#though of course for this to work breed standards would need to change as well

[butchshepherd]

instagram is wacky i just saw someone comment that banning ear cropping would just lead to ppl importing dogs instead, or doing it "in their kitchen with scissors and baking soda".. i dont think everyone is as out of their minds as you are dear social media user. also as if several countries didnt already make that change years, if not decades ago in a lot of cases. its literally fine.

[thecapricunt1616]

Vervain - c.b. one-shot

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Vervain - Use in Protection, purification, youth, peace, healing, sleep and baths. For all-purpose protection of homes and people (especially children).

♡ Summary: You & Carmy had your first baby 8 weeks ago... seeing him being so attentive and such a good father is for some reason inducing a baby fever - again.

♡ W/C: 4.6K+

♡ Posted Date: 05/09/2024

♡ A/N: OOOO hey yallllll! Capri is back - She was written by the writing bug this morning!!! I have other requests i'm still working on but for now - I am swallowing my stage fright, I hope this suffices for what you were wanting future Mrs.Berzatto eek!!! Thank you so much for requesting from me! You can see the request this one-shot is based on right ♡ here ♡ if you aren't following @carmenberzattosgf already I'm quite unsure how you found ME before you found HER go give her a freaking follow!!!I am seriously such a fangirl for her work and was over the moon when she requested me!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Pregnancy stuff, breeding kinks, talking about parenting stuff, Dad!Carmy, unedited (we die like men), NO USE OF Y/N!, AFAB/Feminine reader w/ long hair implied

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

It had been exactly 8 weeks today from when you’d given birth to your baby girl, Athena. Of course, you weren’t thinking about this yet - because you were peacefully sleeping away in bed, at 8:45 am. Each day you woke though, you were surprised your life wasn’t a dream. 

Being married to your ultimate dream man, with the most beautiful little baby and not a rush in the world. Carmy had known when you got pregnant he’d be taking some time off after you gave birth to care for you, especially since you’d been trying for a baby so he was more prepared to have everything set up. He made your life almost impossibly easy. 

Impossibly meaning it was nearly…isolating how simple your problems were compared to other moms. Since Carmy was like - the fucking golden standard of dad. You weren’t sure where he learned all this shit- especially since his father was never around and you knew for a fact didn’t treat his mother like this. You honestly felt bad complaining about anything to other moms - because in comparison when you did they were needing to do way more then you, and alone - because their husbands simply didn't care, or weren't interested in learning.

He had completely taken over the nighttime feedings, every 2 hours an alarm buzzing him awake on his watch. He would go ease little Athena awake, come back to the bedroom, gently wake you, set a boppy in your lap, help you undo your maternity bra and get her latched, and rub your back through the cramping that breastfeeding brought, whispering sweet encouragements and kissing your temple. 

After she was done eating, he would help you get situated again, bottle up the letdown milk and put it in the mini fridge he’d gotten for your bedroom for this specific purpose before bringing your daughter back to her nursery and burping her, before changing her and putting her back down - just do do it all again an hour and 15 minutes later. 

He took over the cleaning completely - your house was spotless nearly at all times, and of course you were very well fed. He would combat the exhaustion fatherhood brought by passing out next to you in bed after he brought you breakfast on a cute little tray and Athena had her morning feeding before being put down for a nap, baby monitor on his chest so he could jump up the second she fussed. 

“G’morning mama” was what woke you this morning, that and gentle kisses on your forehead. You heard quiet little coos and immediately your eyes were open on instinct, to see little Athena nuzzled up in Carmys arm like a little football and a tray of amazing smelling breakfast in your face. 

“I want my baby” you open your arms and he gently placed her on your chest to which she grunts happily and squirms her little legs, doing everything she can to lift up her head to see you. 

“She’s such a good girl mama she helped me make breakfast f’you this mornin’ she’s the best little sous ever” he cooed, looking at her beaming with happiness as he rubs her little back. 

This was what got you. You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, if it was the fact your husband looked like a fucking Greek god incarnate, or if it was just - you don’t know…human fucking nature?! Literally? But the insane level of need that you had for him - you wanted another one. 

Athena wasn’t even rolling on her side yet and you were already craving being pregnant. Well- Carmy did love your body while you were pregnant. You loved your body while pregnant, you felt sexier and more feminine and pretty and overall like a goddess. Mostly thanks to Carmy and his constant praises, and the way you two were fucking like rabbits during your pregnancy and you missed that. 

“What’s f’breakfast daddy?” You pucker your lips to which he obliges and gives you a sweet peck 

“So this mornin, Miss Athena she decided on an omelette so we have a French omelette with dill-“ he explained and you inturrupt with a giggle 

“Did you? You came up with that all on your own Athena? Such a smart girl!” You joked, kissing the top of her soft head to which she just huffed a breath to your skin and made little baby grunting noises as she wiggled her legs 

“She did! Then we also have a light cucumber salad f’you with fresh herbs ‘f’course, sourdough toast, and a banana smoothie. All made with love” he kissed the top of your head. 

Each morning after her first feeding, he would take Athena into the kitchen with him, baby wear her because he is just that perfect, and explain every little detail to her softly while he would cook breakfast, giving her head gentle kisses along the way and rubbing her back soothingly. He did the same while cooking lunch, and dinner. The first time you saw this you burst into tears at the sweetness and the beauty of creating your own family.

“Wow sweetheart thank you! This looks sooo yummy” you kissed the now drowsy baby’s nose and she smiled softly, causing you to smile and Carmy to gasp happily. 

“Look at that little smile ‘eh? Such a pretty girl” he rubbed her back gently and you carefully picked her up and put her on his chest so you could eat, to which he happily laid back, palm flat over her little back patting her soothingly. 

“Can’t wait to try this bear looks so yummy” you pull the tray in your lap and cut off a bite, trying it and nodding “course a ten.” You look at him and he huffs a laugh as to not wake the baby who was clearly ready for another nap

“Y’always say ten” he said softly and pressed his lips to Athena’s head gently, breathing in her baby smell. “Do you know what day it is?” He mumbles and looks over at you. 

“I’ve been waiting for this day for….eight weeks” you smirk and he shook his head amusedly with a smile. 

“Babe- you’ve been” he covers her tiny ears “you’ve been sucking me dry I didn’t even have a break. This is gettin’ exhausting” he joked and you laugh quietly as to not disturb the baby. 

“Not my fault you’re like- don’t get me started I need to eat and shower and shave and - today is a big day.” You said and sipped your smoothie, humming happily “this is really good seriously bear” you told him and he rubbed your hand gently before pressing it to his lips 

“Alright well that means I better get a move on then and there’s laundry t’do so I better go put ‘er down, you eat. Watch y’show ’er whatever and you can do your shower mm?” He asked and you nodded happily. 

Of course he’d oblige your every wish. He had always been this way, but became even more lenient after you’d gotten pregnant. You made sure many times through tearful guilt that he wasn’t making himself resent you, and he assured you that everything he does he wants to do and only does because of the fact that he wants to, he also assured you he could never resent you or even dislike you, or anything less then be fully in love with you. 

You had a luxurious shower, slathered on your favorite lotion and were even able to blow out your hair, putting on your favorite pair of lacy panties. You were upset you had to settle for a nursing bra, but knew Carmy wasn’t going to mind. You put on one of your comfortable slips, even put in some earrings after doing your skincare. By the time you were done Carmy was just getting Athena up from her nap and changing her diaper before bringing her in 

“Say hi mama” he takes her little hand waving it at you “did you have a nice shower?” He pecked your lips sweetly and helped you get settled with her on the bed so she could eat. 

“Very nice - thank you for taking care of everything sweetheart” you sit back, sighing softly and resting your head back “I love you” you look over at him with a sweet smile. 

“I love you beautiful, how y’feelin any cramps?” He asked and held your hand, lacing your fingers together sweetly and kissing your fingers. 

“No- well…not as bad anymore If anything when she’s not as hungry my boobs start to hurt” you explained and he nods 

“Well y’look beautiful baby, I love these on you” he gently touches your earring bringing a smile to your lips, he always notices the smallest things about you. Like he has you memorized. 

“Thank you Bear” you said softly as the baby makes little gulping suckling noises. Carmy chuckled, rubbing her belly lightly. 

“That’s the good stuff huh little? Mama’s got the golden tap” he jokes and you laughed, holding her securely 

“Stop! Stop making me laugh she’s comfy latched like this you’ll piss her off” you nudge him with your foot gently 

“It’s true! You were the one that forced me to try it. It’s sweet, I see why she likes it.” He said and you scrunch your nose, biting back giggles 

“Yes because it encourages her to eat it.” You gently brush that spot over her nose bridge and forehead, causing her eyes to flutter shut “that’s why when she’s 6 months we can’t let her have fruit for a while cause she’ll think everything’s sweet like my milk” you explained 

“Mmm…read that too in one of the books you got- it’s a good call” he thumbs over her fingers gently that were wrapped around his forefinger tightly like a baby monkey. 

“You should sleep” you told him softly. “You can have snuggles with her I’ll watch you” 

He smiled and leaned in, kissing you lovingly “thank you sweets. I can burp her s’okay. I already got the towel” he said and grabbed it from his nightstand. 

She only took a few more minutes before she slowly stopped suckling and instead went to fall right asleep but before she could you took her off and handed her over to Carmy for burping to which she fussed before she realized her dad was taking her then she relaxed again. 

After Carmy fell asleep, you went to put her down for a nap as well and put away the laundry Carmy had washed. It was about 3 hours before Athena began to fuss again and you went to get her, sitting in her rocking chair after you’d changed her and reading her a book as she ate. 

Carmy came in just as you were finishing up The Very Hungry Caterpillar “that’s a good one huh princess?” He said softly, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckle to which she fluttered her eyes open and smiled slightly before closing them again. 

“Mmhmm, that one always puts her to sleep, she stopped eating 3 pages ago but I like to let her have a little time” you said and gently pulled her off to which of course she fussed. Carmy took her, hushing her sweetly and putting her on his shoulder. 

“Y’mommy spoils you little girl” he told her, gently bouncing her as he burped her, putting a cloth on his shoulder and kissing her head. You smile slightly as you fixed your bra and nightgown 

“I’d say we both spoil her. The doctor says she’s the happiest baby she’s met” you fixed her little sock that she’d managed to wriggle down to her toes before kissing her foot 

“And the smartest and the prettiest and the most perfect “ he told her sweetly patting her back as she let out a big burp “good girl” he said and you giggled 

“That was a good one” you told her and kiss her head gently, seeing him like this with her, especially mixed with a sleep thick voice, no shirt, and messy curls - not to mention the stubble from not bothering to shave as often. He looked…delicious 

“Mmm- such a sexy daddy too” you mused, kissing his neck gently and rubbing your palm over his abs that had gone a bit softer due to spending way less time in the gym, but you loved it. 

“Yeah? Even with throw up on my shoulder mm?” He joked, and usually that would be gross - but fuck. The way he stepped up as a father constantly - everything he did was with the two of you in mind and you never even had to ask. He’d quit smoking for god sakes without you saying a word once he’d found out you were pregnant. 

“Especially. You’re so fucking amazing Carmy. Let me go to the bedroom so you can put her down but we need to talk” you told him and kissed his lips lovingly before heading back to the bedroom so he could work his magic getting her to sleep. 

It only took him 20 minutes before she was out and he came to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Needa talk mm? Got a feelin’ we won’t be doin much talkin’ “ he teased, throwing her spit up towel in the hamper easily and coming to lay down with you. As soon as his head hit the pillow you were straddling his lap, your hands on either of his shoulders like a hungry lioness in heat. 

“I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 

“Holy fucking shit” he said, chest rising and falling quickly “what got into you- im not complaining but-“

“Get me pregnant. I love it- I love it Carmy. God I feel so fucking hot. And seeing you with our daughter being all attentive and good to her? Holy fuck baby. Mm when people look at me - when they look at us I love it. I love knowing that people know you knocked me up.” You said, kissing his neck and sucking a hickey into the stubbly skin there. He moaned softly, palming your ass and squeezing your upper thighs 

“No baby not yet - not yet mm? Y’need time to heal…we can pretend mm?” He counters and gently brushed your hair back. You whine and pout, pulling back and looking at him 

“No. I want it now get me pregnant now.” You beg and hold his hands “pleeease I’m all healed remember? It’s 8 weeks.” You said and kissed over his tattoos, hoping you were distracting enough to get him to agree.  

“Mm yup you can have me inside you again, but doctor said having another baby so fast would cause them to have low birth weight. We don’t want that for our babe no? Also y’breastfeeding babe. The chances of you getting pregnant are super low” he said and you huff, sitting up frustratedly 

“You really know how to turn a girl off, you know that right? Can’t you pretend to satisfy your wife? Don’t you think I know?! Do you think I’m stupid?” You snip and he raised his brows 

“Y’gettin sassy w’me?” He questioned lowly and squeezed your hips “fix the attitude” he ordered and you bit back a smile. 

“No.” You crossed your arms “I don’t have one” you snip “you’re being mean t’me. Y’being mean to your wife” you teased, shoving his shoulder into the pillow playfully. 

“Ohh” he chuckled a bit “did you just push me?” He mused, grabbing your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt, just enough to show you he was willing to play. 

“What would you do about it if I said yes?” You leaned in so close your noses were touching. 

“You’d be in trouble” he smirked, leaning in and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking and nibbling it gently the way drove you wild. You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The feeling went straight to your core, warmth flooding your abdomen and your clit twitching with excitement. 

“Please” you said softly, well as much as you could mumble with one lip the other still being assaulted by Carm who was very much enjoying the way you were squirming in his lap to get any kind of friction you could. 

He finally releases you “please what angel?” He spanks you lightly “what d’y’need mm?” He lifted your nightgown over your ass and squeezed the flesh, reaching under you and cupping your heat. He hummed at the feeling of dampness already soaking the lace, collecting as much as he could on his fingers. 

“I need you t’fill me up again. Fuckin breed me make me a mommy again mm?” You begged, grinding against his hand - not even caring about the whorish filthy moans falling from your lips. You’d been fantasizing about this for weeks now, the relief of his hand- his wonderful calloused, thick, muscular hand, felt like it was enough to send you into a full orgasm just from the pressure his fingers were giving. 

“Holy fuck y’soaked babe- my god” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and gently rubbing circles into your swollen throbbing clit that was already twitching. Your hips buck and you bit down on your hand to hold in a cry as to not wake the baby. The next 3 or so minutes you couldn’t even remember what you said as he rubbed firm quick circles over your clit and after not having been touched for nearly 3 months - you were cumming on his hand mumbling his name, and profanities that would likely be considered sacrilegious while whimpering and squirming, thighs shivering - the whole 9. 

“Wow” he muttered, and if your orgasm wasn’t so intense you would probably have laughed at how amazed he sounded. “Y’good?” He rubs your stomach gently and you nod quickly, trying to even your breathing. 

“Fuck-“ you said once you came down “I literally blacked out for a second I think-“ you laughed and he followed suit, carefully laying you down after tucking 2 pillows under your hips to keep you elevated and tugging your panties off. 

“Shit babe y’get all soft on me?” He teased, carefully wrapping your thighs around his waist and pushing down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his cock free. You loved this. It all felt so normal, you were worried it would be awkward getting in bed again, but you two were picking up right where you left off. 

“I think you’re underestimating how sensitive hormones make you” you said as he kissed over your stomach and hips, licking a stripe up your heat causing you to gasp and grip the sheets tightly , your core clenching around nothing. Each touch felt like the power of a lightning strike, it was so much better than before. It had to be the hormones, but shit - now that you knew how good this felt you were worried you could never get enough of him. 

“I guess I was. Also y’super sweet now by the way - sweeter then before I should say” he spread you wider with his fingers to lap up more of your arousal and you look down at him, moaning at the sight. 

“God I fuckin missed you between my thighs - you’re so pretty” you smile, watching as he strokes himself as he continues to pleasure you first per usual. “Can you- try inside?” You asked gently and he looked up at you, resting his cheek on your thigh. 

“You’re ready for that?” He asked softly, his lips and chin glistening with slick. 

“Yeah- uh…try one? Maybe just one at first” you said sheepishly and he nodded, licking his lips 

“Course sweetheart, tell me if s’too much yeah?” He assured and rubbed over you gently before easing a finger over your entrance. 

The feeling was…well. 

It was similar to the uncomfort of your first time, which - if that was the case then it would just take a few times to feel good again. “How’s it feel?” He gently sucks your clit as he eases to the second knuckle, curling gently 

“Mm- okay? Not like it used to. But kinda like it used to…maybe it’ll feel better the more we do it” you assure and he nods a bit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud in the way that always got you to open up to him and you gasped lightly, back arching and core going lax. He slipped the final knuckle in and placed a kiss to your mound before slowly pumping as to not overstimulate you. 

“Yeah- mmm yeah” you breathe as it started to feel more familiar, the muscles loosening once again and relaxing. “Another- you can try another.” You told him and gently lace your fingers in his hair. He carefully eased in his forefinger, curling them against your g-spot and your thigh twitches, you nearly sobbed at the feeling that shot through your body at the contact. 

“Oh- okay found it-” he chuckled a bit “sorry did it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head quickly 

“Again” you said softly, trying to remain all of your control because you knew as soon as you lost it finding it would be nearly impossible and you two had a sleeping tiny human 1 room over. 

“Y’feel a lot tighter” he said, pumping his fingers slower, curling them against that fantastic spongey spot each time and you felt that coil in your belly tightening rapidly and it was going to snap now, any moment. “Y’like gushing right now” he chuckled, but it fell on deaf ears because your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. 

You couldn’t form a thought even if you tried, the mixture of his tongue sloppily drooling all over your clit as he padded over it, and the jolt of pleasure each curl of his fingers - it was a place long forgotten since your baby had been born since your priorities had both been changed and refocused for the time being. You weren’t able to warn him, you couldn’t do anything other then mutter his name as your orgasm washed over you so hard he had to hold your legs open so you didn’t crush him by mistake. 

“Fuck me- fuck me baby please Jesus- fuck me” you found yourself begging as you fluttered your eyes open and he was looking up at you in amazement like an owl, mouth slightly agape. 

“Holy shit” he muttered “you’ve never cum like that- what the fuck- I thought I almost killed you” he kissed your thigh and you laugh, a real laugh, chest rising and falling quickly as the aftershock of your orgasm reels back mixed with your giggles. 

“Please. Please” you cup his cheeks “cum inside me” you beg. He trailed kisses up your body, meeting your lips and pulling you into a hot, messy kiss. Mixed with clashing teeth and mixing of spit and sucking of tongues, before lining himself up and carefully pushing his tip in. You whimpered into his mouth and he pulled his lips away from yours, a small string of saliva connecting you both 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly and you shook your head

“Feels so good bear. Keep goin’ fuck I f’got how full I can feel” you pulled your lips back to his and felt him smile into your lips, holding your hand and lacing your fingers as his other hand worked on rubbing circles into your clit. He kept you quiet by making out with you as he thrusted in fully, staying still for a moment so you could adjust to the sensation once more. 

He grunts, feeling your walls flutter around him and you giggle in response, causing him to moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him “shit don’t do that I’ll fuckin cum”

“Then move dummy!” You push your heels into his ass and he chuckled, thrusting slowly in and out, nearly to the tip, before thrusting all the way back in to the hilt- his balls touching the curve of your ass 

“ are y’fuckin kickin me like a horse?” He teased as your back arched off the bed, a whiny moan tearing from your throat and he covers your mouth quickly, “here y’are beggin me t’fuck a second one int’you- y’haven’t even learned how t’be quiet for the first. The baby is sleeping.” He grumbled, and the way he was getting rough with you to protect your baby was enough to throw you into your third orgasm, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation of your clit, whining and squirming beneath his grasp. 

“Y’gonna be quiet? Er do I have to keep you muzzled ‘mm?” He teased, removing his hand from your mouth 

“Promise- I promise- please please please Carmy - give me another one I promise I’ll be so quiet” you said softly, your voice pleading and begging. He moaned, thrusting a bit harder 

“Can y’take it? Mm? Are y’sure Y’can take me again princess? Last time I knocked you up it took quite a few months a’you face down, ass up, full a’my cum. Nights at a time. Y’don’t remember how you’d whine about how sore you’d get while you were ovulating? Mmm? Fuck you so full y’get sore- fuckin y’four er five times a’day?” he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him with mushed cheeks. 

You whine pathetically, mumbling little ‘yes’ ‘mmhmm’ and ‘please’  you manage to get out an “I miss that so much Carmy” you whimper as he cages you in with his arms, his chain dangling in your face and brushing against your chin as his thrusts get sloppier. 

“Yeah? You miss bein full a’my cum? Y’miss wakin’ up in the mornin’ drippin’ w’me honey?” He mutters into your neck, feeling droplets of your sweat mixing together as your bodies rubbed with his incredibly deep thrusts, nearly laying over you. But Carmy was the most comfortable blanket you could ever ask for. 

“So much- so so much baby. Y’know Athena would be such a good sister- she needs a little friend mm? Y’gonna give your girl what she wants?” You scratch down his back as he pounds right into your g-spot, “oh I’m gonna cum” you whined, back arching and chest pressing flush to his. 

“Fuck - fuck- yes. Yes baby. Fuck m’gonna fuck you full I promise- fuck I’ll give you whatever you want baby I fuckin love you I love you” he moans into your neck, whimpering softly as he shoots hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking you through your fourth orgasm of the day, rubbing over your belly gently “gonna fuckin stretch this belly out again mm?” He growled hotly in your ear and you giggle, slapping his back playfully. 

“You're so funny talking about wanting to wait” you said and he huffs a laugh into your neck. 

“Yeah yeah. Legs up- Thena’s gonna be hungry soon so Y’can only prop up there f’r like half an hour” he said and helped you put the pillows against the headboard with your hips on them so you were at an angle and rest your legs up on it to let gravity do its thing.  It wasn’t surprising to you, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to another one so soon after a little convincing.

[ratsoh-writes]

Hey y’all! Meet grimmtale! My newest au!

Grimmtale, like most of the other AUs was underground before the crash, but unlike most AUs, the monsters were very happy to be there!

Hundreds of thousands of years ago, when drought dried up the surface leaving it uninhabitable, to save the underground lakes swamps and rivers, the monsters and witches of that world created a barrier protecting the underground from the heat above. Every entrance possible was sealed up and inside the earth developed a beautiful swamp like ecosystem where the people lived!

Over the years, monsters and humans alike developed and mutated to better fit their new home.

Humans, or the witches lost the color in their skin becoming a pale translucent blue-white color. Their hair thinned to the point where very few people grow any at all. And finally the witches of grimmtale have very poor eyesight, needing dark conditions to see at all, but have an amazing sense of hearing, touch and direction!

Every monster subspecies had changes too, each one unique to their respective subspecies. For example, goats have much thinner fur as well, and scaly hind legs as well as a snakelike tail. Slimes became extremely strong and are much larger than their counterparts with the ability to glow. And skeletons gained elongated forearms and prehensile tails as part of their mutations.

Monsters and the witches have lived in harmony for generations, with family covens ruling the roost underground. Humans from grimmtale have a longer lifespan due to generations of using magic. The typical witch from Grimmtale will have an average lifespan of 130 years, with the oldest (not soul bonded to a monster) living to 175. Half breeds and mages are very common as well making up a solid third of the AUs population.

The most lucrative business from the Grimms is potion making. These people will create concoctions that can have all kinds of temporary effects from painkillers, strengtheners, ones that change appearance, ones that have spell like effects, and even potions that can cause explosions!

After the crash, this au has been in charge of mapping the underground chambers of ebott. Around 3/4ths of waterfall in ebott contains the swampy terrain of the grimms old au, so the majority of their people decided to stay and settle underground. Many visit the surface though of course!

Between the 855 covens, they all voted and chose the Dreemur coven to appoint two representatives for the board of royals. After a month long series of trials, the twins, Gloom and Fog were chosen to take the vow with the rest of ebotts royals

Now meet the boys!

Thistle Wingdings: (Grimm sans)

Thistle is a stocky Grimm skeleton aged 58 and standing at 5’8 feet tall. He has a gim grey green magic and a very very deep voice with a gravely sound to it. By Grimm monster standards, he’s quite handsome but most surface skeletons would be nervous around him. He has a series of eyebrow piercings and one nose ridge stud

Thistle has a relaxed and calm personality. He loves to take life slowly, enjoying the little pleasures. He’s a huge cuddle bug, and affectionate with anyone who looks past his gruff face. Just a real sweetheart. If he isn’t smiling, he has a serious resting b*tch face. Despite his lazy attitude, he’s a very clean person and takes great pride in making his home pretty and nice smelling.

Thistle works with his parents growing various potion ingredients on their farm in waterfall. Most of the plants are pretty self sufficient leaving him and his family with a lot of free time. So to keep himself from getting too bored, he does a touch of mining on the side

Thistles magic weapon is a… pillow. Yes that’s right. It’s simply just a pillow conjured by magic. It’s very soft and comfy, and cooling! (And it can secretly cause cold damage if he wants it to)

Thistles secret ability is “early frost”. When he touches metal, stone and magic attacks, he can concentrate and freeze the objects through to shatter them, granted as long as they aren’t too big

Things he loves: cuddles, soft fluffy bedding, weirdly shaped rocks, toads and newts, the color navy blue, baked potatoes with tuna, herbal tea, Minecraft, making scented cleaning potions, pretty candles, echo flowers, goth music, human mythology

Yarrow Wingdings: (Grimm papyrus)

Yarrow is a crazy tall skeleton for grimmtale. He stands at 6’10, well above the average of 5’6. He is aged 49 and has a dull French grey magic. His voice is soft and low with a scratchy quality. He’s considered insanely handsome to other grimms but is a little creepy to surface skeletons.

Yarrow is a gentle giant. He moves carefully and with intention. He’s very meticulous about his actions, but doesn’t handle failure well when trying new things and can get frustrated easily. He has a keen sense of adventure and loves to explore. He’s a bit of a flirt and loves playful banter that doesn’t actually mean anything.

Yarrow works on his family’s potion ingredient farm. The plants are mostly self sufficient though leaving him and his family with a lot of free time. So to keep himself busy he also helps build passages underground for the miners.

Yarrows magic weapon is a grappling hook with four pointed ridges that clamp down when they hit anything! He has scary good aim with that thing!

His special ability is “frog hands”. Yarrow can stick to any surface and will scitter up walls and across ceilings as fast as if he was sprinting.

Things he loves: exploring new places, rock climbing, swimming, his pet toadstool bitty “warts”, the color blood red, classic horror movies, goth music, clams and mussels, herbal tea, Spider-Man, making strengthening potions, red roses.

Side characters

Gloom: Grimm Asgore, gloom is a grimm goat monster standing at 8’7. He has pitch black fur a deep red beard, white eyes and two small nub horns. He is a playful and gentle monster, but has a terrifying protective streak when pushed. He’s in charge of directing the mapping efforts of the underground and providing monthly updates of such. His twin sister and playful rival is Fog.

Fog: Grimm toriel, Fog is a Grimm goat monster standing at 8’7. She has a deep red fur, no beard and two large curled horns. Fog is a cheeky and mischievous monster. She has great skill in soothing tempers but is known to hold grudges herself lol. She is in charge of approving designs and locations for the underground highways and towns being built. Her twin brother and playful rival is Gloom.

Morticia Wingdings: formerly named Aster, she is the mother of thistle and yarrow. Morticia is a tall Grimm skeleton standing at 6’4 and has a dim grey magic. She’s considered bloody gorgeous by Grimm monster standards. A potion accident years ago left her with her neck permanently turned invisible giving her the appearance of a floating skull set atop her shoulders lol. Morticia is elegant and mischievous, loving a good laugh at some dark jokes. She loves her sons and is very grateful that they seem happy in ebott

Gomez Wingdings: the father of thistle and yarrow, Gomez is a large strong ogre mage with pitch black skin of ogre monsters, dull purple eyes, and no hair as is typical of the humans of his au. He is very happily soul bonded to Morticia. Gomez is a kind and goofy fellow who’s a total simp for his wife. He isn’t sure why his wife was so eager to take on the name Morticia after the crash, but he supports it. He loves his sons dearly.

Venom: Grimm muffet, venom is a small spider monster with a plum purple skin, thin black hair and adorable pale grey eyes. She’s aged 92 Venom is a close friend of thistle and yarrow and was their babysitter when she was younger. She is a popular potion maker specializing in potions aiming to help those with good hygiene. She buys most of her ingredients from the Wingding covens farm.

[grison-in-space]

I think one of the things that has me tilting my head about outcrosses that "make sense" is that a lot of the outcross projects happening in Scandinavia right now which I do very much respect are deliberately using crosses that are even more divergent than the DPP choices: Japanese Spitz and Danish Farm Dog with Cavaliers, for example. This is because if you are proposing to do relatively few outcrosses, you are often proposing to take outcross dogs and then select offspring heavily while backcrossing, and that means that a breed that is very distantly related can sometimes pack a lot more diversity into a single cross.

That being said, the Lundehund outcross programs have restricted themselves to breeds with a much higher level of shared history on a geographic and phylogenetic basis. Could be that outcrossing and backcrossing to, say, Malinois and other bitesport dogs with a degree of shared history would work equally well.

I think the lesson that I have absorbed from observing functional outcross projects is simply that outcrosses will not have success unless a critical mass of breed community supports the projects with dogs that everyone can agree are fine dogs. Contributing semen is one thing, but it's a pretty minimal contribution to making a project go. if outcrossing is the only way for the breed to survive, and at this point I think this is probably the case*, you need people who have proven to breed aficionados that they can succeed within the standards of the breed to be selecting, leasing, and promoting the dogs. My understanding is that this is currently not the case, which means that of course the existing projects will not be able to get a critical mass of support. And as with any project that contravenes existing cultural norms, the standards have to be even higher than projects that work within those norms for folks to succeed.

*(COI reduction only goes so far, and I'm not convinced that there's enough diversity in longevity to fix this problem without outcrosses, certainly over the long term. Without a source of increased diversity within the population, you can only lose diversity over time no matter how cleverly you cross. If saving the breed using breeding decisions to conserve existing diversity is the plan, breeders are going to have to reduce selection a lot in order to preserve potential diversity in rarer lines, and those lines... are often rarer for a reason. Personally, I think an outcrossing program is likely to result in dogs that are closer to what Doberman folks like, but that will mean tangling with a lot of dog person beliefs about what a pure breed even is. That might or might not be especially thorny for Doberman folks to cope with, depending on the perspectives of certain factions within the broader community; hard for me to tell that as an outsider, though.)

My general impression from you is that Doberman communities don't have a single critical mass of people who support anything, so that... might be a while. I also think that it's very unlikely that you're going to get a temperament consensus any time soon, since the very aggressive personal protection dog originally developed for the breed is not necessarily easy or safe for many people to keep and own. The trouble is that you can't maintain high levels of diversity without a large population size, and for dogs that large population size needs people to pay to look after and ideally promote the dogs... which means that you need to have homes in which to keep them. They have already come under extremely negative attention once for poor temperament selection and high bite risks, and the Doberman community had to select around bad and risky temperament hard through the eighties and nineties (if I have my history right) once already.

Philosophically speaking, the Doberman is in a pinch point between several dimensions of cultural change at once. It is harder to keep a very bitey, very reactive, high-powered personal protection dog given the legal and social expectations of a modern society, which creates demand for a softer version of the dog. The trick is that fixing this problem, genetically, calls for a large breeding population of dogs, and these dogs will need homes and places to live and people to keep them. So any outcross program (or, honestly, preservation program) will have to reckon with broadly popular demand to figure out how to keep the dogs. It may be that you will need a large population of "watered down" Dobermans in order to periodically outcross back to in order to maintain working temperament and physical health. It may be that people need to be encouraged to keep multiple breeding dogs. I suppose we will see what the community is and is not willing to do in order to preserve the breed, you know?

Is the high level of inbreeding in dobes more because "undesirable" traits are common so those dogs get weeded out (whether actual bad things or just not fitting the breed spec), a small number of breeders having the monopoly, or because they are all related anyway so there's no way of avoiding it without an outcross program? Is something like the Doberman Preservation ​Project a realistic future for the breed?

The doberman breed is in the current shape its in due to multiple genetic bottlenecks- some simple stupid breeding decisions and others due to active war zones and the consequences of wars- paired with people who are stubbornly refusing to even try to make it better because they have convinced themselves that what they're doing is right.

Fenris is my lowest COI dobe to date [23% iirc] and while not the lowest I've seen in the breed [19%], still a huge improvement over to 50-60% breed average. But people have argued again and again that lowering COI means making breeding decisions that produce inferior dogs, and so many refuse to even consider it as a possibility.

(For non-dog people, COI is coefficient of inbreeding, and it is a look at the numbers behind how inbred a population is. You want as low of a number as possible. 25% is equal to immediate siblings. Ideally we'd want single digit numbers, with anything over 10% being a major problem to fix. To compare, my chihuahuas are something like 6% (Fae) and 0.02% (Tater). Sushi is a direct line breeding aunt-to-nephew so she's up in the 40s.)

(It doesn't necessarily mean a dog is immune to genetic predisposition to bad health, as evidenced by Tater's CM diagnosis, however it does seem to correlate directly with longevity and likelihood of developing these problems, meaning Tater unfortunately just lost the genetic lottery)

In other words, it is certainly possible to reduce the COI of the breed by HALF with smart breeding decisions, and people are plugging their ears going LA LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU because it means actually going out and looking past the popular sires and taking a chance on a dog that might not be your exact type but will still improve the next generation. This is not just a show line problem because I spend the majority of my time with working line dobes and working dobe people and this is an incredibly annoying problem there too. Fenris himself has popular sires in his pedigree, both the show half and the working half, so it is demonstratably very difficult to avoid.

I do think a well executed outcross project is needed, however... the problem I have is that the current proposed projects all suck. There's not a lot of direction outside of throwing things into the pot and seeing what sticks, and a lot of the resulting dogs quite frankly aren't what doberman people would be looking for anyway. Farm collies? Bulldogs? Bullies? Carolina dogs? Border collies? Pyrs? Why??? None of these are going to make a dog that has the temperament that draws people to this breed.

There are. A bunch of breeders who are waiting for an outcross project that actually makes sense. They've even posted in various outcrops groups that they would support a project if it had certain specifications. Many have said, get yourself a nice female and title her out in a bite sport and do all the doberman health testing even if she's not a doberman and we'd be interested in contributing semen. The response almost invariably has been "but I don't want a protective dog". Then what are you doing in a DOBERMAN project??? So of course the chief complaint is that most of these projects are not looking to make dobermans, they're looking to make their own breed and just have a doberman paint job. Well, sorry, but most involved doberman people want a DOBERMAN, not just a dog that looks like one. This is the only AKC recognized breed with the sole function of personal protection. They are protective dogs. Either accept that, or get interested in a different breed.

I have heard increasingly concerning things regarding the temperament of the doberman diversity project dogs, which does not surprise me unfortunately as none of these dogs are in any way sourced from dogs with verifiable correct temperament. What do you get when you cross a Craigslist Corso with a Craigslist doberman? Well the first generation might be okay for people who want pets but apparently the ones that have worked in protection are awful at it. Same with the malinois crosses- of course, you took a lukewarm malinois and bred it to a z-list doberman and you're surprised that you got a bunch of lukewarm at best pet dogs.

I think the only project I solidly am somewhat interested in is the bandog cross, and that cross works just fine but then of course it does because in that country, bandogs are exclusively military, police, and security dogs, and she bred it to a igp3 doberman. Unfortunately the doberman died before his 10th birthday, so now we're all waiting to see what happens with his progeny.

[candyflosstoxicity]

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

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

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

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

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

[makoodlesarchive]

bad dragon

here i am delivering content that NO ONE ASKED FOR !! this is nasty and i got super embarrassed just writing it but i hope you enjoy it anyway

honestly no one look at me, just let me indulge in this in peace

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: blowjobs, penetrative sex, virgin kirishima, lots of cum (like, a ridiculous amount), breeding (kinda), size kink?. it’s not exactly anthro bc everyone is human here but uhh non-standard genitals, i guess? kirishima has an unusual dick: pls see here for reference      OR     check out the amazing fanart for kiri’s dick !!

Tip Jar!

  dragon dick kiri masterlist!

                            »»————-　♡　————-««

Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated.

The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

Whenever the two of you ended up in bed together, with the door firmly locked behind you, Kirishima insisted on sliding under the blankets and eating you out so enthusiastically he had your legs shaking in no time. It’s not like you would ever complain about that, but it definitely bothered you that he was never up for doing anything else. You would see the blanket shifting around as he jerked himself off furiously under the sheets as he tongue-fucked you, but whenever you tried to coax him out from beneath the sheets you were turned down with a soft, apologetic little smile.

You figured it must have something to do with his apparent commitment issues. Everytime you brought up the possibility of being a couple, or anything more than what you currently were (which, tragically, was nothing; just two friends occasionally getting hot and heavy) he brushed you off or changed the subject with a beautifully sunny smile and a laugh, so bright and cheery that you were successfully diverted every single time.

And it was fine, really. You liked Kirishima a lot, so you were totally willing to put up with a few odd idiosyncrasies. And okay, sure, if you were being totally honest with yourself, of course you wanted to be more than friends that flirt and kiss and mess around a bit. You couldn’t even technically call each other fuck buddies because he wouldn’t fuck you. But he was so sweet, and so handsome and kind and his tongue was so so good, that you would take whatever you could get from him. 

At least, that was until one afternoon.

April had brought with it blue skies and sun showers and warm breezes, and as the weather begins to improve your friends take to lounging out the front of the apartment complex. After graduating, renting places in the same neighbourhood just seemed like the next logical step. On days like this, where you all come together just to chill out in front of the complex, it seems like the best idea in the world. As you watch Kirishima chase Kaminari around the lawn, the two of them howling with laughter, something a little wistful twists in your stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, easy enough to shove away normally, but today for some reason you just feel… melancholy.

Maybe that’s why you do something you would never normally do. You turn to Bakugou, who’s aggressively chewing on candy as though it insulted his mother, and say, “Hey, um. Does Kirishima… does Kirishima ever talk about me?”

Bakugou’s jaw stills, and he turns his head very slowly to look at you. He looks mildly disbelieving, which is understandable. The two of you get along just fine, but you’ve never asked him anything personal before. “Why the fuck are you asking me that?” he demands through a mouthful of half-chewed toffee.

You shrug jerkily, suddenly mortified. Why are you asking something like that of Bakugou, of all people? “Never mind.” you say quickly, praying that he’ll just let it go and you can both move on and forget that you had ever asked such an embarrassing question.

A silence stretches between the two of you, long and taut, broken only by Mina giggling as she shows Sero something on her phone a few metres away. You could curse yourself for making things awkward between the two of you when you had been on relatively good terms, but then Bakugou turns to look at you so abruptly that you startle a little. “Look,” he says, jaw working absently as he chews his candy. “He likes you just fine, okay. Why aren’t you having this conversation with him, huh?”

You can’t quite meet Bakugou’s eyes. You don’t know how he can be so forthright all the time. “Um. I’ve tried, but he always changes the subject.”

Bakugou swears softly, glaring out across the lawn at Kirishima as he chases Kaminari, throwing grapes at his back. “I ain’t a relationship counsellor, okay? I get that it must be hard that he doesn’t cum when he’s with you or whatever, but you seriously need to work that out with him. What am I meant to do about it?”

“Right,” you wince, your body hot with embarrassment. Your mind sticks on something he just said though, and you turn back slowly to frown at him. “He… he doesn’t cum?”

“Hah?” Bakugou scowls at you, clearly annoyed that you’re still having this conversation. You’re not about to let up though, because you hadn’t known that.

“I-I didn’t realise that he didn’t-?” you trail off, mortified and horrified in equal measures. You had assumed all those times that he was jerking off under the sheets that he was getting himself off but just didn’t want you to see. You had never questioned the lack of mess because as soon as you were done he always left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with damp towels to clean you up with -- you had assumed he cleaned himself up in those moments of absence. How the fuck had you never noticed?  Why did Bakugou know when you didn’t? Oh god, had he and Kirishima talked about this?

Bakugou’s expression shifts as he apparently realises that he had just revealed something you hadn’t been aware of. “Oh.” he says, and his annoyance seems to have evaporated, only to be replaced by an intense discomfort. “Well. It’s not that big a deal, or whatever. I’m sure he still, uh, enjoys himself- fucking hell, can we stop talking about this?”

“Yeah.” you say a little numbly. You feel so stupid. Why had he never said anything to you? You had been under the assumption that he liked you back, but maybe you were totally mistaken. Maybe seeing your naked body turned him off to the point that he couldn’t actually cum even if hidden under the sheets and not looking at you. Maybe he never actually wanted to do any of that with you in the first place. There’s a stinging pressure building in the back of your eyes, and you have to look down at your lap and blink hard to stop yourself from doing something stupid like bursting into tears in front of Bakgou -- you don’t think either of you would live that down. “Uh. I think I’m gonna head up to my room, I’m really tired.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened a little, “Wait, are you-”

“I’ll see you later,” you smile and try to keep your voice as normal as possible, but even you can hear how forced you sound. You stand quickly and brush yourself off before heading back inside; you have to consciously slow your pace so that it doesn’t look like you’re running away, because you really don’t put it past Bakugou not to chase you down for cutting him off like that.

You bump into Jirou on the stairs and babble out an apology, escaping back upstairs to your apartment before she can ask you if you’re okay. The last thing you need is an audience for your imminent breakdown, but thankfully you don’t see a single other person on the way to your place. You shut the door to your room tight and lean your forehead against it to take a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm you down, so you turn and make a beeline straight for the bed. Throwing yourself dramatically on top of your bed covers feels a little cathartic, so you allow yourself the luxury of being dramatic as you bury your face into your arms and sigh. 

God, you wish Kirishima would have just talked to you instead of grinning that stupidly bright smile of his and changing the subject anytime you tried to talk or ask about the thing the two of you had together. At least then you would have been able to deal with any upset that may have been caused by that conversation by yourself, and you wouldn’t have had to get all upset in front of one of Kirishima’s best friends. God, how were you ever gonna look at Bakugou again?

You know that stewing by yourself like this isn’t going to help sort this situation out, but you just can’t find the energy to start thinking about what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to start thinking about that at all. You just need some time to yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe and just not think because if you start thinking you’re pretty sure you’re going to cry. You feel impossibly stupid.

When you hear a knock coming from the door, you want to bang your head off the wall. You can’t imagine anything worse than having to talk to someone and pretend that everything is fine right now.

“Y/N? Hey, is everything alright? Bakugou said you ran off.”

Aw, shit. Maybe you can imagine something worse.

You sit up sharply, staring at the door. This was so typical. Of all the people in the building, Kirishima is the last person you want to talk to right now. So of course it stands to reason that he would be the one to follow you straight to your apartment. “Everything’s fine,” you call back quickly, trying hard to sound like you meant it, “Hey, I’m just tired right now. Can we talk later?”

“Bakugou said you were upset.”

That traitor. You clench your jaw and scowl at the wall. “I’m-”

“I’m coming in, okay?”

“Wha-?” you stand up quickly, but Kirishima is already coming in and closing the door behind him. “Kirishima, I don’t-”

“Okay look, Bakugou said you were upset with me and I’m really, really sorry,” Kirishima blurts quickly, hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint, “He’s actually pretty annoyed at me right now, but he’s right, and-”

“I’m not-” you start, then pause to gather your thoughts. Bakugou was right, especially when he said you had to talk. And it was important this time that you didn’t let Kirishima divert you like he had been doing. “It’s not that I’m upset with you. Not really. I just- what are we even doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.

“I-” you swallow hard, brace yourself, “I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I’ve told you, or at least tried to, that I’d really like to, well, be- um, be more than whatever this is. And obviously I would totally get if you don’t want that, a relationship and stuff, but I want you to just tell me! Just say it, instead of changing the subject.”

“Wait, baby, please.” Kirishima steps forward quickly and stops just short of touching you, a bare few inches between you. “I like you so much, I never wanted you to feel this way. I just- it’s difficult to explain-”

“Do you...” you start to say, then sigh. You can’t believe you’re actually going to ask this, because it makes you sound so desperate, but you really need to hear him say it, “Do you not find me attractive?”

Kirishima makes a startled choking sound, “Wha-? Are you kidding? I find you so attractive! You’re so pretty, and your body is- is really nice, why would you think-”

“You never look at me when we’re in bed and-” you start fidgeting, horribly awkward. “I just want to be able to touch you.”

Kirishima steps forward, closing the distance between you and dropping to one knee. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumbs stroke circles into your skin. “You want me to touch you?”

“No.” you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, realising that he had misunderstood. “I mean. Bakugou told me that you never cum when we’re together.”

When you open your eyes again, you see that Kirishima has gone stock still. His mouth is a little open, and you can see his throat working as he seems to fight for something to say. Very slowly, he gets back to his feet. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

You stare at him, at a loss. “Is it because-” you start, then trail off as you realise that you don’t even know what you’re trying to ask. You just want him to start talking so that you can stop asking all these stupid questions. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you only have to say so, I would never pressure you into-”

“No!” Kirishima blurts, jolting forward. The suddenness of the movement seems to startle the both of you, but Kirishima recovers faster. “God, no, that’s not what this is!”

“Then, why?” you whisper, thoroughly confused. You had hoped that talking it out would help get some answers, but if anything you’re even more confused and insecure than you had been before he came to your room. “Did I- I mean, if I’m doing something that’s-”

“It’s not you.” Kirishima interrupts, covering his eyes with one of his large palms and leaning away from you. His hand is trembling a little, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

The statement hangs in the air between the two of you like it’s a tangible presence. You stare hard at Kirishima, but he doesn’t remove his hand from his face. He looks a bit like he’s going to be sick. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

You’re guessing that this is where you get the ‘You’re great and all but I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with you though, I need to work through my own stuff’ sort of speech, and you have to brace yourself for it. Instead, Kirishima says something that you had not prepared yourself to hear in the slightest.

“I’m sorry.” you say, a little bewildered. You’re certain that you heard that wrong. “Could you- could you say that again?”

A flush has begun to crawl steadily across Kirishima’s face, made all the more prominent by the contrast of his hand pressed to his eyes. His ears are so red that they blend right into his hair. “I said,” he says, then takes an inhale, “That you’ll break up with me if you see my dick.”

You don’t actually know how to begin replying to that. For one, breaking up would require you to be in a relationship, which is something that he has been avoiding for a while now. You decide to address the bigger problem first. “Why would I want to break up because of your dick? Why would you even think that? Do you think I’m that shallow?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you being shallow,” Kirishima says slowly. You get the impression that he’s measuring his words, and his uncharacteristic reticence has you on edge. “It’s just that- I’m not, well, normal.”

You stare at him, a little taken aback. Kirishima had always had some issues with self-confidence, ever since middle school, but you’d always thought he’d worked through that in UA. You had never heard him talk about himself like this. “What’s that supposed to mean? Eijirou, lots of people are self-conscious about what they have going on downstairs. It doesn’t mean-”

“No, you don’t get it,” he interrupts. His hands have started twisting up the hem of his shirt, wringing it out and wrinkling the material. He’s frowning, and clearly starting to get agitated. “It’s not that I’m self-conscious about it- well, I am self-conscious about it, I guess, but it’s for a reason! I mean it, it’s not exactly… standard.”

Your face scrunches up in a frown before you can stop it. Not standard? “You’re worried it’s too small?” You guess. Your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, where he’s subconsciously folded his hands. “Too big?”

“Um.” Kirishima lets out a nervous little laugh, several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. It’s… it looks weird.”

“Eijirou,” your voice is soft now, most of your frustration melted away by the sight of Kirishima’s anxious fidgeting, “We live in a world where physical mutations are the norm; you really don’t have anything to worry about.” You pause for a moment, but Kirishima doesn’t respond immediately. The silence builds, until you try to break it with a light-hearted, “How weird can it be, really?”

Kirishima’s throat works as he swallows hard, but he’s nodding so you at least know that he’s listening. When he does speak, his voice is so low that you have to lean closer to him to catch what he’s saying. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Your heart twists, and the last of your frustration straight up disappears. You take a breath to steady yourself, then step forward and place your hands gently on his chest. A tremor works its way up his spine at your touch, but you don’t remark on it. “Kirishima.” you say firmly, and when he looks up and makes eye contact you try to keep your gaze as strict as possible. “You really have no idea how much I like you, do you? God, I like you so much, it’s stupid. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. I mean, even if you never wanted to have sex I would understand, so long as you talked to me about it. Your dick is not gonna stop me from liking you, idiot.”

The fear of rejection is still plain to see on Kirishima’s face, but there’s something lurking just underneath that looks like hope. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone like that.”

“You haven’t?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Not only is Kirishima perfectly sweet, he’s also extremely attractive. As an up-and-coming sidekick in Fatgum’s hero agency, you knew that he had no shortage of admirers. Even before that, in UA, you knew there were always people who had their eyes on him. He was so bright, he was hard to miss. 

He laughs, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. I mean, I’ve done oral and stuff, and I think I’m actually pretty good at it-”

“You are definitely pretty good at it,” you chime in, nodding and trying not to laugh at the flush crawling up his neck.

“I enjoy it, too!” he says quickly, as though trying to reassure you, “I enjoy it a lot. But I’ve never- I mean, no one’s ever touched me like that.” You feel your mouth drop open in honest shock. A little part of you couldn’t help but feel reassured that it wasn’t you he had a problem with, but that was mostly drowned out by surprise. Kirishima rushes on before you can speak, as though trying to say his piece before he runs out of steam, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that it’s never seemed worth the fallout. Especially with you. I’m happy with being with you in whatever way I can, and I don’t want my stupid dick to scare you off or-”

“Oh my god, Kirishima, stop,” you say, and this time you really can’t hold back your laugh. “Your stupid dick isn’t going to scare me off. God, I can’t believe this is why you never let me touch you.” you step closer and press a soft, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. You hadn’t realised just how tense Kirishima was until he relaxed a little into your touch, the stiffness in his shoulders easing out as he sighed into the kiss. You pull back just a little, just enough that you can give him a cheeky smile. “Want me to give you your first blowjob?”

Kirishima’s whole body tenses right back up as his eyes shoot wide in surprise. “What?” he squeaks out, his ears turning scarlet.

You take his hand in yours and tangle your fingers together, before tugging him gently towards the bed. “I want to,” you assure him quietly, “No matter what your dick looks like, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Kirishima says as he sits at the edge of the bed. He’s breathing a little faster now, either from excitement or nerves. You’re guessing it’s a bit of both, because he’s clinging on tight to your hand even though he looks like he’s about to bolt. When you hook your fingers around the waistband of his shorts, he catches one of your wrists with his free hand. “If you- you know, if you change your mind after seeing it, just know that I won’t be mad or anything.”

He’s so quiet and earnest that you feel your heart melt a little looking at his nervously hopeful eyes. You take your hand back and climb onto his lap, pushing your fingers into his wild mop of hair. It’s the first time you’ve ever been close with him like this -- usually he would give you a sweet, gentle kiss and then dive between your legs, always keeping a frustrating amount of distance between your lower halves. This time though, he doesn’t try to divert you away. His hands grip your hips tight, and he leans his head into your touch. “I wish you would stop expecting me to push you away.” you murmur into the side of his neck, peppering little kisses into his skin. Kirishima lets out the smallest, choked off sounding whine at that, and tilts his head so that the long line of his throat is exposed. You take the hint, and start trailing kisses all along the soft skin at the base of his neck. “I told you, and I meant it; I want to be with you.”

Strong arms wind their way around your back and pull you close until you’re sat right over Kirishima’s crotch. You don’t even think it was intentional on Kirishima’s part, but you won’t pass up the opportunity when it presents itself to you. His shorts are bulging a little right in the centre where he’s starting to get hard, and you lower yourself down so that you’re grinding over him. He gasps at the contact, and his hips jerk up into you. “Oh, shit. I want you, so badly.” he gasps, his forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder.

You have to admit, what you can feel through his shorts is… intimidating. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he had said when you asked him if he was worried about his dick being too big. Judging by what you could feel pressing against you, that was a massive understatement, and he was only half-hard. You ghost your hands down over his sides, feeling his ribs expand with his breaths, sliding down until your hands reach the waistband of his shorts again. You push them down over his hips, and he lifts himself up to help you, and then he’s just in his impressively tented jockstrap. You smile reassuringly at him as you tug down the jockstrap, and then his cock springs free of the waistband and you pause.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“I know that it’s-” Kirishima begins to visibly panic, his hand reflexively shooting down to try and cover himself as he tries to sit up.

“It’s okay.” you say quickly, recovering from your surprise as quickly as possible. You still feel a little off-kilter as you slide off his lap to your knees in front of him. You know that you’re staring at his cock wide-eyed, but you can’t quite help yourself. It’s… well. It’s definitely not standard.

You reach out, your hand hovering uncertainly over his cock because you barely know how to begin. It’s thicker than a soda can, and long. Delicate ridges and swirls decorate the underside, with a series of bumps along the top. When you finally do grasp him in your hand, you’re rewarded with a barely stifled gasp and a hot spurt of precum that dribbles down his cockhead to your fingers. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those strange ridges. The bumps along the top are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Kirishima gasps and his hips thrust gracelessly into the air.

“Sorry!” he blurts as his cock dribbles even more precum. There’s so much of it that it looks like you actually used lube or something to slick up his cock, but you guess that this must be normal for him because he just looks embarrassed. “I- it’s sensitive, I guess, um- I usually put down a towel, because I tend to get, uh, messy.”

The way he says that and the connotations of it has your thighs squeezing together, and you take a deep inhale through your nose. It’s unexpectedly hot. “Gotcha.” you smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you return your attention back to his dick. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind if you make a mess.”

“Oh, shit. Uh, okay.” Kirishima says, and his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier now. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”

The precum is oozing almost continuously now, spilling over with nearly every stroke, and your rubbing at the swollen base seems to be pushing even more out. It’s obscene, the copious amount of it and the way it’s stringing down onto your hands. If this is the amount of precum he produces, you can hardly imagine the amount of cum he’s going to produce. You wonder if ‘messy’ is another understatement.

You finally lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up the underside of his cock, lapping at the ridges and swirls. The moan that’s ripped out of him is needy and so desperate -- his stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he’s putting in to keep from rocking into your mouth, but his cheeks are flushed and his own mouth is lolling open, his eyes squeezed shut. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, suckling at the tip before swallowing him down. You get about halfway before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.

“Oh god, oh baby, oh Y/N,” Kirishima is babbling nonsensically, his head thrown as his hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake. “Feels so good.”

You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, tracing the swirls and squeezing the bottom. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Kirishima’s whole cock twitches.

When he gasps out your name you pull back and look up at him. He’s trembling, his shirt rucked up past his bellybutton and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on you. “You okay?” you ask softly, rubbing your thumb along one of the ridges under the head of his dick.

“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and you realise that a string of saliva and precum is dripping down your chin. “But if you keep going I’m gonna cum.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” you laugh, and press a kiss right on his slit. His hips twitch and you dodge backwards just in time to avoid him taking your eye out with his hard on. 

“Sorry!” he looks mortified, and you can’t help but find his nervous fumbling absolutely adorable.

“Don’t worry about it.” you smile as you kiss your way down his shaft, prepared now for the intermittent jerking of his hips. You get to that swollen part at the base and place your mouth right at the bottom of his cock, before wrapping your lips around it to the best of your ability and sucking.

You had guessed that this swollen area was sensitive thanks to his reactions earlier, but you’re not quite prepared for the shout he lets out or the way his hand grabs onto the side of your head as he damn near rides your mouth. You’re totally startled by the reaction, but given the amount of times that you’ve done the same to his mouth you’re only too happy to indulge him. Plus, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen Kirishima fall apart like this. His cock is dribbling precum at a rapid rate the more excited he gets, and thick strings of it are pouring onto your cheeks. You think you should probably feel a little grossed out, but seeing Kirishima open-mouthed and panting as he rides your face like he’s hasn’t got a single other thought in his mind has you so turned on that your panties are getting sticky and uncomfortable between your legs. You stick your own hand between your legs to try and relieve yourself of some of the heat coiling up in your stomach, but the way that Kirishima’s rutting into your face throws off your coordination.

“Oh god, please, baby, please, put it back in your mouth, I’m gonna- fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, please-” He begs, his head thrown back as he gasps.

How could you ever deny him when he pleads like that? You pull your head out of his grasp and sink your mouth back down on his cock, and then you just hold there and breathe as steadily as you can as Kirishima’s cock throbs in your mouth. His hips spasm, pushing his cock further into your throat. It almost feels like he’s getting bigger, as if he’s growing down your throat.

Kirishima is still babbling, a steady stream of senselessness about how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, until he cuts himself off with a gasp of “Baby, I’m- I’m-” and then he’s silent, his mouth hanging open as his whole body strains.

You try to suck him through his orgasm, but you are utterly unprepared for the sheer quantity of cum that erupts from his dick. Despite your intentions, you have no choice but to pull off his cock, choking a little on the cum that actually managed to get up your nose. You stroke him through it, feeling dazed as you watch him cum. You know it’s dripping from your chin, running in rivulets down your face. You wonder if it’s coming out your nose.

Kirishima seems to come forever, humping into your fist and whining and moaning the whole time. When his cock finally gives its last, exhausted spurt, his body falls limp against the bed. He’s gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, looking like his soul had been ejected from his body along with the insane amount of cum. You notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.

You climb up on the bed beside him and nudge him with your knee, a little concerned. “Eijirou? You good?”

When he looks at you, there’s a goofy smile splitting his face. “I have never been so good in my whole life.” His smile freezes as he catches a proper look at your face, caught between surprise, embarrassment, and something else. He reaches out to your face and swipes his fingers through the mess on your face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be!” you hasten to assure him, squeezing his wrists. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Kirishima stares at you as though he almost doesn’t believe you, but his cum is painted across your face and dripping down your chest, so he’s not in the best position to argue. “I told you I tend to get messy.” he breathes out a laugh, and then leans forward to kiss you, apparently not caring about the taste of his own ejaculate.

You hum into his mouth, your thighs clenching in excitement. “Eijirou,” you whisper into the kiss. When he pulls back, you bite your lip and smile at him, “Next time, will you fuck me?”

Kirishima inhales sharply, and his grip on your hips tightens to the point that the pressure is near bruising. “You really want that?”

“God, yes.” you blurt, shifting so that you’re straddling his stomach. You lower yourself down so that you’re grinding against his bare skin, and you can see the exact moment that he realises you’ve soaked through your panties.

He groans, and pulls at your hips to encourage you to grind against his stomach harder. “Shit, sweetheart. You don’t think it’s… kind of gross?”

“I didn’t expect the amount of cum,” you confess, wiping at your face with a helpless laugh, “But no, I don’t think it’s gross. I like it.” You whimper as Kirishima’s thumb slides over your swollen clit, the glide made smooth thanks to the slickness of your own arousal.

Kirishima is looking up at you as though you had hung the moon, and it’s hard not to get a little embarrassed under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay,” he whispers, “If you’re sure.” He glances down with a small frown, his lips twisted thoughtfully, “I don’t want to hurt you, though.”

“You won’t.” you kiss his nose, grinning as it wrinkles up under your lips. “We’ll make sure I’m stretched.” you glance over your shoulder at his still wet, softening cock. Even now, the size of it is intimidating. “And lube,” you conclude, “We’ll use lots and lots of lube.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, a smile starting to light up his face. He presses a sloppy kiss to the base of your throat, and you can feel the smile against your skin, “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.” There’s still cum everywhere, all over your hands and chest and face and splashed across Kirishima’s legs and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care about the mess in the slightest as he rolls the two of you over so that he’s hovering over you. The kiss he presses to one of your breasts is impossibly soft, and you tilt your head back and sigh as you feel his fingers trace over the lips of your pussy. “I’m so lucky to have you.” he whispers, then pushes himself down your body.

As his tongue flicks over your clit, you smile. It’s definitely you that’s the lucky one here.

_________________________

Kirishima’s complicated relationship with his genitalia had started in middle school. Up until that point, he had managed to remain blissfully unaware that there was any kind of abnormality in his nether regions. That changed one day in the locker rooms.

Having never paid any particular attention to what he had in his pants, Kirishima hadn’t thought anything of changing out with the rest of the boys in his class, as unabashed as any middle-schooler that hadn’t developed a sense of self-consciousness yet. He didn’t notice the whispers or stares until one of his friends nudged him hard. “Dude,” he said, glancing between Kirishima’s legs and then away, curiosity and mild revulsion mingled on his face, “What’s wrong with your thingy?”

“Wrong?” Kirishima had echoed, discomfort beginning to prickle beneath his skin. He hadn’t realised there was anything wrong with his genitals. He covered up quickly and finished getting changed, but the stares lingered.

No one said anything more about it to him, but by the end of the day rumour had spread that Kirishima was weird down there.

He had, like so many boys his age, taken to the internet to do his own research. It felt like a punch to the gut when he realised that his classmates were right -- his dick looked nothing like the dicks that all the guys in the videos he found had. There were exceptions, where the person’s genitals were affected by their quirk, but they were always full-body quirks that made it pretty obvious that what you were gonna find down below would be non-standard. His genitals didn’t match his body or his quirk, so his classmates must be right when they say that he’s weird with those grossed-out little laughs.

He learned pretty quickly to keep that part of him to himself, to change out quickly and efficiently in such a way that no one would ever see the parts of him that he’d rather keep hidden. He welcomes physical contact because he’s still an affectionate guy, but he’s always careful about the distance he allows between himself and others just in case they brush up against him accidentally and somehow feel that he’s different. When the boys in his class start excitedly talking about girls and other boys, and how nice it’d be to have a girlfriend or boyfriend, Kirishima tries to stay out of it. He doesn’t want to wonder about something like that when he knows that if someone were to find out his secret they’d be totally grossed out.

High school comes hand in hand with experimentation though, and Kirishima is lonely and touch-starved. He doesn’t want to avoid touch for the rest of his life out of fear that someone’s going to know. So he allows himself to indulge a little; he’s popular with girls in UA, a fact that surprises him. Unlike the girls in middle school, they haven’t heard the rumours that there’s something wrong with him, so they smile and chat to him and even flirt. It’s exciting and new and he allows himself to have just this -- he kisses them and he makes them feel good, and then he retreats when they look for more because he just can’t give it to them. 

When he tells you all this, you could swear that you feel your heart crack right down the middle. You hadn’t realised how lonely Kirishima was, wrapped up in a self-constructed blanket of self-loathing and disgust. You knew it had taken a lot of trust for him to open up to you like he had, but you hadn’t realised just how much. It makes your chest fill with some undefinable emotion, and you just want to hold him and never let go. 

You’re more determined than ever now to show him exactly how much you care about him, and exactly how much any physical anomaly doesn’t affect the way you feel in the slightest. You’ve been stretching yourself methodically and carefully every night of the week that has passed since you gave him his first blowjob in preparation to finally have sex with him. You just want him to feel good, and you don’t want him to worry about hurting you. And now, tonight, you’ve decided that you’re ready for it.

Bakugou’s the one that answers the door when you knock at their shared apartment, and his face does something funny when he sees you. He lets you in without a greeting, and yells for Kirishima as you shut the door behind you. It’s definitely a little awkward, because your last proper conversation was that day when he told you that your now boyfriend didn’t get off when you were together, but you smile and ask him how he’s doing all the same.

He just grunts at you and sprawls out on the couch, his attention fixed on his phone. You don’t try to make any further conversation, because you figure he probably won’t respond and you can hear Kirishima crashing around further down the hall anyway. You’re about to slip down the hall towards Kirishima’s room when Bakugou speaks again, surprising you. “You talked.”

You pause, confused for half a moment before the memories of your last conversation come flooding back. “Oh. Uh, yeah, we did.” 

Bakugou nods, still staring at his phone. You hover uncertainly, unsure of whether you should continue to Kirishima’s room or if Bakugou had something else he wanted to say. You don’t have to wait long; Bakugou puts his phone down and turns to survey you closely. “If you’re still here, then I guess you didn’t freak out.”

“There’s nothing to freak out over.” you say defensively, thinking of how sensitive Kirishima is about his body.

“I never said there was!” Bakugou snaps back instantly. You both glare at each other, but you don’t respond further. You came here for one reason, and that reason was not to start a fight with Bakugou when your boyfriend was waiting for you in the bedroom. When Bakugou speaks again, it’s with an awkward edge to his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t be an asshole to him.”

You realise that Bakugou is just trying to look out for his friend, and the revelation that you’re receiving Bakugou’s awkward attempt at a shovel talk is enough to have you reeling. “As if I would be,” you say, “I really like him.”

“Good. Fine.” Bakugou picks his phone back up and you take that as a dismissal. You’re just about to leave when he says, “By the way, keep it the fuck down. I don’t care if you’re taking dragon dick or if it’s Shitty Hair’s first time getting his dick wet, I don’t need to hear that nasty shit.”

His crudeness has you flushing hot with embarrassment, but you don’t dignify him with a response. You slip down the hall and up to Kirishima’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door before letting yourself in.

Kirishima is in the process of trying to stuff a pile of clothes into the bottom of his wardrobe, and he slams the door shut and whirls around when he hears you come in. “Hey!” he beams at you, trying to kick aside the pair of underwear that’s stuck in the edge of the wardrobe door.

“Hey, you.” you greet him. You’re still a bit flustered from Bakugou’s comment, but you hide it as best as you can as Kirishima sweeps you up in his arms and pulls you into a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

In the week since you blew him the first time, the two of you have alternated between your apartments and spent almost every single day together. Some days you just touched each other with your hands, other days you used your mouths on each other. You still hadn’t gotten fully used to his enormous loads of cum, but he seems at least to be getting more and more comfortable with your touch. Even now, his hands trail up your sides as he presses eagerly into you; this boldness would have been unheard of coming from him only a week ago, but neither of you are under any illusions about what the two of you are going to get up to this evening.

You wind your arms around his neck and melt into the kiss, relishing the contact and the wet slide of his lips against yours. As his hands trail from your hips to your lower back to your ass, you feel the hard press of his lower abdomen nudge against you. You pull back and grin at him, “Someone’s impatient.”

Kirishima flushes, but he doesn’t pull away or deny it. Progress. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” he confesses quietly, reaching up to nudge a flyaway tuft of hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah?” you grin, delighting in his openness. You take a small step back and look down at where his bulge is tenting the front of his sweatpants. “How long have you been like this, baby?”

“Pretty much since you texted me telling me you were thinking of coming over.” he says with a cheeky little smile, nudging his face into your neck and nipping at the skin there. “So, an hour and a half? Give or take.”

You hum as you cup his hardness through the cotton of his joggers. He groans and his hips jerk into your palm, as sensitive as ever. “Hey,” you murmur, “Wanna fuck me?”

Kirishima’s whole body twitches at that, and you swear you can feel his cock jump in his hand. “Now?” he asks, his voice gone a little hoarse from surprise and arousal.

“Unless you’d like to wait?”

“No! Now is good!” Kirishima says hastily, reaching out to hold your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “God, now is so good.”

It’s really hard to hold back your laugh as you watch him scramble towards the bed, tugging you along with him. He’s excited, that much is obvious, and you really can’t blame him -- he’s gone so long thinking that he would never get to have this, that he would never be accepted like this. You want to give him everything.

His hands start fidgeting with the sheets as soon as he sits back on the bed. You straddle his lap and take his hands in yours before leaning in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from any nerves or self-doubts before they can take a hold of him. He hums happily into your mouth, squeezing one of your hands in his and using the other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

“I’ve thought about sex with you so many times,” you admit when you pull away from the kiss. You reach up and stroke a line down the bridge of his nose, then push back a lock of his hair; it’s freshly washed and ungelled, lying fluffy and loose around his face. He’s looking up at you like you just hung the moon, open-mouthed and soft-eyed. It’s such a sweet look on him, and you love watching it contort into pleasure as you sink down to rub yourself against his hard on. “I want you to feel good.”

Kirishima makes a choked off whining sound in his throat as he grinds up into you. “You always make me feel good.” he says. You can feel his cock thickening and filling out against you, and judging by how clearly you can feel him, he’s foregone the usual jockstrap or protective cup he uses to try and hide his shape in his pants. 

You reach down and pull at his sweatpants -- you manage to get one leg off entirely, but the other gets stuck halfway down his left thigh and you’re too impatient to keep pulling at it so you just abandon it in favour of reaching for Kirishima’s now exposed cock. You’ve gotten familiar with the thick ridges and bumps of it over the past week, familiar enough for your fingers to seek out his sensitive spots without even looking.

He moans as you touch him, and dips his hands into your pants so that he can squeeze at your ass. His grip is a little too hard, bordering on painful as he bites at your neck. He pops open the button on your pants and shoves one of his hands into your panties, rubbing at your clit with his thumb and trailing his other fingers along your slit. 

You rub at the bumps along the tip of his cock, and you’re rewarded with a little squirt of precum. It dribbles down your hand and onto the sheets, and you wonder if maybe you should put down some towels to try and keep the mess contained. But Kirishima is letting out the softest little moans as he tries to rut into your hand and rub at your clit at the same time, and you decide that ruining the moment to lay down towels just isn’t worth it. A little mess is a small sacrifice to make.

When his fingers finally dip inside you, you feel his whole body tense up and still. “Baby,” he says, his voice soft and a little stunned, “You..”

“I stretched myself out before I came over,” you finish for him, pushing your hips back so that his fingers sink all the way inside of you. The lube still inside of you makes the slide effortless, and the look on Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “I’m ready when you are.”

Those words elicit another little spurt of precum as Kirishima’s cock twitches in your hand. When you glance down, you see that the base of his dick is engorged and painful looking, and it only seems to be swelling. You only get to look for a moment though, because then you’re being flipped on your back and Kirishima is looming over you. “Oh, baby, oh shit,” he grits out through clenched teeth as his cock rubs up against the back of your thighs. “Are you sure you want to?”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” you promise him, kissing where you can reach on his face. You reach down and grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Go slow, baby.” You’re so excited when you first feel the tip of his cock press into you that you’re not sure if the gush of wetness is from your pussy or his precum. You’re so turned on that you wonder if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but then the length of him starts to stretch you out and you decide that yes, you absolutely did need that lube.

As soon as the tip is in, Kirishima stills over you. His head drops down, forehead making contact with your shoulder as he groans. You rock your hips experimentally, your breathing gone a little ragged as you realise that you can feel all those fleshy bumps and ridges, but Kirishima snatches at your hips instantly to still you. When he speaks, his voice is strained, “I’m not gonna last.”

Affection bubbles up in your chest as you look at his flushed face, his misty eyes. He’s practically trembling from the effort of holding back. “It’s okay,” you assure him, looping your arms over his shoulders and tracing little patterns into the skin of his back, “You don’t have to, it’s your first time. We have all the time in the world to go again and again, as many times as you want.”

Kirishima makes a garbled little noise in the back of his throat, and then he’s kissing you so sloppily and enthusiastically that drool begins to slip down your chins. It’s a little gross, but considering how much cum you’re going to be covered in soon enough you can’t be too fussy. When he pulls back, it’s so that he can look down and watch where his cock is entering you in increments.

The slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat. You throw your head back on the bed and focus on keeping your breathing as steady as possible as he presses into you so, so slowly. After exploring the length of him with your mouth and hands, you knew he was big, but apparently knowing and feeling are two completely separate things. You feel like you’re being stretched impossibly wide, and when you glance down you see that he’s not even halfway in. 

Kirishima pauses suddenly, his breathing coming in short pants. You think that he’s just taking a moment to collect himself, to pace himself, but he’s frowning down at where the two of you are connected. “I dont- I don’t think I’ll fit.”

“Oh, you’ll fit.” you declare, jaw set stubbornly. His dick was already partly in you, and like hell were you giving up now. “Don’t worry. Keep going, Eiji.”

“You’re so…” he groans as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you, “So tight, you feel so wet and warm inside, oh god, so good, so good.”

The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve prepared yourself well for this and it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe through it. When he bottoms out inside you, the tip of his cock hits your cervix and your whole body jerks hard at the dull ache it sends up your spine. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hips humping back into Kirishima’s of their own accord. You can feel every damn ridge and swirl grinding against your insides, and you clamp down hard around him, gasping. “Oh, shit.”

You’ve never felt so full in your life, and Kirishima’s cock doesn’t even fit all the way inside you. You wonder if you’re about to split in two. Your thighs are splayed obscenely wide, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. Your chest is heaving as you pant for breath -- your thoughts have turned a little muddy, but even now you can see that Kirishima has frozen, his face tucked into your neck as he shudders with deep, panting breaths. Your shoulder feels wet, and you realise that he’s drooling on you.

“Eijirou,” you groan, “Move.”

His first thrust is hesitant, exploratory. He apparently likes what he feels, because he lifts his head up so that he can look at you properly. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused, and his expression alone shoots a bolt of heat straight between your legs. You breathe out a curse and move your hips down and into him, trying to encourage him to fuck you properly. When he thrusts forward again, the movement is accompanied by a vulgar squelching sound, and you realise that you’re probably being filled up with his precum. The thought makes you moan quietly, tightening up around him. 

Kirishima grunts and dives down so that your chests are pressed together, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. His moans sound like they’ve come straight out of a porn video as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as possible before pulling out and doing it again. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping.

His movements are nearly feral, jackhammering into you at a pace that probably should feel punishing but instead has you hiccuping out moans on every stroke. The size of him and the speed at which he’s fucking at you is overwhelming in the best possible way. He keeps gasping your name in between moans, his jaw lolling open as he pants for breath. “Oh, baby girl, you feel so good, so good for me. You like this?”

“Yes!” you wheeze, clinging to his shoulders as he rails you into the mattress. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. “Oh god, don’t stop!” You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly, and you practically throw yourself down to meet his thrusts. “Please, I’m gonna cum, make me cum, Eiji!”

Kirishima practically snarls at that, his hand snaking down to your pussy even as he keeps rutting into you. His hand finds your clit and starts stroking at it hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking. “Fuck yes, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You know you’re starting to shake apart, his cock and his fingers too much for you. Your body is strung taut, your orgasm so close you can virtually taste it. As he feels you clamp down around him Kirishima lets out a whimpering moan, and with that you’re totally gone, head slamming back on the bed as you let out mindless, breathless little choking moans. It feels like your vision totally wipes out as you convulse in Kirishima’s arms, hips twitching wildly. 

When the euphoria of your orgasm finally subsides, you feel so totally fucked out that you hardly know which way is up. It takes you a moment to become aware of the way Kirishima is humping into you desperately now, hunkering over you and groaning. Feeling his cock slide in and out of your over-sensitive and still twitching pussy is almost too much, and you know you won’t be able to take much more of his relentless pounding. You clench around him as tight as you can and cup his sweaty face in your hands, smiling at the open-mouthed look of pure need he’s giving you. “Are you gonna cum inside me, Eiji?”

Apparently that was the correct thing to say, because you can see the moment that he hurtles completely over the edge. He shoves his cock as deep as he can get inside you and then he’s crying out as he begins to empty himself inside you. He keeps rocking, even though his cock is crammed as far into you as it’s possible to get, and you tremble and gasp as you feel his cum spraying inside you. It feels totally filthy, and there’s so much of it that you can feel it leaking out and down your ass even though Kirishima’s cock is still plugging you up. There’s so much cum that you actually start to wonder if your birth control is going to still be effective. You almost expect it to start coming out of your ears.

It seems like he’s cumming forever, and eventually he has to pull out because you’re just too full. As soon as his gradually softening cock is pulled free, it seems like a veritable bucketload of cum streams out of you and makes a mess of the bedcovers. It’s simultaneously really gross and really, really hot, and you don’t have the energy to unpack that so you just lay back and watch as Kirishima’s cock continues to dribble cum all over his legs and your abdomen. The swollen base of his cock is deflated now, and his dick eventually gives one last twitch and then he’s finished. 

He collapses on top of you, sweaty and soiled with his cum, but you don’t complain as he wraps you up in his arms and kisses your temples, murmuring soft, mindless praise into your hairline. “Are you okay?” he whispers, “Did I hurt you?”

You laugh a little, still winded. Your pussy is feeling achey from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow, but it’s the best kind of hurt imaginable. “You did everything just right.” you say, giving him a tired smile. “How was it?”

“If I could stay in your pussy forever, I would.” he says solemnly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

You laugh properly at that, and roll over so that you’re lying across his chest. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve just ruined me for all other cocks in the world. No one's ever gonna compare to how good yours feels.”

With your chin on his chest, you have a clear view of the way he flushes at your words, and the vulnerability that creeps into his expression as he looks at you. “Really?”

“I just came so hard it felt like the world was ending.” you grin at him, then press a teasing kiss to one of his pecs. “Yes, really.”

A smile breaks out on his face, toothy and dorky, as if he can’t believe his luck. “So… Would you want to do it again, maybe? Sometime?”

The smile you return is so wide it feels like it’s about to split your face. “Yeah, Eiji. Without question.”

It’s hard to kiss when you’re both grinning like total idiots, but the two of you make a valiant effort all the same. The ridiculous amount of cum painting the two of you is beginning to dry and flake off your skin, and it's definitely kind of gross but you’re so happy and sated and tired in that moment that you’re pretty sure nothing on earth could ruin the moment for you. Not even Bakugou when he comes pounding at the door and yelling obscenities in the form of noise complaints.

[whumpersdump]

Project Rebirth - CH1: The Speech

So, this is my first whump work (that I’m posting;). The word count’s close to 1400 words. Worth noting, English isn’t my first language.

This chapter is from the whumper’s POV.

[ Masterlist ] -- [ Next ]

TW: Restraints (like, very restrained. In a straitjacket) / muzzle / Implied past and future pet whump (institutionalized, like there is a ministry for it.) / implied torture / dehumanization (not with pronouns though)  / I think technically this also fits as lab whump, but it’s still implied.

This is the intro to my series, and doesn’t contain nearly as much whump as the next parts will. The Whumper is literally going to explain what the plot is. He’s very excited about it. He’s prepared his Project Rebirth for years. He’s prepared for anything.

Whumper straightened his back as he looked out on his audience. He hovered his hand over the remote he’d use for this slides, and corrected the position of his speech cards. “We live in a world that is on the brink of change.”

He opened the first slide. He’d picked it all out with the most care he could give it. This one featured headlines from the past few years. ‘An Epidemic of Defiance. How Can We End It?’. ‘More Pet Returns Than Ever Before’. ‘Interest In Re-Training Skyrockets’.

‘Pet Escapes a Record Thirty Times’.

He gave his audience a moment to take the headlines in, before continuing his speech. The last one in particular. His soon to be masterpiece.

“Throughout the past centuries, thousands of specialists have committed themselves to the task of training the pets we cherish so much. There are ones for every type. Those that breed defiance, or rather submission. Quiet pets, or loud ones. All tastes can be accounted for today. However, not for all pets.”

He gestured to the last headline. “No matter how hard we’ve tried, again and again, some pets never seem to learn. What then?”

He held his hands up as if waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question. “We keep them as examples, to teach the ones that will learn to know their place. Or in the most extreme cases, we have even considered resort to well… extreme measures. I’m here to tell you, I have the solution.”

“Project Rebirth will put an end to to our struggles. My program can turn any pet in the pet that you deserve. It can make them the submissive and obedient friend you require. It can also create that fiery defiance that makes them seem almost human.”

He took a breath as some faces in the audience grew a frown. “Without the risk that compels us to train it out of them.”

The audience calmed, their faces filled with curious anticipation. Right where he needed them to be.

“Defiance,” he began. “It’s not the only flaw in our pets that drives us to return them to their trainer’s doorstep or worse— leave them on the streets. However it is the most common problem we face today. Whether it is violence to themselves or others, failure to comply, or accept their place in our world, if you’re here today you’ve seen it.”

He pointed at his so coveted headline again. “Even if you’re not the proud owner of a pet of your own, I don’t think there’s many of us that haven’t seen this headline re-appear over the past years. Different numbers, of course.” That got a giggle from a businessman in the front row.

“The pet in question has never actually qualified for placement. This pet is the one that made us consider those extreme measures. They’ve escaped every institution that made the mistake to consider them just another pet. Not even the most renowned specialists have managed to break them, our greatest heroes included.”

He looked down, and basked in the eager anticipation that hung in the room. “With Project Rebirth, I can tame even them.”

Right on cue, his assistant Toby entered the stage. Obedient as ever. Toby’s owner had volunteered him to test the last stage, but passed away. The pet was left in Whumper’s care. Not too bright—like all pets—but among the smartest nonetheless. He was one of the rare ones that truly understood his place. Which was why he was the only pet allowed near the Project without going through it.

Toby pushed forward a hand truck Whumper had specifically designed for today’s purpose. To restrain the most dangerously defiant pet in decades, while making sure the entire audience would catch a glimpse of what would soon be called a miracle.

Muffled curses came out from under the muzzle, their muscles twitched even within the stark white straitjacket and countless restraints that kept them in place. They were as heavily sedated as they could be without them losing their spark. The few master trainers in the audience would know this was a fraction of the inferno their anger and fear could cause, but to everyone else this was spectacle enough.

“Now I’m sure you’re all familiar with at least several of the many names their different trainers have given them, but under my care, for the following months, they will be known as Subject One. After all, they will be the first pet to complete the entire Rebirth program.

“Of course we shouldn’t forget the people that have selflessly volunteered the most intelligent pets of the nation to test the stages separately.” He didn’t want to say this, but his PR manager assured him it would backfire on him if he didn’t. “It is because of them I can finally introduce Project Rebirth’s trial phase to you all.”

He flashed on an as genuine smile as he could muster, and clicked over to the next slide. “With Project Rebirth, any pet can be reborn in anyway you wish them to be. Our entire program is tailored to the pet’s past, and our client’s needs. As will be the program for our dear Subject One.”

As he stared into the pet’s frantic eyes, a frown curled so deep it almost folded over their muzzle. In just a few months, even they would be a sea of calmness. As the ministry desired.

“The ministry of pet management has turned Subject One over to my care in the hope that I could achieve what no one else could.” A few faces turned to others, soft whispers spread through the room. Some sighed. In the back, someone even got up.

It didn’t matter. He would blow their minds. “What if I told you, that within the same time it took for this pet to escape those 30 times, I can turn them into the pet you all wish your pets strive to be?” That got their attention back.

“In the past month me and countless professionals that work under Project Rebirth have evaluated and tested each and every part of this pet.” He clicked to the next slide. It featured a number of diagrams detailing everything from personality traits to behavioral patterns.

“We quite literally mapped their defiance. Starting tonight, Project Rebirth will uncover the treasure buried under the large X that marks all of their placement forms.”

The following slide showed pictures of the test subjects placed in different stages of the program. Pre-Birth, Infancy, and the Toddler stage, as some of the staff had dubbed it. Though, on the official notes they just numbered them.

“Project Rebirth consists of 8 stages. The first you’re all familiar with.” He put on a smile again as a few people predicted what he’d say. “That dreaded evaluation that tells you where you went wrong.” A soft laugh went through the room.

“The second is more for us rather than the pet, but rest assured they won’t be forgotten. In our second stage we take what we’ve learned and map not only their behavior, but also the program in accordance with said behavior.”

He held his hands up. “Now, the third and onward… those are a bit of a trade secret. Rest assured, should you decide to put your money—” he blinked, to ease the not-so subtle request— “and once our first trial is completed, your pets in out care, you won’t be disappointed.” He nodded, marking the end of his speech.

“Now my scientists will happily answer as much of your questions as they can, after which those of you who decide to support my goal will be given a small sneak peak into our second stage. Which I assure you, is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Applause erupted from the audience, as Subject One trashed against their restraints. Whumper smiled. He gave them one last bow, and turned the presentation back the headlines.

If he succeeded, his program could become the standard worldwide. All he had to do, was get all those people to throw enough money at him to make it possible on such a scale.

He turned off his microphone and addressed the assistant that had patiently waited beside the subject for his orders. “Toby, write down your last observations on the subject’s responses. I want a presentable report within two hours. And tell the staff to begin storage preparations. Tier 3, please.”

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Secrets Revealed

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.8k Rating: G, probably, mild T at worst AU: Theater, Werewolf, Monster, Cryptid

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Author’s Note: Welp, guess it’s not a one shot after all…

Summary: Nico isn’t the only one.

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What the heck?

That was all Maki could think as she sat on a small couch in the dressing room of the woman she was supposed to be starring alongside. Said woman, one Yazawa Nico, purported rising star in the theater world, was currently sitting in her lap. As a dog. A Pomeranian breed dog, to be exact. And Maki had been instructed by some purple haired woman, who apparently already knew her name and felt comfortable calling her Maki-chan, to pet the dog.

What. The. Heck.

Maki had completely forgotten the question she had intended to ask of her costar. Of course, it didn’t help that everywhere she looked she saw pink. Or flowers. Or other little trinkets Nico had likely received over the years. Or pictures of Nico. By the gods, there were dozens of pictures.

Nico had obviously been acting since childhood as Maki picked out various younger versions of the raven-haired do… woman. But so had Maki, and her parents hadn’t taken nearly as many pictures. Granted, they had been busy with their own work and it had not been uncommon for the only familiar faces for her in the audience to be members of the household staff, usually their estate manager. But still...

Smooth.

Maki was distracted from her thoughts when her fingers found what felt like smooth skin instead of soft fur. She looked down…

“Y-Yazawa-san…” She stammered, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

Crimson eyes opened and Nico turned her head up to meet Maki’s gaze.

It took a moment for the situation to register, but when it did, Nico’s eyes widened.

“Kyaa!” Nico cried, shoving herself off Maki and the couch.

Nico landed on her back on the floor, twisted herself up to her hands and knees and scrambled around the clothing rack to hide. There, she grabbed the first garment her hand found and started to put it on. Thankfully, it happened to be a simple sundress that she was able to pull over her head and be presentable enough for her purposes.

“S-Sorry about…” Nico paused to clear her throat, hoping to alleviate her stutter. “Sorry about that, Nishikino-san.” She moved back out from behind the rack. “I suppose Nozomi would want me to thank you for… Hey, are you alright?” She moved toward the couch.

“I’m… fine…” Maki insisted.

“You sure? I know some folks have significant blushes, but geez your face literally matches your hair. It’s made it to your ears… your neck. What the… your arms and hands even?” Wait, what was that? Nico leaned closer. “Holy Amaterasu… you’re burning up!”

“I’m… fine…”

“No, you’re not. I can feel it from here. I don’t even need to put my hand on your forehead. Geez, I’ve taken my siblings to the hospital with lesser fevers. Just what the heck are you? And do I need to drag you off my couch before you ignite it?”

“…” Maki hunched her shoulders, seeming to withdraw into herself.

Nico sighed and put a hand on her hip. “Look, you’ve already seen that I’m a werewolf. And I didn’t need Nozomi to tell me you’re not human either; I can smell the difference.” She tapped her nose. “And right now, I’m getting something new. Is that sulfur? Brimstone? Are you a demon?”

“S-salamander…” Maki muttered, her face managing to become an even brighter shade of red.

“Salamander?” Nico mentally skimmed through what she knew. “You mean like Charmander?”

“Close enough, I guess…”

“Oh? Show me.”

“Wha?!” Maki balked, sitting up with enough force she managed to tip the couch back a bit.

Nico held back a chuckle. “Show me.”

“Wh-wh-why?!”

“Like I said, you already saw my werewolf form. It’s only fair I get to see your salamander form.”

“Uuuehhh….” Maki let out one of the most adorable sounds Nico had heard in a long while.

“Besides, if we going to be costars in this show, we shouldn’t have secrets between us. Right?”

“… Fine…”

Almost immediately, Maki’s skin gained a sheen that made it almost appear wet, like she had just stepped out of a warm shower. Then her eyes changed, gaining a fiery brilliance. And finally, the young woman began to shrink.

And shrink.

And shrink.

And shrink.

Nico couldn’t help reaching down and poking at a lump in Maki’s shirt she assumed to be her. Sure enough, the lump moved, and out of the collar skittered a tiny, red amphibian. However, when it looked up at Nico with those amethyst eyes, as bright as they were, there was no doubt she was looking at Maki.

Nico couldn’t help reaching out a hand. Slowly, tentatively, Maki stepped up onto her fingers. Nico then lifted the lizard up closer to her face.

“You’re cute like this, Maki-chan.” She couldn’t help using the familiar term, despite having not even known the other woman for ten minutes.

Immediately, intense heat radiated off the crimson creature. Not quite hot enough to burn Nico, but definitely reaching into uncomfortable levels. Still, the amusement factor alone was enough for Nico to bear the heat.

A knock sounded at the door.

Maki jumped off Nico’s hand and slipped back into her shirt.

“Nico-chan?” A voice called from the other side.

“Yeah, coming…” Nico responded, wondering if she should hide Maki’s clothes first, with her still in them. Well, they weren’t easily visible from the door, what with the arm of the couch blocking the pile, so maybe it was fine? “Ah, Minami-san.” She said, recognizing the woman on the other side as she opened the door.

“Oh, that sounds too formal.” Kotori said laughing lightly. “Just Kotori is fine. Anyway, I’m here to deliver these samples.” She handed over a neatly folded stack of textiles. “Please let me know which ones you like best so Yoshiko-chan and I can get to work on your outfits.”

“Alright.” Nico nodded.

“And I see you’re already trying out some of our finished works.” Kotori commented. “Although we may have to make some adjustments to the measurements Nozomi-chan gave us for you.” She reached out and tugged at one of the shoulder straps, indicating a looseness below.

Nico grimaced. Of course, Nozomi would change some of the numbers to mess with her. “So you guys already made all those?” She indicated the rack she had hid behind moments ago.

“Ye…” Kotori cutoff as she noticed something. “Except that one.” She pointed as if Nico could figure out what she meant just by that. “Honoka-chan insisted on buying that one online for us to use as reference. I told her not to, and it definitely wasn’t supposed to end up here for you to see.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, that is not representative of the quality standard Yoshiko-chan and I are capable of producing.”

Wait, did she mean that tacky werewolf… thing? Nico wondered. The thing I was just about to complain about? “So, it’s just a reference?” She asked aloud, suddenly thankful she wouldn’t actually have to wear it.

“Yes.” Kotori nodded. “I figured we didn’t need anything like that, because we could just use Nico-chan herself as our reference, because you’re, well… you know.” She motioned to the raven-haired woman.

“Right… You know, I’m surprised someone as talented as you is working at a startup theater like this.”

“Oh, it’s fine. After all, I’m returning a favor to Umi-chan.” Kotori said with a wide smile.

That’s right, Nico recalled, Sonoda Umi was one of the cofounders and co-owners of the theater, along with Kurosawa Dia.

“Although even without the favor,” Kotori continued, wistfully “I’d still be here, so I could work with Umi-chan on this wonderful project.”

Wait, that tone and expression. Were Kotori and Umi together? Now there was some celebrity news that seemed to have slipped through the cracks. Interesting.

“Anyway, back to work.” Kotori chirped merrily. “See you two later.” With that she practically skipped down the hall toward the costume department.

“You can change back now, she’s gone.” Nico said aloud, closing the door. “Though I think she knew you were here anyway. I’ll keep my back turned until you’re dressed.”

After a moment, Nico heard rustling of cloth behind her.

“Alright, you can turn around now, Yazawa-san.”

“Nico is fine.” Nico said, turning to find a still somewhat flustered redhead.

“Alright… Say, what is that.” Maki motioned to something at Nico’s feet.

“Mm?” Nico looked down to find a feather and stooped to pick it up. “Well, I guess that confirms the rumor…”

“Rumor?”

“About Minami Kotori being a crane.”

“She is?”

“Oh c’mon, I know you can sense others like I can.”

“Well, yeah” Maki admitted “but only at close range…”

“And you were pretty close when I thought you were being an entitled brat by how adamant you were about fabric types for your outfits.”

“I… wha… You saw that?”

“Yup. I was wondering what all the commotion was about, so I went to check.”

“I wasn’t raising a commotion.” Maki furrowed her brow. “And I was definitely not being entitled, just cautious.”

“Yeah, I know that now.” Nico made dismissive motions with her hands. “Your salamander heat thing. Certainly wouldn’t want to be melting polyester on yourself or whatever. That said, I believe Kotori’s more than capable of imbuing anything she makes with super special heat resistant properties for someone like Maki-chan.”

“Oh? How?”

“Didn’t you hear when I just said she was a crane?”

“Well, yeah, but that just means she’s a bird?”

“What the heck, Maki-chan?” Nico huffed. “Did your parents not teach you about your history? Our history? Monsters and cryptids and mythic beasts and such?”

“Not really…”

“So, you’ve never heard about the crane who returns favors.”

Maki shook her head.

Nico sighed. What kind of parents did this girl have? “She weaves her own feathers into her works, which imbues them with special properties. And if the rumors are true, she’s training her assistant to do the same with hers. Yoshiko? Yohane? Something like that, I haven’t met her yet.”

“Is she a crane as well?”

“Fallen angel. She’s pretty adamant about it too, and really doesn’t do too much to hide it.” Nico shrugged. “Probably for the best that the normies around here don’t believe such things very easily. They just think she’s weird, a chuunibyou or whatever. But folks like you and I…”

“Right…”

“Anyway, they’re making everything antistatic for me.”

Maki giggled. “For you weredog thing?”

“Weredog?” Nico growled, earning a flinch from the redhead. “I’m a werewolf! And don’t you forget it!”

“Oops, did I come in at a bad time?” Nozomi asked as she let herself in.

“No, you’re fine.” Nico grumbled, still glaring at Maki. “What do you want?”

“The managers want everyone to gather on stage for a meeting.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever. C’mon, Nishikino.” Nico had to put conscious effort into not stomping toward the door. The last thing she needed now was to transform again.

“… Right…” Maki replied with no small amount of disappointment in her tone, before following the other two women into the hall.

----------

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

[betweentheracks]

can you tell us what your credentials are and what sort of studies/coursework did you have to take up to get to your position? and, if not too personal, what your day to day work life might look life in and out awards seasons or other big ticket events your clients might need styled for?

This is long and rambling, I do apologize. 

Regarding coursework and education routes into becoming a pro stylist, the thing is that there isn’t necessarily a need for a specific type of education. You could literally drop school and strive for success by the grit of your teeth and iron will alone if you really want and still could gain great acclaim. It isn’t exactly common but it does happen if you strike upon fortunate circumstances and garner experience wherever possible to form the base of your portfolio and profile which will later shape your reputation. 

As it is, most studios and clients do tend to give more consideration to those that come from an academic qualifications and learning. While experience if the foreground on which all stylists (and any other set of industry workers) tread, having the support and security of studying styles and fashion and marketing and all manner of related blather gives a sense of merit and provides opportunities for your to be selected for a job despite a lack of reputation or experience. The best stylists fall from both trees and the worst do as well; there is no guaranteed recipe for success in this field as fashion itself is too fluid in expression to be quantified. 

As for what I did; I had hands in both pots and have the educational background that assures I know what I am doing in terms of textual/technical understanding as well as experience from moments of pure luck compounded by my audacious efforts. I have a Bachelor’s compromised of fashion merchandising, fashion retailing, marketing, and visual arts. I took side courses at a fashion technical institute with a more tailored program that catered to the fundamentals of fit, body (and measurements) assessment, design and trends, media styling, and fashion industry principles. Additionally I did half a semester of social skills in a business. From there I went on to snatch up an internship and spent a bit more than a year being a shadow of the stylists for the company I work for before grasping a golden chance to become notable and step beyond that restricted role. I also have the certifications of AICI CIC and AICI CIP with hopes to one day finally snag the coveted AICI CIM (respectively; certified image consultant, certified image professional, certified image master).

I had friends that have worked in and out of this end of the industry and knew from the jump that I wanted to pad my portfolio with the safety net provided by academia and use it to bridge the gaps in my experience early on. I figured if I had the knowledge of how to deal with the business side of things as well as the styling side then I was a bit more valuable and, worst case, could go be a consultant or advisor for retailers or big wig company heads. As it is, the only reason I have any clout to my name at all is due to my internship - it paved over all the potholes in the road I was on and has been very favorable, but not everyone is as fortunate as I have been and this is not an easy path to undertake and forge into a career with any real sense of stability or security. Freelance stylists have a completely different struggle despite the majority coming from similar backgrounds as myself. 

Now, onto the daily scope and specs of wardrobe styling ~

Please take into consideration that I am an admitted workaholic/perfectionist/overachiever within the boundaries of my work. I’m quite lazy in almost every other sense of living and make existing seem like a wreck and I’m the one driving the struggle-bus that caused it, but for the job I have I am a supremely different breed (though still a lunatic). So yeah, I do a lot more than most would in my position and it is actually something that my company head both loves and hates and is rumored to be writing a clause for all employees regarding allowable working methodology due to the sheer amount of paperwork I alone generate. I am the hazard of our company, but I am also an asset. 

Anyway, I start most of my days with a lot of reading through emails that range from client comments and commands to vendors looking to use my company or clientele to bolster their credibility, to brands extending offers of product usage for marketing and campaigning reasons, and a variety of back and forths between me and the PAs or clerks of photographers, other studios, and fashion houses. Next comes hours of phone calls and reviewing schedules to ensure there is no intersections between client-oriented event slots. For one photoshoot I typically spend 3-4 weeks on the semantics of lighting quality and set features and then the rest of the time is dedicated to wardrobe and piecing out however many styles are called for, and then usually adding in at least 2 extras just for good measure. There's so many meetings my butt goes numb and touching base with the other members of my glam teams to reaffirm that we are all working on tandem and on the same page as far as vision goes. I sometimes have a turn in taking care of a new trainee or intern that is wandering our workplace like a fawn on clumsy legs and have questionable instincts.

When it comes to pulling apparel to make up sets, I have been known to be in the rack rooms and show rooms and fashion archives for over 7 hours a day. Our archivists know me as personally as I know my assistants and friends from how often I am in there territory and have to rely on their hardwork and favor. I spend days doing this until I have what I need and then dedicate every bit of my attention designing and creating looks which is another 5+ hours of one day, over the course of many. I have had days where I have been at work for 16 or 17 hours before I realize it, which is why I am such a thorn in my boss’ ass and often told to take a day off or get sent home midway through the morning - my hours alone could have business bureaus raising their eyebrows at the legality of my working hours. (This is cranked to max when shows and events are in the schedule; Awards Season is a nightmare and tours are the bastard offspring of Hell actually. The amount of hours put in are truly horrific). 

Also worth mentioning for the sake of perspective is that my job is as expansive as my clients allow; if they request me for one of their various activities in the public eye or in media, if available, I am obligated to prioritize their needs above the projects that my company has assigned to me as per our contract and am expected to either find a replacement or delegate to my assistant and apprentice when possible. The opposite is also true: if my clients have a light workload or are on break from their careers, I am typically doing the busy work of in-studio tasks or tracking rising trends and other features of the fashion forecast. I also host a multitude of temporary contracts with all manner of clientele from brand ambassadors to photographers to celebrities to commercial shoots & services. These jobs come upon official requests made through the company and then negotiated into the terms of how short the working schedule will be, what work I will be undertaking, and an assessment of skills vs revenue to maintain a balance of my time as a professional being properly valued within the sad decline of styling budgets before it will be officially taken on in my name. For these I tend to make better use of my status and hand off most of the project unless I am specifically needed. I make appearances as necessary but am mostly an advisor rather than the producer, instead focusing on my exclusive clients all while staying keyed in so that the work isn't below standard. This is all a badly kept secret of my company and myself - the clients do typically know and accept this is how I handle things in general and are aware that they are paying for an absent role of by way of my name/credentials unless they specify otherwise. There have been times when a side job like this has more prestige than all the years of my experiences combined could generate which ostensibly is treated with much more care and most of my other work pauses in deference to this. 

Being a stylist, especially a wardrobe AND fashion stylist, is just so much I don't think I could fully capture the scale of it for a proper index of what we do. 

In short, I don't have routine days. I have days that are at the beck and call of a workload that changes at the drop of a pin or the half digit uptick that dictates the emergence of a new trend or the downwind of when a trend skews into becoming mainstream. I can be paced out and looking at a light day at my desk and suddenly be crammed into a pitch meeting or called out to a set. I've also spent many days lounging on the sofa in a client's dressing room playing on my phone and cracking jokes with the glam team as we wait for our client to return between performance takes. And then there are days when I only go into work for our weekly meeting and review before heading back home. It's constant and consuming and sometimes I can't catch my breath before I'm shoved into the show room under a daunting time crunch because an entire ensemble has been misplaced or ruined. Just a matter of days before I was felled by COVID-19 I was having a nap during a photoshoot which I had already fulfilled my purpose and had no further need to participate in.

The reality is that I spend the majority of my time carving out a balance of my work life not superseding my time dedicated to being with my son and making sure he knows no matter what, he is above my hectic career always.

[popculturebuffet]

The Three Caballeros Ride Again Review!: And Ladies (Ride of the Three Caballeros)

Saludos Amigos! I’m back with yet another comics review! And we’re back on The Ride of the Three Cablleros! Thanks again to WeirdKev27 for commissioning this retrospective. It’s going to get pricey and I greatly appreciate it.  PREVIOUSLY ON RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS 

In short.. a bunch of short segments of varying quality, a very thirsty Donald hitting on ladies, the first appearance of Panchito and some very good music. A fun time was had by all. Along with a LOT OF drugs by the Disney Animators. The film wasn’t a huge success, but out of the 6 package films, it was a fan faviorite alongside the Mr. Toad and Ichabod movie, and thus was rereleased quite a bit, as well as being one of the first of this era to end up on VHS due to it’s cult popularity.  As for Panchito and Jose they’d get plenty of success overseas, with both getting solo series in their respective home countries, Jose himself having just resumed having comics again this year, and being rightfully massive characters. But despite being a hit with fans across the world.. in the US... they were pretty much shoved in the Disney Vault for a few decades. Jose would show up on the Wonderful World of Disney, in it’s various forms, three times after the Three Caballeros while Panchito just vanished aside from reuses of the Three Caballeros footage. Their careers in the US just sorta vanished for a few decades. But as suddenly as they vanished, our boys returned triumphantly. Naturally being the most used out of the duo, Jose would show up for the first time in decades during Mickey Mouseworks, a show full of new late 90′s produced Mickey Mouse shorts, all but two of which would end up being recycled for the much more popular and well loved House of Mouse, which would feature the triumphant return of the Cabs to animation after so long away. We’ll get to that next time, as just a year before the Cabs had already reunited in the pages of Walt Disney’s Comics and Stories in one of Don Rosa’s best loved tales. The Ride of The Three Caballeros was something Don Rosa had wanted to do since he got the job writing Duck Comics in the first place. As he explained in the back of the complete library edition named after this tale, Uncle Keno isn’t the biggest fan of the Donald Theatrical shorts. Having experienced the Carl Barks comics first, and having built his career around them later, he just wasn’t a fan of the goofier, angrier, less nuanced theatrical short Donald, often feeling like he was an entirely different character from the one he loved. And.. honestly he’s not wrong. Both were built for entirely different kinds of comedy: While both did slapstick, Slapstick, along with standard comedy shenanigans, was the main weapon in Shorts Donald’s comedic arsenal. Barksian Donald, while not immune to slapstick, was more like a well built sitcom character: Multi layered, sympathetic when he needs to be, but still having tons of faults to be exploited for laughs and to play off other characters. As a result while I like Donald in the shorts I do prefer Barks version of him, and the shorts Barks did are usually the best of both worlds, combining Donald’s everyman schtick with his slapstick schtick. Of course later cartoons would pick one or the other or combine both, but I do get his point and at the time he wrote this story the only cartoon show starring Donald was.. Quack Pack.. which I can only imagine his reaction to seeing that train wreck. 

But as you can probably guess there was one exception and it was The Three Caballeros. Don genuinely enjoys the beautiful music and the wonderful chemistry the three have. So after a trip to Mexico gave him the perfect setting and the fire in his belly to finally do it, he finally wrote the story. And since they weren’t Barksian characters and hadn’t had any other apperances in decade, Don also took a dive into their comics. Since Jose was more of a fancifial freeloader in his comics, Don decided to ignore this characterization and go with his own based on the film: A latin playboy and lounge singer. And i’m okay with him doing that, as unlike say with Marvel and DC when they destroy a character, Disney characters are both more fluid continuity wise and his is still rooted in a version of the character, and he’s fully accepting and apologetic that some fans hate him for this. Also for some damn reason they redesigned Jose at some point in his Brazil to look like this:

This is far from the dumbest comic book costume change i’ve seen, but it’s certainly one of the most lame, as his original outfit is dapper, stylish and fits the Brazilian version of him well. And it’s not like you CAN’T update the classic Disney characters with modern appearances. Quack Pack, which has somehow come up twice in this review, did so great with Donald and Daisy, giving them new clothes and a haircut in Daisy’s case but both still look great. Same with Goofy for Goof Troop who just wore a dad sweater and bow tie, which puts him in the small but significant club of “Bow Tie Wearing Characters who have defined my life” with Opus the Penguin and the 11th Doctor. You can update a classic character’s’s appearance without coming off like...

Which given Jose’s outfit there is horrifyingly similar, says something. Anyways, Rosa had more use for Panchito’s stories, which had him as a cowboy protecting small towns with the help of his trusty steed Senor Martinez. Rosa loved both aspects and thus used them here, with Martinez getting a makeover to fit Rosa’s style better. Rosa is also the one to popularize Panchito’s last name, having found it on a scrap of research, not realizing the character’s last name was not at all widespread and thus giving him a canon one that has stuck to this day, and sighing in relief when he finally got conformation from another fan this name was indeed something Disney had used after loosing his research scrap.  So with the two boys characters set, a plot set up and a whole sequence planned we’ll talk about on the way “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!” was born. How good is it? Well join me under the cut and i’ll tell you. 

We open in Mexico, specifically near the Barranca Del Cobre, aka The “Copper Canyon” of the Sierra Madre, a natural land formation simlar to the Grand Canyon that Don Rosa saw during his trip and thought would make a great setting. While larger than the Grand Canyon, Rosa figures in his notes it simply isn’t as popular because it’s more isolated than the Grand Canyon and that, combined with it having trees inside distracting from it’s rugged beauty, makes it much harder to build a tourist industry around. The four are headed to El Divisadero, because this comic is determined to kill me with it’s difficult to spell names apparently, where Huey, Dewey or Louie spouts off for no particular reason about the currently being built Chihuahua El Pacifico Railway. Seriously the boys might as well be the security guard from Wayne’s World in this comic, their role for most of their brief page time is just to set up stuff for later. I mean i’m fine with setting up your setting but there are better ways than just spouting off tons of exposition apropos of nothing. 

Donald has driven the boys here for a Woodchuck Jamboree. I did actually look into Jamborees, as before this it only had ever come up in one of my favorite movies of all time, Moonrise Kingdom, and mentioned occasionally in the Ducktales Reboot. Jamboree was first used for a worldwide scouting Jamboree but has gone on to mean a huge gathering of scouts, with the Boy Scouts of America having one every four years, so odds are it’s just a big yearly or quarter yearly thing for the woodchucks. Still it would be nice to see a big gathering like this in the series, especially since several of our cast are involved in them, including the possible power trio of Huey, Violet and Boyd, and Della and Launchpad could easily be slotted into the plot as seen in this season’s premiere.. as could Dewey and Louie if they really want to since according to Frank their members.. they just aren’t nearly as invested as their brother, and thus  don’t do Woodchuck stuff unless he drags them into it, as seen with “Day of the Only Child” in the series itself. It does make sense: Dewey doesn’t have the survival instinct or patience for camping, and Louie hates effort, the out doors, and doing things for anything but profit. Scouting is all of that.  So the boys have driven all this way for the Mexican Jamboree, as they’ve been carefully raising their tarantula Tara, and the Tarantula Breeding Badge is only given out in Mexico, which is plausible: Different branches of a worldwide organization would have different awards and what not in different countries. And Tarantula’s are also native to mexico so that makes sense.. and I want you to apricate that I’m afraid of spiders, not cartoony ones, for instance, this is adorable. 

Galvantula4Life. But real life ones or realistic looking ones? Yeah no fuck that. So I had to go to the Wikipedia entry and see several horrifying looking sizeable spiders for this one tiny fact. Your welcome. Tara ends up on Donald’s face with the boys assuming Donald is sad to see her go instead of you know FUCKING TERRIFIED A GIANT SPIDER IS ON HIS FACE. This gag does not work.. but probably because as I said i’m afraid of spiders and this is my nightmare, you little sociopaths. 

The boys however worry about what Donald will do for the weekend as they prepare to board the bus to the Jamboree... why it’s meeting in an out of the way town like this I have no idea, but i’d guess plot convince. They realize he has no friends, which Donald shrugs off, and they REALLY shouldn’t say to his face, but ruminate on it once he leaves to do whatever after vaguely talking about friends he had in the past. 

I like this scene even though it annoys me a bit: Ilike it because it does set up how Donald really DOSEN’T have any friends in the comics. It’s part of WHY Rosa was drawn to the Cabs: Their one of the few equal relationships donald’s ever had, people who treat him as a partner, in both sense probably, a friend, a true amigo. As the boys point out Scrooge is a monster to him in the comics, paying him 30 cents an hour which I actually put into an inflation calculator to get an accurate read on how little that was by 2020 standards.. and it’s 3 dollars an hour. Hence why I call him a monster, why that bit hasn’t aged well, and why Rosa REALLY, REALLY should’ve retired it. It dosen’t help reading that knowing Disney largely treated Rosa the same way is cringe inducing at best, if not for any fault of his own. It being cringe inducing for an employer horribly mistreating and underpaying his employees though is his fault, he’s a grown ass man, even in the 90′s this had to be a problem, be better. 

And yes i’m being hard on Don Rosa but just like with the comics thing, I simply expect better from the man given just how much respect I have for the guy. His art is gorgeous, his research is immaculate, his knowledge of old films is wonderful and his love for them so infectious i’m tempted to seek the ones he’s mentioned in notes out. He’s a truly wonderful guy and one of my faviorite comic writers.. but I have to treat him fairly like I do ANY of my idols. Just to prove that, I love Grant Morrison, especially his run on New X-Men, but a lot of it hasn’t aged well including some of the language and the entire subplot with Emma manipulating Scott into having an affair when he wasn’t in the best mental place and she knew that and was acting as his therapist, and treating that as a regular affair REALLY doesn’t play well nor should it have. I love Al Ewing, with all my heart and soul, but his run on Ultimates, while having some great worldbuilding and a spectacular cast, ultimately wasn’t very good after the first arc. Not terrible but not good. John Aliison, of Scary Go Round and Giant Days fame, while impressive has had plenty of stories I just didn’t like for various reasons and will probably get into some day and some parts of his stories haven’t aged well. It’s the hard but necessary part of being a critic: You have to be objective and see all the parts of a creator’s creation, not just the ones you like and call them out when they screw up. To me being a fan isn’t about just blindly loving something, it’s about knowing WHY you love it and being willing to call out faults while still thoroughly enjoying the work. There’s a fine line between being blindly loyal to someone, which has created Zach Snyder's awful cult of personality that I hate so much, and being an overly critical shithead and I hope I’m straddling that line. 

Back on the scene after that filibuster they point out Gladstone, who himself is a monster to me for how he doesn’t lift a finger to help his nephews or cousin, and constnatly flaunts his luck to Donald, and is a bit more than teasing especially since he tried to, you know, steal your house once boys. That’s canon.. that’s a barks story so it’s canon here. You.. You remember that right? He tried to steal your house. And we will be getting to that one next month, just you wait.  Finally the Daisy part that annoys me slightly. The boys being sexist.. was sadly the style at the time this story is set, the 1950′s, and thus plays better for me than it does in Ducktales, as their just little boys and don’t know better. Them assuming Girlfriends aren’t like having friends, while accurate though does bother me a bit, but only because the way this story treats Donald’s relationship is PRETTTTTYYYY bad and this sets that up. But we’ll get to that.  Thankfully this foreshadowing of terrors to come is quickly forgotten as we get a GENUINELY great two panels of Donald lamenting his lack of friends. It just works really well, selling his loneliness and how isolated he truly feels without any, which while I have friends I can relate to as I only really hang out with on regularly. 

This is what I was talking about. While I will point out Rosa’s flaws.. their truly outweighed but his artistic mastery. In just three panels he really has a truly emotional and heartrending scene, and just that one close up among them is all we need to get the true depths of Donald’s loneliness. I can be hard on the guy, but it’s because he’s one of the best there is, best there was, and best there ever will be and thus I hold him to a high standard.  But with that we transition to...

Or rather first his boss at the hotel, whose pissed his headliner has skipped out on him again to woo a lady, and while he plans to fire the guy, only isn’t throttling him because he figures one of his “Senorita’s” boyfriends will do that for him. And while I do like Jose as a playboy i’m not really fond of him trying to have sex with someone in a relationship, as it puts both him and the person he’s having an affair with in a really bad light. It does fit the character, I just don’t have to like it. As for this particular Senorita, it turns out her boyfriend is a notorious Bandito and is thankfully out of town. So yes, Jose is essentially acting out Come A Little Bit Closer by Jay and the Americans. 

Naturally just like the song, said Bad Man returns, Alfonso “Gold Hat” Bedoya, a machete wielding baddie who while understandably pissed about another man making time with his girlfriend, is less understandably about to murder Jose. Though unlike the song, Alfonso’s Lady, rather than help Jose, encourages her boyfriend to murder him and clearly has a fetish for cheating on her boyfriend with various men and watching as he kills him which.. Jesus. This is why while I don’t LIKE the idea of Jose hitting on women in a relationship it does work here, as he’s still not nearly as bad as either of these two, so it evens out. Jose escapes with his umbrella but crashes.. right into the back of Donald’s car. Rosa, Alfonso’s lady, encourages him to murder both of them for funsies, and being a brutal thug, Alfonso obliges and shoots at the car. And since, to quote the duck himself, Donald doesn’t like being killed “Even a little”, he books it out of there. 

Alfonso doesn’t peruse them though. He’s on the trail of a treasure hunter who has a map to the lost town of Tayopa, which contains untold silver, but before he can do that he has important buisness to get to. 

I fucking love that gag and that Rosa snuck more adult gags in there knowing plenty of Duck Fans, such as myself, are grown men, women and others who can handle this sort of thing, while still slippnig it past the kids. 

Donald, once the fear’s worn off a bit, starts to wonder WHY he’s running when he’s not the one who pissed off the guy, and ignores Jose’s good point about the fact Alfonso really dosen’t seem like a guy who sees nuance.. until Donald sees a wanted poster for Alphonoso and keeps driving. He eventually gets far enough away to feel safe.. and confront the guy who got him into this mess. 

Now kiss. While sadly, they do not, we do get a lovely warm reunion between old pals. Rosa keeps their past vauge as, correctly, he pointed out in his authors notes that the Cabs movie really had no plot, accurate, so instead just vaguely alluded to Donald having known the two in his pre-daisy and boys past and likely had similar adventures to the movie, but adapted more for Rosa’s barksian universe. Jose explains he often finds himself cash poor and thus hits the road to drum up some money, and Mexico is a great place for that as it has plenty of tourist money. 

Though as Jose talks about their past we get the most uncomfortable running gag of the story. 

While Donald’s paranoia here is played for laughs.. it just.. isn’t all that funny that Donald’s relationship with Daisy in the Rosa canon is apparently sooooo deeply unhealthy that just HEARING about him having a romantic past before him, as Rosa confirmed this was pre-daisy in his notes, causes Donald to panic and worry she actually somehow heard this. It just isn’t funny.. it speaks of MASSIVE relationship issues and some form of domestic abuse on Rosa!Daisy’s part. It’s stuff like this why there’s only a handful of Donsy relationships I like: Her treating him like shit is reduced to a punchline, instead of being used for character growth. It’s also why I’m deeply dreading covering “Legend of the Three Cablleros” at the end of this retrospective. I just don’t like when Disney media treats Daisy expecting too much of Donald or being hyper jealous of him as hilarious and while I take this more as the story not ageing well rather than barks fault, as since then Domestic Abuse against Males has become a more widely known and talked about issue, it still doesn’t’t make it plesant. It just makes this not entirely his fault. Just like it’s not Stan Lee’s fault this panel is both deeply hilarious and uses a now kinda racist term. 

I named an entire youtube channel after that.. we all have our regrets. I also bring it up since currently Harry’s become terrifying villain Kindred... and thus the current big bad of an entire Spider-Man run and the being hopefully bringing one more day into the light and hopefully leading to it’s undoing.. once had a goofy mustache he genuinely referred to a “Fu Manchu Face Fuzz” that for all we know he regrew under the mask. 

Donald fondly remembers the old days of being a badass adventuring team and decides, screw it, let’s go show that Gold Hatted Paloka whose boss.. but being Donald ends up driving them into The Copper Canyon instead. Our heroes end up lost in the canyon and , fitting for Donald get shot at. I can only imagine his thoughts right now. 

Their mysterious attacker threatens them.. before revealing himself to be Panchito, whose glad to see his friends having mistook them for Alfonso. Turns out HE’S the mysterious treasure hunter Alfonoso was after, to no one’s surprise. We get another deeply unfunny “Daisy’s only a thousand miles away gag” as the boys reminisce and get introduced to Panchito’s horse, Senior Martniez. He also tells the boy about his map.. but how he’s hit a snag as the lost town where the silver, from a silver mine.. is now buried under pounds of volcanic rock, a volcano having erupted. This is artistic license as Don Rosa admits there aren’t any known volcano’s in Mexico, but that they also still haven’t found that missing town, so this was his explanation.  All is not lost as Donald’s globetrotting with Scrooge meant he knows his history.. and thus spots an old mission which, at the time, were used by preists as cover for secret mines. Donald naturally bungles his way in and we get the much better running gag of the Cabs thinking Donald did something amazing when he really just wondered into slapstick. They end up down the shaft, with Jose deciding Donald can’t do all the work, and finding a secret entrance under a sanctum sanctorum.. a religious thing I have no idea what it ii s but is clearly where Dr. Strange got the name. Regardless they find some old kegs filled with pure silver. As Panchito puts it: 

And he did ideed. In a nice moment that shows off his character, Panchito has no hesitation for sharing the wealth: He wouldn’t of got this far without his friends, and he wont get the Silver cashed in without their help. He also fires off his guns in celebration.. forgetting their in a cave, a gag I genuinely like. 

After some off screen loading and hoisting, the boys are slowly on their way out of the canyon, with Donald’s Car and Senor Martinez pulling the cart with the silver together. With some downtime the three talk about what they’ll spend the money on. 

About what you’d expect. A big beautiful music venue

For Jose, and a nice ranch to retire at for Panchito. Both despite being wondering souls would love a simple place to call home, in their own personal styles. While they are BIG goals, their also likeable and understandable ones: Jose just wants to stop having to do all these tours and carouse and party and perform at home. Be his own boss, and live his own dreams instead of working for whoever will put up for him. Panchito just wants to retire from being a wondering hero to a peaceful life of farming, an honest reward he well earned. And Donald? 

This is easily one of my faviorite moment’s of Rosa’s, one that really cuts to comic donald’s character: Sure he can be lazy, a trickster, hot tempered, and overconfident.. it’s why we love him.. but at the end of the day he genuinely loves those boys and their his first prority and I can see why the reboot took that trait and made it his defining one. They may annoy and frustrate them and he may pull a switch on them, 50′s after all.. but he loves his boys and knows they’ll do great one day and despite his spendthrift ways when given big money.. their all he can think about. Sure Donald probably has his own personal dreams, but instead of going big and retiring he’d probably just take only a small sliver of that money to open a humble hot dog stand or something, so he could have something of his own to provide them, while still giving most of the money to their college. Scrooge is who we all want to be.. Donald is who we are at our core: Flawed people who just want to do our best. It’s why I love the guy so much.  The boys rest in the small town of El Divisadero, which like the town we started in is a real place, though both are much smaller, even as of 2000 when Rosa made his visit, so he had to embelish slightly. THey stop at a local watering hole only to find Alphonso. While Jose is naturally worried, Gold Hat has moved on to Panchito and wants to know why he’s here. However Donald thinking quickly says he’s part of their nightclub act, and we get a rousing version of the three cablleros, which when reading this I synched up to the song. I won’t put it here, as it’s too big for tumblr and it really works more as a whole, but needless to say, it’s the highlight of the comic. While Rosa did have doubts about putting a musical number in a comic, and it’s often trickey, he makes it work with the energy, vibrance and number of gags, that compensate for the music not being there. There’s tons of great gags, from Donald getting thrown out  window, to the stone faced crowd who only cheers when Alphonso ends the number by whacking the three with one of their own guitars.  Alphonso quickly realizes what’s goin on, finds the silver, and then hyjacks the train. The boys take off after him in the car, as Donald triumphantly states “The Three Cablleros Ride Again!”. The three head after Alphonzo, who finds them when trying to release the other cars to increase speed, and then shoots at them. It seems hopeless... until donald gets launched into the air, into a cactus then back into Alphonzo knocking his guns out in a great bit of slapstick. The Conductor, likely not knowing about the others or not carring, detaches the cars though, so our heroes and villian are now sent rocketing through the world’s most dangerous railway. Which, as you’d probably already figured out, is very real and what inspirited rosa to use this setting and thus indeed wind through dangerous mountainsides and over thin cliffs like a real life Donkey Kong Country level.  Eduardo still has his machete though and easily beats Jose’s umbrella, but some more Donald slapstick and him apologizing to daisy about the senioritis as he wishes her goodbye seriously GET SOME COUPLE’S COUNSELING IF THAT EXISTS IN THE 50′S. It puls his sombrero down over his head, and with jose’s umbrella top landing on it, carries him off where he ends up in a lazy asshole sheirff’s jail for a gag. The boys however continue going back.. and the railway is unfinished at this time in history and while they save the silver, their fucked. But Donald has a plan, running to the back of the cars to get his car, and while it has trouble starting, Panchito throws some chilie’s in the tank to get it moving again.  The boys find the silver.. but when one barrel spills they find out it’s not actual liquid silver.. but quicksilver, which was used for silver refinment. So while i’ts shiny, and toxic so of course Jose sticks his hand in before knowing what it is, it’s worthless. Probably. The boys.. all have a nice laugh over it. I love this moment. Sure the boys lost their dreams.. but like Scrooge, the three belivie theirs always another rainbow. What matters is the journey they had and the reunion that restored their friendship. Donald also muses the boys are smart enough to get their own scholarships anyway, so it’s no big loss.. but he does have to get back to Disvadero as the jamboree ends tonight and Jose agrees as he now needs a job again. The owner balks, understandably since Jose missed a performance to get laid and then disappeared overnight.. but the Hotel Owner is visiting so as long as he can provide a big act he’s good, and while Jose is worried as he already gave them his best, the boys naturally pitch in to be the cablleros once more. After all

So we close on Huey, Dewey and Louie returning, still worrying about donald, when they find him on stage. We then end on a truly heartwarming and great last few panels. 

Final Thoughts: What else can I say? This story is beautifully drawn, as usual for Rosa, well paced, fun and really fleshes the Cabs out from the movie. It has a warm, fun adventurous tone and it’s nice to see Donald in the lead since Rosa usually did Scrooge stories and thus Donald was the justifiably surly sidekick instead of the main man> here he’s in the spotlight and gets to show just what he’s made of, while still being the hilarious mess we all know and love. The story honors the original film well, while forging it’s own path and is beautifully built into history. My only real complaints are the nephews being annoying, Alphonso’s somewhat overwrought accent, and of course the daisy gags.. but it’s all HEAVILY outweighed by one of Rosa’s finest hours and easy enough to ignore. Check this out if you can. It’s a classic for a reason. 

If you liked this review, you can commission your own by messaging me on here or at my discord technicolormuk#655 for five dollars a comic story or animation episode. Whenever the ride resumes next, we’ll coming on down to the house of mouse to see the boys return to the screen. In the meantime keep an eye on this space for regular Ducktales reviews every Monday, including once this run ends as I intend to start playing catchup, loud house reviews whenever, my tom retrospective that’s returning soon, and my retrospective on the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, with chapter 2 of that also coming soon. Until then, there’s always another rainbow. 

[rest-upon-the-morning-light]

JonMartin fic

So I’m trying to get back into fic writing, especially for TMA, and have a multi chapter fic planned but wanted to start with a smaller one shot style fic to warm up. It’s been an age since I’ve written anything, much less something that wasn’t just reader based or smut lmao. I’ve added trigger warnings but if I missed any do let me know! 

Any feedback would be great and if you like this, please send me prompts! Happy to write anything from fluff to smut, just as long as its TMA based :D 

So! Here is my cute fluff JonMartin fic! Enjoy~ 

Everybody Wants To Be A Cat 

Word Count: 2240 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Animal Abuse, but nothing to graphic. Anxiety. Self Worth Issues. Season 1 Jon being Season 1 Jon. Season 1 Martin being Season 1 Martin.

Fandom: The Magnus Archive

Pairings: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood 

Summary: Martin was certain of two things. One, he had an enormous crush on his boss. Two, his boss hated him. Who knew a one eyed beast of an alley cat would bring them closer?

Martin Blackwood has two problems.

Problem number one. He was absolutely certain he was more than a little bit in love with his boss.

Problem number two. His was absolutely certain said boss hated him.

 Well, hated was probably a strong word. Hated implied that Jon thought of him at all, and it was far more likely that Jon thought of him very little throughout his day. Except, of course, when Martin did something wrong. Then those piercing eyes of his would be solely fixed on him whilst he shouted about how inept Martin was or how stupid his mistake had been.

It hurt, those moments. It hurt that the only time Jon ever truly seemed to see Martin was when he was angry at him. Not when Martin did an amazing follow up on a statement. Not when he’d created a great rapport with a statement giver or their family. Not when he brought Jon tea. Just when he did something wrong.

It was a running theme in this annoyance Martin called his life.

He still couldn’t help these feelings though. Jon was an arse half the time that much was true. It infuriated Tim to know end when Jon would lash out at Martin. “He has no right Martin. Mistake or not he’s your boss, he’s supposed to help you, not act like a massive dick all the time”

It was harder for Tim and Sasha in a way. They’d been Jon’s equal for a long time, working together. Moving to the Archive was always going to be a bit of a challenge. To have friend become boss. Especially for Sasha, who everyone thought was going to be become Head Archivist. But neither had held any real resentment over Jon for the change. After all, it wasn’t his choice, it was Elias’s.

But Jon’s sudden shift from rude but mostly recluse and occasionally friendly colleague to rude very recluse and stick constantly up arse boss was harder than any of them expected.

Martin could understand. It was big position and Jon seemed like the type to take everything he did very seriously. This meant holding everything in the archive to a high standard. His assistance included.

So yes, Jon was awful to him a lot of the time. But he was passionate. He cared. For all his blustering that none of this was real, Martin could see how much he empathised with the people who had given those statements. How he looked like he’d personally failed them when a follow up revealed they had died not longer after they’d come to visit the institute.

His crush probably wasn’t the most healthy but sue him! He liked being a bit in love. He liked having inspiration for his poetry. He enjoyed the fluttery feeling in his stomach when he came into work.

He just wished Jon didn’t quite hate. No. Didn’t quite dislike him so much.

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

There is a cat that has been hiding the alleyway behind the Institute for several days now.

Martin noticed the poor thing when he’d been taking out some rubbish that accumulated in the Archive. Usually that sort of thing wasn’t his job, but he’d been done for the day anyway and he liked to be useful, even if no one really noticed.

It was a mangy young thing. Light brown fur matted, one eye seemed to be damaged and it hissed every time Martin so much as approached it.

He couldn’t just leave it though. Poor thing needed help. It was out here, lonely, forgotten, damaged by the people that probably at one point said they’d love and protect it.

Was he projecting onto a stray cat now? God this was a new level of sad.

So he did what someone in his position did best. He researched.

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

There is a surprising number of places to buy cat supplies near the Institute and the workers in the shop were incredibly helpful with his questions.

Approach slowly. Don’t try to touch or hold the cat. Leave out food and water. He’d also bought a small plastic hut and shoved a warm blanket inside for the large cat. He didn’t know what breed it was. Just that it was grumpy and hurt.

It didn’t take a great deal away from his own funds either. His job paid well enough and he didn’t exactly go out with people very often, buying expensive drinks or tickets to shows.

His special treat was usually some sugar drenched coffee.

He couldn’t see any physical injuries on the cat, apart from its eye, so he put some treats in the hut, left out the food and water, then left.

He came back everyday with more supplies to keep the large growling cat comfortable. Every day that passed the cat came a little bit closer to him. He grinned at that. Hoping one day it would come close enough to pet.

He’d read somewhere that when cats blink, once and slow, it was a sign that they trusted you. Martin waited for that day with bated breath.

Tim and Sasha were a little bit suspicious as to where he was going on his lunch breaks. He told them he just taking a long walk, getting some fresh air away from the dusty old archives but he knew it wasn’t the best lie.

Lying for the sake of his job was one thing. Lying to his friends for no good reason was another.

It wasn’t like he doing anything bad. It was more that he wanted this for himself. He wasn’t even too sure why. Part of him wondered if he was worried the cat would somehow take some natural liking to either one of them or both. He didn’t want to lose all his hard work.

Or, if he was being more honest with himself, he didn’t want the cat to abandon him for someone better.

Yeah. New level of pathetic had been reached.

But one lunch, a few weeks after he’d first spotted the broken but massive feline, that the lying and the ill feeling became absolutely worth it.

Because the cat approached him.

Martin didn’t move a single muscle. He was sat on a small wooden box in the alley. Far enough away as to not frighten the poor thing, but close enough that the cat could make contact if it wanted to.

And today it did.

He held his breath the closer it got, keeping eye contact with its good eye the whole time. It paused for a moment, right in the front of his bent legs, before it let out a small mirp noise and butted its head against his knee.

“Oh hello” Martin laughed, chest feeling lighter than it had in an exceptionally long time.

He reached out his hand slowly to pet its head and let out another sign of relief when the one eyed cat let him.

“Well” he began

“I can’t very well keep calling you cat or beast in my head, you’ll need a name”.

It didn’t acknowledge his words in any way, just continued to let him scratch behind its ears and watched him with its one working eye. He could almost imagine its thoughts.

“Silly Martin, just come up with one already. Stop wasting time”.

He let out a soft chuckle at the thought, a name ready on his lips.

“Jon” he smiled gently.

“I think I’ll call you Jon”.

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

 It went well after that. Martin made plans to keep the cat. It would help the dreariness of his lonely flat, and he was lucky his landlord allowed pets in his building.

He couldn’t afford proper insurance but the workers at the pet shop knew an emergency vet that wasn’t too expensive, so he could get Cat Jon’s eye checked out soon.

Giddy as he was with his newfound friend, he didn’t realise that he’d been less subtle than usual about where he was going on his break.

It was one grey, wet Wednesday that it all came to ahead.

He’d been sitting crossed legged on the ground, his coat below him as a sort of makeshift blanket to keep his trousers dry, when Human Jon found them.

He hadn’t even noticed Jon had followed him until the backdoor that led the alley burst open with a bang that echoed down the narrow way.

“Martin” shouted Jon, looking at some papers in his hand.

“I need you to take your lunch late and follow up on this report. You made several errors in your research that, frankly, a child could spot. I don’t know what you’re doing out here but if you have time to sit around then –“

Jon’s rant was cut short as he finally looked up to the picture that greeted him.

Cat Jon had leaped into his arms from the loud noise, clinging to Martin’s bright yellow sweater.

Martin froze, cat in arms as Jon stared at him with a look of equal shock.

“Oh” began Jon softly

“Sorry” Martin practically shouted.

“I – eh – this is, well um, a cat, I found? A few weeks ago, actually. I’ve been sort of taking care of it? Getting it food and water and um” he gestured to the plastic hut and blanket he’d laid out.

“He was hurt you see. Only one eye and really badly taken care of. Abandoned, I recon. So I’ve been out here on lunches making sure he’s, um, that he’s okay? Is that..is that alright?” he trailed off nervously.

He couldn’t look at Jon. It wasn’t exactly something to be ashamed of, taking care of a stray cat. But he could imagine Jon being the sort of serious no nonsense person who would see it as a waste of time, his lunch break or not. God would this make his relationship worse? Would Jon scold him for it? Did it make him seem more pathetic than before? Christ, was that even possible?

He didn’t notice the movement until Jon was sat beside him on the floor.

Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, sat on a dirty alley floor with Martin K Blackwood.

He watched with bated breath as Human Jon reached his hand out to Cat Jon and let out a small sound of relief when Cat Jon didn’t bite, scratch or run away.

“You poor thing” murmured Jon, eyes only on his (unknowing) cat counterpart.

“What have they done to you? Well, you look better now than you probably did before. Thank to our Martin here”.

Martin couldn’t help but blush deeply at that. Hot all over his face. He couldn’t handle this. Jon being all, all soft and gentle and calling him “our” Martin.

“You’ve been taking care of him then?” Jon looked up at Martin now. Eyes soft and kind for once. It nearly took all of Martins brain power to respond after receiving such a look.

“Yes” he began.

“Like I said, I found him a few weeks ago. Planning on taking him back to mine soon, get him out of the cold properly”.

Jon nodded, eyes never leaving Martins, hand firmly petting the cat in Martins arms.

“I’m sorry, about the work” Martin nervously bit his lip.

“I’ve been really worried about him so I rushed it to get out here on time. It’s no excuse and I know you don’t exactly think highly of my work in the first place. I’ll make sure I stay late tonight so I can catch up”

“Martin” interrupted Jon, eye straying on the bitten lip, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t been fair to you these past few months. It’s been unprofessional at best and, well, and downright cruel at worst”

“Your job is stressful” Martin tried to defend

“And we both know I’m not exactly at the same standard at the others”

“Still” Jon continued.

“It’s my job to help you, not, berate you at every mistake. You came from the library, not research, so you have different skill set and – well, its been hard for us all. Not fair of me to put all that blame on you. God knows Tim could stand to be a bit more professional at times” Jon grumbled out the last part, a small pout to his lips.

Martin laughed at that, smiling wider than he could last remember.

“Tim just likes to keep you human, I think” he winked and watched with fascination as the flush came back to Jon’s dark cheeks.

Cat Jon leap out of his arms after that, toddling off to who knows where.

“Well” Martin began, getting up from his cross legged position on the floor.

“We still have time for lunch, we could, um, maybe eat together? If that’s okay I mean! You could help me figure out a name for him?” “You don’t have one already?” replied Jon, surprise in his voice “Uhhh not any suitable ones, no” Martin laughed awkwardly.

He couldn’t exactly say he’d name the poor blighter after Jon. He doubted Jon would take it as a compliment and he didn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’d stumbled onto.

He held out his hand to help Jon off the floor. Jon eyed it, before bringing his own hand up and placing it into Martins larger ones. Martin pulled him up and held back a small gasp as Jon shot forward quicker than intended, his smaller hand landing on Martin chest.

Jon looked up at him, a small shy smile gracing his lips.

“Beautiful” Martin couldn’t help but think, face and ears bright red.

Jon pulled back, coughing every so slightly into his fist.

“Yes, well, I’ve named a cat or two in my time, it won’t be too hard” “Oh?” teased Martin

“What about Magnus? We did find him here” Jon shook his head at that, crinkling his nose slightly.

“Absolutely not, something more dignified. The Captain maybe?” “Captain?” countered Martin

“The Captain” continued Jon as they began to head back inside

“I suppose the one eye does give him a bit of a pirate look” Martin couldn’t help by laugh slightly as he said it.

“Yes” Jon laughed back

“Dignified but still fitting his nature” And off they went, back into the Institute. Unaware of any monstrous eyes watching them as they simply watched each other. A new, wonderful feeling developing between them.

Neither noticed that they still held each others hands as they made their way to the break room.

And if they spoke of cat names, and toys and flushed deeply when they did notice the hands still entwined, well.

Those moments were only for them.

[thebittyrecoveryjournals]

This might not related to any bitty therapy in particular.... From what I gathered, you believe Bitties to be sentient. The whole Regular Monster but Small thing. If so, don't you think it's illegal to put them on sale (or 'adoption' center)? I'm planning to revolutionize the 'bitty' society and just called them Monster, cause bitty sale is just slavery sugar coated in cutesy fake wholesome façade. Are you in?

Yes, Bitties are definitely sentient and sapient, I've learned from firsthand experience! They really are just tiny monsters.

On one hand, I do agree that a lot of the whole industry and trade is corrupted, especially the places that have them for sale outright. The adoption centers are actually a bit better to me, because they're usually not in it for the money and they tend to have Bitties' best interests at heart most of the time, kind of like a cross between a pet shelter and an adoption agency.

On the other hand, I think that because humans (and other monsters, actually) breeding Bitties for so long has made it difficult to untangle things in a big way. Humans and bigger monsters have been breeding these little guys for a long time, to the point where a big chunk of them are bred to want to be companions to humans; which, in turn, makes it hard for them to accept that they don't have to be, in a lot of cases. That in particular is going to take a lot of work to undo. It's not impossible, but it won't be easy or instant.

There are differences between larger monsters and Bitties, not just size, and they're mostly the result of breeding, but also some of them just have this natural instinct to seek out human companionship. I don't think the name needs to be entirely done away with, because it's a descriptor, sort of like you'd describe any other monster by their attributes like 'skeleton monster' or 'fire monster'. Though it certainly would be a nice step to add it for something like 'Bitty monster', maybe? I usually just use Bitty because it's a good shorthand that most people recognize.

Definitely agree with most of what you're saying, of course! Bitties being sold in pet stores and stuff has never sat well with me, so I think it's a good first step to be trying to get laws passed that keep them out of the pet trade. Some of them do like being treated as pets, but it really shouldn't be the default. Thankfully, there are a lot of laws now being put into effect that realize Bitties are more people than pets, so hopefully that will ban them from being sold in pet stores.

Adoption centers do a lot of good, though. My center is actually sort of an adoption center in that once I feel that a Bitty is ready to be released from regular therapy sessions, I do house them here until someone adopts them. Like I said, adoption centers for Bitty monsters are like a cross between foster care and an adoption agency, looking after these guys and facilitating adoptions. Based on my personal experience, most Bitties who get adopted out from an adoption center go to good homes which meet their personal needs and wants.

Some of them aren't great, but then the issue is holding them all the same standards we hold foster care and human adoption agencies, performing regular inspections to make sure they're meeting those standards, and having consequences for the bad centers. Sometimes these places are the only options for some Bitties, so I don't think this kind of resource should just be taken away completely. Reform is always good, though!

Above all I really think it's important to respect whatever the Bitties want. Some of them do want to be pets, and some of them don't. They need to be heard and listened to and have their wishes respected, whatever those wishes might be. Just like some humans might prefer to have lots of roommates, and some might prefer to not have any, they need to have the choice.

I'm in for a lot of this! Though I do want to make it clear that I don't think excessive violence is the way to do it, so I hope that isn't in your plan! Some violence can serve its purpose, but it needs to be balanced with peace.

On the whole, count me in for lots of negotiation and protests! Most of the pet stores near me have already banned the sale of Bitties in their stores... so, while change is slow at the moment, it certainly is happening. Anything constructive I can do to speed it along, put me down for!

(... As long as it doesn't interfere with Blueberry's bedtime story. 💙)

[asheelnair]

PERSONAL BLOG :-)

 Asheel Nair (Me18b101)

Course - MS4100 ( Soft skills)

First of all thanks Viji Ma'am to teach this wonderful course and making me understand and help me to grow and realize my skills that will help me personally as well as in professional growth.

1)   Meaning and Purpose 

 It was a very great session to attend as it gave a lot of insights about life and insisted us to find our true worth and value of life in this world.

There is a statement which touched me very much- “Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.”

We are all hungry for meaning, for purpose, for the feeling that our life is worth more than the sum of its parts. We can find meaning in the sublime, in the absurd, in the dull and dreary, and in the perfectly wretched in life. That's when Viji came up with the word 'ikigai'- Combining the Japanese words iki, meaning life and gai, meaning value or worth, ikigai is essentially about finding your purpose in life.  for exampe- Ikigai means “the reason you wake up for in the morning”

Then Viji told us to write our purpose of life in our book :-

What i love most- Video Games, family, friends, dogs

What i am good at - Maintaining relations, consulting

What can i get paid for - Consulting job or maybe some unexplored fields(who knows xD)

what the world needs- world is selfish and everyone wants profit in each and everything they do, the current world needs humanity and needs to develop a sense of empathy and helping nature.

Always know your true worth and realize it because it is only you know your true worth and value and always be grateful for who you are.

2) The '5S' principle 

:- It was the first time i came across this principle and trust me it was worth it :)

What are the 5 principles of 5S?

 5S stands for the 5 steps of this methodology: Sort, Set in Order, Shine, Standardize, Sustain. 

5S is designed to decrease waste while optimizing productivity through maintaining an orderly workplace which will help you bring positive thinking and productive solution.

Application - I applied this principle in my room which was dirty and messes up. I cleaned everything and kept everything in a proper way. After implying this principle it felt very comforting and nice.

3) Time-Management 

 It is one of the crucial factors to live a peaceful life without any tension and stress. The person who has time management skills are very calm and comforting and always live a peaceful life. Everyone has the same 24 hours, however, some make better use of their time than others. This is one of the reasons why we have people who excel at the things they do. In other words, people may become busy; but that necessarily does not mean they are effective at their task. Hence, time management plays a crucial role in personal and professional life.

 Time management may be a conscious effort to spend a selected amount of your time to perform a task efficiently . Furthermore, productivity is the key focus here. The more productive the work, the higher are the results. Moreover, time management requires a careful balancing between business life , social life, the other hobbies or activities. From an academic perspective, time management is a necessity. Students have many subjects to hide , therefore, efficiently managing time is a crucial skill.

The main problem we all face is the lack of time. Having so many things to do and yet not enough time to do them all. Through my conversations with many, I realized that I was not the only one facing this issue. This was when I realized sharpening my activity management skills becomes important. Though many people may call it ‘time management, I believe activity management is a better term because we can’t manage time but we can manage our activities each day. The reality is many people drift through life and allow themselves to be carried by the waves. We all have a choice to take control of our activities and reach our fullest potential. 

so use your time wisely by sorting important things first by realizing the importance of time in your life and seeing the benefits of time management.

As it is said " Time and Tide wait for none" , make sure you make each and every second count and create a change for a greater tomorrow.

I even talked with few people who I believe is very efficient in time management and asked them their secret mantra :P , example - My friend :-

– All good things take time and so does your goal, some achieve goals faster while some take their time.  You need to be vocal and loud about your goal, aim and thoughts. Always have a positive mindset and be ready to face any challenges thrown at your goals. You should always be open minded and appreciate every small thing that makes you reach your goal. She thinks that the importance of setting goals comes with maturity and responsibility and you need to figure out what things comes first in your life.

4) Strength based Learning - All the above factors can be included while finding about our personal strength based learning. sit down for few minutes and think about your strengths and weaknesses. For me-Strengths-based learning involves a process of assessing which helps us to identify our greatest talents, and to then develop and apply strengths based on those talents in the process of learning, intellectual development, and academic achievement to levels of personal and professional excellence.

As it is said " champions are not born they are trained and nourished with care to become a champion", Skills do not naturally exist within us; they must be acquired through training and practice. The concept of strengths is based in each individual’s unique nature and building upon what he or she naturally does best. Takeaway-After this session  I realized I have strengths with which I can create a change for better tomorrow and life is too long to explore, learn and develop. I would always like to explore my strengths and work on it and inspire others to play on their strengths. Thanks Viji for this wonderful session :)

5) Communication  

It is something because of which I faced conflicts in past, For me -signaling benevolence in communication seems vital than harsh-naked truth as it can sometimes product in fright, strain or spite in developing long-lasting relationships with family or at workplace. Blunt honesty can sometimes be rebellious whereas benevolence aids in handling difficult situations ethically by breeding trust and in boosting one’s morale. It enables one to be mindful of consequences and frame things in a way that is different from complete unvarnished truth- which in turn fosters relationships and other developments.

Thanks to Abha ma'am and Viji ma'am to take up this session and making it a wonderful experience. Salute to both of you for your professionalism and are dedicated to your work, was truly amazed to see this.

Presentation- The three 's' -structure, style and substance were covered in this. There were many other factors that were taught which helped me to learn, incorporate those and make my skills even stronger. Learned a lot on how to communicate, make a presentation and how to present yourself in front of people, all thanks to Abha ma'am.

Assertive Communication - Assertiveness means expressing your point of view in a way that is clear and direct, while still respecting others. Communicating in an assertive manner can help you to: minimize conflict. The 3 C's Of Assertive Communication are Confidence – you believe in your ability to handle a situation. Clear – the message you have is clear and easy to understand. Controlled – you deliver information in a calm and controlled manner. Passive communication and behavior involves allowing your own rights to be violated by failing to express honest feelings, thoughts, and beliefs, or by expressing your thoughts and feelings in an apologetic manner that others can easily disregard.

Few steps for assertive communication :

1.Tell the person what you think about their behavior without accusing them. 

2. Tell them how you feel when they behave a certain way. 

3. Tell them how their behavior affects you and your relationship with them. 

4. Tell them what you would prefer them to do instead.  

6) Self Realization

This was a very good session and topic. During the first 5 min we were told to take out a mirror or front camera and look yourself in it for few minutes and write down whatever comes into your mind. when i saw myself i could see that there is a fire burning within myself that want's to achieve each and every goal, I realized i will soon conquer each and every challenges in my way and make my parents and myself proud.

 Then we came on the topic of 

 Body shaming :

   It is something that i feel is cheap and very immature. Without knowing what the other person is going through people criticize them and laugh at them. Individuals with a history of trauma, depression, self-harm, low self-esteem, or borderline personality disorder are more likely to be affected by body shaming and potentially develop an eating disorder or engage in self-harm behavior.

 Empowerment doesn’t just refer to professional success and financial stability but also the overall personality development of an individual. Empowering yourself requires you to confront your problems but not bow down to them. It involves you being open to changing your views based on your own personal experience. Hence, if you’re not changing and sticking to what you’ve been told by society, you’re keeping yourself away from empowerment.

 When it comes to our views, we have plenty of them pertaining to our own selves. A majority of them are concerned with how we look. From television to magazine, most women have grown up being told that the perfect girl is slim, fair, humble, docile and quiet.

But, what about those women who are plus-sized, have a deformity, have too many tattoos or are too outspoken? The society might not find them palatable enough to call them perfect but who gave society that right, anyway? The only person who gets to decide is you. You need to shed societal expectations and accept every bit of yourself.

Takeaway - Don't live by fearing of someone's judgement, Everyone has a beautiful body on this planet, all are different that is the beauty of this world. "Embrace it don't hide it"

Snake and Ladder in our life :-

Ladder here refers to all the supports in your life who encourage you to achieve something great in your life while snake refers to all the challenges that is stopping you to achieve your goals.

Ladder and goals - 

 Family, friends and dear ones

Get into a dream company that recognizes my     talent and reach a good position where one day i can become a leader

Want to buy a luxurious home to my parents and     want to give them everything whatever they ask for

Buy a dream car

Building shelter homes for animals

Do something for orphans and rural people

Reach at a height where i become a role model     for few

Build a dream  PC gaming set-up, xD 

Want to travel the world (each and every     corner)

Want to learn calisthenics

And many more.............  :P

 Snakes -

Negative people

Procrastination. “I will do it later” is often     equivalent to “I will never do it,” though that is never the real     intention behind procrastinating something

Fear of Failure

Ignorance

Lack of Purpose

Lack of Courage

Fault Finding

Lack of Self-belief             Takeaway -

[thecrazyworldbuilder]

Knownlands

(this is my first try writing a story in english, don’t judge me much, I still won’t take your criticism.)

Terry Mairondil Notasmith was a human. But, despite being such, he needed a certificate which proved that. Why? Because the bastard was looking like an elf.

Terry was born a human in a family of Jackven and Liana Smith. His father Jackven was a fair person from the family whose profession at general through generations was working with metal. In other words: smithing. What occured next was pretty awkward: with the birth of Terry Jackven and Liana became separated from their families, because of the thing known as “traditions”. Which in reality was nothing but a hassle between Terry’s grandfather and Terry’s father.

...after the argument with his father, Jackven spit him into the face and said he didn’t want to wear his family name anymore, and that he never wanted to be a smith. From then, Jackven Smith became Jackven Not-A-Smith, and after that Jackven Notasmith.

Terry was a human. A little, rarely ill but skinny child that was always in trouble or at least some situation that could be called an adventure. When the skinny child became an even more skinny young man, Terry Notasmith somehow made his way to college.

Well, it wasn’t really a college. It was more like a big ruined library where once teachers of magic, languages and sciences were settling. The place was known as Airaheren, which in rough quenya meant “The Old Order”. Sometimes, among locals, it was called Airahacca, which in the same rough quenya translation meant “The Old Ass”.

This place consisted of an old library with a hole in the roof. Well, that’s what everyone was saying. Actually it was a whole little town of ruins. The reason everyone was mentioning only the library was that it was the only thing seen from a distance. No one ever wanted to come near the town, at least because of the smell. That rich, dense smell of rotting wood and unpleasant fog.

No matter how much the students and the teachers (Although there was no real difference between both fractions: if you were able to teach someone something he can’t do you were automatically granted the rank of a teacher. The idiots who came there hoping they will learn everything about the world and his mysteries in fact learned how to bake perfect pancakes out of almost nothing but flour and water, knot, play goblin stab-eye poker and be a farmer out of sheer hunger.) tried to keep the books safe from moist and other damage, almost half the pages of every single book were rewritten from memory and fixed so many times they were almost incoherent. And knowing the people in the Old Order weren’t well and good in terms of grammar, not talking about foreing languages, the instructions were always unclear.

Airaheren was called this way by the gang of teachers with real education who survived college just because they sat in the far corner and their professors didn’t even suspect they existed. So yeah, they gathered there in the ruined town and said something like “Fuck academics, let’s edu ‘em villagers and pals ‘round ‘ere for “free”!” Basically they soon became the aristocracy of the town, but very fastly after that died from the unintendedly poisoned meals. I mean, they weren’t even cooked right.

“The Old Ass is the worst place to live, lad-” Said someone to Terry Notasmith. “-unless someone’s a bastard idiot like you.”

Jackven Notasmith was a horseman. He had a little farm with horses where he was breeding them and training to be good horses. A good horse is the one that will develop trust in his master. To achieve that, Jackven gave his horses such a treatment they were ready to serve anyone but him.

The birthday gift on Terry’s sixteenth birthday was a horse called Cab, which was short for Cabbage. The criteria Jackven was giving his horses names was simple: the level of their intellect. Cabbage had as many brain cells as an average cabbage had.

With Cabbage Terry left his father’s farm for good, for the reason the slim young man was always hungry and was threatening to make his father bankrupt, because he was paying the cooking lady Gin for every meal she cooked for the family. Meaning he had to pay twice.

Terry’s second name is in quenya, and means “A friend of horse/Horse’s friend”. He chose it because he thought it sounded cool and would fit him well.

Four out of five people in the Old Ass had a second name they made up themselves. Let me give you several examples of what their names meant in general: “Great King Gold”, “Black Bird”, “The Most Beautiful”, “The Most Great and Beautiful”, and the most interesting name out of all was Ainoculomornaingaran, which translated as “Godgolddarkking”.

The Old Ass was a foggy place in a valley filled with woods. The once ruined by unknown cause unknown city was fixed to the point of “...well you can’t say it is deserted now eh?”.

Terry was a human. But he was looking like an elf. Not only looking like an elf, but smelling like an elf, feeling like an elf and, after all, being an elf. The only problem was that it was an accident and nothing more - he never wanted to be an elf. A magical accident on one of the transformation classes and poof - he is an elf.

Shapeshifting, polymorphing and transformation. Oh yeah, there is a difference. Shapeshifting was changing not the shape only but the material. You see, a shapeshifter can turn himself into a female, for example, or to turn into some different species. But the problem would be the essence would stay the same: a creature capable of changing its form. You will look like an elf for example but won’t be one in fact. Polymorping is turning anything into anything by changing everything. Like, to turn a rat into a glass for wine. The deal was the rat’s soul would be still intact. Meaning, the glass will think, and it will think it is a rat. And then comes Transformation: it means you change everything and all and the essence. You could turn a human into an elf, and they will feel like one, they will behave like one as if they were always like that. (Actually the mages weren’t fully understanding the differences between all the types of turning one thing into another. There were many fancy words like transmutation, morphing, photoshopping… And et cetera.)

You can get one and the same result by going different ways. As you can go to the food store by foot, on a horseback, or else more creative ways. You can take different paths and all, and that’s the thing. Same goes with magic. You can turn a man into a frog, says a witch, by turning most of the material in his body into air and the small part into the needed shape (that is the reason some transformations are followed by a slight blow of wind, which strength demands on the difference in size of the shape before the transformation and after.) or you could condense the material and turn it all into one big and heavy frog size of a large yoga ball.

Alright, er, Terry was an elf now. And then his second name came in handy, and it was, counting by elven standards, pretty normal, just unusual. If a normal elven name was Jon, then Mairondil was something like Humpfrey. On the other hand, the names of the students living in the Old Ass would sound the same way as if you called your son Frying Pan, or The Obsolete King. The range, I agree, was wide.

Yoga balls in Knownlands were made out of the strange material called maxas, coming from the realm of Abyss, and the most close thing it was familiar to was wood resin. Though the ripoffs of yoga balls were made from the bladder of very big boars and covered in the mentioned above wood resin.

Terry Mairondil Notasmith was missing sleeping. Yeah, he could close his eyes, but no, his thoughts were always clean and reasonable. Even alcohol didn’t help. The reasonableness of his thoughts were slowly making him ask himself “Why in the name of gods I am in this place?” more and more times a day. Now, he was questioning himself approximately fifteen times a minute.

...it was a misty, like, a really misty morning when everyone in the Old Ass was sleeping as tight as corpses. Cabbage neighed loudly, received a professionally delivered slap on the rear from Terry (who didn’t sleep this night but was forced to lay in his bed because “Dude turn off th’fuckin’ ‘andle, whatcha doing? Readin’? Y’can read? Oh. Then fuck you. Go sleep. And I don’t ‘are you’re an elf now y’sonuva pineapple.”), and when his beloved master sat in the saddle, started making his way as far away as possible from the Old, Stinking Ass (Airaima Horrofanyada-Hacca in rough quenya translation, of course.)

Terry had a great plan, an incredible plan. It was: to get out of the freaking town and catch the spirit of adventures by its tail and hold it, letting it carry him anywhere where he would feel happy.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

After the Lantern festival at Valtoria, Madeleine returns to Karlingford to start arranging her stage of the Charity Tour, and questions Adelaide about her recent absence from Cordonia. Both Liam and Olivia are under pressure.

Word Count 3030

A/N Warnings - body shaming and anxiety feature in this chapter. No smut but still Not suitable for under 18s

16 Under Pressure

The lantern festival had been a roaring success, and the Valtorian orphanage had gained some much needed funds. Liam’s popularity had increased and he had been seen publicly with Olivia. It made up somewhat for the dilemma with Anton, but there was still an ugly undercurrent. At Bastien’s suggestion, he had made tentative enquiries as to where he could go in the case of having to go into exile. Monaco was open to receiving him, but he found the country extravagant and claustrophobic. He thought perhaps one of the smaller neighbouring countries might be amenable. He did not like the pompous King Bradshaw of Auvernal, and Queen Amalas of Monterisso was friendly, but he thought she might propose more than just a friendly place to stay, and could expect a marriage agreement as they were of a similar age and both single. Greece, on the other hand, was a possibility and he wondered if he could retreat to the United States or to the United Kingdom.

If he had to take the option of exile, what would that mean for Olivia? She did not want to leave her Duchy leaderless, but equally had no desire to be Queen to Anton Severus. He had sent requests for her to visit him at his place of detention, all of which she turned down. Lucretia, after cooperating with Lewis and Damien, refused to say anything else. Her position was complicated. Perhaps if Anton gained the throne, she could claim that hiring the gunman had been in an attempt to aid his claim. On the other hand, it certainly put a dent in his plans and he had had to retreat and  regroup. It was anyone’s guess how he might react if he discovered she had hired the gunman in the cathedral.

Liam and Olivia, Drake and Riley, Bastien and Sophia and Lady Hana Lee stayed at Valtoria for another few days. The next stop on the charity tour was Portaviera, home of Lady Penelope’s family. The duchy had a substantial coastline and had recently suffered from damage after a bad storm with strong winds. The charity event was to be a fashion show.

‘So the King told me you can tell your wishes after you’ve lost sight of your lantern’ Sophia told Bastien over breakfast. He raised an eyebrow at her

‘I’m not risking it’ he replied ‘You know I keep many secrets’

‘But this is just a small one, just a bit of fun’ she wheedled. He shook his head

‘It’s a matter of principle’ he said ‘and much as you are itching to tell me, I suggest you keep yours secret too’ Sophia sighed. She had hoped Bastien would share what he wanted for his future, though she was pretty sure it involved her, as he often told her. She ramped up her game by slipping off her shoe and stretching her leg out to rub his ankle with her bare toes, despite the fact that today they were taking breakfast in the dining room rather than in their quarters. For a change, Sophia had been the first one to wake, though not by much, as Bastien woke at any noise in daylight hours. They had made love leisurely and made the decision to go down to the dining room before they did so again. He glared at her

‘Stop trying, Sophia, I have my work head on’ He finished his coffee and got up. ‘Don’t wait at lunch, I’ll probably be busy’ Sophia rolled her eyes, knowing he was immovable, and stood to fetch another round of toast.

------

‘I’m sorry you’re feeling queasy’ Liam said to Olivia as she sat drinking black coffee looking out of the window. They were having breakfast privately, and he had an appointment soon with Bastien to go over the travel plans for the following day. Olivia made a face.

‘You’d almost call it morning sickness’ she said in an irritated tone. Liam stopped chewing and stared at her.

‘How reliable are those tests?’ he asked. She looked back at him sharply.

‘Pretty much bang on’ she replied ‘Although my monthly was rather light’

‘Can you get hold of another one?’ Liam asked. He saw her already pale face go a little whiter.

‘That might be tricky’ she replied ‘We’re only just letting ourselves be seen in public. If anyone finds out I’m taking pregnancy tests it would be unsettling to say the least’ The matter of her betrothal to Anton hung in the air between them, unspoken.

‘I’m sure if we ask, someone could help get one – perhaps Lady Hana, or Riley – or Sophia’ he said.

‘Hana’s not even dating’ she pointed out ‘I couldn’t be pregnant, surely’

‘Well, we are trying, and I expect few tests are one hundred per cent reliable’ Liam smiled ‘It would at least put your mind at rest, and if you really are expecting – well I promise you I will stand by you and do my very best to make things as easy as I can’

‘If I am, and Anton finds out…’ she started. She slammed her coffee cup onto the table and balled her fists by her sides ‘Bastard, why does everything have to be so complicated?’ Liam got up and went to her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He hesitated to hold her, knowing her independent and fiery nature.

‘I’m here for you, Livvy’ he said assuringly. ‘We’ll cope, whatever happens’

------

Anton had nobody to talk over his thoughts with that he trusted, so he muttered to himself in the apartment in the imposing mansion that looked out over the sea. The sky was a dull grey, and scudding waves spread white patterns across the water.

‘Think, why is the upstart King so convinced he can succeed in keeping his title?’ he mused. ‘If I was in his position I’d eliminate the opposition. Either he’s weak, or he’s put me here to dispose of me out of sight’ He glowered over the racing white horses beyond the sheer cliffs. ‘If he doesn’t intend to get rid of me, he must either have proof that my claim is false, or will forge evidence. Even if he does refute it, he still needs an heir.’ He ran his fingers through his black hair ‘Who would he attempt to impregnate?’

His mind worked at the problem and he continued in silence, wondering if the apartment was bugged. That bitch American was one candidate, but would Cordonia accept a common foreigner? He didn’t think so. Lady Madeleine had been a strong contender, and he had seen to it that her mother had met an untimely end in Monaco. He was unaware that attempt had failed, so his train of thought went on. Would the King understand that was a warning that he had contacts that were dangerously close to him? Presumably Madeleine would be too grief stricken to pursue her ambition to be Queen by Liam’s side.

That left Olivia. He smiled at the thought that he had already thwarted any ideas Liam might have of making her his Queen. Liam had nowhere to go to – he was clutching at straws and would fail, and it would not be long before the country welcomed King Anton of house Severus. He went back to his original thought that his life could be in danger. He made a note to his lawyer to demand a larger entourage befitting his status. He wanted his own bodyguard and security team, and he knew where to recruit them. The throne was almost in his grasp.

------

Adelaide and Madeleine had gone from Valtoria to her father’s manor at Karlington, and he had begrudgingly returned from England in the middle of the English racing season to attend a council meeting concerning Anton’s claim. They were next on the charity tour after Portaviera, and there was much planning and preparation to do for the childrens’  cancer department in Krona’s hospital, which needed funding for specialist nurses. Unusually they were hosting a polo match, which was usually held in Portaviera, but due to the storm damage they had called it off in favour of the fashion show.

‘Bloody charity causes’ he grumbled ‘I don’t know why they think they can come begging to their betters. They should manage their affairs more efficiently’

‘We’ll garner popular opinion if we give more support to childhood cancer’ Madeleine pointed out, but her father snorted in disgust.

‘Who cares about that?’ he snapped ‘As long as the commoners pay their taxes and don’t cause any trouble I couldn’t give a fig what they think. What counts is keeping up the high standards the King and other nobles expect from our Duchy’ Madeleine sighed and passed her hand over her forehead.

‘Just leave it to me, father’ she said. He looked at her pointedly

‘I suppose it might make that whippersnapper think twice about rejecting you as his suitor’ he said thoughtfully ‘After all, he’s still not chosen anyone yet, and you’re good breeding stock’ Madeleine pursed her lips. She knew it was futile to engage him when he was in a mood like this, and let the sting of his words bounce off her, but unusually Adelaide sprang to her defence.

‘She’s not a farm animal, Geoffrey’ she pointed out ‘Maddy’s more than just a means to your delusions of grandeur.’

‘Delusions?’ her father spat ‘I am certainly not deluded about the quality of my bloodline. I suppose I should be glad you spat out female progeny before your ovaries gave up the ghost’ Madeleine saw the tears spring to her mother’s eyes. She knew tonight she would drown her sorrow in alcohol – perhaps she’d be raiding the drinks cabinet sooner than that. That left her to make all the arrangements as usual. Never mind, she told herself, at least that was something she was good at. Her father turned on his heel to leave the room.

‘I’m off to the golf course’ he said over his shoulder ‘Don’t bother setting dinner for me, I’ll eat at the club’ Adelaide slumped.

‘I’m so sorry Maddy, your father shouldn’t talk about you like that. I know you blame me for not standing up for you – for making you think you were only fit for one thing. But what else could I do? You’re my only child’ she stepped up to her and reached out as if to touch her cheek, but her hand fell away. ‘I only want you to be happy’

‘I don’t think you have much control over that’ Madelaine sniffed. ‘Now, are you going to hit the bottle, or help me with the garden party after the polo match?’

--------

Later that evening at Karlingford, her father had returned late and gone straight to his room. He and Adelaide had separate bedrooms, and that had been the case for as long as Madeleine could recall. She remembered running into her mother’s bedroom once in the morning as a child when her father was away, only to find her with a man she didn’t know. After that, her mother’s door remained locked, and the young girl had to wait for her nanny to come and fetch her for breakfast. She never went into her father’s room as he disliked her ‘fawning’ on him as he put it.

Adelaide had managed to abstain from drinking before the evening meal, at which only she and Madeleine sat at the long table in the grand dining room. Her father insist that they eat there when he was resident, even if he was dining elsewhere himself. She watched her mother gulp down her first glass, waving at the serving staff just to leave the bottle in front of her rather than hover to fill her glass. She appeared to spend more time drinking than eating, and Madeleine sipped at her mineral water as she ate. The sound of their cutlery on the fine china plates made a sharp clattering sound that echoed round the huge room.

‘Darling you should eat more’ Adelaide remarked ‘You’re too thin. Men like a little meat on the bones you know, don’t model yourself on all those skinny models’ Madeleine stiffened

‘I’d rather be appraised for something other than my physical appearance, mother’ she said curtly. Adelaide waved her glass in the air.

‘I know that appearances shouldn’t matter, sweetie, but it helps.’ She leaned toward her, elbows on the table – a terrible faux pas her father would have frowned at. ‘You’ve always been well turned out – neat, tidy, modest, and you dress impeccably’ Madelaine sighed as the last of the dishes were cleared – the meal had ended with fresh fruit and sorbet, a favourite of her mothers which she tolerated. Adelaide got up unsteadily and picked up the wine bottle and her now empty glass.

‘Time for the staff to lock up’ she announced ‘Your father’s in his room so I suppose that’s it for the night’ Madeleine nodded and gestured to the serving staff to follow instructions. She saw that now might be a good time to question her mother about her recent absence.

‘Shall we go into the lounge, mother?’ she asked innocently ‘You can look over the garden plans and see what you think of the marquee arrangements.’ Adelaide smiled brightly – the idea of spending time with her daughter obviously appealed to her.

‘Okay darling, let’s do that’ she replied. Madeleine nodded to the staff

‘Ask Maria to fetch the binder from my study would you?’ she asked. She didn’t want to lose sight of her mother in case she forgot where she was going in her alcoholic daze. She rose and went to her, gently taking her elbow and steering her in the right direction. Her mother smiled fondly and patted her hand.

‘You always were such a good child, Maddy’ she rambled ‘I know your father was strict with you, but I never had to say a cross word to you, darling’ Madeleine cringed, remembering drunken rants and times when her father scolded or disciplined her and her mother stood by. It took only moments to get to the huge lounge, high ceilinged, with windows looking out over the lawns and tasteful vintage décor – vintage in the sense that much of the furniture was antique and priceless.

Adelaide had difficulty focussing on the plans her daughter showed her, but she wasn’t worried about that. She continued to drink the contents of the wine bottle she had brought with her.

‘Mother, can’t you tell me what happened when you were away?’ she asked ‘I was worried about you, you know’ Her mother squinted at her.

‘What happened?’ she queried, and screwed her face up as if she was having trouble remembering. ‘Oh, well – that nice young man with Bas – Bastien’ she was having difficulty saying his name and hiccupped slightly ‘He said he’d take care of everything. I didn’t want to press charges, though he said I should’ here she looked suddenly melancholy ‘I didn’t want you to be ashamed of me’ She swayed slightly despite being seated on the antique chaise longue next to the marble fireplace.

‘Press charges? What for?’ Madeleine asked as her mother tipped her glass to her lips and emptied it. She put it back down on the table with a thump.

‘You know’ she slurred ‘for trying to bump me off’ Madeleine felt her breath catch.

‘Someone tried to kill you?’ she asked, aghast ‘How – why?’

‘s’not important’ Adelaide asserted ‘What is important is that I’m back home and they caught up with them – and it turns out the Greek police want them anyway, so when the Guard have finished with them they’ll hand them over’ she smiled and spread her hands out ‘Problem solved’ She tipped the bottle upside down, squinting at it. ‘Empty’ she said with regret ‘Time for bed’

‘But mother…’ Madeleine started, but she realised she would get nothing more from her as she put the bottle and glass down, and got up.

‘Night night, sweetie, don’t let the bed bugs bite’ she slurred, and teetered off out of the room. Madeleine was left alone with her thoughts. Tomorrow all three of them would go to Portaviera for the fashion show, and she had questions. She had also seen the stranger with Bastien at the Lantern festival, and wondered who he was and what part he had in her mother’s trip to the hospital in whatever godforsaken country she had visited. She needed information, and she knew where she could get it.

-------

‘What do you mean, all of them?’ Penelope’s voice was shrill. She had been so excited to host the fashion show, and now it was all falling apart in front of her eyes. The models had arrived together, hired from a modelling agency, and as soon as they arrived at their hotel one by one they had fallen sick, and the highly contagious norovirus stomach bug had been diagnosed. Their hotel had been isolated and all guests quarantined to prevent the spread any further. Luckily the clothes had been transported separately and the stylists, dressers and designers were in other accommodation and were unaffected.

‘I’m sorry Miss Ebrim’ the event organiser said ‘We don’t have anyone to model the clothes’ The duchess felt her stomach go into knots and her knees go weak

‘What can we do?’ she squeaked ‘Everything’s set up, the guests will be arriving in a few hours’

‘Now then Penny, stay calm’ her mother soothed ‘We can ask if any of the staff would consider helping. I’m sure some of them are the right size’

‘But they’re not professionals, mother’ she croaked ‘Everything’s ruined’

‘Nonsense’ Emmeline replied ‘It will be different – novel. Everyone will think how intriguing it is, especially if we recruit one or two lesser nobles. Why, I’m sure Lady Hana or Kiara would help out’ Penelope moaned and passed her hand over her forehead.

‘We need men to model some of the lines’ she said faintly ‘How are we going to organise it all?’

‘I’ll get onto my housekeeper’ her mother said ‘We still have time to pull this all together’

[marjansmarwani]

The Boss’s Son (Part 2)

Role Reversal AU continuation

[Ao3 Link]

[Part 1]

Firefighter Carlos Reyes and Officer TK Strand get to know each other a little better and fall a little harder for each other. But the course of true love never did run smooth – Shakespeare definitely got that one right.

So this ended up being over 6K and there is more angst than I was expecting but it’s fine, they’ll be fine. I’ll tag @buttercupstrand because this was all her idea in the first place, but if anyone else wants to be added to the tag list for future updates, let me know! 

---

Carlos grinned down at his phone as yet another message from TK popped up. He was apparently having a slow day at work, and if there was one thing Carlos had learned about Officer Strand it was that the man hated paperwork.

Hence all the texts complaining about it.

You know if you just did it, it would be done, he replied.

A response popped up almost immediately.

False. Paperwork breeds at an incredible rate. It’s like rabbits. Or amoebas. There is always more paperwork.

Carlos laughed aloud at that, drawing the attention of his crewmates who were sitting in the lounge with him. He hastily slid his phone into his pocket as their questioning eyes fell on him.

“My sister,” he lied, “she was just telling me about my niece’s newest tactic to avoid naptime.”

The others seemed satisfied by this response, though Paul gave him a raised eyebrow before returning to his book. Carlos resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief and to check his phone, which was vibrating again. There was no reason exactly he couldn’t tell his crew about this thing with TK, but dating his boss’s son still felt taboo. It wasn’t a topic he was looking to approach just yet.

Plus, dating might even be too strong of a word for what they were doing. No, whatever this was it was definitely not something he wanted out and examined under the microscope of his crew’s gossip just yet. Maybe not ever. They’d been out once, had hooked up...more than that. They texted during the day and called each other once in a while. It was good. Nice, simple. They were taking it slow.

When Carlos was sure all the eyes were off of him he pulled his phone out of his pocket to see what TK had to say.

We just got a call out, guess the paperwork will have to wait. What a shame.

The paperwork doesn’t know what it’s missing, he sent back.

I think I’ll struggle through.

Yeah, Carlos reflected as he chuckled and slid his phone back into his pocket and picked up the magazine he had been idly pursing, it was going pretty well - whatever it was.

---

The station alarms had blared shortly after his last exchange with TK, so Carlos was not all that surprised to see him when they arrived at the office building. He was surprised by everything else though, from the woman who had apparently jumped through a tempered glass window right down to the man TK was currently restraining from stabbing himself with a fork. In short, chaos.

TK handed his charge over to an officer who had just arrived and met them at the door, nodding to his dad before starting with the rundown. “I was first on scene,” he explained curtly, “In addition to the jumpers, there have also been 4 people trying to stab themselves and various others that just feel generally unwell. We’ve cordoned off everyone still standing over there,” he paused to gesture over towards the cubicles beyond the conference table, “and out special response teams are on their way. You should also know that all these symptoms came without warning,” he finished grimly.

Carlos exchanged a look with Marjan as he pulled out the chromatograph. It was standard procedure, but there was no way this was airborne. But he still needed to check because, on the off chance that it was, they could all be in serious danger.  

A quick scan confirmed his suspicions that nothing was airborne. Marjan nodded as he relayed the news, “if it were airborne there’d be 40 people down, not 9.”

“So what’s causing it?” he asked as he stowed the chromatograph back into its case.”

TK shrugged as he walked past them, hurrying to help his partner with another victim, “that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

The next few minutes were like nothing Carlos had ever seen before. He had been a firefighter for almost 6 years now, and while that may not be very long in the grand scheme of things, he had always felt that he had seen his fair share of strange happenings. This though was one for the record books. At one point he found himself next to TK, helping him to restrain a woman who was trying to dig her own veins out with her nails.

“I bet that paperwork sounds pretty good right now,” he said lowly to the other man as Tim tried his best to bandage her arms securely.

TK gave a dry chuckle, “I don’t know, it might be a tie.”

Carlos rolled his eyes but lost his chance to respond when the woman tried to lash out again and he was forced to move around to get a better grip and prevent her from gouging Tim’s eyes out as well as her own arm.  

He was changing his gloves a few minutes later when TK popped up at his shoulder again, eyes narrowed as he watched Paul poking around by the conference table, “Why do I feel like he’s doing a thing?”

Carlos followed his gaze to see Paul examining the debris left over from the lunch meeting, “he’s totally doing a thing,” he confirmed.

TK nodded and watched, not taking his eyes off of Paul even as he responded to his radio, confirming that yes, he really did want the building locked down. When Paul announced that he knew who did it, TK glanced at Carlos but followed Paul back to the conference table without a word.

Carlos could see Paul reach for a sandwich and gingerly remove the top half of the ciabatta roll. His voice was grim when he announced, “mercury.” Carlos glanced over at Michelle, who did not look pleased to have her suspicions confirmed. He heard TK swear softly before speaking into his radio, “Dispatch, be advised we have a suspect in the incidents at 701 Brazos. Details for an APB to follow.”

Once he switched off his radio he turned to face the CEO, “I’m going to need to know everything about your catering today,” he said curtly, “including why someone from this restaurant would want to poison your entire staff.”

The CEO looked baffled but began rambling off details about the restaurant and their catering contract. Carlos exchanged a glance with Paul, who was still holding the poisoned sandwich. His crewmate merely shook his head, replacing the top of the sandwich and setting it back on the tray.  

The next hour passed quickly. Now that they knew what they were dealing with, they knew what to look for and how to address it. It was well-controlled chaos, commanded by the combined brilliance of Captains Blake and Strand. Carlos clapped a hand on Michelle’s shoulder as they got the last of the victims loaded onto gurneys. “Nice work Chica,” he told her with a smile.

She returned it, even if it was a bit strained. “I just can’t believe anyone would do this,” she said with a shake of her head, “what kind of person does this?”

Carlos shrugged, “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll soon find out. It sounded like APD had a plan to draw whoever it is out.” He looked up to see Marjan gesturing for him to come over from the doorway. “I better go see what she wants,” he told Michelle, “I’ll see you later Chica. Remember, you did amazing today.” She gave him a grateful smile that he returned, before heading over to join his teammate. Marjan was impatiently waiting for him and grabbed his arm as soon as he was closer enough, dragging him behind her.

“Come on,” she said as they headed towards the lobby, “Officer Strand needs our help.”

Carlos was too stunned to ask questions, even if he had been given a chance to. Next thing he knew they were outside, waiting by the ladder truck. “What are we waiting for?” he asked.

Marjan grinned, “We called in an order to the place where they got their lunch. We’re going to wait for the delivery guy here and as soon as we can confirm that he’s the one who did it, Officer Strand and friends will swoop in and arrest the guy.” She was practically vibrating with excitement. Carlos raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, “Adrenaline junkie much?”

She didn’t even bother to deny it, they both knew it was true. “Oh c’mon Carlos,” she said instead, “do you want to help catch a killer? Or at least,” she added with a devilish grin, “see a certain police officer in action.”

He rolled his eyes at her and sincerely hoped it was too dark for her to be able to see the blush creeping up his cheeks. He was saved the trouble of responding by a sedan pulling up. A man in a green polo with the restaurant logo embroidered on it climbed out, hands full of bags. He glanced down at the paper in his hand, “I’ve got an order for Ladder 126?”

Carlos spared a glance at Marjan who shrugged before walking towards the man. He adopted his “polite phone voice,” as his sister called it, and called out “That would be us, thanks.”

The guy grinned as he handed over the bags, “No worries, always happy to help out our first responders.”

Marjan flashed him a winning smile, “That’s so sweet of you. What would really be helpful though would be not poisoning people with mercury. It would save us a lot of time and trouble, you understand.”

Carlos studied the delivery man as his face fell and fear spread across his features. He turned to bolt towards his car and Carlos was about to make a move to stop him when he heard TK’s voice ring out through the night air, “Freeze, APD!” Carlos tracked his voice to find him emerging from the shadows of the rig flanked by two other officers, gun drawn and expression serious.

Carlos fully understood the gravity of the situation at hand. He was painfully aware that the man in front of them was responsible for the death of several people, and the injury of many others. He had seen the devastation that he had caused firsthand, but that did not change the fact that he could not take his eyes off of TK.

He looked like an entirely different person. The person in front of him was a world away from the sweet and funny guy he had been getting to know. This man was focused and stoic. There was not a trace of his easy smile or quick humor. There was only determination and disdain for the person who could do this, could cause the destruction they had seen here tonight.

It was really hot.

Carlos wanted to feel bad for even thinking that at a time like this, but there was no denying that Officer Strand was sexy as hell. Carlos could think of a few ways they could maybe spice up their nights, but he pushed those aside. Appreciating the sight before him was one thing; fantasizing about his boss’s son on the job was entirely another.

He turned and walked away, heading inside to begin packing up their equipment. The sound of the cuffs clicking on the wrists of the irate delivery man brought a smile to his face. This may be a disaster unlike anything Carlos had ever seen, but at least the man responsible would be facing justice and would never be able to do this again.

Once the victims had been transported there was little to do but pack up. They did so quickly, and once they were back in the truck, Carlos pulled out his phone. He opened his messages and considered for a moment before he started typing.

Good work today Officer, he typed out. He paused for a minute but hit send. A response came almost immediately.

You didn’t do too bad yourself. See you tonight?

This time, Carlos didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Count on it.

----

Carlos anxiously checked everything on the table one more time. TK was due to show up any minute, and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect. They had been keeping things casual, but Carlos would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that his feelings for the officer were anything but casual. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but he had fallen hard for TK Strand.

That realization had led him to another: he barely knew anything about the other man. He knew that he was a cop, he knew that he was from New York, he knew that he was his boss’s son. That was it.

Well, that and the fact that he was amazing in bed.

Still, it didn’t feel like enough. He wanted to know more about this guy that made his heart race. He wanted to make a real go of this thing they had, and this was the first step in that direction.

Grand gestures, right?

The knock on his front door startled him so badly he almost spilled the bottle of champagne he had just finished pouring into glasses. He set it down gently and crossed to the door, smoothing his shirt as he went. He opened the door only to have the other man latch onto him immediately, his mouth finding him and his hands sliding down his chest, pulling at his shirt.

Carlos smiled into the kiss, returning it with almost as much vigor. He let it happen for a few more moments, savoring the rush that he felt before gently pulling away. When TK made to follow him and continue, he put a hand on his chest and used the other to gesture towards the table.

“Why don’t we have something to eat first?” he suggested.

TK grumbled but allowed himself to be led to the table. He took the seat offered and gazed at Carlos with suspicious eyes as he rounded the table to his own.

“What is all this?” he asked.

Carlos settled into his seat, “I figured it would be nice if we actually spoke in person for more than 4 minutes at least once. Don’t worry, we can have mind-blowing sex later, but I’d like to get to know the person I’m sleeping with a little bit.”

“Why?”

The question was harsher than Carlos had been expecting. Actually, a quick survey told Carlos that TK’s body language was a whole lot more hostile than he had been expecting. He could feel himself stiffening in response. He hadn’t known how TK would respond to this, but openly hostile had not been on his list. He continued on though, picking up his glass of champagne. He looked significantly at TK’s glass, but he didn’t move. If anything, his expression hardened.

Carlos’s glass was still held aloft, so he trudged ahead. “To new beginnings,” he said, raising his glass. His heart sank when he saw that this was clearly a one-sided endeavor. He set down his glass and looked at TK expectantly, “Are you going to say anything? Maybe comment on the fact that I clearly spent time on this, or that the table is set well?”

He tried to lean into humor, to use it as a shield. It was a weak one as TK’s next words shattered it with one blow.

“I’m sorry,” he said tightly, standing up from the table, “I think we have clearly gotten our signals crossed.”

He stood up and was about to walk away, but Carlos wasn’t about to let this happen. “What, you’re just leaving?”

“We clearly want different things Carlos; I don’t see much point in staying.”

“Different…” Carlos couldn’t believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing, “it’s dinner TK, not a marriage proposal.”

Carlos knew it wasn’t his imagination this time when he saw TK stiffen.

“I thought I had been perfectly clear,” he said coldly, turning to face Carlos, “this is not what I wanted. I just hadn’t realized you were living in a fantasy. Sorry to say that I’m not in it. Actually, not that sorry, come to think of it.”

They stood in silence for a while, the echoes and ramifications of TK’s words bouncing around them. Finally, Carlos spoke, “I’m sorry,” he said clearly, deliberately, “if I wanted to take the time to get to know the guy I was spending time with. I’m sorry that I wanted to do this right, that I expected some buy-in to this relationship considering the risk I am taking in dating my boss’s son.”

When TK’s laugh came it, was cold and hollow.

“I don’t even know where to begin with all of that. Let’s start with the fact that no one asked you to date me. We were just meeting up, who cares that you work with my dad? Secondly – and I want to make this painfully clear – there is no relationship. It was just sex, nothing more.”

He was quiet after that, letting his words sink in. After a few moments, he shook his head, “I’m sorry you went through all the trouble, but this is not going to work for me. Call me if you ever feel like rejoining me in reality. Otherwise, lose my number.

And just like that, he was gone.

Carlos sank into his chair, mind reeling. What the actual fuck had just happened?

Keep reading on Ao3