huffs, laying her palms flat to Gwyn’s stomach, pushing gently at the muscle beneath her fingertips. Gwyn’s lips stretch into a smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she dips down, their brows almost touching. 

“Only since this morning,” Gwyn whispers, doing nothing to fight the grin on her features. “This morning, Gwyneth?” Cocoa eyes gaze up at her wife, pretty pink lips parted in indignant disbelief. Gwyn chuckles, squeezing her omega tighter, feeling the fluttering pulse beneath her calloused touch as she guides ringleted hair from Elain’s neck, sweeping it over a silken shoulder. “It was only a thought,” Gwyn reassures. “I wasn’t certain until you mentioned my scent. And spent upwards of an hour rearranging our bed—that looks wonderful.” Gwyn takes care to stress that last part, so as to not upset her mate. 

Elain narrows her sleepy eyes, but eventually the mild scowl gives way to a resigned sigh. “It’s not supposed to be here for another fortnight,” Elain huffs, giving into the soft pull of her wife’s touch, pressing against Gwyn’s chest. “I guess it decided to come early this time,” Gwyn muses, stroking Elain’s hair. 

Narrow, elegant lips curve, mischief twinkling in teal eyes as she breathes in the already sweetening scent of her omega. “I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

[brsb4hls]

Saw your post about Rolin and the possible disconnect between him and fandom. I think you might be right in some major ways - Rolin saying there will be “season and seasons”and that every interaction between them is DM might not mean what the fandom thinks.

I am interested in seeing an adaptation of the relationship, but I have to say that the latter half and ending of season two frustrated me. Basically because of how impersonal most of Daniel’s and Armand’s interactions were. I don’t mean that as opposed to romantic mind you (didn’t expect anything like that). I just wanted them to have any kind of personal dynamic and/or interaction at some point? The aftermath of s02e05 was really minimal in terms of of psychological fallout between them - sure Daniel’s angry and there’s the martini comment exchange, but otherwise it was all about Armand trying to save the situation with Louis (trying to spin everything relentlessly as AZ said). I just felt that it all was just in service to the bigger plot, at the cost of psychological realism (and character). Of course Daniel’s options were limited as he can’t really do anything to Armand - but expose the truth, but the relative “causal-ness” of s02e06 felt a bit… unrealistic (and convenient). If we’d seen Armand later turning Daniel in a rage as a consequence - him losing it as he lost Louis - him being angry at Daniel, that would have been something! A kind of showcase of an underlying tension - but Rolin skipping it kinda has made me think he just used the DM dynamic as a plot tool to reveal Armand’s lies. Him saying that the mere fact Armand turned him is something is really disappointing. I wouldn’t mind waiting to see it (since I agree IWTV is Louis’ story) but he’s said it’s not happening so… Plot and character moments can be married together in excellent ways, but I just really didn’t feel that was the case here.

I think to call something DM it has to be about Daniel and Armand, it has to be in some way personal. Armand panicking because his lies are being revealed isn’t it, and Daniel’s turning would have been it - but it was literally skipped so there has not really been any DM on screen. Maybe Armand “apologizing” without meaning a word could count, but I dunno. I would say the closest so far is Daniel’s annoyance (and vice versa) of Armand in s02e01 and s02e03. There’s been no real scene or dialogue actually showing these characters being curious or intrigued about on another - even in s02e05 Armand’s questioning of young Daniel is all anger and jealousy over Louis. He’s very quick to kill Daniel and very quick to being okay with letting him live, pretty nonchalant. Sure there is a few moments of them looking at each other which might indicate curiosity but those moments are so small and don’t have any context so I don’t think they even really count as crumbs (since they could mean anything or nothing). Like I was personally really into having them hate each other/be nemeses (plz give me point for proper plural form ;) ) but there was honestly so little. Like I’ve seen people reacting to this show being confused about why Daniel is relatively unfazed after s02e05 and/or asking if Louis and Daniel even told Armand that they remember. Yes, there’s scenes (sushi bar) which reveals more so people looking closely should be able to tell but it does say something about their minimal change of dynamic. If Rolin does dig into this dynamic next season and makes it personal - he has said they will at least have scenes - I’ll be happy, I just can’t help but worry a bit and I feel it’s too generous if fandom takes his words to mean we’ve already seen DM. Am I making any sense? I’m more than happy to be told I’m wrong or worry too much. Thanks for hearing me out! I enjoy reading your takes, as I feel you are quite sensible and avoid filling the gaps by projecting which I feel some other fans (and probably myself) at times do

Thank you for the long ask!

I was actually going back and forth for a while, since fandom can be pretty convincing, but looking back on my first impression when watching season 1 I was pissed they seemed to have cut the dm storyline by aging Daniel up (not that the age itself is a factor, more the 'lost time') and placing the show in recent times.

I think people might be a bit too positive for different reasons:

1) The ship is book canon, it already exists

2) The actors are ship positive

3) Assad does a lot of interesting micro expressions

4) Rolin does talk about it

Now for why that might not be enough:

1) Yes, it's canon, but a small part compared to a large book series

2) I think they are generally fan positive and think that dynamic is fun

3) Assad is clearly invested in that dynamic, he might have added something acting-wise from his own perspective

4) This is the main part, I think Rolin does have a 'red thread' for his show that's as close to the books as a 'modern' adaption allows. He will follow that thread but stray a bit to put in some extras for the fans.

The first two seasons were clearly about Louis, like the first book. Louis relationship to Lestat, to Armand, to Claudia.

With Daniel as a catalyst or plot device, like you said.

Third season will focus on Lestat.

Armand and Daniel will of course still be there, but not the main focus.

And I feel like Rolin treated dm more like an easter egg. Like Niki. Niki gets a tiny bit of screen time and the cut off hands are mentioned by Louis (unrelated to Niki) and part of the stage play graphics. Easter eggs for the fans.

If Rolin does the Lestat story with flashbacks (which he will, how else would you introduce Gabrielle f.e.) Niki might or might not get revisited.

Devil's minion got the easter egg treatment in the San Francisco bottle episode. There was past interaction, and an intense one, just not erotic or romantic.

Plus a blender mention. And from Rolin's perspective that might be enough.

Like, if he planned on filming as much of the books as possible, dm is not that prominent in the grant scheme of things.

It is prominent to fans of course, (like other characters that haven't even appeared yet are fan faves)

I personally was so taken in by that one chapter back in the day it easily became my favourite ship (and Armand my fave character).

But I think if we where to do statistics the majority of Vampire Chronicle fans are in it for Lestat (and Loustat as background otp, plus other Lestat relationships) or started out as Louis fans or simply fans of vampire horror drama.

And Rolin is trying to give those fans exactly what they want and now gets constantly asked about something that wasn't even exactly on his radar. That must be quite annoying.

And he does sound annoyed altho he's still answering playfully.

And I do agree with you about Daniel's and Armand's interactions. If we leave out Assad's possible extra acting choices there is mostly a competetive dynamic between them, where Armand is somewhat fond of Daniel from his own superior position, but also a bit condescending. And Daniel just wants to one up him.

Also yes, the missing fall out from 2x5. 'You tried to drain me, pal' especially the 'pal' that's such an understatement in regards to the whole situation. 6 days of physical and psychological torture and Armand just going 'well you also did drugs, same thing basically'.

So yes, while I do love to clown and enjoy all the dm posts and the cast being so positive about it, I don't think much was planned.

It might change due to popularity, depending on wether Rolin isn't too annoyed and how it fits the script.

They could also still do a reverse chase in the background without a 'romantic' plot simply with Armand going completely off the rails and Daniel still wanting to confront him about his turning.

I do hope for the classic enemies to whatever they have trope of course, but it doesn't have to happen. If every interaction between them is dm-coded already to Rolin he might simply go with a tense fledgling/maker thing.

Well, I cross my fingers, but if I'm staying realistic I don't get disappointed too much. ;)

And I gotta say, Rockstar Lestat looks fun af.

So that's at least something to look forward to.

And we'll always have Daniel being Armand's only fledgling! (Plus a ton of fan works, and that's always a comfort. But hey, maybe we do get a positive surprise.)

[jamneuromain]

All That's Inspiring

Andy Barber x You / Reader

Warning: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Teacher-Student Relationship, Professor!Andy Barber, Student!Reader, Student!You, Pet Names (Angel, good girl), Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Smut, Dom/Sub relationship, Dom!Andy Barber, light spanking, edging, TOYS, vibrator, Overstimulation, Aftercare, just a little bit dacryphilia, Age difference

Word count: 2k

Summary: What would Andy do if he finds out that you break your promise with him.

A/N: I mean, I wanted to write the end as Andy continues punishing her after she finished this first session but… ;_; I’m so craving some warm and comforting aftercare

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

This is a terrible, terrible idea.

Yeah, this is also an excellent inspiration that you have to get out of your head before it slips away.

It’s still a terrible idea.

The rational part of your brain is having a debate with itself. Arguing which is best. Leave your spur-of-the-moment inspiration around and risk losing it. Or, you get your iPad-the sole tool for your writing because you don’t trust the internet and you hate typing on your phone - out of Andy’s study, and write it down as quickly as you could.

It’s such a good inspiration for a story!!!

Your sensible part of the brain, however, is instructing your body to get close to his study, when Andy is cooking in the kitchen downstairs.

Your rational part of the brain can’t help but remind you why your iPad is in his study in the first place.

Andy, your boyfriend slash professor, had you moved in with him months ago. You have started a wonderful relationship (with a lot of sex). And you get used to asking him for help. Namely, when you have poor control over yourself. Such as, you have a 2000-word essay that’s due in two days, and you haven’t written a single thing. To keep all distractions away, you’ve asked him to keep your iPad away from you.

You, here, right now, sneaking to his study to take back your iPad is a perfect demonstration of your poor self-control.

But it’s his big mistake to tell you where he put it! Plus, he’s cooking lunch! That gives you more than enough time to type the inspiration down and put it back and return to your room to write the essay! The sensible part of your brain screams. Just write the damn thing and back to your room before he notices anything!

Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

A little smirk jumps to your lips when you find your iPad lying there on his desk.

Looks like Lady Luck is favoring you today.

You sit on his large chair and grab your precious iPad in one fluid motion, typing your amazing inspiration down frantically when you hear an amused voice.

“What the hell y’ think you’re doin’?”

You freeze.

No.

It can’t be.

He should be downstairs cooking.

And there goes your luck.

“Wait, Andy, I can explain-” You raise your head from your iPad slowly, catching a glimpse of the corner of the “inspiration” document, which now has spun into the start of the story, showing you that you have typed down more than 700 words.

Oh shit.

You are not going to explain yourself out of this.

Andy crosses his arm. You don’t have to read his expression to know his whole face is written over the words “don’t bullshit me”.

Damn, he looks good in his old polo shirt, with the sleeves rolled up.

……and giving you more inspiration for a smutty chapter.

Sometimes, you hope you can shut your mind down.

He interrupts your plea, shaking his head, “uh-uh. You asked me to keep it away when you are writing your essay. I did. We even negotiated so that you can have it back in the evening for an hour of leisure writing.” He runs a hand across his beard, “This isn’t looking good for ya, Angel. And you know how much I hate it when you break the rules.”

Oh no.

OH NO!

Punishments!

You hate his punishments.

It’s no fun when spanking and edging are delivered so that you could learn a lesson.

“Andy please, you know how tricky inspiration can be.” You try to whine yourself out of this, “I have to write it down before it slips away.”

With an adorable little pout.

“Pleeeeaaaaaase? I’m sorry. I promise I’ll give up my evening writing time and get back to my essay now.” Because you (almost) finished typing it and you will definitely remember the general idea when you get back to it.

He rolls his sleeves up even more. Andy is not fooled, never fooled by your tactics.

“I was gonna spank you for being a brat and stealing your iPad away.” He states calmly, earning a pitiful whimper from you. He reaches his desk in a few large strides, hauling you up from his chair, and pulls a drawer out.

Which reveals itself full of toys, cuffs, and restraints.

You are definitely stealing some of them away next time so that he could never ever use them on you again.

Just thinking.

“On second thought, you have to sit down to finish your essay and you can’t do that with your ass red.”

Andy quickly finds what he was looking for, a vibrating egg. Now he is smirking.

“So, I’m gonna help you finish your essay on a reward basis.”

This doesn’t sound good.

At all.

“2000 words, let’s see… hmmm, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He gestures for you to lift the hem of your-his shirt.

Even worse when you have stolen his shirts as your own so you don’t have to wear pants around the house.

Andy straps the Velcro around your left thigh, pushes your panties to the side, and shoves the little egg in your channels.

Your body clenches down in response.

“You have a lunch break to get used to it. I made mac & cheese.” He says with a shit-eating grin, “then you’re going to get back to our room to write your essay. 2000 words, right? Every time you finish 500 words, you get an orgasm.” He pecks your lips, his beard burning your chin, “Careful, Angel, don’t even try to stall it. Let’s just say you will be very motivated to write.”

A loud smack lands on your ass, having you jump.

“That’s for going behind my back.” He peppers sweet kisses to your forehead, “Let’s eat, shall we?”

You knew it would be a punishment.

You never thought Andy would edge you to encourage you to write your essay.

The egg inside you vibrates at the lowest setting, while he sits by the bed, grading papers.

It took you two fucking hours to write the first 500 words.

And he edged you for two hours.

You are on the edge of desperation when you click “save” for your five hundred words. You don’t even bother to finish the sentence, before you half cry out. “Please, Andy.” You can barely stand up, your hand gripping the arm set, your legs intertwined together, your bones itching for release. You are forbidden to touch yourself, as he threatens with spreader bars to add to your “motivation”. At lease you can cross your legs to ease the tension between your thighs without the spreader bar.

“Andy, please.” You plop down in the soft bed on your stomach, lifting your hips up to avoid more pressure on your G-spot.

You reach his thigh, grasping the thin material of his boxers, burying your head beneath your arms as another wave of stimulation runs through your veins. “Please please please please…” You breathe, clenching down the soft beddings when the tiniest of motion on your skin senses as if a huge shock to your nerves, tears rolling down your cheek.

Andy raises your chin with his fingers, a small smirk on his lips. Seeing you cry gives him the utmost satisfaction even if the stimulation did not come from him directly.

“Please, Andy,” you moan, “please -”

Andy leans forward, pulling your body towards his, slowly stroking your tear-stained cheek, allowing you to sit on his lap.

Your legs trembling. Shaking. Your core drenched. Pulsing. You dare not sit.

Sitting means pushing the toy deeper. The torture stronger.

You shiver as his thumb glide over your goose-bump covered skin, as he has yet to make a move to remove the toy inside you.

“Let me cum, Andy,” you whimper, “Andy, please.”

“Alright.” He says in the lazy tone, turning the vibration up a notch in the next second.

Your legs start twitching uncontrollably. Tears prickle your eyes, gushing down like a stream. The burning need to release clouds your mind like a haze, driving away the last bit of thought from your head. You clench his shirt, his arm. Him holding you in place, palms wandering down your spine and your waist, holding you right next to him.

Andy kissing the top of your head, keeping you close to his body, “Shhh. Cum, Angel, make me proud.”

As if on cue, a sharp cry rips your throat. Your pussy leaking. Small dribbles of your cum slides down the silicone toy down to your thighs. You’re crying again, when he presses your head to his chest, telling you what a good girl you are, telling you are so good at obeying orders, telling you to breathe.

Throbbing. Stinging. Numbing. The cluster of nerves down your clit calming. The vibration stops somewhere in the middle. The toy out of your body.

You sigh for relief.

“… making me so proud. My sweet little angel. Taking the punishment so well, hmm?” Andy wipes the tears off your cheek, kissing your brows gently.

You sniffle, wiping the remaining tear-stain on his shirt, and lying on his chest as your pumping heart slows its beat.

“Now, Angel, what do we say when I punish you?” He caresses your cheek, cleaning your sweaty body with a cloth he prepared by the bed, looking into your eyes, which are still hazy and clouded with pleasure.

“Th-thank you, Sir.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry for breaking our promise and writing my inspiration on the iPad when I should be writing for my essay.”

“Good girl.”

Andy draws smooth circles on your shoulder and your back, waiting until you stop sniffling.

“Want me to run a bath, Angel? A small nap?”

You nod to the nap. Andy gets up to set an alarm for thirty minutes, and closes the blinds, dimming the light in the room.

He changes the stained sheet into a new and softer one, fluffing the pillow before closing the door behind him.

You claw onto him the minute he’s back in bed, easing the discomfort between your thighs by putting your leg above his.

He pats your back like you are some children asking for the company of their parents because they are scared of monsters under the bed, in this case, the monster lies in bed with you.

The big bad monster that bosses you around and tells you what to do and what not.

Your Andy.

Who knows you through and through. Knowing that you will behave for a while, at least before finishing this essay. Knowing you want physical closeness after a tense session. Knowing you desire skin to skin contact.

Knowing you will fall asleep quickly and be pouty when woken up by the alarm minutes later.

Knowing the punishment just might give you more inspiration about your next story.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

so just as any besties do, @teddybearbutchh and i were talking about the whole 'shax wears a cobra belt' thing, and we might have just dreamt up The Most heartstopping thing to date... but couple of key notes first:

i know people have remarked that shax most obviously wears the belt in the modern scenes, indicating some kind of power play that she pinched it from crowley's flat. issue is - im fairly sure that she wears it in 1941 (you can see a glimpse of it at the end when she's present in the audience between furfur and dagon), which would suggest it leans more towards herons-eat-snakes symbolic explanation. taking one step further, im regarding this as some kind of foreshadowing that there will be some kind of direct conflict between her and crowley

shax is either a social climber, or has incredible amounts of career ambition - probably a bit of both, but im leaning towards the latter. im still also of the mind that the reason she has the ear of the council is because she's an informant (and a good one at that) and her MO is to recruit others to do the dirty work for her... so when she tells furfur that she'll pay him back if he ever gives her information that she can use, it stands to reason that she'd be pretty miffed re: furfur seemingly going maverick to catch aziraphale and crowley in the act. i feel like her smirk at the end of the ep, plus how cold furfur is towards her in ep5, would support this somewhat

^but shax is still armed with the knowledge that there's something between aziraphale and crowley (furfur might not have hard proof anymore but he obviously wasn't lying, not when you consider his confidence from shax's perspective), and to catch them would be tantamount to a promotion

chekhov's gun #1: the derringer

chekhov's gun #2: zombies still roaming around london, with one of them presumably still having access to the bookshop if aziraphale invited her in when she posed as an MI operative

chekhov's gun #3: constant mentions in both 1941 flashbacks of 'the paperwork'

shax makes a point in the bentley to separate out the statement that there were rumours that aziraphale and crowley were "an item", which arguably is a good hop, skip and a jump away from "consorting and collaborating" as furfur termed it

a bit about the holy water: crowley first asks for it in 1862, after an indeterminate number of times/length of time in hell, probably under some kind of torture. he and aziraphale then presumably don't speak until 1941, but he remarks again how easy it would be to get holy water from the church, "it doesn't even have guards!". then it's in 1967 that he plans the heist to rob a church. now believe me, i love the explanation that crowley was simply inspired by good, ol' 007 to make getting the water as dramatic as possible, but. if he was that desperate for it, why not just... tempt someone, or even just ask someone for a bottle of it? from a church? i can't imagine that he'd purposefully wait 26 years for something that he felt was literally life-or-death (so to speak), and then only be reminded of it when JB came out? so, what was keeping him for a quarter of a century?

herein lies the batshit part 3 spec of 1941. shax takes advantage of the situation, to get ahead on the greasy pole; goes up to earth, finds the zombies, recruits them one last time to get into the bookshop - possibly to get ahold of the photograph and take the credit for furfur's scheme. 'lo and behold, aziraphale and crowley are low-key about to jump each other (waving the tired and battered 1941 truther flag), which is just plain excellent for shax - and would fuel the 'rumours' that they were an 'item'. but zombies give themselves away before anything juicy really happens (boo), and some kind of fight ensues.

derringer gets pulled out of the mystery book (bonus points if it's a bible, or something like sense and sensibility), crowley gets shot, probably trying to protect aziraphale, gets discorporated. he's summarily trapped in hell, sorting through the fucking paperwork, until sometime in the 1960s. reinvigorates his scheme to get his hands on holy water, aziraphale hears about it, and gives it to him (now having been confronted with The Direct Consequences hell will have for crowley if anything like this ever happens again), and wards him off from getting too close to aziraphale, because of the danger it poses. "you go too fast for me".