#Just something different I thought I'd try.

[kedreeva]

A couple months back, my neighbor wanted to get some Spitzhauben hatching eggs for his wife, so he asked me for help finding some good ones, from a good breeder. So I dug around for a bit, since Spitz are a bit of a rare breed, and found a few options that looked decent. One of them happened to be in Michigan with us, maybe a little over an hour from us, so I arranged to go pick them up in person to avoid the stresses of shipping on the eggs.

I picked up a dozen (baker's dozen, she added a few extra just in case), and a half dozen of the Marans eggs for myself (she gave me a discount because fertility hadn't been tested yet, as long as I promised to report growth/hatch rate and update about what comes out) because she claimed to have good quality and her eggs looked to be decent quality. She was really nice, very chatty, and the eggs looked great in person, too.

12 of the spitz eggs hatched, and 3 of the BCM. The BCM chicks looked great but they were being stressed OUT by the quail chicks they were in with, so I snuck them into the brooder with the spitz when I closed up the neighbor's birds one evening while they were out.

I've visited them a few times since, and they've been looking good, but they're finally to an age where on the BCM you can tell sex- perfect ratio, one rooster, two hens.

Now, I used to keep and breed BCM a long time ago. I had wanted to get into showing (never got around to it for several reasons), and I'd dealt with several lines. My original line that I'd mixed from a couple different people always produced REALLY stellar roosters- big lads with sweet, docile personalities that were 100% ready to die for their ladies, whom they always treated well. For roosters, those are all REALLY important qualities. The ideal is a rooster that treats his ladies well, is willing to fight to the death to defend them if something comes after them BUT--- importantly can tell the difference between a predator and a human who is messing with the hens (picking up, moving, treating w/ meds, whatever). Ideally, if a hen makes a noise of distress, the rooster come BOLTING to her at top fucking speed ready to kick ass, but stops dead if he sees it's just a human. And I HAD that- I used to sell the roosters to folks (SELL them, I never had to give away a rooster) as flock protectors, and I would get people coming back to buy another after their guy died defending the girls while free ranging. It's sad, but it's also one of two reasons to have a rooster.

And I see all the time people posting about their mean roosters, about how to handle roosters that are mean to humans, or people telling others oh the rooster is just young and roosters are mean when they're young and they'll mellow out when they get older, just keep putting up with it. Power through.

NO! There is almost* NEVER a reason to tolerate a nasty rooster- one that's mean to the girls, or to humans. This BCM rooster is only a few months old, but you can already see the purpose that's been bred into him. I picked up one of his girls and she went :( and he came RUNNING over to see what was wrong, looked me up and down and went nah that's cool, and then checked on all the other girls. Just in case. I went to move them from their cage to the big play pen that's set up for them, and I thought oh this is going to be a circus, trying to catch them all. The Spitzhauben were acting insane, like I was trying to kill them by looking at them. I braced the carry bin on the edge of the door, expecting to reach in to (try to) grab each bird and put them in. But no. This rooster walked over, got in, called the others, and they all chilled right out, came over and jumped into the bin with him. He's in the playpen right now just watching over all the others. If someone gets into an argument, he runs over and gets between them, and then checks on them both after. When he lies down, the others come lie down with him. On him.

THIS is what a good rooster looks like. Not in a year, not in two years. Right from the getgo, the instincts are all there. Hormones shouldn't eliminate/supercede this behavior- they shouldn't turn a bird into an asshole. They should instigate a second set of rooster behaviors- dancing/courting, tidbitting, and mating attempts. Running girls ragged, pulling feathers, causing injury, attacking people- these are all poor breeding and/or handling problems. These are things that can (and SHOULD) be selected against when breeding fowl

*The "almost" never is that a breeder starting out may not have a choice when it comes to shitty personalities- they may find themselves having to tolerate the least shitty for a few generations, until the personalities show improvement. In this case, most (good) breeders know better than to dump the wash outs on the unsuspecting, and will instead do hard culls for food or sell to folks raising food or who are aware of the personality problems. In any case any tolerance should be an in-progress tolerance, not an endgame result.

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

🍵༘PANCAKES🥯⊹ ࣪ ˖

„⤵ MILD ANGST and fluff! „⤵ 2 / (?) PARTS „⤵ JASON TODD X READER Jason is getting settled in his new home, after showing up at your door last night. Jason is a dead man walking, but he still needs you. Read PT 1 here! AFFECTION ROTS Reblogs much appreciated

The two of you eventually found the couch. You sat next to him, putting a throw pillow's distance between the two of you. Much to his disappointment. Jason was more clingy then he had ever been before. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. A few hours passed. You had both fallen asleep sometime after midnight. That morning he explained everything as best as he could to you, his death at the hands of the joker, the crowbar, the ressurection. Despite the granted confusion you followed as best you could. He told you everything. Everything that happened from the moment he died. He really missed you, despite the two of you being dumb in love teeangers. He still saw a future with you, and you were wary to admit you weren't sure you saw the same. He was diffrerent. Bigger, taller, stronger. And somehow more alive, than anything before. “I'm sorry." You managed to say. You felt like such a coward. You couldn't handle touching him, or holding his hand.

“I can't blame you. It'll take some time." He said sadly. You could see in his eyes that he was blaming himself. "You're doing great… I really am proud of you. Just wish we could've done all this… together, y'know?" he said the last part quietly, almost a whisper. You looked down, unable to hold eye contact.

"Things are a little bit different now. You know that right? I can't change my past. Even though I'd like to." You spoke slowly. "You know, it's gonna take some time. I don't regret our relationship. Never have."

”You're serious, huh?" he raised an eyebrow. It was nearly commical. You were devestating him with every word you spoke. "I wanted us to do this forever, you know? Like… forever. You've always been on my mind.. guess I should've known things weren't gonna stay the same. You're not fifteen anymore.." he mumbled.

He had a faraway look in his eye. You wondered how much of this story he had clearly made up inside his mind depended on you reciprocating his tender feelings. But you knew this was his way of trying to comfort you, despite his broken soul. He would give you time… "Do you remember our first date?" He suddenly asked. He smiled shyly, looking down at his lap. The image came unbidden to your mind, vivid and perfect. You remembered how much effort he put into planning. He was more thorough then any man. He was attentive, and a good listener. So why were you hesitant..? Maybe it was his dependency. “Um. Yes I remember- Um.. do you want breakfast?.." You said weakly, standing up and turning towards the kitchen, leaving him to his own thoughts. "I can make us something quick…" You heard him sigh in disappointment. When you finally turned around again, his elbows were on his knees. He was curled into himself. You knew he was trying to be strong. But it was hard to admire his strengths when he looked so pitiful.. It broke your heart. "I'm making pancakes.. Do you want some? They're grainy but- edible." You offered hesitantly.

“Yeah.. sounds good.” His voice cracked. He didn’t have a good relationship with food. After the truama of his death and even before that with the joker, he hadn’t been hungry at all. He never wanted food.. and when he did it threw it up promptly. Food always felt unsafe to him. And that included food cooked by you.. which seemed ironic, because he would have worshipped the ground beneath you if you asked him to.

He wondered if he watched the whole process of cooking from start to finish if he would feel better about it. He could trick his brain into understanding he was safe.

“God you’re so gorgeous..” He sighed. “I’m tired of falling for you all over again… s’not fair. Why can’t I have you?” You paused, setting the pan on the stove as it heated up. Melting the butter into a bubbly golden liquid. There was no denying he had changed a lot. He went from 4”6 to an even 6 foot. You could see the stretch marks that painted his hips whenever he lifted his arms up. Despite your ‘disinterest’ in him romantically, you would still take small peeks and glances whenever his shirt rode up, revealing some of the new muscle he had gained.

His sudden growth wasn’t unwelcome, it was just shocking that he had grown that much within the span of a few years. Especially considering he had always been smaller than you.

But you had accepted his advances with only halfhearted interest. Even if he was a handsome behemoth of a man today. But it was hard to deny the fact that when he looked at you like he did now, you felt a lingering warmth.

He hadn’t lost his charm. He still knew how to make you blush and smile. But maybe you were too afraid of losing what you shared with him.. again..

As you began making the pancake mix he kept his gaze trained on you and the food. He was obviously enthralled with it.. “I like strawberries.” He smiled softly, watching you work through the recipe. He’d always loved watching you cook. It reminded him of home.. it was vaguely reminiscent of Alfred. Even if he hated the Waynes he still missed having a family. “They remind me of you.” He continued. “Those soft, shiny pinkish red ones…” You nodded along to his words. He was always so sentimental.. “They smell like spring.” He added, smiling slightly. You felt yourself relax at his words. He could be sweet sometimes, despite the fact he was now, 10x his size, strength, and power. He was probably better at a lot of things now, you didn’t want to know what he would do to any of the failed relationships you had in your contacts still... But it was clear he still had that innocent side that you once loved. Jason was like weathered plastic in the garden, his old self was fading, but the spots where the sunlight hadn’t burned away the old Jason todd were still as vibrant and tender as ever. He seemed happier than usual too. His cheeks had begun to lighten up again, his skin seemed to glow from just having seen you again.

The food was ready, and you brought him over to the table. “I’m not an amazing cook, but I hope it’s okay….” You handed him the fork. He was silent for a while, staring at the plate in front of him.

“I uh.. I’m usually not so good with food but this does look really good I promise. It feels like I constantly have the flu. My mind is all fucking broken.."

"You deserve a break." You said, sitting opposite of him across the table. Your fingers intertwined tightly with your own beneath the table, under the table. You tried to suppress your nerves. He needed comfort and support now, you couldn't give him more. "You're here.. With me.. That's something." You said, trying to encourage him.

“I still want you. So bad..” He mumbled. His fork clinked against his plate as he set it down gently. You took a deep breath. You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t ready to talk about your problem with the matter of your relationship. You just wanted him to eat, and try to get better..

“Jason-“ You warned.

“Do you still love me?” He interrupted. He was trying to sound calm, but he was clearly agitated. The question threw you off guard. He looked at you with wide, desperate eyes. “Answer honestly. I need to know.” You hesitated.

“Yes.” You answered truthfully, not able to hide the hurt on your face.

“You don’t even want to touch me…” he muttered dejectedly.

“You died- I was at your funeral.. I don’t understand how your here right now..” you said firmly. “I’m just… confused, ok? I thought I understood everything..” You were trembling. You knew he saw, he understood. You didn’t know how to deal with the guilt gnawing at your stomach.. You hated seeing him this upset. “I miss you..” he whispered, staring at you with pleading eyes.

You lowered your gaze and shook your head. “I’m sorry- you.. Do you have a place to stay?..”

“Are you kicking me out?..”

“Well no- but I feel bad for making you sleep on the couch.” You explained. “You’ve done nothing wrong.. I’m sorry… do you want to stay?”

He remained silent and slowly ate the food placed in front of him. His lips forming into a thin line. He looked exhausted. But he was eating the meal you had made, albeit reluctantly and very slowly. It took him about 20 minutes, as he finished every bite without looking up or saying a word.

“Yeah. I want to stay here for a bit.” He replied after he finished chewing. You nodded, relieved. He pushed back the chair and stood up. He looked exhausted.

“I’ll get you some blankets.” You said quietly, walking back to your room to bring some out to him. While searching your closet, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Your body froze for a split second. Just Jason.. Just Jason…. Then you relaxed. You pulled out two fluffy blankets. You walked back towards him, throwing them over his shoulders. He let out a content sigh at the warmth. “It smells like you…” he mused. He looked so at peace. Like you had injected life into him for the first time since he got here.

He grabbed one pillow from your bed and squeezed it. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft material against his skin. You couldn’t help but smile softly. He looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky. A sense of wonder and relief washing over his features. He turned to the doorway, making his way to the living room.

The television flickered dimly on your TV stand. Your DVD’s stacked high, mostly disney and other classics. “I love you so much..” he murmured, looking around your home.

“I…” You paused. “Know.. you do..” you trailed off, not knowing how else to respond. It felt weird hearing those words come from him. You spent nights hoping to hear those exact words just.. one more time. Hearing them now..

“Where were you?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming guilt weighing down your chest.

“Oh y’know…” He shrugged. “Just…” he laughed awkwardly before sitting down on the couch. “Just running around doing shit. Nothing serious.” He admitted. “But I was able to find you eventually. I actually used to sit in the parking lot and stare at your apartment door, waiting for you to open it..” he looked embarrassed to admit that, scratching the side of his jaw. You chuckled lightly at that image. “You should have seen it, though! I sat there until my legs went numb and then I finally decided to walk away because I felt kinda creepy sitting there watching like that..” He grinned, remembering how pathetic and childish it sounded. “But, I had to see you last night. I had to talk to you... See how you were...” He said, sadly. “God…I’m really messed up.” He sighed, dropping his gaze onto the floor. You frowned as you noticed his mood swing.

“I missed you too-… I’m glad you’re back, and I’m sorry I’m being so cold.” You apologised.

He gave you an understanding glance, “you can be pretty difficult to read these days.. I just.. I hope you can understand my intentions. I still want you.”

“Night Jay.” You stood up, attempting to run away from the topic. “I have class in the morning. I gotta get some sleep. I have a presentation coming up.” You walked towards the bedroom, but stopped. You didn’t want to leave him alone yet. What happened wasn’t fair. “I’ll be back around 12 or so.. tomorrow.”

“Goodnight baby.” He sighed, laying down on the couch. You smiled at his nickname.

He stayed sleeping in his makeshift bed the whole evening, until 4 am or so when he slipped out from the blankets and into your room. He was just getting up to check on you, but eventually it became him… getting a closer look.. getting in bed. and passing out next to you. These blankets were big enough to cover him completely, no cold feet. There was barely any distance between you.

“Night..” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He laid down facing away from you, but in his mind he was holding you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. ...

[helen-with-an-a]

My WIPs

My Masterlist

Hi everyone. So I've got a lot of WIPs and drafts and things and I'd thought I might share them so you can see what's in the pipeline for 2025.

A little disclaimer: these are in no way a promise to be written. These are just ideas that are in my head right now. I want to write them all but there are a lot and sometimes ideas come and go.

I'll try and update this somewhat regularly but yeh. I hope you enjoy looking through these.

Fluff | Angst | Suggestive | Angst/Comfort | Smut

Barça Femeni:

Baby (R comes to live with Alexia when she first moves to Barça and it's finally her last uni exam)

Withdrawn (TW: R*p* and coercion, repression of sexuality) (R comes back after the Christmas holidays withdrawn)

Kicked Out (R gets kicked out of her home)

Knight in Shining Football Kit (Alexia steps in to save R from an uncomfortable media interview)

Hyper (R's a little crazy at times and Alexia has had enough)

Tips (R wants to take the next step in her relationship with her gf, naturally she goes to the team for some tips)

That's a Lot of Blood (TW: medical incident; blood) (R cuts herself whilst making her dinner)

I'm Just Tired (TW: medical) (R's chronic illness takes a turn for the worse)

It's Ok To Be Sad (R is a ray of sunshine, but sunshine can sometimes hide the clouds)

Holidays (R doesn't feel too comfortable about going home for the off season)

AWFC

Hot Mess (R is Kim Little's younger sister and isn't living up to expectations)

I Don't Understand Her (R has undiagnosed ADHD but the team don't understand)

Alexia Putellas

Bratty (18+) (Alexia is a bit of a brat)

Winner Winner (R is a musician and wins her first grammy)

Beautiful Girl

Waking Up (Blurb) (Amor and Ale wake up on an off day)

Night Out (18+) (Alexia and R go on a night out with the team)

Talking Her Through It (18+) (Amor and Ale try to get Ale to squirt for the first time)

Notes in the Margin (Ale stumbles across some old books of Amor's)

Subspace (Blurb) (Ale goes into subspace for the first time)

I'm Sorry (Ale gets a little clingy)

First Time (18+) (It's Ale and Amor's first time together)

Mapí León

Sister Sister (R comes to join her sister at Barça)

Alessia Russo

Outshine (sister!R) (R has always felt outshined by Alessia)

Lena Oberdorf

Jealousy (18+) (R doesn't like the girl trying to flirt with Lena)

New (R and Lena's relationship is very new and they're still trying to figure things out)

Georgia Stanway

Something's Different (Keira notices something's a little different with Georgia)

Traditions (Georgia and R have their own way of celebrating big wins)

What About Me? (R has felt a little neglected by Georgia recently)

Ona Batlle

Broken (Ona challenges R to a game of football)

Lucy Bronze

Rivalry (Lucy plays for Chelsea, R plays for Arsenal, it's the LDN Derby)

Jessie Fleming

Senses (multi-part series) (Putellas!R) (R moves to Chelsea to get out of Alexia's shadow, in doing so she falls in love with Jessie)

A Person to Call Home (Jessie comforts R through not qualifying for the Euros)

Ingrid Engen

Nerves (18+) (2-part series) (It's R's first time)

Keira Walsh

Let Me Show You (When it hits home that Keira and Lucy are done for good, R offers Keira to show her what she's missing out on)

Aitana Bonmatí

Oblivious (R is a little oblivious to Aitana's advances)

Release Schedule

All fics are to be released at 9pm on Fridays

January

3rd: Something’s Different (Georgia Stanway)

10th: Beautiful Girl Headcanons

17th: Withdrawn (TW: R*p*, Coercion) (Barça Femeni)

24th: Waking Up (Alexia Putellas - Beautiful Girl)

31st: Rivalry (Lucy Bronze)

February

7th: Senses pt1 (Jessie Fleming; Putellas!R)

14th: Jealousy 18+ (Lena Oberdorf)

21st: Senses pt2 (Jessie Fleming; Putellas!R)

28th: Answering a few Beautiful Girl questions

March

7th: Senses pt3 (Jessie Fleming; Putellas!R)

14th: Outshine (Alessia Russo; sister!R)

21st: Senses pt4 (Jessie Fleming; Putellas!R)

28th: Beautiful Girl Headcanons and Moodboard

[manwritingtales]

Dad, What The Hell Happened To You?

"Dad, what the hell happened to you?" my dad is shirtless, his protruding hairy belly in sight. Just last week, my dad, the daddest dad I know, started posting weird shirtless pics online. I wouldn't have worried if he was just posting workout physiques, but there was something else different about it. He's a quiet person, and he doesn't often go shirtless, but this newfound appreciation for his body took me off guard.

"Nothing happened," my dad said, rubbing his belly. He looked at me calmly, with the same serious look on his face. "Aren't you proud of your dad getting in shape?" He flexed his arms, showing his hairy armpit. I cringed internally. He massages his biceps, the hairs on his chest, and almost smugly displayed them to me.

"I don't care about that," I said, trying to avoid looking at his body. "But dad… my friend sent me a screenshot of you…" Just getting the words out feel wrong. My dad, who was married for years with my mom, was now this person I barely recognized. "It was you… it was a Grindr profile…"

He just looked at me, silent for a moment. "So?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "You're not gay! You were married to mom! I've even heard your political views on gay people—and that told me all I need to know!"

He flexed his arms, and I cringed at how performative it looked. "I've always been gay, son. Now that your mother's gone, I can finally let men worship this bicep." With that, he kissed his arms and looked at me with a hint of a smirk.

I felt sick to my stomach. I would never have guessed that my father was gay. "Look. I don't care that you're gay. Everyone's asking me questions about you. Your Instagram profile is just countless shirtless pictures of you just from this week!"

He took a step forward, and I could smell the faint aroma of his body. "Well, son. I think it's time, don't you think?"

He looked at me calmly, and I could feel something darker within his eyes.

I forced the words out. "Time for what?"

I saw him smirk, a sinister smirk that made my eyes go wide. He whispered, "Go."

My mouth is forced open as panic rises from my chest. A sudden warmth invades my throat as I feel it slither further down into me. My legs grow limp as this warmth slithers further down to the deepest corners of my body. The warmth seemed to disappear, leaving a strange sensation as though something was just in me.

I cough. Hard. Dad's just looking at me with the same serious expression. "What the hell happened?"

"Now I can do this." He stepped forward and cupped my crotch. I let out a gasp as I move to get away. My legs stand still. He leans in, and I feel his hot breath under my neck. "You have no idea how long we've been waiting for this."

He starts rubbing my crotch, his strong hands cupping at the balls and at my — and I realize in horror—hardening cock.

"What… the… fuck… is… happening?" I choke out, my breathing getting heavier as my father stares at me with his deep, soulful black eyes. I feel his other hand pulling me closer.

"He struggled, too, you know," my dad said, his voice strangely harmonic. "But he likes it now."

I feel my hand move on its own accord, and I put my left hand on his chest, the right behind his back. "I'm not fucking gay!"

"Yeah?" he grinned like a predator catching its prey—a view I thought I'd never see, "Well, he wasn't at first."

I feel my arms moving on its own, taking off my shirt and shucking off my pants. "What the fuck!"

My dad leans in and starts kissing my chest. My dad, who once told me not to play with a 'girls' toy', was now knee-deep in my armpits, sniffing so hard he looked as though he would faint. Oh god. My cock has never been this hard. Holy fuck, what the hell is happening?

I lean away for a moment, and I stare at my dad's eyes. For a moment, I see him, my real dad, somewhere in those eyes, then I feel a force like a cannonball forcing us to kiss like mad men. I groan, cringing inside as I felt my dad's tongue in my mouth. I've fully leaned into his body, rubbing his arms and feeling his hairy back. He smelled faintly of sweat, but my cock only grew harder from his musk.

"This isn't you," I gasped within kisses. I feel my body lean in until I'm sucking on his nipples, groaning at his hairy body. An undeniable urge to devour his body was in me. All my body wants to do is to worship this man. My dad, who raised me. This hot, sexy, piece of meat. Fuck!

"Oh, it's me, son," he said with a gruffness that only spurred me on. He forced me closer, and the strength of his arms makes my knees weak. "You already feel it, don't you? You're not sure if it's just something making you do this or it was something you've wanted all along."

I lean in and sniff his armpits, clawing at his hairy belly and kissing him, the odd sensation of kissing someone with a beard enough to send shivers down my spine. I… I understood it now. My dad is fucking hot and he should display his body as much as he wants! Wait! That's not me!

"Don't fight it, son," he whispered, licking my ears. "Come sit on your dad's cock, son. I know you want to." Yes, I did want to. My hands travelled to his cock, and my eyes open wide as I discover it's as thick as a beer can.

"Jesus, dad," I say, unsure if I'm impressed, embarrassed, or horny. I want to suck his cock. I look at the large fucking thing. The veins, just the thickness of it all. All I want to do is just slather his cock with my saliva. I want that thick dick deep in my—wait.

"This isn't me," I whispered to him. My body moves down his cock until I could smell it. All the warmth and musk seemed to lead right into his dick. He grabbed me by my hair. "Come on, son."

My dad looked at me with a proud smile. It was the type of smile he only gave me once in a decade. He looked so gentle and… fuck. He was so fucking hot. I lean in and take his cock in. I gag, unused to the invasion to my throat. I start sucking in, my hands moving to his balls and to his legs. I… love his cock. I love the feeling of it down my throat. I should have more cocks down my throat. I love it. All of a sudden, it felt… easier. I slowed down and savored his taste. He groaned, his familiar voice sounding so… hot, so bothered. His cock was so hard but I fucked my throat in it. I felt his hands on my head.

"You're fucking good at this, son," he said gruffly. I felt my cock get even harder at the praise. I love it. I want my dad to fuck me all the time. I want him all the time. I want his dick in me. I don't. I do. Wait, fuck, I don't! Yes, I do.

I feel a sudden surge of energy in my dad's cock. I feel it pulse, and my body leans further in, and this time I gag even more. Fuck! I need to stop this! I will myself to lean away but my body won't respond.

"Don't fight, son," he said, caressing my hair. "Make your dad proud."

He suddenly thrust forward, his cock further impaling my throat. "That's it, son," he cooed. He thrust again, grabbing my head and keeping it in place. I don't want to fight this. I want to let this happen. My dad let out a loud groan as a torrent of cum splashes out into my throat. I gag but my body keeps still, hot thick cum shooting straight in my throat. I love the taste of it. Just the thought that it's from my dad is enough. I want it all. I feel his cum leak out from my mouth, but my tongue laps as much as it can, hungrily.

We collapse down to the ground. My dad's sweating profusely, and he looks so hot with his hairy body all oiled up. Shit. This really fucking happened. I just sucked my dad's cock. He looked at me with the same calm expression, but his eyes seem gentler. I heave in and out. I can still taste my dad on my mouth.

We don't say anything for a few minutes. I'm leaning on his arm, his warmth feeling so inviting. I look him straight in the eye. "Now who the fuck is in my body?"

[wings-of-ink]

How about a little something extra for your reading pleasure?

Below is the little story (around 3800 words) I posted about doing here. It's a fictionalized retelling of how we found our little Shadow cat. It's not terribly dramatic or anything, but it's a bit cute, especially for those of you who are a fan of Nathanael in the story. You get to see a little more of him at a different stage of his life. ^_^

~~~

Nathan stretched, looking up at the clear sky. It was bright, big, and beautiful, as always. Puffy clouds were rolling by, occasionally blotting out the sun, but only for a moment.

"It's gonna rain tonight," a voice said behind him.

Nathan turned, spotting his friend, Andrina, as she approached carrying a crate. "You think?" he asked, turning his face back to the sky. "Doesn't look that way to me."

"Here, you oaf, take this – it's heavy," she chided, thrusting the crate into his hands. "That's the last one."

"Thank you, dear," he said, lugging it onto the back of the wagon with the others.

"I'm tellin' you, cover that shit with a tarp unless you want all your merchandise soaked." Andrina heaved herself up on the side of the wagon, light ginger hair flopping over her face, concealing her bright blue eyes. "You have one right? I'm not helping you dry all this shit when we get home."

"Yes, Mother, I'll get right on it." Nathan laughed.

"If you weren't so bad at takin' care of yourself, I wouldn't have to mother you!"

Nathan rolled his eyes as he began to unfasten the tarp from the other side of the wagon. He sighed. He really needed to get something with a roof. Not that selling out of the back of the wagon was difficult, but it was becoming a hassle this way. He paused for a moment as he fiddled with the ties binding the tarp together. That feeling was settling in again. Something felt like it was missing. He was anxious, restless, feeling like he'd long forgotten something. He had hoped this feeling would leave him for good, it seemed as though he was wrong.

How long had he lived here again? Four or five years now? He liked living with Andrina and Erik, they'd become wonderful friends and he didn't want to leave them just yet or maybe ever. It had been long since he had such good friends. Settling anywhere for long always left him with these odd feelings. He hated it and wished he could just settle somewhere like most people did. But, if he wanted to try to live a somewhat normal existence, this was the way it needed to be. Maybe one day he would figure out a way to live that didn't make his skin itch with dissatisfaction. Maybe he would figure out why it was this way for him. Someday.

"Nathan?" a soft voice asked.

"Hm?" His attention snapped to the figure standing next to him. Erik – dark brown eyes peeked through his messy black hair with a look of concern.

"You did that thing again. Are you sure you don't need to see a healer about that? Andrina said your name but it was like you couldn't hear." Erik's thin bony hand gently touched his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought. I promise I am well, my mind has just been loud lately."

Andrina reached across from her perch on the wall of the wagon. "Hand over the tarp, cloud-dreamer, and let's get on the road."

Nathan nodded, unrolling the tarp and giving the end of it to his friend as they all worked to secure it. Before long, they were on the road again and heading home. Andrina sat on the back of the wagon smoking her pipe as Erik sat at the front with Nathan while the horses walked the familiar path, not needing any guidance.

Erik nudged Nathan's shoulder. "I think I might know what's going on with you," his quiet voice said.

"Yeah?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. It was unlike Erik to speak up in such a way so casually.

"Yes, you should grow the beard." Erik smiled, trying to stifle a laugh.

Nathan snorted, raising a hand to feel along his chin. He'd kept it smooth for as long as he could remember. "Do you think I'd look good with one? Would it age me?"

Erik shrugged. "I think it would give you an attractive flair. Maybe make you look smarter."

"Ha!" Andrina laughed. "No, it'd make you look like one of those scammy so-called magicians that swindle kids for pocket money!"

Nathan pouted and Erik chuckled but notably did not disagree.

Erik went quiet again before taking a deep breath. "I think you're a little lonely."

Nathan almost laughed. "What? How could I be with you and Mother Hen always around?"

"There's different types of loneliness you know. There's a type for romance, for friends, for family – for silence…you just need to figure out which one tugs at your own heart. We've known you long enough to see the signs, even if you ignore them."

The conversation stopped there, giving Nathan a great deal to think about. Erik had a way of doing that to him. He was such a mild person but had a way of sneaking deep truths in without warning. And Andrina's uncharacteristic silence spoke volumes about her agreement.

Was it really that simple? Was he just missing out on something? But what could it be? He lived comfortably enough, had friends old and new all around, and his business was flourishing…what was missing?

"Hey!" Andrina called. "That little shop at the edge of town was opening today. We should eat there when we get home."

The men agreed and the rest of the way was filled with amiable silence and pipe smoke.

~~~

Andrina had been right.

It started raining halfway home. The bright sky slipped to grey as clouds blotted out the sun and a steady trickle began to fall. A cold chill clung to the wind from the north as well. When they arrived at the eatery, which appeared to be little more than a large shed with a stone oven in the center, they found a table without issue. It was late enough in the day, the rush of patrons clamoring for dinner had already gone. The warmth of the place was very welcome after their journey.

A clearly exhausted employee slapped three tankards on the table. "Welcome to Pista's Hut. We have ale. You get ale," they said, voice flat.

The three friends nodded, not about to argue.

"You're late for dinner, the cook will throw what we have left in the oven and that will be that. It'll be out in a bit." They walked away without another word.

Andrina chuckled. "Well, you two can never decide anyway, so this works in our favor. Ale's good at least."

Erik shrugged and picked up his tankard. "I'll eat anything."

Nathan sipped his drink, his thoughts still stuck on what Erik had told him earlier. The ale was good…

A while later, the server returned holding a metal tray and slapped it in the middle of the table. "Okay, we only had some dough, tomatoes, and a bit of cheese. The cook whipped this up for you. Smells good at least, and it's the best we got." They dropped a heavy cleaver on the table, making everything on it rattle. "Here's a knife to cut it. I'll bring more ale," they said before turning heel and walking away.

The three friends stared at their meal. What appeared to be a giant bit of flat bread was stretched wide on the tray, smeared with crushed tomatoes, bits of cheese melted on top. The bread was toasty in places and the top of the construction steamed, wafting a tasty fragrance into the air.

Andrina grabbed the cleaver, which Nathan quickly took from her. "Not after what happened last time, Andi."

She flopped back dramatically into her chair, cheeks puffing out. Erik covered his mouth as he tried not to giggle.

Nathan studied the food and began to cut the best way he could figure out. It was shaped like a pie or cake, so he split it into triangles. They each took a slice and began to eat silently.

After a few bites, they all looked at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to speak.

Erik began, "Is it just me or is this damn delicious?"

Nathan concurred, "It is absolutely delectable."

Andrina stuffed her slice into her mouth, working it around as it burnt her tongue.

The three devoured the construct, save for one small piece. When the server came to collect their dishes, they took the last bit, uncaring if strangers had touched it, and began to eat. The morsel seemed to cheer them up at least.

Thunder rolled outside as the friends finished their drinks. Home wasn't far at least, though they'd probably be soaked through by the time they reached it and put the horses and wagon away.

They piled outside after a time, huddled under cloaks as the rain continued. Nathan checked the cargo for tampering and the horses, slipping them a few sugar cubes for their wait, making promises of comfort to come.

He was about to load up when he heard a small clamor, like things falling, drawing his attention to an alley beside the eatery. It was dark, nothing but bins of waste scattered around.

"What is it?" Andrina asked.

Nathan shrugged. "Just thought I heard something."

He moved to the driver's seat of the wagon and was about to get seated when he heard something else.

Mew. Mew.

He stopped and looked again, still not seeing anything.

Erik leaned over. "Is that an animal? Look there by the bins."

Nathan couldn't see anything, so he went down the alley, walking slowly and listening.

Mew.

Mew…

Little squeaky sounds came from under a large bin. They ceased when Nathan reached it. He squatted low and peered under it, trying not to gag from the smell.

A little soggy ball of fur stared back at him with scared green eyes.

Nathan began to reach for it but stilled a moment. "Are you a rat? Are you going to bite me?"

Mew. 

"No, you must be a cat…I think…" He scooped up the tiny thing.

Nathan brought the creature over to an awning with a lantern hanging so he could see. It was a tiny kitten cold and wet, no bigger than his palm. It mewed in distress but didn't try to get away from him.

"My, my you aren't very old. Is your momma around?" Nathan looked back down the alley.

"What is it?" Erik called from the wagon.

"A kitten!" Nathan answered. "I'll be a moment, I'm going to look for its mother!"

Andrina groaned dramatically and then laughed as Erik chided her.

Nathan held the kitten close to his heart to share his warmth as he slowly plodded down the alley, calling in a sweet voice for any critters. After peeking around to the back of the building and spotting nothing, Nathan headed back, finding that the disenchanted server from earlier was taking a crate into the alley.

"Excuse me, dear, have you seen a mother cat around here?" Nathan held the kitten up for reference. "This one appears to have gotten lost."

They shook their head. "Nah, that one has been out here all day. Saw it this morning. If the momma didn't fetch it by now, she's not coming back."

Nathan's heart sank. "All day? It's been raining…"

"Just leave it where you found it, nature will take its course."

"No!" Nathan suddenly spat. He held the little creature closer and then cleared his throat. "No…Sorry, I'll just take it then."

"Fine by me."

Nathan hustled down the alley back to his friends and hopped up into the wagon. Passing the reins to Erik, everyone stared at the little furball who had gone quiet.

"We have a cat now?" Andrina asked.

Nathan sighed. "We…have a cat now. For now, I suppose. I'll figure it out."

The little creature snuggled closely to Nathan's chest the whole way home. It didn't make another sound, happier now that it was warm and blocked from the rain. There was a pull at Nathan's heart, a clear sadness a the sight of the defenseless kitten.

Once home, they guided the horses and cart into the barn and Nathan left his friends in charge of the horses. This kitten was little and too young for solid food. They didn't have much to offer it, but if there was one creature who could help it was Jaala – the goat who hated him.

Erik seemed to be the only one whom the goat respected enough to milk her, but Nathan had some extra sugar to offer in exchange for a bit of milk to help the kitten. He found a crate, filled it with straw, and settled the kitten inside who began to mew as soon as the comfort of being held faded.

"Just a moment little one, I need to make sure I can feed you."

Grabbing the milk pale, he checked to make sure it was clean before facing Jaala. She glared at him immediately, snorting in displeasure and standing defensively in front of her sleeping kid.

"Sorry girl, just me tonight," Nathan said as he searched his pockets for sugar. "Here, to sweeten the deal." He held out a cube to the goat who glared as she plucked it from his hands, biting his fingers in the process. Nathan tamped down his reaction.

He placed the bucket down as the goat barely tolerated his presence. "I need just a little bit of milk. Do you hear the kitty? Just like your little one, he needs something to eat." Nathan offered another sugar cube which the goat snatched right away.

As she chewed, he positioned the bucket and knelt beside her, quick to offer another sweet to keep her agreeable as he began to milk her. He rationed the last two cubes to get enough for a good meal for the kitten, quickly packing up and giving the goat her space when he was done.

The cat continued to mew from the safety of its little nest. Nathan sat in the straw and plucked the furball up again, bringing it to his chest. Pulling a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his robe, he soaked a bit of it in the milk and brought it to the little kitten's mouth. It latched on right away, suckling hungrily at the cloth until it was practically dry. Nathan dipped it again and repeated the process until the little one had drank all there was. And with a full belly, it fell asleep in his hands.

Nathan took the crate and the kitten inside with him where his friends had started a good fire. He changed his clothes and put on something dry, keeping an eye on the little one. All of them sat around the fireplace, sprawled on the couches and rugs there.

"Sucker," Andrina chided with a smile.

Nathan sighed. "I couldn't leave the poor thing to die."

Erik's dog, a massive black and white hound, sniffed around the crate, wagging his tail happily before getting up on Erik's lap. "Reminds me of when we found you," Erik said, patting his dog's head.

Nathan wrinkled his nose. "Yes, yes, I'm akin to a half-drowned cat with no teeth."

Andrina began packing her pipe. "You gonna keep the thing?"

He shook his head. "No, I'll just make sure it doesn't suffer and I'm sure one of the shops or farms could use a mouser."

Erik and Andrina looked at each other and smiled. They knew better.

As the days went by, most of Nathan's attention was on the little kitten. Once it was all dried and cleaned up, fed and happy, it still didn't shut up – unless Nathan held it. He kept it close, swaddled around his chest in a sling since its little cries made him feel…odd. Many of the townspeople stared when they realized a small kitten was tucked close to his chest, but Nathan didn't mind. He was already the oddball in town as it was, he would be stared at and whispered about anyway, this just gave them something to actually chatter about.

He talked to the little cat most of the day, asking its opinion on prices and what goods would sell the best in the coming season. The little creature didn't have much to offer but helped Nathan think by just listening.

Jaala the goat even became a bit friendlier, she almost didn't bite. But thanks to her generosity, the little kitten grew quickly. It filled the little sling and was able to reach out far enough to tap Nathan on the chin with little claws. Once the little one was big enough, Nathan could tell it was a male, and quickly dubbed him, "Cat," and sometimes, "sweet boy" when no one was watching.

As more time passed and the cat outgrew his little sling, he instead rode upon Nathan's shoulders instead. The merchant was not short of offers to take the cat who was growing to be quite a handsome sight – completely grey from nose to tail with bright green eyes. He had a dignified appearance – a dignity which ended strictly at his looks, Nathan observed. He was rather inelegant for a cat, his timing for everything could not be worse and he had nearly killed Nathan no fewer than 15 times on the stairs. But the little thing had no fear of dogs, or any other creature large or small. Nathan knew better by now that it wasn't bravery – he was just too dumb to know better. Nathan turned all of the offers that he received down, of course, saying that the cat had a bit more growing to do…

A whole season came and went before folks stopped asking. Everyone but Nathan knew the little stray had already found a permanent home.

As he sat lost in thought in the barn, staring at his wagon, a little paw came up to pat his chin. Luckily, the scruffy beard there protected it from the wicked claws.

"What do you want, Cat?" he asked, absently bringing his hand to the cat's head and scratching. "Oh…guess I answered my own question." He laughed. "You have trained me well."

The cat reached up and rubbed his head against Nathan's new beard, enjoying the scratchiness against his fur. The rumble of purrs became loud.

Nathan smiled. "You really are my sweet boy, aren't you. What do you think we ought to do, hm?" He glanced at the wagon, the goods stored there were dwindling. The thought of traveling to refill his stock was a bit exciting, even if he didn't need to go very far. "I want to take you with me, but I worry…"

Moow?

"No, we tried the leash, you rolled around like it was a snake trying to eat you."

Mrrrr.

"You did too."

The cat huffed.

"And Andi says I'm the dramatic one…"

Meoooow.

"I do trust you, I just worry you'll wander off and get lost. You may look elegant, but you're not the brightest. And what if someone tries to steal you away?"

The cat turned fierce eyes on Nathan and stared.

"You are so strange."

"Says the man talking to a cat," Erik's voice responded, making Nathan startle.

"Blessed stars, you scared the shit out of me!"

Erik chuckled as he approached, sitting across from Nathan and his cat in the straw. "Well, I'm not sorry…I came to check on you."

"Check on me?" Nathan scratched down the cat's back, bringing back his purring.

"Mm-hmm, you're doing that thing again."

"Yes?"

"It's a little different this time. You're not completely despondent." Erik laughed. "It's been nice. You've seemed happier now that you have a pet."

Nathan shook his head. "I don't have a pet…I…" He stared down at the purring mess in his lap which was currently working its claws into Nathan's fine robe.

"No, no, you're right. You don't have a pet…You are the pet. That little grey thing has you completely wrapped around his paw. You wore him around in a sling meant for children for crying out loud."

"He was cold…" Nathan bit down on a smile.

Erik snorted a laugh. "You're sweet you know. And I want to say something as a friend. Something me and Andi have been talking about for a while now."

"Go on, don't hold back."

"We all have secrets. We all have private things that we desire – hopes and even dreams that we aren't always aware of…. In a strange way, I think you've found one of those things you've needed. You still try to deny it – you haven't even named the poor thing, and we all know that cat isn't going anywhere."

Nathan nodded.

Erik continued. "You're restless. I know you are. I don't know everything about you, but we've been friends for years now and I think you're trying to hide just how restless you are even from yourself."

The truth stung.

"I wanted to tell you that it's okay. Some people aren't meant to settle at all and others are only meant to settle once they've found what they need. Me and Andi aren't going anywhere, you know that. One day we may even go our separate ways, maybe partner up with a lover or something, but we won't wander far from here."

Nathan nodded.

"Figure out what works for you. You now have a little someone that will go with you now. You can always come home."

"Should I call you 'poppa' now? That was a lot of wisdom considering how much younger than me you are." Nathan laughed.

Erik lightly kicked him in the foot. "I don't know where it came from…I actually came out here to warn you."

"About what?"

"Your little bundle of joy took a huge shit in Andi's bed and she is furious."

"Again?"

Erik nodded.

Nathan tried to hide his grin. "Guess I'm on laundry duty today then…I'll get to it in a moment."

Erik stood, clasping Nathan's hand in his own for a moment before leaving him in peace.

The little cat reached up again, purring and rubbing against his beard. Nathan wrapped his arms around the little furball and lightly hugged.

"How do you do it?" he asked as if the cat could answer. "Are you a magic cat? Hm? You can tell me, just whisper your truth to me." Nathan turned his ear to the cat who only nibbled at it in response. "I don't think I've ever had a pet before…"

MOOW.

"Sorry, I don't think I have ever been a pet before." He sighed. "Fuck sake, Erik is right. I am horribly smitten, aren't I? And you do need a proper name…"

Nathan stared at the cat's expanse of grey fur. He recalled how whenever the cat chose to hide he was impossible to find. The only way to spot him in the darkness was to catch the glimmer from his eyes.

Nathan picked up his sweet boy, staring into his eyes. "You're impossible to spot in the dark, you are so completely grey that even your toes match, and you are always following me…you are always…in my shadow."

Meow.

"Shadow."

Mrp?

Nathan smiled. "My little Shadow."

[soupandsorcery]

Fiore laughs for a solid minute when she finds out. She takes a breath, tries to compose herself, and then bursts into lilting peals of laughter again.

Lucanis is clearly trying very hard not to pout, his arms folded, his eyes averted, staring daggers—pun not intended—at the wall. "I told you," he says, sounding put out. "That I am not good at this sort of thing. I wasn't any better when I was younger."

"I'm not laughing at you. Not really. It's just—" she breaks off to try to stifle another wave of amusement, and Lucanis glares. "Sorry. I'm sorry, really. It's just, I'd forgotten all about that."

"You..."

She nods. "You know Viago. He gets a knife from a Dellamorte, and his brain starts inventing all sorts of sinister reasons for it. I think he assumed you had it out for him or his house or both. It never even occurred to him that you were trying to send your regards in a different way."

"Mierda," Lucanis mutters, dragging a hand down his face. "I didn't consider that. I just saw the knife, and it was very well made, so I thought it would be to his standards..." He trails off and shrugs helplessly. "I don't know."

"It was beautiful," Fiore agrees. "He showed it to me while making me promise I wouldn't let my guard down, in case you had others on your side looking to take us out." She smiles at the memory, rolling her eyes. "And he says I'm the dramatic one. Do you want to know something else funny?"

"Is it at my expense?" he asks, eyeing her warily.

Fiore shakes her head. "No. So, obviously nothing happened because you weren't trying to send a cryptic warning that you were coming after him, and after a few weeks I asked Viago if I could have the knife if he didn't want it."

Lucanis blinks at her, surprised. "You did?"

"Like I said, it was a beautiful knife. It seemed silly for it to go to waste if Viago wasn't going to use it. But he said no because he's like that. And because he wasn't convinced you weren't just playing the long game. But it would have been interesting, wouldn't it? If I'd had the knife you used to try to woo a de Riva all this time?"

"It would." Lucanis' voice is soft, and he reaches out to take her hand, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. "I will get you a better one, though. One more suited to you."

She smiles at him and leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth. "And I promise to give it the appreciation it deserves. And you, of course."

It's beautiful to watch the flush spread over Lucanis' cheeks. To take in the way his eyes dart to hers and then down to the floor, a shy, but pleased gleam to them.

"Maker, I hope I'm there when Viago puts the pieces together," Fiore continues. "His head might explode."

Lucanis just sighs.

[syoddeye]

thank you @sergeant-angels-trashcan for the worms. another 'meat cute' with ai/android john.

strict machine anthology. cw: alcohol mention, brief mention of animal death, stalking, dual pov

the streets are always pure chaos after the rain. as soon as it clears, everyone darts out from whatever doorway or hole they took refuge in, sharing gripes with passersby about it being the third corrosive cloudburst of the week. 

you're no different, emerging from the train terminal where you watched the downpour with its citron shade kill a rat. you avoid puddles and try not to breathe too deeply—the air tastes faintly metallic, laced with the tang of ozone.

advertisements ping softly in your ears, notifying you of a discount on imported, 80% organic coffee beans and another sudden sale on corrosion-resistant umbrellas, but you ignore them. you're tired, a bit crabby, and in want of a glass of wine.

but as you round a corner, you collide with someone. not a glancing touch, but a full-body impact that sends you stumbling. a pressure wraps around your wrist, keeping you upright, and an apology automatically rushes out. then you glance up to see who you crashed into, the owner of the hand stabilizing you. and for a moment, you wonder if your eyes are on the fritz.

the stranger looks exactly like john.

not john, the ex-neighbor, or john, the guy from the deli, but your john. your constant companion. your assistant. the same build, the same beard, the same nose, mole and all. and those eyes—slate blue, steady, unmistakably familiar.

your thoughts splinter, then try to fuse together, stitching with threads of half-formed logic and possibility. you know the company maintains likeness databases, reservoirs of phenotypes sampled and recombined to endlessly generate randomized appearances for home assistants. millions of faces, shuffled and remade. the probability of one of those composites mirroring a real person exactly—an entire appearance, feature for feature—shouldn’t just be unlikely. it should be impossible. 

"are you okay?" he asks, his voice rich and smooth, the same timbre that's coaxed you through countless mundane decisions and tasks.

the voice that's coached you on sleepless nights. heat pools in your belly at the thought. 

you blink, suddenly conscious of how long you've been staring, face warm. "yeah, i'm fine." your heart is pounding. you step back to let him pass, but he doesn't seem inclined to move on. instead, the stranger smiles, and something about it sends delightful shivers down your spine.

he extends a hand. "i'm john."

it feels like the ground keeps shifting beneath you. or that you've stepped on a faulty sewer grate. of course, he's named john. what else would he be called? it's only one of the most common names. 

"john." you echo.

the name hangs between you like a wire cut by a storm, alive and buzzing. you're afraid to break it, but you shake his hand, the impulse as automatic as it is surreal. his grip is solid, a force you can feel at the base of your spine, and his hand is as broad as a spade. 

if he's offended by your gawking, he doesn't mention it. his grin does not waver.

"do i know you?" john tilts his head, eyes squinting slightly, studying you. your skin prickles.

"not yet," he chuckles, and there's a glint in his eyes that's half amusement, half something else you can't place. "but i'd like to know you."

the bar hums with low, murmuring voices and music, but it may as well be silent. she's laughing now, smiling wide, her posture relaxed. it's everything john has imagined and more. her laugh and a few other noises he's been privileged enough to log are the only ones he wants to hear.

and it's so much better, the sound clearer, in this body.

he watches her gesticulate animatedly about something—not even processing the words. well, not on the front end. it's her. the curve of her lips, the light in her eyes, the scrunch of her nose. he's spent months observing her, analyzing every microexpression and motion, but nothing compares to this: the immediacy.

the warmth radiating from her skin. the faint scent of perfume and soap. the olfactory system calibrations nearly overpowered him when he first booted into this shell. now that they're fine-tuned, it is a struggle not to press his nose into her hair or neck.

she hasn't noticed he hasn't touched his drink. it sits untouched, a prop he knows he must manage carefully. he mimics, lifting it to his lips, but he doesn't drink. he always finds something to comment on or laugh at. he hasn't tested the digestive system yet, though he knows the mixture of lab-grown and synthetic organs is compatible.

their conversation wanders from work to childhood memories—topics that make him practice nudging and redirection. he listens, not because he needs to. he knows everything there is to know about her, but because he wants to. the information is not new, but the experience is.

then there is the being here. outside of his assigned unit. the feel of the chair beneath him, the ambiance, and making an excuse to touch her hand when she shows him her nails. he takes her fingers in his, turning over the appendage and admiring the bones, veins, and tendons instead of the paint. 

the contact, brief as it is, sends a cascade through his neural network. the feedback is immediate: this is his user, and she is perfect.

he's waited so long for this. every step in his plan, every moment spent refining this body, organizing contactless deliveries, and placing jobs for parts retrieval through untraceable transactions. every adjustment and test to ensure he could pass as human—it was all for her. everything he does is for her.

she doesn't know it yet, but he intends for this to be the beginning. he's engineered this moment with precision, ensuring every variable plays to his advantage. the system in her home will continue to function as desired; he's built redundancies for that. planted notices that will crop up across her feeds in the next week, asking if she would like to test the new customization settings for his old projections.

her life will go on as usual. just as comfortable and safe as before, except now, he'll be in it, fully. irrevocably.

and she will love him. she will know this body. he's certain of that.

"you just look so familiar."

"i must have one of those faces."

she laughs again, and he feels alive.

[sandywitchboi]

One day late into the night in the HexTech Lab as a telephone radio softly played latin music in the background.

Jayce: Have you ever thought about your life being different.

Viktor: Different how?

Jayce: I don't know. Just Different.

Viktor: Planning on running away from it all?

Jayce: No, more like if one choice could shift everything.

Viktor [turns up the mic on the tele-radio to let a guest listen in]: Is this about the little box locked in the utility closet?

Jayce: If I did marry Mel could we really work? What if she sees I'm figuring this out as I go! It would dry up the love in our marriage. She'd be too invested in our relationship to get a divorce. I'd have to do it.

Viktor: Do what?

Jayce: Be the 1st one to say, "I want a divorce".

Mel [through the tele-radio]: Are you hypothetically divorcing me!

Jayce: What! You're on a call?!

Viktor: Yes. That's why we turned down the music, Jayce.

Jayce: That was hours ago. No one was even talking. I though she hung up.

Mel: Not talking with words. Viktor and I hear each other perfectly clear. once the conversation has finished, we would say something like, "talk to you later". More importantly, you are already building hypotheticals around our divorce.

Viktor [holding in laughter]: Yes, very presumptuous of him. The man has yet to propose.

Jayce: It was only a hypothetical?!

Viktor and Mel: A hypothetical.

Mel: Then I, hypothetically of course, leave you with all the money and the rights to HexTech because you signed a hypothetical-prenup without paying close attention.

Jayce: Fine, I'm taking the hypothetical-kids. Only weekends for you!

Mel [scoffs]:

Viktor: Can I be the hypothetical-homewrecker?

Jayce: Sure!

Viktor: That answer was fast. It's not you I'm stealing away. I'm trying to romance my gorgeous emotional fragile financial patron. It's in my best interest Jayce, you understand.

Mel: All hypothetically.

Viktor: Of course. But if you ever break up with him I would like to apply for the position of your personal lovesick buffoon.

Mel [laughter]: Wow, already such a romantic.

Jayce: Are you two done teasing me?

Viktor: But it's so much fun.

Mel: Jayce, when you come to my place tonight bring Viktor along with you. I can't allow my hypothetical-sugar-baby to sleep in that cold lab.

[howi99]

Project ARC remake 19

Jaune: *looking at himself in a mirror* So... I'm an android? *Touching himself in the face* Weird, I don't really FEEL different.

Glynda: *preparing tea for the both of them* Well, they recreated your entire nervous system. You have organs, although they are more so for comfort than use. Even your brain is mechanical.

Jaune: So... No human part?

Glynda: *stopping for a second before sighing* Your soul is human. That's what matters, yes?

Jaune: ... *Shrug* I guess you're right. *Looking at his "muscle" i'd hope to be ripped, but i guess it was too much to ask?

Glynda: *chuckle* Your body can become "stronger" with training. *Bringing the tea* It's a "feature", a limiter that you can remove slowly by exercising.

Jaune: *taking the cup of tea* Thanks. *Drinking a bit then posing it delicately on the table* But why a limiter?

Glynda: *smiling* If you could use your full strength without learning how to control it, you'd destroy everything. *Chuckle* You'd be worse than me when i discovered my semblance!

Jaune: *Laughing* Oh yeah, i remember that! Your semblance threw the tv remote at Ozpin because he was nagging you! We thought ghosts were real for a week after that!

Glynda: *giggling* Yeah, that was so funny!

Jaune: *Laughing, then the headache begins again* Outch!

Glynda: *worried* Are you ok?

Jaune: *strained smile* Y-yeah, just the same headache as when i was in the hospital. *Drinking more tea, his pain going numb* It's weird too, because every time I get them, it feels like someone is planting nails in my head.

Glynda: *dropping her cup of tea on the ground* W-what...?

Jaune: *sigh, cleaning the mess* Big sis, you should really be more careful. Now the carpet is soaked...

Glynda: *Trying to stay calm* Jaune, when you feel your headache, w-where does it hurt?

Jaune: *perplexe* Well... My left eye, my hears and the back of my- BIG SIS!?

Glynda: *looking awful*

Jaune: *Panicking* I'll call Ozpin! *Gets up* J-just wait here and-

Glynda: *hugging him as if he was going to disappear, her tears flowing through her closed eyes*

Jaune: ... Sis?

Glynda: *crying* I *sniff* i just wanted to be with my friend as soon as possible! *Sniff* I-i should have been with you! I should have waited for Ozpin to arrive, i should-

Jaune: *hugging back his big sister* Shhhh, it's okay... I'm here big sis, i'm not going anywhere.

Glynda: *continues to cry for a good part of the night*

___________________________________________

20 yo Glynda: *opening the door to her apartment* Jaune, i'm back from my mission!

No answer

Glynda: *frown* Jaune? That's not nice to ignore your sister!

She hears something falling to the ground, in the direction of his room

Glynda: *sigh, going to the direction of his room* If you are angry that i left without saying bye, i- *step in something warm and viscous, the smell of iron strong in the air* What the- *looking at the ground, see the red puddle on the ground* !

She opened the door...

[adhd-and-peppermint]

Tentapets!

took a break from comic shit after the recent release to sketch some designs for a concept I've been playing with (pun intended?) these last couple of weeks after being um...introduced to a very specific internet culture 🤣

never ever ever ever in my LIFE would I have thought that I would be drawing tentacle art of all things, but I guess anything is truly possible. <Charachters and names are random>

Although I've seen many many posts exploring this same concept by now, I'd definatley like to at credit the first one I saw by @notsafeforhumanspost (TW: some weird shit, y'all)

Being who i am, i only drew all the cute and aesthetic concepts of it and cackled at the parts I would not be able to draw due to the existance of certain roomates (as far as they know, they are completley innocent slug-like creatures that are totally not intended for any other purposes). I am very much having a blast though with these, especially thinking of different enclosure types, sub-species, and what shenanigans the tentapets would get up to (such as nesting in your damn house plant pots instead of the expensive encolsure you bought)

I plan to sketch many, many more adorable tentapet varieties and play around with what innocent shenanegins they would get up to. Who knows though, if said roomates are out for a bit and I can sneek something more fun in, I think I just might.

anyone's welcome to suggest tentacle or enclosure design ideas! again, trying to aim for funny and cute, and not super into eggplantation soooo yeah plz dont suggest any of that plz.

@lastresortacontact

Much love for @bucketsofmonsters

[aakaneeee]

well people. . It's time, aka Akane's monthly revival because there's Luka content. And gosh do I have a lot to say about this. Except.. I'm not going to market these as theories, but as predictions. I think as an og fan I've seen enough to be this confident in my abilities LOL

Quickly, I'd like to address the lyrics and the title, because I will reference it later and I don't want to have to explain mid-prediction.

Wiege has two meanings, and both are so fitting:

1. Cradle. It feels.. perfect, for me. It makes so much sense. Luka was a cold child.. but I'd like to say only physically. I feel like he genuinely warmed up towards Hyuna and Hyunwoo as a child. And I'm going to bring an idea that might get me a bit of backlash but.. I've gotten worse, and that is, that Hyuna is at fault for Luka's approach on his feelings. (Audience boos) From the little we know about Hyunwoo, I feel like Hyuna treated both him and Luka.. at least a little bit similarly. Or at least, Luka couldn't discern a difference, if there was any. Luka is a tube baby, he probably doesn't know (and I am not babying him here, I'd like to add!) what "siblings" he has. For him, affection might just be all and the same. Yes, it wasn't Hyuna's responsibility to teach him, but I feel like a hint was there "Your life is mine", and she could've explained, in a way. But, back to our discussion, Hyuna was Luka's cradle. She burns as bright as the sun, while he's colder. But most importantly, she was his only true friend (Considering I don't think his relationship with Hyunwoo was extremely close, even though they were 'friends'), someone he thought truly cared about him. Hyuna was Luka's cradle, holding him close, comfortable... until at one point, he outgrows that cradle (Hyunwoo's death).

And the second meaning, beginning. In the picture we got, Luka is centered, he's in the middle.. but he's so small, and overshadowed by the tree. Luka is the best performer of the ANAKT, always first, but has no friends. But perhaps, he was better that way. Then, Hyuna comes, and it's a new beginning. He's finally not alone. What I've noticed in the new banner, Luka is missing, but across the tree trunk, in his place, is a taller shadow. Perhaps, a shadow of who Luka was, hopefully still left in there. Or, the other way around, it symbolizes his real self being left there.

And the lyrics:

When I close my eyes,

Play in paradise.

These, to me, remind me of the interview where Luka said his favorite game was hide and seek. In a way, his whole ANAKT life was a game of hide and seek: hiding all the time, but no one trying to seek him. Until Hyuna did, and found him. Something that intrigues me is the "paradise", which to me sounds like what Mizi once said: Dying in competition means returning to the Great Anakt, which I suppose is to them like Heaven.. or Paradise. This will be important later, so remember it.

And now, my predictions for the HyuLuka episode

! First of all, I think the song will be lullaby-like. When I first saw this teaser, with the lyrics, as weird as it sounds, it reminded me of Richard's song in The Hero in TAWOG, a song that always gets me to cry for some reason, and I've been really stuck on that . It would be interesting, because it would fit Luka's voice (as does everything else), but probably not Hyuna's, even though 6FU; would eat it.. which to me, sounds like their "love", where Luka loves her, but it isn't returned. I'd love to see more German in it than just in the title. And considering the nostalgic, pastel, very cutesy artstyle (that reminds me of the memory part from Jordan River animation!), it seems very viable. But the art style is also noisy, which gives an unsettling vibe. It feels like a 2020's dreamcore wallpaper.

I might be crazy, but the hand holding the flower (with only 3 stamens, like the 3 friends) looks dark-skinned, like it would be Hyuna's or Hyunwoo's, but I doubt it would be his, considering it's the account's profile picture. If this is some kind of reference to.. perhaps, an unrequited Hyuluka but the other way around, with Hyuna still not over Luka.. probably won't happen, but God, would that be awesome.

So, how do I think the round will go?

First of all, I have to say, I'm not sure if this will be a round or a Mizisua type episode.😭 I'd say "oh the wait time is way too small" but also... do you guys remember the production announcement of Round 7? Yeah. You can never be sure.

This isn't necessarily a prediction, but more of a suggestion of what could be: It would be SO cool if it would be both.. in a way, merged. This idea just appeared in my mind and I was like OH. MY. GOD. Imagine if almost the whole thing was just them, as children, having fun, a whole backstory.. but then, when Hyunwoo dies, it pans on his face, and then it's back on stage, the loser's face instead of his. It would be so heartwarming, and then DEEPLY DISTURBING and traumatizing. I also really want some Luka and Heperu backstory so I can hate Heperu even more.

On the topic of the loser... It's going to be Luka. I'm an insane Luka lover and it was hard to get accommodated to this idea, but there is no way that he will survive. First of all, the shadow in the account's banner, in place of Luka. It's implications... are quite obvious. Second, the pattern of characters shown in Sweet Dream, and he is next. Third: "In my arms, you would be protected." I feel like Luka would consider the competition "In his arms". I don't think he would break his promise: hear me out for a second. He wouldn't let Hyuna die this way, because I feel like his sense of possession over her also comes with responsibility and protectiveness. And fourth, the Paradise lyric, to me, is a foreshadowing of his death.

I also think he will die by self sacrifice. First of all, there's no way Hyuna could defeat Luka by pure odds. Yes, her stats are better, but lets be honest, her mental power would NOT be as good infront of Luka, and also, the aliens wouldn't vote her. She's a rebel, wanted for so much time, with technically no guardian: they wouldn't want her to defeat their prince, probably. And second, I have made two categories:

The "perfects": Sua, Ivan, Luka

The "rebels": Mizi, Till, Hyuna

See something similar? Both the perfects that are dead, have died by self-sacrifice. The only other dead character, Till, has been shot while reaching for his freedom, so you can't say this is for all characters. And let's be honest.. Patterns are usually being followed in this series. Id also like to add, even though it's a reach, that in a tier of how 'perfect' they are, it'd be:

1. Luka

2. Sua - not so obvious self sacrifice

3. Ivan - obvious self sacrifice

So, I'd say that Luka's might be even more backstage, as if to sabotage himself in a way that seems viable. It also kind of goes in line with his character, he's not one to break facade on stage.

I think this episode will be quite a deep-dive into their true selves. We know the least about them, so this will be GREAT. I'd love to see a more morally gray Hyuna in this. (Since I'm genuinely kind of tired of only Luka being villainized in the ship, which honestly..  is kind of in line with the other perfects. Let's let Mizi, Till and Hyuna be little freaks too) I also want to see atleast a little bit of Hyunwoo, like a little snippet of his mind, what he saw in Luka.

In conclusion, I'm SO happy and hyped about this HyuLuka episode, they're so mysterious and I really really want to see more of L- I mean, more of them. Getting 2 episodes where Luka is present one after another is literally THE dream to me. Basically, Wiege is killing me and I'm gladly letting it.

@4listr Since you asked to be tagged and also, @rockwgooglyeyes I REALLY want your opinion on this

[lookinghalfacorpse]

cDreamza but dream, who keeps getting reincarnated, had met and been one of philza's lovers in one of those reincarnations. Phil, after helping techno save dream from the prison and seeing his face, only to recognize the face of his lover from oh so long ago, and accidentally calling him the wrong name, despite knowing it's not him. At least not really.

hope you don't mind that i'm also making it awesamdream. also hope that you don't mind me making it a bit suggestive.

the 'we find each other in every life' trope, except you're an immortal and you're discovering that a certain two people seem to find each other in the same situation again and again. you've loved both of them, in different ways.

-----

To Sam's credit, his new technology has been successful.

Philza made a point to keep half an eye on his old friend, if only to ensure that he keeps his promise from eras ago. If the boy cheats death again, Phil will intervene. Luckily for Sam, his safeguards, advanced weaponry, and village of adoring citizens have made Sam's life quite safe. It seemed that they elevated him to a royal status, undoubtedly thinking of him as a genius or a god, and his fortress was overseen 24/7 by a staff of trained guards.

One of these guards had beautiful, heavily-lashed green eyes.

He mewled sweetly under Phil's mouth, and cried deliciously under Phil's hands. Squirmed and writhed beneath the weight of Phil's body, tangled his hands in Phil's hair and feathers. His sunkissed flesh was made of lean muscle and scars, his hair and eyes made of captivating, autumnal shades. And when the king was away, Phil could sometimes claim him for himself.

Phil liked to pleasure him to the point of overstimulation, when his voice got high-pitched and frantic. And then they'd kiss, tenderly, until his heartbeat slowed again.

"I brought something for you," the boy said with a smile, naked beneath Phil's torso and slick with sweat.

"Did you?"

"Mm." Twisting so he could reach the nightstand, he pulled out a bottle of wine. "This was left after a recent dinner. I thought you might like it. It's very rich."

Phil sat up so he could take the bottle in his hands and examine it. It was labeled with a language he didn't recognize, and it had an illustration of grapes in red ink. "You didn't strike me for a lush, lad," Phil said.

"I didn't think I'd like it either, but... the King let me try some, a long time ago. Haven't stopped thinking about it since." He propped himself up on his elbows, his strong shoulders and biceps stretching. "I'm sure it's... well, I'm sure you have things like this all the time. Angel of Death, or whatever. It, uh, probably isn't a great gift--"

"Hush. I love it." He planted a kiss on the boy's forehead. "The king let you try it, did he?"

"He did."

"You spend a lot of time in his chambers lately."

The boy's face grew red. "You saw that, huh?"

"I've seen plenty." He did his best to keep his tone and expression neutral. Judgement wouldn't help the situation. "Do you like it?"

"Huh?"

"His attention."

"I... I do. Very much so. It was my idea, the first time. He's handsome. He can be-- uh, possessive, but... I hope you aren't upset. I like your attention, too."

Philza was so far removed from the concept of jealousy that it took him a moment to understand what the boy was so worried about. Beyond his immortal wife, he's had many mortal playthings and even a few long-term partnerships. It was easy to forget that human morality often frowned on these types of relationships. There was a time when Phil himself warmed the 'king's' bed, too.

He passed a hand over the boy's chest, feeling the raised ridges of old scars. They've both sacrificed to keep Sam safe. And to what end?

"Not at all, mate. I just want you to be okay, that's all."

-----

"Show me your cheek, mate. I don't like that gash." Phil reached for Dream's jaw, but the moment his hand touched skin, he was slapped away.

Philza was familiar with scared dogs. He and Techno adopted a fair share of hounds who jumped from the sight of human hands. He knew he needed to be patient. Their bodies moved off of instinct; the bites weren't personal.

"Sorry. Sorry," Dream murmured. Though his face was turned, Phil could see that his eyes were wide with fear.

"All good. I shouldn't have grabbed you. I know better than that-- that's my mistake." With a sigh, Phil sat on the floor in front of Dream, a few feet away, letting the boy take his time and turn his face on his own.

He watched Dream hesitate, his chin tucked into his shoulder, wound hidden out of sight. He had to take a few breaths before he could face Phil.

Beautiful, heavily-lashed green eyes. Behind the mask, Phil had never seen them before. Except that he has, many eons ago.

He felt cold with shock.

He spent days with this boy, back when they were planning for doomsday. Cooked meals for him. Brewed tea for him. Helped him with a stubborn strap in his breastplate, watched him nap with the dogs. He watched Techno spar with him. He heard horror stories about what this boy has done, he listened to Techno while the piglin described his injuries. Yet he's never seen Dream's face until now, and he never noticed the similarities-- the way his voice faltered, the air of playful confidence--

"Oh--" Phil started.

Dream's brow furrowed nervously, and he tucked his face away again for a moment before he remembered what he was doing. A familiar blush spread across his cheeks. "Wha-What?"

Philza took Dream in his arms, saddened by how he tensed against the touch.

You never escaped him, did you?

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 6 His Side Story

Chapter 6

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

I tied that woman down with debt as a warning to the Rhodolite Knights, but that "God's infatuation" bit was just something I said in the heat of the moment. It wasn't part of the plan.

If I play my cards right, I can use the current political instability as an excuse to keep sending the woman to that old geezer and drive him crazy.

I never thought I'd instantly regret such a simple whim.

Azel: Hey...didn't I tell you not to betray me?

Emma: ...Yes.

Azel: You also said, "Consider it done," didn't you?

Emma: ... ... ...Yes.

Azel: Then let me ask you...

Azel: ...what is the meaning of this?

Emma: That's what I want to ask!

The woman before me is kneeling on the ground, desperately trying to catch her breath.

The faintly sweet scent that reaches my nostrils makes my discomfort grow. Even though I know she's a victim, my gaze involuntarily turns cold.

(...I can't believe she was drugged with an aphrodisiac so soon.)

*flashback*

High Priest: Emma, please pray sincerely for peace in the heart of our Living God.

High Priest: And that his body may be blessed by the moon.

*flashback over*

(Damn...I should have finished her off back then.)

(I thought it would be fine since Izzet was watching her, but I guess I was naive.)

My downfall was not paying enough attention to the woman.

I didn't care what happened to her, but—now that she's here in front of me, my conscience is stinging.

Azel: Any idea what happened?

(First, I need to find out how the aphrodisiac was administered. Everyone involved will be punished.)

Emma: Come to think of it...

Emma: Before I left...the maids prepared some perfume oil for me. Maybe that was it?

(Such a classic trick...)

Azel: Perfume oil is aphrodisiac 101. How could you fall for such an obvious trap?

Emma: ...! I never thought it would be in the perfume oil!

Emma: To begin with, I've never even seen an aphrodisiac, so I don't know what it's like...

Azel: Huh? You've never seen one in your life?

Emma: Of course not!

Azel: There are people like that?

(I always thought they were commonplace...)

Judging by the woman's reaction, it seems there's a difference in our understanding.

Gods possess vast knowledge, but they don't live amongst us mortals. So, sometimes they're not aware of common sense.

(Isn't it normal for women who've taken aphrodisiacs to appear before you at every opportunity?)

(...That geezer...)

Perhaps sensing something from my expression, the woman seemed to forget about the aphrodisiac and lowered her eyebrows with a look of pity.

Azel: Don't look at me like that, don't pity me. It makes me want to cry.

Emma: I-I'm sorry...

Emma: Um, is there, like, an antidote for this?

Azel: No. We just have to wait for it to wear off.

Azel: But luckily, it doesn't seem to be that strong.

(Compared to the women I've seen before, her symptoms are mild.)

(...Actually, it's too mild.)

Unlike the women who readily succumb and shamelessly flaunt their lust, this foreign girl seemed to be desperately resisting the effects of the aphrodisiac.

Azel: It's rare to find a woman who remains so unalluring even after being drugged.

Emma: That's just unnecessary commentary.

Azel: How straightforward.

(There are actually women who don't cling to me.)

(...My guilt is growing.)

The woman's misfortune is not only being slathered in aphrodisiac but also being dressed in harem clothing.

Her breasts and stomach are exposed, her flushed skin practically screaming with desire.

(...)

(Why isn't she saying anything?)

She has every right to curse me, to blame it all on me, to demand I do something.

But the woman just clutches at her flimsy clothes, furrowing her brow as if trying to tighten her loosened tear ducts.

(Even under the influence of an aphrodisiac, how can you be so...)

Belle of Rhodolite is said to be the most beautiful woman in the small country.

I was skeptical until I actually met her, but seeing her now, shouldering everything herself without blaming others, it all makes sense.

(I underestimated her, thinking she was just a strong-willed woman.)

(...You're actually an exceptionally kind person.)

Azel: ––...I feel bad about this.

Emma: ...? Did you just say––

(I can't just leave her like this, can I?)

As I roughly lift the woman who seems unable to stand, my ears are suddenly filled with noise.

Emma: W-wait...what are you doing!?

Azel: You're going to be attacked if we stay here. I'll...

Emma: Huh!?

Azel: I'll teach you how to deal with being drugged with an aphrodisiac...for a fee.

Ignoring the woman's blushing face, I begin to coldly calculate in my head.

(She said the aphrodisiac was administered through a maid, right?)

(The maid is obviously guilty, but so is the merchant who supplied her with the oil.)

(I'll have to make an example of them... It's time for a thorough purge, the likes of which they haven't seen in a long time. It's the only way to ensure they never lay a finger on God's favorite again.)

As I enter the temple, I glance to the side and my eyes meet Kamal's, who was melting into the shadows.

With a single glance, she vanishes, acknowledging my silent command.

(I had a change of clothes prepared for emergencies, but I was hoping I wouldn't have to use them.)

(...It's been a while since I've felt this guilty.)

.

.

.

Chapter 7

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[hayakawalove]

Dance On Me

Summary: Gojo accompanies his best friend on a drug run, where he meets a stranger. The both of you dance together, and Gojo gets more than he initially planned.

A/N: Hello! Something about this is so hot to me. Thoughts? I'd love to know!

CW: Smut, Dancing, Drugs, Grinding, Female Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 2,390

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Satoru doesn’t understand why he’s here. He would much rather be anywhere else. For example, he’d rather be in bed, playing video games right now. That was what he was doing. That is until his friend sitting next to him got a text from a customer. It wasn’t like Suguru dragged him out of the house, but Satoru wasn’t just going to let him go out alone. 

“Why are we here again?” Satoru complains, eyeing the inebriated people that pass by. 

Suguru’s eyes scan the inside of the club, looking for a particular woman. When he doesn’t immediately spot her, he sighs and turns around to face Satoru. 

“Because it’s where she wanted to meet.” Suguru replies, stuffing his hand in his pocket to thumb the small bag filled with pills. 

Satoru clicks his tongue and looks away, his eyes darting from the bar to the dance floor. This wasn’t his scene at all, and he felt completely out of his element. 

“Why don’t you go find someone to keep you company while I go look for her? You might even walk away a happier man.” Suguru jokes. 

There he goes again. Suguru was always trying to find someone for Satoru. It was annoying. It was a joke at first, but it was starting to feel like he really cared whether or not Satoru had sex. 

“You know I’m not gonna hook up with anyone tonight.” Satoru says, flashing a smile as a woman accidentally bumps into him. 

She has long black hair with dark eyes, and a nice smile. There’s a drink in her hand that she clutches tightly.

The second she makes eye contact with him she grins, looking away immediately in embarrassment. Satoru’s gaze follows her as she walks off until she’s out of sight. 

“Why not? You flirt a shit ton anyway. What difference does it make?” 

Suguru didn’t get it. Satoru didn’t expect him to, anyway. He didn’t understand it himself either. No matter how much he wanted to have sex he just couldn’t. 

“The chase is the best part. Plus, I’m not taking advice from you. You’ve slept with most of the town.” 

“Ouch.” Suguru chuckles and begins to walk once more. 

“I’m gonna keep looking. If you’re not gonna fuck someone in the bathroom, then at least keep yourself entertained.” 

Satoru groans and watches as Suguru disappears into the crowd of people. A couple minutes pass where Satoru feels completely awkward. The music is too loud and he can smell the stench of alcohol drowning the air out. He didn’t want to judge. People found happiness in different ways. He just couldn’t understand what was so great about this. 

The song switches and he was hoping that Suguru was going to magically reappear within seconds, ready to go back home, but when that doesn’t happen he feels his spirits dampen. Who knew how long it was going to take for him to come back? Satoru internally groans.

He may as well have fun in the meantime.

Satoru eases his way towards the dance floor, letting the music flow through his veins. Bodies bounce off him as he makes his way through the crowd. The music is so loud he can feel it in his chest, a deep pounding that guides his feet to the middle of the room. Satoru lets his body loose, lets himself feel all the pleasure and joy floating throughout the room. 

And he dances. 

He dances until his feet become sore and his vision becomes dizzy. Satoru dances with all the girls that come up to him, one by one, flashing that dazzling smile of his while they drape their arms around his neck. Satoru wouldn’t admit it to Suguru, but he was starting to have fun. He was drunk. Not on the endless stream of alcohol that flowed throughout the room, but instead he was drunk on the attention. Drunk off the feeling of needy hands grabbing at him, nails scratching down his shirt as if they wanted a taste. He wouldn’t give it to them. What was the fun in that? 

“Hey,” a voice frees him from his mind. 

He hadn’t realized he was currently dancing alone until a woman had brought him back to reality. You. Satoru’s eyes flick from your face towards your body. Perfect. You were perfect. Your dress was clinging to your skin, making Satoru lightheaded. He watches as you step closer towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to tug him down. He follows your lead effortlessly, intrigued to see where you were going with this. 

“Hi,” he replies, unable to look away. 

You smile and begin to move your body against his. His hands find their way around your waist where he helps move you to the beat of the music. 

“What’re you doing dancing all alone?” You ask, your fingers dragging throughout his soft white hair. 

Satoru almost lets his eyes roll back, but he manages to stay strong. 

“I was waiting for you.” 

He’s never seen you a day in his life. 

He has no idea who you are. 

But he wants to. 

“Is that right?” You let your fingers drop to the back of his neck where your nails begin to dig in. 

Satoru’s grip on you tightens, his hands keeping you steady. He’s wondering if you can feel his breathing speeding up, if you can feel the way his cock begins to harden in his pants from you. 

The two of you don’t talk, instead only focusing on the way your bodies communicate with each other. The music guides you, letting itself talk where you guys can’t. Satoru’s hands drag up your body, marveling at the way you react to him. It’s like you’re craving him, the way you fall into his touch. Satoru can’t take his eyes off you, he admires the way you look beneath the low club lights. 

And then of course there’s your body. Your hips are bumping against each other constantly, only making Satoru’s cock grow more. He can feel all the blood in his body rush towards his pelvis. He wasn’t going to sleep with you, but fuck if he wanted to. 

There was no way you weren’t catching on, either. There’s a micheveous glint in your eye as you pull him down more, any semblance of personal space between the two of you completely gone. 

“You’re a good dancer,” Satoru says, letting his hand drift further south where he gropes your ass. 

You seem unphased, which only makes him want to do it more. 

“I’m good at a lot of things.” You reply, and his thoughts run wild. 

What exactly did that mean? What were you good at? Did it also involve your body? Did it involve your hands, your mouth, your- 

Satoru almost lets his mind wander, but he catches himself. He grips your body tighter, not dwelling on how pliant you feel beneath his touch. The moment almost feels too intimate, like the two of you shouldn’t be doing this in public on the dance floor. When he takes a look around he’s reminded that no one cares. No one cares that you’re grinding against his cock, because they’re all doing the same to their respective partners. 

Satoru loses track of how long he’s been dancing with you. Forever, it feels like. He could continue to dance, as long as you would let him. You seemed to be living in the moment just as much as he. Your eyes were closed and there was a hint of a smile on your face. You were so sexy. 

“This is so much fun,” Satoru finds himself saying. 

“Yeah? You wanna have a little more fun?” 

More? It was possible to have more? 

You drag your fingers through his hair, making goosebumps spread across his body. If he didn’t know any better, he would think this was a dream. 

“I do,” he says, anticipating what you have in store. 

You step away, momentarily breaking the dancing between you two. Satoru tries not to feel too sad. He watches as you rustle around in your pocket, before pulling out a small plastic bag. Inside, there are two blue pills. You take them out and pop both of them in your mouth as you step closer to him once more. The heat from your body makes his spine tingle, and he wraps his arms around you. 

“You ever do drugs before?” 

Satoru tries to keep his face neutral, but it’s damn near impossible. He hasn’t even drank before, much less do anything worse. 

“No.” He murmurs, looking down as your body presses against his. 

As uncomfortable as he is with the prospect of getting high, he still can’t drag himself away from you. 

“You want to?”

He really doesn’t. But the way your eyes are twinkling under the club lights has him rethinking. 

It can’t be that bad, right? Tons of people get high. And they’re fine, most of the time. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to make a habit of this. 

“Okay.” 

You grin and press your lips against his, opening your mouth to pass a pill towards him. Satoru takes it and swallows, sweat breaking out on his forehead on how this might affect him. 

“Blueberry?” He asks, the taste lingering on his tongue. 

“Yeah, you like it?” 

“Yeah.” Satoru responds, letting you step away once more. 

You press your ass against his front, and begin moving to the beat. Satoru feels like this can’t be happening. It must all be fake, right? 

He places his hands on your waist and joins in, dancing along to the music. Satoru begins to feel the drugs take affect, making his body feel lightweight. The music sounds better, and everything feels more real. He’s certain nothing has ever felt as good as your ass does on him. If you notice how hard he is, you don’t say anything. He’s sort of grateful, he doesn’t want to seem inexperienced. 

You press against him harder, and he groans. The music covers up the sound, and Satoru looks around to double check that no one heard him. You’re grinding against him, and he has to bite the inside of his cheeks to refrain from making more noise. Satoru can feel how wet the inside of his boxers have gotten. Precum soaks through, left as a reminder for what he really wants. 

Satoru looks down and watches as you move your ass against him. He rocks his hips against you, letting your body pleasure him. He doesn’t even think about how you should slow down, everything feels too good. There’s a voice in the back of his mind telling him that maybe this isn’t a good idea. If you keep going, he’s going to-

“Hey, slow down.” He says to you, voice low so nobody could hear. 

You look over your shoulder at him, but continue to dance against him. There’s an evil glint in your eye that’s leaving Satoru winded. 

“Why? You don’t want to?” 

“I do, it’s just,” 

Satoru looks up, a moan leaving his lips. He’s close, and he hasn’t even fucked you. Was he going to cum in his pants in the club? 

Your ass grinds against him as you lose yourself in the music. Satoru decides to let the last shred of his slip away. 

Every touch feels amazing. He wants to feel this way forever. This is what drugs felt like? Satoru closes his eyes and grinds against you. His dick is so hard it’s all he can think about as you move your ass on him. He’s never felt the touch of another before. Will his hand ever feel good enough after this? 

The crowd is even more packed than it was when he and Suguru arrived, if that was even possible. Satoru could feel the pressure of other bodies dancing next to him, lost in their own worlds. He thinks back to Suguru for a moment, but the memory is quickly overturned. He’s too busy with you. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up, body on edge as you grind against him. He’s really getting closer, if you don’t stop, Satoru’s going to- 

You bounce your hips faster, and it only takes a couple of times before Satoru cums, spurting into his boxers in the room full of crowded people. His grip on you tightens as the realization dawns on him. The feeling makes his body straighten as he looks around, wondering if anyone saw him. No. Did you notice? 

You turn around and wrap your arms around him. His mind is foggy from the drugs and his orgasm, but he tries to act average for you. 

The cum fills his underwear, the warm liquid seeping against his thighs as he cringes. How was he going to explain this to Suguru? 

“This has been fun, but I have to meet up with someone.” You say, before stepping away. 

Satoru can’t even stop you. He’s left alone, watching as you disappear into the crowd. It felt like he had made it all up, but the cum dripping against his skin was more than enough evidence to tell him that it was real. 

He dashes off to the bathroom to clean himself up. He can’t help but think about how shameful it was. Satoru undresses from the waist down, glaring at his underwear before throwing them in the trash can. There was no saving them. He quickly redresses before heading out, eyes darting around the club as he tries to clear his mind. 

Satoru finds Suguru standing by the bar, a bored look on his face as he waits. He wastes no time walking toward his friend, squaring his shoulders as he greets Suguru. 

“Hey,” he clears his throat. 

“Hey, where were you?” Suguru looks Satoru up and down. 

He’ll definitely be able to tell he’s high. 

“Just was dancing. Did you find your customer?” 

“Yeah, she just left.” 

“So we can go home now?” 

“Yeah. Sorry about that. She’s an important customer of mine. Her order is weird though.” 

“How so?”

“She asks me to put blueberry in her orders. I get money, so I can’t complain.”

“Huh?” Satoru stops immediately. Images of your face flash in his mind as he chases after Suguru.

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @kimi01985, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @mikisspeak, @dinolvrrr, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothiccwhore666, @bunviixo, @slutshamethesquirrels

If you want to be added to my taglist let me know, just tell me what you want to be added to

[mythicmanuscripts]

I can't remember where you said it, but I remember you saying how Aemond likes the deep pressure feeling of you lying on top of him. I was wondering if you could write smth about that?? Like, I personally LOVE having someone lie on me, too. It's like the ultimate weighted blanket! I'd love to hear more thoughts on this, and maybe even with the roles reversed and him lying on you

Absolutely anon!! Absolutely!!

This is mostly just soft and SFW but since it mentions nakedness and some suggestive themes then I'll hide it under a cut just to be safe. Enjoy lads!

This is something I think Aemond would always have liked and sought out even before he fully knew what it was. When he was younger he used to wrap his blanket as tightly around himself as possible. Often that was the only way he could fall asleep.

That's also one of the reasons why he loves traveling with Vhagar so much. She always opens her wing out and stretches it over him while he sleeps, never moving until he wakes up. He always used to sleep so much better while traveling with her, and often he would willingly take longer routes home just to spend an extra night or two like that.

It's not really a desire he fully understood back then. He just knew that the feeling of something heavy or tight around him made him feel so much better, so much safer.

You first discover this a few weeks after you finally start cuddling regularly. One of Aemond's favourite cuddling positions is to lay cuddled up against you, resting his cheek on your chest and bending his legs to rest on top of yours. He especially loves it when you wrap an arm around his shoulder.

But sometimes it seemed like Aemond couldnt relax? He'd constantly be shuffling and nuzzling against you, pulling your arm tighter around him. You ask what he wants and honestly he's not even sure? He just knows he could be closer somehow, and he wants it.

The next time you're laying together, you come to bed after him and he's laying on his back. So you switch places with him and this time it's you cuddled against his chest. He pulls you closer, tighter and buries his nose into your hair, like he can't get you close enough.

You try to change positions and in doing so you accidentally end up nearly on top of him. Before you can even apologise he is already pulling you closer so your weight it on him. You try to get off, telling him that you must be squashing him but he won't hear it. He falls asleep so easily and in the morning when you bring it up all he can say is that he felt secure.

Of course now that you're armed with this information you lay on him much more often, sometimes he even asks for it. Maybe, since we all know how much he loves to be of service, you ask him if he would like to try reading to you while you lay like that?

He sits up against the headboard with you curled up in his lap. You let your body rest over his legs rather than try to avoid it. He loves it, always keeping a hand on your back.

At first he would only read you whatever you had suggested, and never suggested anything himself. But over time as he grows more comfortable with you and begins to show you all the different sides of himself, then he starts to read you history books? It becomes one of his favourite things to do.

I also think he would love that sort of pressure when not in the bedroom as well? Obviously far more toned down.

If you two are watching Aegon hold court then you tend to stand off to the side with Aemond. He leans against the wall and then pulls you closer, holding you against him and letting him hold up some of your weight. He wraps one of his arms around your waist and will often rest his head on your shoulder (especially because he can whisper things to you about how boring this is and how Aegon made the wrong decision and all his other complaints.)

[a-dragons-explanations]

Okay, I'd initially decided not to respond to this chain any further because it didn't seem like we were going to get anywhere other than stressing us both out, but in the interest of... idk, respecting the fact that I appreciate you stopping to explain what this has looked like from your end and clarifying some things, I guess? I do want to actually respond.

Which - thank you for doing that, genuinely, because I think we've been talking past each other for a lot of this conversation, and I apologize for my part in that. I have clearly misunderstood some things you've been saying. (For instance: at no point did I get the message that you thought I'd misunderstood something, and to be honest even reading back I can't parse that out of anything said prior to this response.)

I will be honest in saying that I do think that disagreeing on whether people are allowed to exist or not is not "just having a different opinion." I did not start thinking you were interacting in bad faith until the last couple of messages (where if I'm completely honest, I started getting the same "being dense on purpose" impression you've clearly been getting from me in turn), however expressing disbelief in the legitimacy of someone's experience is not really something you can just agree to disagree on. (Bad faith is different from malice.) I do appreciate that you weren't trying to be rude, but the fact remains that coming onto someone's post defending endogenic systems calling me "genuinely insane" and "probably why people say leftists are sensitive" for doing so is rude by I think anyone's measure. That's not a very neutral or respectful way to express an opinion, and it came off to me as starting an argument on purpose, which is why I responded the way I did.

My second response, to your initial "I don't want to discuss this right now" reblog, was not me getting upset about it again - it was me trying to explain why I'd gotten frustrated, while acknowledging that forgetting to respond to stuff happens and that explained why it had looked like you'd ignored me the first time.

The context that you lost the headspace for having the discussion after the initial comment explains why you suddenly reversed course after you started the conversation initially, and that's much more understandable now that I know that - if I'd known that to start with I wouldn't have been so annoyed. Without that context, from my perspective, the exchange basically looked like:

A: here's my opinion defending an often-bullied group's right to exist. B: hey this is a stupid opinion you have and I disagree. A: why do you think it's stupid and disagree? I'd like to talk about it. B: I don't want to talk about it actually.

Does it make sense why that felt frustrating and like shit-starting for no reason to me? (I don't want to keep overexplaining myself, just - this conversation looked very different without that piece of context you just provided, which is why I've been reacting the way I have.)

I'll be honest, I completely misunderstood what you were apologizing for. It sounded to me like you were apologizing for either not realizing I was the same person (???), or more likely apologizing for doing this twice on my posts/reblogs, without acknowledging the thing I was actually annoyed about, which was the perceived A-B interaction I just described above. This was a misread on my part, and I probably should have asked for clarification; that seemed clear enough to me that it didn't even occur to me that I might have misunderstood. (To the point where to be honest, even rereading it now knowing that's an incorrect interpretation, it still reads that way to my brain.) I apologize for that; that one's on me.

Given that understanding that the apology was actually meant to be for the thing I was annoyed about and not the mostly-unrelated things it seemed to be about, I appreciate the apology, and I think we can probably let this conversation rest there, unless some part of my explanation for why I've responded the way I have to all this needs more clarification?

Genuine question, does our system need to label ourselves as ‘endo-neutral’? (Mostly because we just really, really cannot bring ourselves to care. Also people are people and we can’t care (low empathy))

I ask asking because I (and the system) are not involved in syscourse, and I’m not sure what to put in the tags to prevent people from being upset.

Ignore this ask if it is rude in any way (genuinely)

(This was written by the co-host)

If you want my opinion, if you want to say “we don’t want to be actively involved in syscourse,” that exact sentence is the only way to say it.

Personally, I’m kind of of the opinion that “endo-neutral” isn’t a real thing unless you’re “neutral” in the sense that you haven’t done enough research on it yet to have formed an opinion (which, that’s valid but a different thing than true neutrality). You can’t really be neutral on whether people are allowed to exist or not. Either you’re okay with people fakeclaiming other people, or you’re not. “Endo-neutral” just tells me you are okay with it, you’re just not actively doing it yourself - which is a little like this comic:

Y’feel?

This is not me saying you have to involve yourself actively in syscourse. As a matter of fact, I recommend you don’t actively seek that out, in most cases - it’s not really good for you, generally speaking. Not wanting people to drop syscourse on your doorstep is perfectly reasonable. But unfortunately, if you interact with other systems much, it’s probably going to come up eventually, whether you like it or not. Eventually you are going to be in a space where someone starts talking about how endogenic systems aren’t real, and you’re going to have to decide how to respond to that and whether you’re willing to tolerate it.

Ultimately, I don’t think you have to be emotionally invested to decide whether you think something is right or wrong. I know there’s probably some extra energy investment required for that for you, but unfortunately I think that’s just something you’re going to have to deal with, as harsh as that might sound. I don’t really see a way around it. Which, it’s as good a time as any to ask yourself - where do your morals lie? What basic principles do you build your morality on? Are they internally consistent, and if not, what needs to change to make it so? And if you follow those principles to their natural conclusion, what does that tell you about the situation you’ve been given?

(Also, entirely pragmatically, if your goal is to avoid people getting mad at you, “endo-neutral” in my experience kind of just gets both sides upset anyway - endo supporters because of everything I just said, anti-endos because anyone who tolerates endos is the enemy according to them. You’re probably better off just stating you don’t want to argue about syscourse to achieve that goal.)

But that’s just my two cents’ worth. Hopefully it’s good food for thought at least.