#and its quite frankly not worth it for this car

[kurouzus]

family all pushed me to go look at a car and apply for the car even though i knew i would not be approved and i would get attached to it and whaddya know i was not approved and i got attached to it and for all the pushing they did for me to try and get this car none of them want to cosign. fuck you guys

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Eau De Parfum

A/n: once you love the warm and calm fragrance of Eilish no. 1, you studiously avoid its diametrical opposite - the bold and dark no. 2. According to your first impression, the languid woody trail of the perfume is not your path. But why does it feel so appealing? Billie helps you decide, revealing this fragrance in a new light.

«... cause I feel like, it's weird, but I feel like a fan myself. I just... It doesn't feel real!» - A genuine smile for the camera and a slight shrug, that's what Billie is all about. A knack for the camera and an incorruptible amount of sincerity, even when she's actually on the other side of the screen from her fans.

Eilish brought you along to shoot the launch of her fragrances Eilish and Eilish no. 2 for Ulta Beauty, and you just couldn't say no to her: your mutual desire to spend more time together and the opportunity to wander around a completely free (not counting the small film crew, a couple of consultants and security, of course) store is definitely what made you say yes. And enjoying Eilish's looseness in the crosshairs of the cameras is a huge pleasure, I must say.

After a few unsuccessful doubles, you realize that standing in the same position with your back against the wall for the last thirty minutes has been quite tiring. Darting between the many racks of cosmetics and perfumes, you try to entertain yourself a little to shake off the fatigue and late night slumber. Your gaze confusedly clings to the endless bottles of perfume, attracting you with their rich color or unusual shape. It is really difficult to concentrate on one thing, and not to lose your sense of smell after a dozen samples that you have managed to smell - something mind-bogglingly impossible. A short conversation with a nice female consultant pleasantly brightens up your wait, when you are already tired of circling the store for the third time. You come out from behind a row of boring shelves, wanting to go back, but you stop abruptly.

The confident gaze of the dark blue eyes, the seductive wet ink-black strands of hair mysteriously falling over her shoulders, the neat palms, on both sides closing black, like a symmetrically carved flacon. And, of course, devilishly inviting lips. Frankly speaking, you are staring hungry at a large advertising poster with your own girlfriend, as if you are seeing it for the first time. Well, I congratulate you.

Mixed with aesthetic admiration, thoughts of this tantalizing second perfume are in your head again: is it even worth trying it on yourself when you prefer the comfortable vanilla "hug" of the first one? Billie's languid, woody scent certainly suits her, but... what about you?

"Just a couple more minutes and you'll soon be making a hole in the glass," - the familiar velvet voice and the warmth of the palm that created a perfect 'lock' with yours, - "I'm wildly pleased, though."

Billie brings you out of your trance as suddenly as you entered it. Smiling, you close your fingers a little tighter for a few moments. A tacit confirmation that you are back in the real world.

"So... You want to give it a try after all?"

The tangle of tangled thoughts and doubts is back in motion in your head. You stare helplessly at the poster, then at Eilish herself. The better solution is to shrug your shoulders and sink your gaze into the socks of your slightly battered Jordans. Which is exactly what you're doing.

"Honestly, I don't even know, my love. On you it reveals itself so tantalizing. I don't think it would suit me."

"But you haven't even tried it," - her eyebrows come together gently the bridge of her nose in a confused squint, the word storm cloud over seas of blue.

"I know, but..."

The words remain unspoken: Billie, armed with a confident smirk, pulls you toward a rack of her own products and gallantly beckons the consultant over to you. By the end of the shoot, you're already sitting in her car with the "intimidating" dark box of a full-size bottle from the second collection on your lap.

"And yet I don't think it's mine."

"Relax, baby," Billie deftly slung the seat belt over her shoulder and turned the key in the ignition. The pleasant murmur of the engine is immediately heard in the Audi's interior, "Just let me prove how tantalizing you are. I'm sure you two will become friends."

The car slowly pulls out of the parking lot, remaining almost invisible in the night darkness that has descended on the city. And while Eilish drives the car relaxedly, biting the corner of her lips in thought, you nervously beat a rhythm with your fingers on the surface of the box that only you know. You're nervous, but you silently allow her. You allow her absolutely everything.

×××

The cool shower dampens your excitement until Billie enters the room: the singer looks like she's stepped out of that poster, except that instead of a black dress, she's wearing a long cotton T-shirt that reaches mid-thigh. Otherwise, the differences are nil, even in her hands she now has a weighty charcoal figure in the form of a woman's bust. You wince somewhat, bumping the tip of your nose against the collar of your terrycloth robe.

"I promise it won't hurt," - Billie's irony is what she finally disarms you with, sitting down at your side. Eilish's smile across from you and the rustle of the blanket, infused with a special warmth, is reassuring. You trust her, despite the childish stupidity of your situation.

"I'm ready," - you say confidently and clearly, eyes fixed on the eyes opposite, as if it were a lifeline. Billie chuckles, palm touching your cheek.

"Just let me put the finishing touches on it, my brave girl."

A second, and you're completely naked in front of her: in a few deliberately leisurely movements, Billie first loosens the knot in the waistband of your robe, then removes it altogether. The terry softness slips pleasantly off your shoulders, giving way to the sassy gaze of blue eyes. She freezes, admiring the etude that has emerged before her in the golden-warm semi-darkness of the bedroom, and you smirk. Confidence grows.

Picking up the cap of the flacon with her fingers, she apply three cool, but mentally scalding sprays: your collarbones, the area behind your ear, your wrist. Eilish takes her time, looking clearly into your eyes with each cloud of fragrance. You instantly smell the voluminous scent of ebony and palo santo, mysterious in its tranquility; you see the crazy blue lights dancing in Eilish's eyes.

"First sensations?" - The carved lid of the expensive vial taps lightly, like marble, returning to its rightful place, the vial itself flinged in the center of the bed - Eilish has no intention of being ceremonious, focusing all of her attention now on you alone.

"It's much more intimate than the no. 1. So... warm, lingering. It's like I'm in some kind of gothic cathedral with you."

"Very good, we can keep going."

And then it all blends into one continuous pleasure: hot kisses, sheets, bites, moans. Eilish is enjoying yourself, and you're absolutely lost, torn in half by the smells and sensations. Her hands seem to be everywhere; the barely husky whisper of over-the-top excitement penetrates your subcortex. When her tongue traces a path between your collarbones and downward, you can smell the poppy odor. Placing a few bright hickeys on your neck, a perfumed black pepper shoots into your nose, driving you both crazy. Eilish hungrily grabs your thighs, spreading them a little more - the scent of papyrus is more pronounced in the air. She kneels down, tongue placing the place where it's hottest right now - you smell vanilla, making you throw your head back and breathe intermittently. Only lastly, apple blossom and bergamot cover you with their tranquility as you cum, rhythmically thrusting yourself onto her fingers.

The diametric opposite in flavor perception is replaced by understanding. Eilish no. 2 is a long-awaited night shared by two, something that envelops you with desire and passion, something that gives you the confidence. It's a flavor closer than any other.

"Perfume always opens up on hot skin in a different way. And it suits you no less than it suits me," - she playfully whispers into your jaw line before you both fall asleep in each other's arms.

[spdrvyn]

that dreaded time — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: you're out on a nice date with miguel before the thing that you've been dreading all week has finally happened.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: fluff. hurt/comfort. minor angst. period stuff. so much kissing oh my g. oh my god!!! f!reader but this can probably be for anyone with the bits yk

NOTES: went to see the barbie movie and i wanted to write this one for the girlies out there! i don't really see people talk about how miguel would be like if you were on your period (unless... its... sexual...) so i valiantly decided to take that role. enjoy!

You were well aware of the amount of stress that Miguel was put under practically everyday as he almost tried working himself to death on his job. It was clear how he'd at times come home at the wee hours of night when you're already comfy and cozy in bed.

With that, you wanted to show exactly how much you appreciated him. Besides you were sure if he worked any more late nights then his eyes would fall out from how deep the bags under them are.

You had booked a nice fancy restaurant, dressed up in the best looking dress available in your wardrobe, spent hours in front of the dresser trying to get your makeup look just right, and miraculously able to convince Miguel to take one night off. Just one.

You wanted this to be perfect, and it was.

The almost concerning amount of studying you did for this restaurant was definitely worth it, Miguel had his jaw on the floor when he caught sight of your outfit and appearance as a whole, most importantly you were having conversations you think you were going to remember for a long time.

But, it had to end eventually.

That feeling in your gut was all too recognizable, you've been praying all week that it wouldn't happen but when you entered the restaurant thirty minutes ago and your insides were squeezing themselves, you had hoped that it was just the excitement.

Your suspicions are confirmed the moment that you shy away to the comfort room, your groans of pain and frustration echoed off of the walls. The worst part of it as well was that you didn't have any pads, tampons, or anything to help you out right now.

To make it even worse somehow, there was a very noticeable stain on your dress. You couldn't think about what to do, aside from asking Miguel to get the bill, and bring your 'perfect' date to an early finish.

Once you pulled out your phone, thumbs shakily and hurriedly typing down your explanation in a sea of typos from the tears that just threatened to break out from your waterline. Before you could even think, Miguel was already right outside the restroom with his jacket in hand for you.

Embarrassed wasn't even what could begin to describe how you felt as you walked out that fancy restaurant, with Miguel's jacket tied tightly around your waist - you were sure that anybody who caught sight of you knew exactly what was going on.

You were dead silent the entire car ride home, it worried Miguel. A lot. Not even twenty minutes ago, you were so energetic and peppy, more than happy to finally get to sit down and actually talk to him after he had been so swamped at work recently. Now, you couldn't even spare him a single glance. Instead, opting to stare blankly at the turtle-paced cars in front of you.

Let it not be said that he was irked by it, he understood where you were coming from one hundred percent and more. Once the car got stuck in traffic again, Miguel put his hand on yours in a reassuring gesture. "Are you okay?"

Quite frankly, Miguel was stumped on what to say. When it came to talking about feelings, his mind blanked so the most he could offer you was a listening ear. When you had finally turned your head to him, giving his hand a slight squeeze, "I just wanna go home." It didn't quell his worries any further.

Nevertheless, he wouldn't press further into it. For now, at least. He gives you a small smil, getting the car in motion again when the light turns green.

Once you both got home, Miguel immediately got to work.

He lit up a few candles in the washroom as you tried to find some nice sleepwear, while that was going on he decided to prepare you some food. He knew you had cravings but he wasn't even sure if you had the appetite after what happened, so something simple like popcorn or a sandwich would probably do. Probably both.

He had distracted you with a nice and refreshing bath, when you insisted that he joined in, he told you that he wanted to do a few things around the house and kissed you on the forehead when he saw the small pout that had formed on your face because of it.

The bedroom was all fixed up, like the bathroom - multiple candles lit up, lights turned off, he would've sprinkled some rose petals on the bed for that romantic effect but he had to work with what he had.

He turned on the TV in the bedroom, trying to look for a movie that he thought you would enjoy in this moment, or a show that you can rewatch and binge in one sitting, at least until you fell asleep in his arms. He was leaning towards a rewatch though.

Once you finally finished up with your bath, Miguel was behind you with a hand covering your eyes. You made a disgruntled, but mostly confused noise.

"Miguel, what—"

"Shh," He whispered in your ear. "Trust me."

You protested a bit. A lot. However, after some short reassurances and Miguel's pure insistance, you begrudgingly let him lead you blindly into the bedroom.

He removes his hand, letting it fall onto your shoulder instead as he pulled you close to him. Leaning forward just a little, watching and reveling as your jaw practically drops to the floor, eyes sparkling like the city lights right outside the window. A view like that couldn't compare to the one of pure joy on your face right now.

"Oh my god." was all you were able to get out as you slowly walked over to the bed, eyes darting back and forth towards the cleanliness of it all, the snacks placed upon the bedside drawers, the TV that already has your favorite show set back to the very first episode. Each small detail caused your heart to throb with love for Miguel, bit by bit, and you were not complaining in the slightest.

You let yourself sink into the soft and familiar mattress of your bed, a sigh slipping past your lips as you do so, and it causes Miguel to chuckle. He sits down beside you, to take in every feature of you. Your smile, your eyes, your brows, everything.

When you open your eyes again, there are already some tears streaming down and Miguel's first instinct is to cup your cheeks out of concern, the warmth from his hands spreading across your face. "Hey," It comes off as a little sharper than he intended, but you know he only means well. Only means to snap you out of whatever sad trance that you're in.

"If this is about what happened in the restaurant, then you don't need to worry about it anymore. I don't think any less of you." His thumbs swipe under your eyes, trying to catch the tears that just seem to keep falling. You giggle dryly at his comment.

"You know me too well," You bring up the sleeve of your sweatshirt to wipe away the remainder of your tears, before letting your head collapse against one of Miguel's broad shoulder's, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. "But thank you."

You press a small kiss right under his ear and he gasps, wrapping his arms fully around you. He tugs at your hair lightly, only so that he can pull you off of his neck, and admire your face for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. Humming as he closes the distance between you two, lips molding against each other's.

It practically swallows you whole, almost literally in that sense when you feel Miguel's hands exploring the expanse of your back, teasing the hem of your sweatshirt before his fingers slip under it and you shudder, breathing heavily into his mouth.

You separate before he even gets the chance to go any further, placing your index finger over his lips, and he looks at you a little confused to the point where you find it cute. But, you always find him cute so what's the fucking point in clarifying that anymore?

"How about we pick up this date where it left off first?"

You can feel his mouth curl into a smile. A certain softness invading those rugged features you'd gotten used to over the course of your relationship, he brings a hand up to your wrist and places tiny pecks onto your knuckles.

"If that's what you want, nena."

requests closed, masterlist here

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Maso ever since I’ve read your stories and as a spooky person myself I’ve always thought what would sex be like with vampire Matt! 🤔😈

Okay, okay, okay…*whispers* breathe, Maso, bReAtHe!

See, spooky sibling nonny, vampire!Matt is a concept that lives in my head rent-free. I think of it more than I should and constantly catch myself daydreaming about random scenarios with this handsome vamp at least once a week. So let’s delve deeper into this delicious experience, shall we?

For a man who’s nearly 3.000 years old, Matt is quite ahead of his time when it comes to the sheets department. A vampire/human orgy is merely a Friday tea party to him, and sex toys quickly become quite boring once you’re three millennia's worth of age. At this point, he has seen - and engaged in - a little bit of everything: sex with women, men, both at the same time, virgins, orgies, he drank from every fountain and delighted himself in every.single.water he could find. And although Matt is a very skilled lover, he grows bored very easily. A hot body, a beautiful face, and mind-blowing sex will make his eyes roll in boredom after the second encounter. So you see, spooky nonny, it is not easy to keep this vampire around! Unless of course, you have what Matt calls the “BBF”, or the “boner-bringing factor”, which is your mind.

From his throne, Matt stared intently at you “Trapping a lover with your bedroom skills is easy, and quite frankly, predictable. After I’ve fucked you in every single position I can imagine - and mind you, I know endless of them - what else will you bring to the table that will make me lust over you? Because I’ve seen everything, haven’t I?! After I’ve bent you in 678 different ways and used you for two nights in a row, why would I still desire you? See, the itch is gone. The novelty factor is also gone, and a car can only hold its new scent for so long” Matt grabbed a blonde woman from the crowd and pulled her down to sit on his lap. He pushes her golden hair to the side and lays a soft kiss on her pulse point, without taking his gaze away from you. “Tell me, little dove, how high are you willing to fly to please me?”

*Maso’s whispers in the background of the club* Weirdo 🙄

Okay, so back to the “BBF” thing, Matt is a man who gets turned on by looks first and then will continue to be turned on by your mind. In his nature, he’s a predator, but no predator enjoys the hunt when the prey is casually offering themselves to the predator. It’s for one, not fun, and secondly boring. And we all know Matt’s second most hated word is “boredom”.

He wants to feel the thrill of the hunt, it makes him feel almost alive again. The chase, the back and forth, bringing into submission a significantly challenging prey makes their blood taste as sweet as condensed milk on Matt’s tongue. And once you successfully turned him into a sweet tooth, he becomes this irrational sex creature, that’s driven by his constant need to get his fix.

And that’s how we arrive here, at the core of you ask, spooky nonny. Matt’s performance in the sheets department. Now, needless to say, you successfully managed to not only capture the California vampire king’s attention BUT also manage to keep his interest high - very high may I add -, and this is both your paradise and hell inside one ancient vampire. Because Matt’s love language is physical affection-

“Wait a minute” Matt pushes the blonde girl away from his lap and onto the floor, “Who said anything about love? The question was about sex, not love. Why are you bringing subjects of the heart into this?! I don’t need to love to fuck, nor do I need to fuck to love. So let’s keep the focus on the fucking, ok?”

“Whatever you say, your Highness” *flips the bird behind his back*.

Right, so sex, we all know that Matt-

“Hold that thought” Matt jumped down from his throne to the floor, “You’re starting to bore me, let me do the talking”. He began to pace around the dance floor like a philosopher in Ancient Greece, head tilted back and looking up at the ceiling as his index finger tapped against his chin.

“Sex” Matt began “Intercourse, copulation, mating, coitus…well, fucking. It’s the most beautiful, powerful, fun, relieving activity The Almighty has ever come up with. If you stop to think about it, sex is the only thing the little fucker from upstairs hasn’t taken away from us vampires” Matt chuckled before he continued “When I was human, I loved to spend a lovely summer day at the beach, I loved drinking coffee, I loved eating meat…but of course all of that was taken from me the day God didn’t hear my prayers and I was turned into a vampire. So the only concrete thing I could still enjoy as a vampire from my human life was fucking, can anyone blame me when the first thing I did as a vampire was set up an orgy inside a convent and had the sassy milf who entitled herself as the ‘mother superior’ sucking my cock the whole night through?!” Matt stopped pacing for a moment and briefly mumbled “She was pretty hot, too bad she’s dead now. Ugh, what a shame” He shrugged and started pacing back and forth across the dance floor once more.

“Anyway, sex with me is otherworldly! Transcendental, intimate in ways you’ve never experienced before, intense, will probably make you cry and unable to walk straight for two weeks, deep enough to reach your soul, addicting as fuck, deliciously sinful. You can ask anyone in this room, they’ll all tell you the same”, Matt chuckled.

“Although I must say, not everyone can handle a night with me. They usually can’t last half of the night. Just because it is too much, too personal, too spiritual if you will. An unexplainable out-of-body experience. Like fucking a demon in your dreams” Matt stepped closer to your chair.

He places both hands on the armrest and as he leans forward toward your lips he whispers “You seem interested enough, little dove. Do you want me to fuck you? Wanna know what it feels like to have a vampire cock inside of you? Yeah?” Matt chuckled “Then come, dovey. My room’s upstairs”.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @adamjf , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore , @tahiri-veyla

[sorrow-already-spoiled]

A Secret is Worth Keeping if...

CHAIMOIW

“We need to talk.” Zerea doesn’t even blink when her office door slams against the wall hard enough to chip the paint. She was as perfectly put together as always in her classic pinstripe and gold rings, fountain pen in hand as she works her way through the neat stack of paperwork on her desk. 

“Welcome back Chai. I was starting to think you were actually going to keep your word. I suppose I gave you too much credit.” Chai slams her hands down on the desk with enough force to disrupt part of the stack. 

“Do you realize you nearly had your wife killed tonight?” That stopped Zerea’s pen dead in its tracks. An excess of ink spilled from the pen leaving an ugly black splotch on the page. “She was in the car your goons shot up.” 

“The Kingsley’s sent my beloved to collect a shipment like a common criminal?” Zerea’s voice had gone ice cold. “And you allowed it?”

“Don’t even think about trying to pin the blame on them. The Kingsley’s are all heart. They would never ask Ani to do something like this. She insisted. If you’re looking for someone to blame, it was you who left your shipment documents laying around for her to see.” Chai’s nails dig into the oak desk, a horrible sinking feeling growing in her gut. “You planned this? You let her see the documents on purpose, didn’t change the shipments so she would follow the trail.”

“And why would I do that?” Zerea lays the pen down in its black leather case, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on them. 

“Because you’re a sadistic bitch, and you want her to be scared? Or maybe you were trying to kidnap her to force her back here. Or you wanted an excuse to go after the Kingsley’s properly.”  Zerea laughs without any joy. 

“A few flaws in your theories, my dear second.” Chai’s lip curls at the reminder of her position in Zerea’s business. “First, I have never once taken any pleasure from Ani’s fear. I like to keep my work and home life very separate. Second, kidnapping her is useless, as she will simply try to run again and grow resentful when she fails. When Ani returns to me, it will be of her own accord. Third, the Kingsley’s are currently… off limits.” 

“Off limits?”

“Off limits.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m afraid that’s none of your business. In terms of my motivations regarding the evening's events… Frankly, I believe I underestimated Ani’s ability to put pieces together. I was quite happy to see her as a sweet little housewife, you see. A darling little thing to care for and keep my bed warm. It is possible her pretty face distracted me from her true intelligence.” Chai’s jaw tightens in fury. Ani was much more than Zerea would ever know. “As for the gentlemen that shot at you tonight, they will be dealt with accordingly.” They wouldn’t last the night then. 

Chai felt no sympathy for them. Honestly, if Zerea wasn’t going to take care of it, Chai had every intention of hunting them down herself. They had shot at Chai’s people. That was a death sentence in her eyes. 

“I’m going to leave. You’re going to let me.” Zerea smiled. 

“Of course I am. I'm sure you’ll be in touch, unless you’re going to make another impassioned speech about leaving my side for good, your newfound morality, and your unwillingness to cooperate with evil? The first one was quite cute, I’d be happy to hear it again.” It wasn’t worth arguing with her, and Chai knew it, but she hated letting Zerea have the final word. 

“May all your lightbulbs be mysteriously unscrewed in the night.” Chai turned on her heel and left the door open on her way out. She was definitely not coming back here again. In her anger, she didn’t notice the other individual in the hallway until she bumped into them. “Sorry.”

“No trouble at all, it was my fault.” Chai knew that voice. Rashai. The man who kept coming to visit Staziya. He tips his hat at her, “Have a nice evening.” What the hell was he doing in the administration offices of StarDrop? Rashai continues down the hall to Zerea’s office, closing the door with a quiet click. 

It was already late when Chai had left the King’s Club, and later still when she left StarDrop. She makes her way to the river, shelling out a few coins in exchange for some greasy food from a late night street vendor. She sits on the bridge, legs dangling over the edge, a 50 foot freefall to the water below her. She wasn’t sure how it had gone so wrong so quickly. Maybe she should have stayed in that dead-end office job. She had been good at it, even as her soul died a bit more with every stolen lunch. Instead she had been seduced by her own anger, diving headfirst into a world of bullets and stolen alcohol. A stray breeze sweeps up her used napkin, the small square of cheap paper drifting out over the river before falling to float on the surface. 

Chai sighs deeply. 

Ani’s evil wife was her boss, which she couldn’t tell Ani. The gentleman Staziya was so enamored with was somehow involved in the criminal underworld, which she couldn’t tell Staiya or Ani. Folceli and Sel somehow had decided they were gonna follow her around, and she wanted to be a good role model for them, so she couldn’t let her mask slip for a second because they were always watching. She couldn’t tell Lawrynce anything, because he would probably react the same way she would if someone put her friends in danger. Unfortunately she was the danger. She wouldn’t even blame him. 

She should probably walk away, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to go back to a job where she was no one, just a cog in a bureaucratic system so large she couldn’t even comprehend the scope of it. She didn’t want to go back to being Zerea’s right hand, a killer for hire, a slave to her own rage. She wanted to stay with her friends. She wanted to take care of the people she loved.

She would keep her secrets a little longer to keep them happy and safe, even if it killed her.

[weaselbug]

Godzilla and "non-meaningful" media

now this is coming from a person who use to be like "no, everything that you ever experience should have value and make you think" which was odd cause i like dragon ball. but anyway, i think the idea that everything that you ever experience should have to be meaningful, and full of artistry, is kind of dumb. sometimes things can just be a little painting of a mountain.

that being said, i have been watching the heisei era Godzilla movies, and I'm almost done, only space Godzilla and Destroyah left, and honestly, i really love them. they are really fun movies, and a lot of hard work came from the effects, costumes, and sets.

while i find that some godzilla movies have a hard time splitting between the godzilla action and the human drama, i feel like these get the right ratio, where all the problems are the people dealing with godzilla or something like that. but i think thats what makes these movies great, im watching a godzilla movie, everything about them should be about godzilla. i want the humans to be dealing with godzilla if godzilla isnt on screen.

but let me get to the point of this train of thought in this video made by mothers basement (here is the video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwRGw9QRMj4)

and honestly, i quite disagree with this video so much, as someone who has delt with a lot of worthlessness, depression, and suicidal ideation. the only thing i agree with in this video is that you shouldn't replace your life with media. but that being said, the idea that you should optimise your life to be the most jam packed with only good experiences is quite frankly not what you should do, yes you should TRY to do that, but its like a dog chasing a car, what the hell are you going to do if you do end up catching that car?

i hate the idea that people cant watch and enjoy things that have no meaning, (these heisei godzilla movies have meaning) because it causes people to unfun sticks in the mud. like yes, the movie would be better if it had great characters and great theming. but it doesn't have to have those things to be worth while.

i think a piece of art/media/culture just needs to be enjoyable for someone to find meaning in it, even if the artist was like "oh yeah, that doesnt mean anything" it means something, sorry! if you found your self enjoying something, thats good. and dont let anyone take that away from you.

also, side note, the people who have only experienced good things in their lives, dont tend to be the best people. i find. like, yes try your best to do good things and experience things that make you feel good, but like try the hard thing. get dirty in the mud.

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Bimonthly Media Roundup

Late and short again, 2024 is kicking my ass already again

- Velocipastor (Movie) - Way to pass the time while helping a friend move, it looked stupid in a fun way and kind of succeeded? There were some genuinely really funny moments, such as when they just put the text "Car exploding visual and SFX" ontop of a peaceful street and had the actor react like they were actually seeing something, when that lady exploded out of nowhere, and the Frankie Mermaid character, but there were also plenty of moments that just kind of dragged - namely anytime they were trying to be serious without any tongue in cheek gags. So I wouldn't rank it on the top level of bad on purpose movies but it was a fun single watch.

- The Boy and the Heron (Movie) - Hmm While I definitely don't think its a bad movie as the visuals alone are worth the watch, I don't think this was one of Miyazaki's strongest either. The plot was hard to follow and even after browsing through analysis and understanding more the intent behind the themes of pushing an unwanted legacy onto someone/dealing with grief, I really don't think it was done in a very cohesive or powerful way even if I respect the artistry of it. Overall I feel like most of the elements were done better in prior films (Cool tough lady done better in Princes Mononoke, Cute little creatures done better in Totoro, Thrust into a strange magical world done better in Spirited Away, troubled protagonist done better in Kiki, ect) Which I would rather just rewatch, which I know isn't exactly fair to this movie but it's the truth. I don't regret having seen it and would maybe rewatch it a while later, I'm open to reavaluating it on a second watch, but for now my honest opinion of it is that its just okay.

- Pokemon Concierge (TV) - cute little stop motion mini series, the plot isn't anything special but the visuals are really cute and interesting and the setting of a Pokemon resort is the definition of wish fulfillment. Good on them for not exclusively using the most popular pokemon either, though of course Pikachu couldn't not be there.

- Dr Stone (Anime) - Exciting to have Tsukasa back and have a larger goal as well as some clues to the mystery of how everyone was turned to stone. I don't really talk about this series as much due to the 1 episode per week rate and smaller fandom but I do quite like it, it's very cozy and I do really love my aroace cocky but sweetheart protagonist Senku. Looking forward to see how stone age America will be depicted.

- Lower Decks (TV) - Yup.

- Strange New Worlds (TV) - Yes.

- Mage and Demon Queen (Webcomic) - Looking over all the webcomics I read in 2024 I noticed a distinct shortage of yuri so I aim to rectify that this year. This one is quite promising so far, the beginning being funny enough with the "Hot demon vileness being confused and put off by the human hero being super into her even when her life is being threatened" setup, and then pushing into more heartwarming territory by addressing this and actually diving into the reasoning/backstory/emotional intelligence of the characters beyond the setup. I also just adore any "friendly demon family" setup so I quite like the Demon Queens entourage and how cool they are with the human with a crush on their boss. Super cute, liking it a lot.

- One Piece (Anime) - The pace my sister and I have been watching this show is frankly insane. I was going to use this blurb to talk about the pros and cons of Thriller bark, which had a neat aesthetic but overall was one of the weakest arcs so far thanks to the gross comedy and lackluster villains, but in the extra time its been since I paused this we've also blown through all of Sabaody, Amazon Lily, Impel Down, and Marieneford - All of which were way more interesting and frankly some of the best One Piece content so far. Maybe I'll do a bigger elaboration one day but as a short roundup, Sabaody was fun with a cool environment and introduced a lot of interesting new faces, Amazon Lily was surprisingly pretty funny, Impel Down was a blast and I'm starting to see why Buggy is so popular, Marieneford was full of tension and while I do think it went on just a little too long the overall emotion and impact it will have on the world and series is incredible. It's so hard not to get sucked in to making this myy whole personality.

- Genshin Impact (Video Game) - Thanks to saving up to try to guarantee the 5 stars I wanted I've recently gone from having no five stars to having Navia, Raiden, and Qui Qui, as well as now having a C6 Cheveruse, multi constellation Rosaria, Candance, Bennette, and Sucrose, and several decent weapons, which is very exciting though bad for my experience papers and primogem stash. I accidently rose my adventure rank so I guess I'll be doing some character stories before finishing Sumeru, though I've quite liked the environment and time loop story so far.

Listening To: Turn the Lights Off and The Bidding by Tally Hall, How Did You Love by Shinedown, The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives, L'oiseau et L'enfant by The Schlagerflowers, Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, You Happened from The Prom Musical, All the Boys by Panic! at the Disco, Can't Catch Me Now cover by Annapantsu, Ways to Go by Grouplove, As it Was cover by Reinaeiry

[titstraction]

time after time with dreamers a yearish in the future. december 2022 perhaps.

okay so this is Fic-Specific Asks for Authors and this is my best mutual julia indulging all my fancies. for better context you gotta read dreamers my magnum opus on my ao3

Time After Time: Send me a timestamp sometime in the future after the end of [that fic], or sometime in the past before the story started, and I’ll tell you what happened then

okay so a yeahish in the future finds remus and sirius facing on new challenges as remus’ disability progresses. he loses some motor functions quick, he gets tired much more easily and would rather be at home sleeping than say at the park etc

remus has grown more comfortable with having sirius look after him and sirius does it well and feels good about it but it is still a sudden change and a sad situation and he sometimes feels scared and lonely, misses the energy remus had in the beginning

he is steadier on his feet though: he had a collection of poems published, made some nice money for them, got a car, and he loves himself fairly more a yearish into the future. a little bit more everyday

and they have community that supports them through it: marlene will sometimes drop warm dinner off, and dorcas will do remus’ university work for him on the harder weeks. and theres a new character thrown into the mix: morgana, regulus’ late wife, tracks sirius down and they become part of each others life. they become friends, matching sharp wits and soul dilemnas and its an assurance that regulus too wouldve liked him as a person

soooo sirius and remus become uncles to little sirius (now that hai is back with his mother they need another little kid to be in uncleship with) aaaand uncles do fun stuff!! uncles go to the movies!! and you know what movie is showing december 2022??? thats right. AVATAR 2. FULL CIRCLE MOMENT BABY

sirius drives to pick up morgana and little sirius from their house. and hes sweating buckets big nervous because remus is the only person he has driven around since. he was so nervous he had spent the morning driving from their house to the movies and back, to get familiar with the route. it all goes smoothly when morgana and little sirius are on the backseat and remus is riding shotgun, hand squeezing his forearm reassuringly

so they get to the movies and get four tickets to see avatar 2 tehehee. and sirius sits between remus and little sirius, both his hands being held tightly and he feels sooooooo loved and he loves them sooooo much

and its the part of the movie with the big beautiful whale, and remus is fast asleep because the movie is frankly too big and quite a bore, and little sirius is looking at the colors and the textures with eyes as wide as galaxies, clutching at sirius hand, and he feels like- fucking flooded with the love and his sheer dumb luck and how beautiful life turned out to be and morgana catches his eye and smiles knowingly

then (…2 hours later) its lights UP and he wakes remus UP and remoussy dude is upset he missed most of it. hes like. a little pouting frowning frustrated at himself but his man’s happiness is just so contagious he believes him when he tells him its fine, you didnt miss a thing, really, there was no plot, so he brushes it off for the moment and kisses him lightly and sirius looks even more like a kid on christmas morning. joy impersonated etc

whats going to the movies with no getting pizza after? they get a table at pizza hut where little sirius fills remus on every detail he missed and the nap is almost worth its money for the gentle way he listens and smiles and says little kindnesses. like a woww with his honey eyes blown wide. sirius is buzzzzzzzing he is hot and bothered remus is the best thing that has ever been his etc

and then they get little sirius some crayons while theyre waiting for the food and little sirius draws the four of them at the movies. and sirius is there, in the family portrait. ayyyyyyyyyyyy 😛

[mustafaakindele]

Inside Pavyllon London: My 2024 Restaurant of the year in under 2 Minutes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5HhFEgXrOY Having dined at over 50 restaurants this year, this choice wasn't made lightly, but my recent birthday celebration here - my second visit this year, mind you - absolutely confirmed it. Nestled in the Four Seasons London at Park Lane, this Modern French cuisine London establishment has consistently blown me away. What makes Yannick Alléno's London venture particularly special? Well, let me tell you - the service is absolutely extraordinary. The team operates with the precision of a Formula 1 pit crew, yet maintains this wonderful warmth that makes you feel properly looked after. The Contemporary French cuisine here is, quite frankly, remarkable. In the competitive world of fine dining Mayfair, Pavyllon London stands head and shoulders above the rest. The way they execute each dish, the attention to detail, the flavour combinations - it's proper Michelin-star dining London at its finest. Now, I should be straight with you - this luxury dining London experience doesn't come cheap. But as someone who's experienced their fair share of Best French restaurant London establishments, I can honestly say it's worth saving up for. The entire experience, from the Park Lane restaurant setting to the impeccable timing of each course, is absolutely spot on. While restaurant reviews are inherently subjective, and what works for me might not work for everyone, I can't help but feel this London culinary awards recognition is thoroughly deserved. The consistency across both my visits this year has been remarkable - no mean feat in today's challenging hospitality landscape. Rather chuffed to say that amongst all the fine dining I've experienced this year, Pavyllon London has earned my vote for Restaurant of the Year 2024. It's pricey, yes, but for special occasions or when you're after something properly exceptional, it's absolutely worth it. These are just my thoughts, mind you, but when you're celebrating something special and want the best of the best, this is where I'd point you. Proper brilliant, through and through." 🔔 Subscribe to join me on my journey of travel, running, and building a business — and get insider tips on marketing and lifestyle! https://www.youtube.com/@mustafaakindele/?sub_confirmation=1 🔗 Linktree: https://ift.tt/RTEZaye 🔗 Stay Connected With Me. 👉 Tiktok: https://ift.tt/EJGROLD 👉 Instagram: https://ift.tt/U6R3XdB 👉 Website: https://ift.tt/lxSgsBA 👉 Linkedin: https://ift.tt/Tlt0smc 👉 Twitter(X): https://twitter.com/mustafaakindele 📩 For Business Inquiries: mustafa@musakionline.co.uk ============================= ✅ My Playlists: 👉 Watch connoisseurs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Zte4GfOXiU&list=PLxaw4gjwNN1HBf3aJKq-wJqHtdxFB0H8T&pp=iAQB 👉 CARS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sq5L3PanyzE&list=PLxaw4gjwNN1E7aOMxnVGaVUnGAsVonCNh&pp=iAQB 🎬 WATCH OUR OTHER VIDEOS: 👉 Rhinoceros vs Warthog https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=om-a1Yn4eOc 👉 Curb your Enthusiasm - Best of Susan Green https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUnnHgcnQCI 👉 Architecture firm Bergmeisterwolf built an incredible extension to a house in Italy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjYqh8CyRZU 👉 Snowfall Trailer (2017) New FX Series - Season 1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYDKlVIm0VA ============================= ADD HASHTAGS #YannickAlléno #London #Four Seasons London restaurant #pavyllonlondon #pavyllon #ModernFrenchcuisine * Four Seasons London restaurant * Modern French cuisine London * Luxury dining London * Fine dining Mayfair * Restaurant of the Year 2024 * Best French restaurant London * Michelin-star dining London * Park Lane restaurant * Contemporary French cuisine * London culinary awards via mustafa akindele https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxkZSqLrhKeDWZ9FYjv7Uew November 23, 2024 at 11:37PM

[proposalanonaita]

Well, that's... definitive.

In all honesty I'd forgotten about this by now, but I'm sure you'll all be very happy to know my fiance actually checks tumblr, and is being completely insufferable about the fact that 700-odd strangers think that I'm an asshole. I WILL concede, the risk to reward ratio involved in sending the rich ex an invite is probably more trouble than its worth. Probably.

On everything else, however, all of you are so comically wrong I'm about to spend the rest of this post responding to questions I'm seeing crop up in the comments repeatedly. To that end:

Why do you hate the groomsmen/Why are you uninviting the groomsmen/&c. - When I said that uninviting everyone I hate would take out half the groomsmen, that was a technique called "exaggeration" I and many other people use when arguing. I certainly don't LIKE several of his friends, but he's well aware of that fact already & we're perfectly capable of interacting politely when needed. This isn't a legitimate grievance, they're just loud and don't really 'get' me. The rest of his side of the aisle is lovely.

Do you even like him/Why do you talk about your fiance like that, I would never insult my partner in public - I wanted to mention this one specifically because I was completely baffled about it for so long. To me, the COMPLETE opposite is true; I would sooner film a sex tape, show it on the jumbo screen of a sport arena, and provide director's commentary throughout than admit to loving my partner in public for anyone to hear. It would be much less revealing.

Anything heartfelt I have to say about him I am going to say TO him, behind a closed door, with no one else around. The ONLY exceptions are the time I had an appendectomy (which involved MANY drugs and SHOULDN'T count), our vows, and if he dies in public.

You are toxic/Both of you are toxic/You shouldn't be getting married at all/&c. - Oh damn, you're right. Let me just call this whole committed relationship off real quick, obviously you know everything about me and my partner from reading a few words online!

I don't respect you and I'm going to find a way to marry him even harder specifically to piss you off.

Why are you making a seating chart before you have your RSVPs back - You're the only one asking the right questions on here, congratulations. The venue has several rooms we can pick from, arranged VERY differently, and I needed to get an idea of what each set up would look like at maximum capacity to choose between them. I'll admit making a full chart was going a LITTLE overboard, but spending an afternoon methodically calculating who should sit with whom is surprisingly effective for excising the jitters. Also, it was an excellent bonding moment with my mother, who is a fellow hater at heart and had insane amounts of intel on the extended family's beef. I think she was more choked up watching me put labels on my magnet board over FaceTime than she will be seeing me in my suit, frankly.

Stop doing mind games on your partner/Don't manipulate your fiance/WTF is wrong with you quit it - No. It's VERY effective foreplay. Also, he is genuinely quite bad at event planning. I'm not about to let him blunder into a subpar special day when I could just do it CORRECTLY and give him the perfect wedding instead. Duh.

To that point, no one asked specifically but I think it would help assuage some worries to reiterate that AS STATED IN THE POST I am NOT pulling any strings when it comes to his actual stated wants, this is ONLY about the minutiae of planning for a very large event.

He wants all his younger siblings to play a role? Absolutely, I will find jobs for all SEVEN of them to do, including the kindergartner who curses at me. His best friend moved abroad and can't afford travel fare? She can now, because I'm chipping in to get her here as a surprise. He really wants Thinking Out Loud by Ed fucking Sheeran on the playlist since it was on the car radio when he realized he loved me? I wish to GOD I were a crueller man because that tacky garbage will be our first dance song so my basic bitch of a betrothed can get all weepy about it.

He thinks orange and pink "works fine" for a color scheme?????? Objectively deranged, someone needs to save him from himself.

To conclude, I have ACCEPTED that I shouldn't invite the ex, I will be taking NO further criticism at this time, and now that that's all settled I'm going to leave this be and go talk over my fiance's TV shows. He hates it so much <3

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[skyvinn]

Review: Le Bajo Milkbar

Your mum has a friend who lives in Melbourne. You meet him now and then, and he’s a foodie. Therefore, it is only natural that the meet-up arranged is for Brunch! This family friend picks you up and shows you your ‘hood’, and brings you to Le Bajo Milkbar, another COV-19 creation. 

If you have ever been to Bali and visited Potato Head Beach Club, then know that this is the creation by one of the owners of said club. Stuck in Australia during COV-19, he decided to re-purpose part of his enormous garage (that keeps his fancy cars and what nots) into a little café focussing on Japanese sandwiches aka ‘Sandos’ (San – do). Think thick milky shokupan bread slices (freshly baked) housing a variety of ingredients and hence a sandwich is formed.

The menu has sufficient to choose from as long as you know it’s essentially a Japanese Fusion Brunch café. So don’t expect huge hearty meals but trust me the sandwiches are sizeable. For those who love shortcakes that is not a cake, they do fruit sandos here as well. Drinks wise, you have in-house roasted coffees to ramunes.

Be prepared to queue especially if you head on a weekend, despite operating out of a garage, this place is a veritable name. We were lucky to wait no more than 20 minutes, but it can go over 20min as it’s a tiny place with few seats but plenty who are after a nice catch-up over brunch.

You’ve seen the menu before arriving, so you know your exact choice – a Spicy Tako Karaage Sando. So, what’s the verdict?

Service: Friendly staff but don’t expect tip-top service. You order via QR code or at the counter and your only interaction is really when they serve you food. We ordered a coffee (takeaway) while queuing but managed to get a table before the order came. Frankly, we expect it to hence be served in a proper cup but they still served it in a disposable one. The waitress said she had already made it, so you know… If it was positioned as to be sustainable and not waste the cup, I would respect them. Putting that aside, friendly staff who will talk you through the menu if you wished but otherwise leave you alone.

Ambience: Think interior designer using expensive garage items to make a kitsch but comfortable setting. Wood, plants and an eclectic mix of collectibles creates a hip brunch café environment. It also clearly draws the ‘cool’ crowd. Also did I mention its cute logo (which they print on tote bags for sale). 

Taste: The sando was stuffed with fresh ingredients. The tako (octopus) was well fried, coming nice and crispy but not rubbery. The spicy mayo was not at all spicy but flavourful all the same. It took me quite some time to polish of the fat sando. The shokupan slices were just about right – not too thick to detract from the ingredients but sufficient for you to get the milky taste of bread. We ordered a side tofu salad which was a little average save for the fact they char the miso sauce on the tofu. That was a nice addition – aburi tofu (*≧ڡ≦*). I was told the coffee’s quality varies and that day was not the best. But I enjoyed my Mork hot chocolate. If you are in Melbourne, and come across hot chocolate called “Mork”, go for it! Think of it as Melbourne’s Valrhona. I won’t say it’s the same standard, but its pretty good all the same.

Price: $20+ for a meal

Worth a re-visit?: I could see myself re-visiting this place when I feel like having fancy sandwiches for brunch. But I suspect with the limited menu, I would be bored of it soon.

Le Bajo Milk Bar

8-14 Howard St, Melbourne Victoria 3051 

Lebajo.com.au

Mon – Sun: 9.30AM to 3.30PM

[bleachbleachbleach]

For the anniversary ask: how do you think the aging of Shinigami works?

@jiyle asked a variation of the same, so I will count this answer for both!

As you both know, there are lots of different shinigami aging theories out there, which I think is fabulous. Here’s mine!

I. BIOLOGY

How does shinigami aging work? My first impulse was not to try too hard to analogize it to human aging. I mean, how old is Lightning McQueen in human years? He’s a car, so why not just imagine him in car years? As someone who owns a car that is the same age as the cinematic masterpiece, Pixar's Cars, "16-year old car" carries a lot of meaning that is untranslatable to an approximate human age.

But maybe shinigami aging is more similar to human aging than it first appears. Sure, shinigami aging is wacky and non-linear, but so is human aging. Human aging sees periods of rapid development, and also periods of (seeming) stasis. Aging approximates different mathematical functions at different points in a person’s life.

Generally speaking, that seems to describe what we see of shinigami aging pretty decently, too. It seems like the three main distinctions between shinigami and human aging are:

Shinigami live longer lol.

Shinigami periods of development and stasis are more pronounced. Rather than just having their aging streeeeetched to fit the length of their lifespan, their periods of development are more acute/extreme.

Human aging is more readily generalizable to a population, whereas shinigami seem more variable. We have the Academy Kids + Hitsugaya more or less getting older at some kind of regular interval, even if maybe they are not quite exactly the same interval. But we also have Unohana. And Shinji, for that matter, lopsided man of mystery.

As for more specifics? Meh. People in Seireitei probably age differently than those in Rukongai. Shinigami probably age differently than non-shinigami souls. (Which I imagine could make for some interesting family dynamics!) The reiryoku you possess probably plays a role here, and perhaps even its expression as reiatsu plays a separate one. I think there are a lot of variables to play with here and I take a plot of pleasure in that. To add to the variables, I’m frankly not convinced that time is even linear in Soul Society, nor am I convinced that time (and space) are uniform ACROSS Soul Society.

One last thought to close this section: If we want to imagine the biological age of a shinigami, particularly a Captain-class shinigami, what analogy is most appropriate? Do we analogize age in terms of humanity? That thing shinigami echo/ghost? Or is it more appropriate to imagine their life milestones like those of a star, a ball of incredible and otherworldly energy?

The Hell Arc seems to strongly imply that the Gotei did not think about this. Or at least, possibly not enough.

--

Below the cut: Shinigami theories of development, age as an identity category and its relative importance (or lack thereof), and how human interaction might impact these ideas.

--

II. CULTURE

Because their biological age is harder to meaningfully quantify, I feel like it’s probably even less important, culturally, to shinigami than it is to us. As age approaches infinity, what is one millennium, or two? Things like your class/rank/reiatsu classification seem like they would be infinitely more relevant for anyone trying to figure out who you are, or how to interact with you. (Imagine GoteiMingle… instead of A/S/L you give your rank/gender/division. What a miserable little website, LOL.)

I think it’s also worth thinking about what Soul Society’s conceptions of these different, less culturally relevant life stages would be, since for humans, the concept of "childhood" (what it is, what ages it covers, why it matters) is already historically variable. Soul Society does seem to mostly acknowledge that children are different than adults, so there’s that. (Maybe because of the preponderance of ghost children they deal with?). Yoruichi understands Byakuya as an adolescent in TBTP, and Kyouraku and Ukitake express similar sensibilities in the Beast Swords arc.

But it also seems like Soi Fon is Yoruichi’s vassal before she’s understood is a child, and I imagine Byakuya is family head-in-training before he is a child, too.

This is an oversimplification, but in the Edo period, childhood/adulthood were understood as particular social stages demarcated by coming-of-age ceremonies. These did roughly align with biological age, though children transitioned into "adulthood" somewhere between ages 13 and 20 (in the scheme of things, a pretty broad range). As a child, you got to play and socialize. But you were also already understood to be in-training to become a samurai, or a merchant, or a priest, or family head, or marriageable, or whatever; and then you became that thing. You weren’t an adult because you turned 18, or 20, but because you acquired the ability to do adult work. (And/or your paranoid family really needed you, at age 3, to be family head, LOL. But let’s ignore those cases.)

This seems to track with Soul Society’s sensibilities, in the sense that shinigami adulthood would be less about your biological age than about having completed training (e.g. Academy). I’m not saying that this is how you *should* see things; I just think it’s likely that this is how they do. In a world where rank and/or class supersedes all, and adulthood is defined as the ability to do adult work, if you’re employed then you’re an adult. 

Like, I don’t think shinigami by and large see Hitsugaya as a child. We don't generally tend to see his authority questioned (at least in formal situations; antics happen in a different register). He probably did intentional work for this, yeah, but it’s not as though his youth were this insurmountable obstacle to achieving respect as a captain. I feel like most shinigami probably don’t go around thinking "what is this child doing here"; and moreover, they also probably don’t even think, even in a neutral way, "that one is a child." He's a captain.

Ironically, the two people who don’t ever seem to get on board with this* are Ichigo and Aizen, with Ichigo calling him "Toushirou" and Aizen calling him "Hitsugaya-kun" (both when they are celebrating birthdays AND when Aizen is repainting the Council of 46 chambers with fresh blood). Because, well, Aizen is an asshole, and Ichigo is on his own planet and has clear ideas about how that planet works, LOL. Which is fine because it’s a great planet.

And I think all of this can be true without having to be completely blind to Hitsugaya’s biological age, whatever it may be. He knows he’s young, and tends to be upfront about that as long as that’s not taken to be synonymous with not being an adult.

In Chapter 80 Renji refers to him as 例の天才児 (rei no tensaiji), or "the model child prodigy." Mildly derisive, but I’m pretty sure it’s the "model" part rather than the "child" part that Renji finds annoying. (Though the Viz omits both of these, so perhaps they had a different opinion, XD.)

In Chapter 208, Shawlong Qufong also describes Hitsugaya as 幼い (osanai), "young," in the sense of not being fully-developed, which he links grammatically to a description of Hitsugaya’s bankai. I think it’s intended more a statement of fact than it is an insult—osanai doesn’t have an inherently negative connotation, though maybe it’s worth mentioning that it appears to evoke the idea of literal babies more than say, a young man or even a young boy.

AND SURE, what does Shawlong know about shinigami. What does Shawlong know about anything? But I think we can throw Shawlong a bone and take this to mean that Hitsugaya’s biological age is unambiguously young. But in spite of this, it may not be functionally relevant or "read" socially in shinigami day-to-day.

* NB: Hinamori is in her own category!! And omake Ukitake, who I'll reference later. There’s also the bathhouse lady from Shinigami Cup 74, who reads Hitsugaya as a child in spite of the fact that they are in the Seireitei (I assume—how far would Hitsugaya have agreed to walk with all their paperwork in hand??) and he is literally wearing his Captain’s haori. I think about her all the time. She keeps me up at night. 

III. HUMANITY

This isn’t to say that referencing someone’s youth can’t be done derogatorily. Byakuya shouts at Ichigo during their big pre-execution fight, and called him 小僧 (kozou), "boy." Which I mean, Ichigo is literally… 15… And Byakuya is what, more than 10x that?

More to the point, I think it’s really interesting to think about how shinigami specifically think about human age, too. All humans are younger than anyone in the main cast, and the Karakura Kids are BABIES. But they are also human adolescents, on the cusp of childhood and adulthood at once, and I imagine that’s often baffling and/or fascinating to the shinigami. I mean, I think Ichigo is baffling to Soul Society for a lot of reasons, LOL, but this would be another one for the bingo card.

Additionally, during the Edo period, the concept of adolescence as a "thing" was kind of on-again, off-again, and inasmuch as we can play with Soul Society’s Edo references that one seems fun to me, in terms of whether or not a shinigami believes that there’s anything between childhood and adulthood. Especially when you think about what the modern vs. Edo expectations of different biological ages and their relationship to adulthood might be. And ESPECIALLY ESPECIALLY when you think about the ways those differences are countered by the fact that they are living a manga series, and fifteen-year olds in manga series are a whole other Thing. I mean, even in the most slice-of-life corner of Bleach, half of Ichigo’s friends are living independently at 15!

I’m also interested in shifting ideas of childhood in Soul Society as a result of ongoing contact with the human world. Being a shinigami is by and large defined by services rendered. It’s in the name! And if you’re not doing that, then what are you doing. But if you’re an "adult" after six measly years of Academy, potentially for thousands of years, and being an adult is defined by doing work, I imagine it’s difficult to remember what childhood even is, or what forms of play/pleasure/curiosity were part of it (and perhaps should still be cultivated, even on the other side of the divide). I know they have clubs and whatnot, but I don’t think that means this difficulty does not exist. Does contact with the human world help? (Or do they just end up ferrying a bunch of extremely sad overworked salarymen ghosts across like, "That’s rough, buddy.")

Did the development of children’s literature as a form inspire Ukitake’s "Sougyo’s Refusal!" serialization? What about his (somewhat haphazard) gifts of candy? The fact that he actually knows everyone’s birthdays and puts them into the SC? Is this the way Ukitake, as a thousanty-something year-old shinigami, courts modernity?

[manessha545]

San Pedro de Atacama

Town in Chile

ATACAMA DESERT RAINBOW VALLEY: 1000 TIMES WOW!

The Rainbow Valley, or Valle Arcoiris in Spanish, may not be the most popular site in the Atacama Desert, yet with its incredible colors, I can assure you that it is worth a visit! In addition, located at 3,500 m above sea level, the Arc-en-Ciel valley is a great "intermediate altitude" excursion to gently acclimatize to the altitude before going higher. As such, I remind you that San Pedro de Atacama where you are staying is at an altitude of 2500 m and that sites such as the geysers of Tatio or the Miscanti and Meniques lagoons, which I recommend you to discover last, are at an altitude of more than 4,000 m.

How to get to Vallée Arc-en-Ciel

Leave early!

Departure at 7:30 am from the Tiny Hostel Atacama in San Pedro de Atacama. Why 7:30 a.m.? For 2 reasons: ● the morning coolness, which is relative, because the temperature rises quickly during the day despite the altitude. ● At the beginning of the morning, there are always fewer peopleon the sites and the tour operators have not yet landed the herds...

Located 66 km northwest of San Pedro de Atacama, the Rainbow Valley will be a good test for the body, to see how it copes with the rise in altitude.

Ruta 23-CH

First the road: so far so good!

First of all, you have to take the Ruta 23-CH (the one that leads to Calama) for 35 km. There, you have to turn right onto the B-207 which is a nice asphalt road like the 23-CH. Normally, if I refer to the few indications I have about the Rainbow Valley, it takes 1 hour to get there from San Pedro de Atacama. That's in theory!

A very nice meeting on the way...

But that's without counting the encounter with a charming tribe of alpacas who are not shy and super coquettish with their colorful wool earrings. As you know, animals are a big part of my hobby, I love it and as a result, the photo shoot drags on. And then there are the baby alpacas! They look like cuddly toys, I'm completely in love!

Young alpaca on the road to Rainbow Valley

Alpaca wool

Well, despite this extended stop, no cars have yet passed on this road. The Rainbow Valley is really less crowded than other sites and besides, as you will see, nothing is really indicated...

I know that you have to continue on the B-207 to the bridge over the Rio Salado and that, just before this bridge, there is a track on the left that you have to take for 3 km before turning left again to reach the Rainbow Valley. yes, except that quite frankly there's nothing indicated... So I rely on my feeling and the (precious) app Map.me to get to my destination...

Alpaca on the road to the Rainbow Valley

Then the track... Rock'n Roll: Things Are Getting Tough!

But once you're on the track, it gets really hard core. To tell you it's in very bad shape is an understatement. Hollows, bumps, gaping ruts, pebbles and sharp stones that purposely put themselves in the middle of it... It shakes badly! To this must be added 4 rock'n roll fords... Not very reassuring because the car, a Peugeot 2008, is low and not really adapted to this type of rodeo game! My legs are shaking and my buttocks are squeezing so much that I'm freaking out that something is blowing up on the car... And then, there is no passage: it seems that no one ever goes to this famous Rainbow Valley... This stretch of track is supposed to be 3 km long, but in conditions like this, the 3 km seems like 15 km. I should have taken pictures to immortalize this passage but as I was scared to death, I didn't think for a second about the camera.

Finally, 3 km later (phew !!), on the left fork for the Rainbow Valley, this time, it's signposted. Just over 1 km to the car park. At 9:30 a.m., yes, I'm there!

The famous Rainbow Valley lives up to its name!

As soon as you arrive, it's an enchantment! The décor, which borders on surrealism, is strikingly beautiful! Even if you're not a fan of geology, it's impossible to remain indifferent to this riot of incredible colors due to the richness of minerals: ● green (copper oxide)● shades of red (clay and iron)● white (calcite and calcium carbonate)● blue● ochre (pyrite)

The Rainbow Valley: free and open access

What's crazy is that this little geological gem of the Domeyko range is free and open access. So, of course, it's nice to be able to come and go as we please, BUT it involves big risks in terms of the preservation of this exceptional environment: ● looting. If every visitor finds it nice to bring back one or more colored stones as a souvenir... ● Degradation. Of course, there is a path, but nothing prevents you from getting off it...

In addition to these risks, nothing is indicated on the site. No explanation! What a pity!

Don't settle for the small loop...

As with all the sites around San Pedro de Atacama, I can only recommend getting acquainted with the place, taking the time to discover. And here, don't settle for the small loop around the car park.

I had spotted on the app Map.me a 2.5 km walk leading to the viewpoint on the Arcoiris valley. Not known, you don't come across a cat there! In addition, walking at this altitude allows you to acclimatize in order to go even higher in the days to come.

Here are the details of the route: ● From the car park, go 800 m to a first fork● At this fork, take the path on the left● Go 1 km to a second fork● At this second fork , turn left again● Travel another 700 m to gain a nice viewpoint of the Rainbow Valley with the snow-capped volcanoes in the background

Heading deep into the Rainbow Valley, First fork, Second fork, At the very bottom of the Rainbow Valley

View of the volcanoes

The advantages of having "hung out" in the Rainbow Valley!

At 1:30 p.m., the parking lot emptied of the few tour operators who ventured into the Rainbow Valley this morning. In fact, the site has regained its fascinating desert calm.

Another important detail for photographers: the sun has turned and the colors are much prettier than this morning when they arrived.

Colours

Fear of the infernal trail on the way back and... Good surprise!

I'm really apprehensive about this damn track that I'm going to have to take on the way back too. Because if it's happened 1 time, tempt the devil a second time... I'm anxious!

But just before reaching the 1st ford, 2 cars roll off a track on the right!! So what is this track??? Not seen on the way out!

The right track!

A quick check on Map.me, indeed it does join the B-207, but not in the same place. As a result, it avoids fording and the icing on the cake, it looks much better.

But what the hell, why didn't I see this track on the way out? And why is it materialized as dotted lines on Map.me while the other trail of death that kills is materialized in solid lines?? I'm not happy with that!

Route B-207: place where the right track takes to avoid cold sweats!

So, I understand better why they say that the Rainbow Valley is accessible with any classic car! On the other hand, you really have to know where the track ends on the B-207 because there is really no indication!

If you haven't had enough of discovering the Rainbow Valley, know that you can take the opportunity to: ● discover the petroglyphs of Hierbas Buenas ● visit the village of Rio Grande

Once again, a great day of adventure around San Pedro de Atacama! Chile continues to set the bar very high!

Atacama Desert Rainbow Valley: 1000 times wow! (laterresurson31.fr)

San Pedro De Atacama!

[epigstolary]

No Going Back

You really didn’t think this through, did you? You thought you could experiment with gaining, see how it went, and give it up if you didn’t like the result. You went from being trim and slender to a little thick pretty quickly — having a noticeable butt, a belly for the first time, enough chub to give you curves all over. You liked that. You wanted more.

So you started eating like a gainer, and it worked. You got the large fry and the large soda with your lunch. You made a point to always get dessert after dinner. Sometimes after lunch. You never missed that midnight snack, that afternoon snack, that late morning snack. And you grew.

You noticed it in your waistline first — the pants, the underwear that kept getting too tight, even as you kept moving up sizes. Then it was your shirts, which seemed to be shrinking and getting tighter as your belly grew and hung lower, your chest and arms thickened, your love handles flowing out in larger and larger rolls. Eventually it hit your thighs, arms, double chin — and you weren’t just thick anymore. You weren’t even chubby; you were fat all over.

And other people took notice too. Your friends, especially those who loved going to the gym and perpetually tweaking their diets, teased you for letting yourself go so badly. Your family started dropping hints — eventually not so subtle ones — about your condition. Where you saw yourself as someone who wasn’t anywhere close to the size of the superchubs you admired most, they saw a formerly skinny person who was apparently ballooning out of control. They scrutinized you every time you ate a meal, every hour you spent playing video games, every time you put on a piece of clothing that was ever so slightly too tight.

As if you weren’t self-conscious enough already. At the start, gaining was fun, and you didn’t think of it as much more than playing dress-up with your body. But eventually the extra weight, and the diet it took to gain it, started to change that. The large fry went from an indulgence to an expectation, and you craved your snacks and desserts when you couldn’t have them. Your car started feeling uncomfortable and cramped. You had to move your flab out of the way to do things, like wash your body or reach into your pockets. A short walk, a small stair, a long time standing left you winded and overheated. True, you had never been the athletic type, but attracting attention to yourself like this — being the object of side-eye and smirks over how out of shape you were — was a new, uncomfortable experience.

So you resolved to quit gaining and get your old body back. And that’s when you realized it. You can’t just do things the way you used to do them and go back to being the way you were — it doesn’t work like that. Putting on a couple hundred pounds changes who you are. You’d have to fight to get your old body back, using a body you specifically made to be as ill-adapted to that as possible. A body that exceeds its capacity just by trying to move itself. A body that demands calories, fats, and sugars constantly. A body that has such limited endurance, it’s practically designed for gaining by default.

This is not a body you could take to the gym seven days a week. You’re not giving just salad and vegetables to a subconscious screaming for pizzas and burgers. No way you’re starting an “active lifestyle” in a body that can barely lumber to the car. You may as well face facts. You’ll be lucky if you can work your way up to a walk around the block every day, and drop ten or twenty pounds to get the condescending congratulations of those around you. But “thin” is never going to be a word people use to describe you again.

You should be thankful if you can stay where you are, quite frankly. You live in a body now that wants you to get fatter anyway, and it’s not like your metabolism is going to get faster as time goes on. There’s every likelihood that, even if you’re not gaining, your weight is going to creep up on you, bit by bit, a few pounds every few months. In a few years, you might look up and realize that while you thought you were holding steady, you’d packed on a stealthy few dozen more.

I wonder what that’s going to do to you. It’s not like you’re starting at a trim 150 — you’re adding that weight to an already morbidly obese body. You’re groping blindly toward a tipping point. At what point does the creeping extra weight disrupt your equilibrium — make you that much less active, that much more tired, that much hungrier — and send you back into the habit of accelerating gains? Or worse, what happens when that ankle twists, or that knee gives out, and you’re stuck on the couch for a couple weeks? You might just come out of your “recovery” with even less endurance and an unstoppable appetite, primed to start obscenely gorging yourself and put on... well, who knows how much?

I think by now you realize just how much trouble you’re in. You’re already fatter than most people can even imagine a person being, and you’re in no position to reverse course. One slip and you’re on the road to tv-freakshow fat. And all because you thought you could eat a few burgers and get chubby and not face any consequences.

Hope it was worth it.

[doiefy]

for old times' sake // nakamoto yuta // osaki shotaro

PART OF DAWN TO DUSK.

Sober and intoxicated reminiscence over the past takes a darker turn in the midnight indigo eyes of a stranger.

genre: modern vampire, crime, angst (i need a new genre called edge because this isn't even angst) pairing: nakamoto yuta x osaki shotaro x gn. reader warnings: alcohol and drugs, implications of sex, compared to other works in this series, this is pretty tame word count: 1.3k

note: This can absolutely be read on its own, and contains no spoilers for any of the other works in the series; though there are definitely a few things that tie back to respice finem. For those who have read respice finem, this blurb takes place at the same time as part vii., while Johnny is at 0 Mile. Canonically, the reader character here is male, but I've kept it pretty ambiguous and neutral for the purposes of being a fucking slave to Tumblr meta. At some point I'll probably update this with a little rundown of that hehe.

YUTA STARED INTO the swirling, amber depths of his drink and tried his best to ignore the chatter.

This wasn’t his type of venue. Far from it. The place reeked of beer, piss and sweat, all barely masking the stench of vomit and floor cleaner used to wipe away the mess. His shirt stuck insistently to his skin with sweat, and the legs of his bar stool squeaked against the slimy floor tiles with every subtle shift of his weight. Staying still would certainly help—diminish the sights and noises attacking his senses, keep him from losing his mind so early on and to all this insanity—but he couldn’t help it. So he kept at it: a steady rhythm back and forth, his gaze continuously following the red contours of his drink.

The chimes above the front entrance tinkered with a sinister melody, and he paused his rocking to look. A hot breeze tore through the establishment, carrying the smell of tobacco and car exhaust. He caught a glimpse of a boot, worn leather and rusty buckles, a muddy stain below one’s knee, rips in a plaid shirt. Two men entered and stood illuminated by the neon lights for a brief moment, but Yuta had already turned away. He was waiting for someone else. 

Though quite frankly, he didn’t think it worth waiting any longer. 

“They’re not coming,” he muttered beneath his breath, and quickly summoned the bartender with a demanding hook of his finger. A young vampire with grey skin and blue eyes, all nervous and skittish, scurried over. “Your best whiskey?”

“Ah—” Only a split second of hesitance, but Yuta’s patience had been wearing thin all night. He couldn’t wait a split second. 

“Kirin? Yoichi?”

“Kurayoshi, sir,” the bartender finished in a near-stutter, reaching for something. A glass bottle hit the counter with a resounding thud, and Yuta reeled at the noise. “Would you like—”

“Forget it,” Yuta snapped, and flicked at his half-finished drink in irritation. It was a clear and definitive gesture for the bartender to take the offending liquid away—but the young man only stood in stupor and confusion. Finally, Yuta plucked the stained glass from the table and placed it directly in his hand. He scoffed in annoyance, and the bartender hurried off. 

“Were you expecting Yamazaki?” came an indignant groan from next to him. The voice then continued in a simper: laced with feigned pity, unusually pitched, an artificial sweetness that could rot and blacken teeth. “The poor thing. He did not deserve that.”

“They’re not coming, Shotaro,” Yuta repeated calmly. He’d made himself clear enough the first time and he knew the younger vampire had heard him; the tight repetition was just to expel any murderous thoughts from his head before they spiralled out of control. 

He was normally a patient man, content to scheme over the course of months, years, even decades if needed—but irrational urges came with age. After all, it was in his nature. Borne of night and ancient blood magic, all vampires were inevitably monstrous, suppressed only by their peaceful coexistence with their human counterparts. Yuta was bound by several contracts, bound to humans who couldn’t fathom what horror he really was; so bloodshed in his hometown was no mess he wanted to clean up. 

“Wait a little longer, darling,” Shotaro chided, knocking back the rest of his drink. He grimaced at the taste, but swallowed anyway. Osaki Shotaro was far too particular for warm beer in a glass that someone had likely spit in, but he was also—presently—too high to care. His eyes had darkened with a silent, contemplative pleasure: amber and brassy yellow hues pouring into each other, all glossy like he was on the verge of tears. Empty emotion, despite the boredom, anger and annoyance Yuta often witnessed. “They know what will happen if they do not negotiate with us.”

“No, they don’t,” Yuta snapped. “I don’t even know what I’ll do if they don’t show. I won’t track down and maul people on the street. Not now. The accords, the company, and all the—”

Shotaro looked up at him, confused; the drugs had rendered the concept of time meaningless to him. He stared at him a little longer. “What year is it? 1965?” 

“2016.”

“2016?” The two of them had ceased their drunken, high, lustful adventures with each other in the early 70s. There was no embarrassment, only a short moment of sobriety. Shotaro tilted his head, suddenly noticing the dated accent that had graced his speech. Then his words came out flat and fast, more appropriate for the present day. “Oh. Suppose I had a bit too much to smoke earlier.” 

“You reminisce when you’re high,” Yuta realized. It wasn’t as endearing as it was entertaining—and maybe a little deserving of mockery—but when the reminiscences concerned Yuta himself, he couldn’t help but smile. Just a wry twitch of his lips as his mind went spinning back to a simpler time. 

“I get confused,” Shotaro corrected him, now a bit more sober, and rather abruptly. Such were the benefits of vampire anatomy: being able to indulge, to lose oneself, to drink oneself into stupidity but still resurface from it if necessary. No matter how far gone, they would always come back to their senses for pressing matters. 

And apparently, this was a pressing matter for the younger vampire. 

“I confuse the past with the present. Like I did just now.”

“You got confused with a rather… interesting part of the past,” Yuta mused, as vivid images presented themselves to his mind’s eye: the two of them sprawled out on a barren mattress, entangled in drugs and each other, and maybe another person every now and then. Moonlight spread thin across the sheets, soothing irritated skin and burn marks left by the sun. Drifting, meeting, indulging, leaving, with no complex emotions or obligations. Being regarded as vile and malicious by humans, yet knowing an all-consuming, euphoric freedom.

“Perhaps.” Shotaro gave a coy smile, and leaned closer. His teeth—sharp fangs tucked away so they were more or less harmless—gleamed dangerously beneath the flickering lights of the bar. Closer, a little more, still closer; until Yuta could smell blood on the younger vampire’s breath and see black specks in his eyes. Breath against his ear, a frozen heartbeat, and gentle vibrations when he spoke again. “I think they’re here, Yuta.”

You stood at the entrance, shaking water from your hood and surveying the premises for your contact. Newly-turned but bold, confident, barely phased by the hostile looks sent your directions; the older folk could tell new blood from their own, and didn’t like the stench of turning bodies. You ran a hand through your hair, did another sweep of the room, and then focused in on the two vampires seated at the bar.

“Just one? And new blood?” Yuta questioned, enraged again. “They must be joking.”

“Pretty thing,” Shotaro simpered, now easing himself back into the high and throwing caution to the wind, his voice to irrational thoughts. He reached for Yuta’s hand, trailing careful fingers over his pale skin. “What do you think, darling? If you won’t maul the pretty thing to get your answers, maybe we can have some fun instead?”

“You mean resorting to seduction,” Yuta scoffed, but gave you a once-over anyway. Delicate features, midnight indigo-coloured hair, sparkling indigo eyes that might have once held galaxies and distant seas in their depths when you were still alive. Human maybe a few months ago, a week ago, mere days ago, but you were now pale-skinned and a creature of night—you seemed content with such a reality, embraced it like it had always been a part of you. The crime running rampant in the city, tearing the city to shreds, you ran with it regardless of the consequences. You were just as Shotaro had been when Yuta first found him.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” he murmured, slowly rising from his seat to tower over Shotaro. Across the room, you locked eyes with him, watched as he kissed the corner of his companion’s mouth. An endearing, reminiscent gesture; and even sweeter words whispered while you were still out of earshot: 

“For old times’ sake.”

[angryschnauzer]

Warm Hands

Summary; Its your fourth date with Henry and you still haven’t slept together, so when you arrive at his house for a picnic, you are surprised to find that he needs your professional help as a physiotherapist. But once you get your warm hands on his body, neither of you can hold back much longer.

A continuation of my Henry x Physio Reader story previous part here

A/N This is wholly inspired by Henry’s recent instagram post and the part where he said that no-one needs to see him in his underwear on the kitchen table because I CERTAINLY DO.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Physiotherapist Reader 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, massaging Henrys thighs, sports injury, Henry in his underwear, unwanted erections, unprotected sex, Henry being slightly dom, reader taking control, creampie. 

Unbeta’d, all typo’s are free range and organic. I do not run a tag list but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post something new, AND its where you can find my previous works.

Warm Hands

Parking your little car in the corner of the secluded driveway you shut the engine off and chewed nervously on your lip. It was your fourth date with Henry and he’d casually invited you for a picnic ‘in the quiet countryside’, but hadn’t been specific on the end time of your date. What was making you nervous was that you hadn’t actually slept together yet and the vagueness of the end time had you wondering. 

Your first date had been coffee a few weeks after meeting when you’d stumbled upon him injured in the park during your lunch break from the hospital where you worked as a physiotherapist. Second date had been to a rugby game where he’d put too much strain on his injured leg and had ended with him scheduling an appointment with you for some professional physio treatment. Third date had been dinner at a fancy restaurant that had ended with a mind blowing kiss in your hallway but nothing further as he had to get home to let Kal - his dog - out for an evening bathroom break.

So now you were at date number four and you were more than ready to take the relationship to the next level. You glanced at the small overnight bag you’d packed ‘just in case’ with a few essentials. Deciding to leave the bag in the car for now, you got out and made your way to the small kitchen door of the mews cottage, Henry having explained how it was the best door to come to. What you weren’t expecting to see as you looked through the glass section of the door was Henry grimacing in pain as he steadied himself on the kitchen counter. Trying the doorknob you stepped inside;

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?!” slipping your hands beneath his arms as he winced and kept all his weight on one leg.

“Cramp…” he gasped; “... in my thigh…”

Looking down you only then realised he was in just his underwear below the waist, the muscles in his thigh tense and frozen. Just then the steam iron hissed and you saw that he must have been pressing his smart chino’s just before you’d arrived;

“Ok, let's get you rested somewhere… hop onto the table…”

You helped him move the few feet to his massive wooden table that ran the centre of his kitchen, quickly moving a pile of papers on there and setting them down elsewhere, before noticing the switch for the iron and flicking that to off. Returning to Henry you placed your hands onto his cramping thigh, the muscles rock solid where the spasm was in full hold.

“Uurggh ah uuuhhh” Henry moaned, wincing and sucking in a sharp intake of breath as another spasm shot through his muscle. 

You held your hands over the muscle trying to warm it so it could relax, rubbing the skin as he whimpered from the pain;

“Shhh it’s ok, it’ll go. We just need to warm your leg up”

Running your hands around his thigh you attempted to remain as professional as possible, but the sight of his quite frankly enormous thighs under your hands were a sight to behold. Looking up you saw that Henry had his arm thrown across his face as the spasms kept sending waves of pain through his leg, and it was then that as you moved your hand around the inside of his thigh that you felt it. You couldn’t help but to look where your knuckles had just touched, your eyes going wide as you saw the considerable bulge he had packed in there. Another whimper from his lips pulled your attention away from the elephant’s trunk in the room, rubbing your hands over his thigh as it still cramped. 

Nothing seemed to be having any effect, and it was then that you saw his hand was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were going white;

“Hen… you’re going to have to relax… let go of the table…”

He took a deep breath before finally speaking, his voice small and quiet;

“I can’t…”

“Why?”

“Because if i relax, i won’t be able to hold it back…”

It took you a few seconds to realise what he was talking about before with a dawning realisation hit that he was fighting a hard-on. What you did next surprised him enough to have him pull his arm away and look at you with wide eyed wonder, as you’d climbed into the table and straddled his thighs, your soft summer skirt falling around you. Resting your hands on his chest you nestled your leg right against his, the warmth of your skin starting to soothe the cramp;

“There…” you smiled at him; “Plus now you can relax as everything is hidden by my skirt…”

He glanced down to where you were sitting on him and you watched as he finally let go of the table, stretching his fingers out before with a smile rested his hand on your hip;

“Thank you… and i’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For… well…” he actually blushed, his cheeks and nose a beautiful shade of pink as he looked away bashfully; “I didn’t want you to think… umm, i don’t know really, i didn’t want to pressure you into anything…”

Resting your hands on his stomach you gently leaned forwards, your face over his as you smiled;

“You wouldn’t be pressuring me… i want this..”

At your works you rocked forward a little, knowing there was just the thinnest of lace between you and the jersey fabric that was struggling to contain Henry’s arousal. You watched as his expression change, his eyes grew a little darker and he licked his lips;

“Again…”

This time when you rolled your hips you found his other hand had grasped your hip too, his firm grip adding to the smooth roll as you ground your core against his hardening arousal. 

“C’mere…” he suddenly pulled you flush with his chest, his mouth upon yours as he kissed you fiercely which you eagerly reciprocated. The kiss was fiery, teeth and tongues before he suddenly gasped and pulled away; “FUCK!... The cramp’s back…”

Quickly sitting up you settled your weight over his thigh, the warmth from between your legs immediately soothing the strong muscle beneath you. Henry’s expression dropped and he look liked a sad kicked puppy;

“Its ok… it’ll go soon…” you reassured him

He let out a deep sigh;

“I just… i want to be able to please you…”

“To… please me?... Oh…” you took hold of his hand; “Henry… you will please me…”

“But… if i’m not at peak performance… i wanna bring my best game to our first time, ya’know?”

And just like that the blush was back on his cheeks, and you finally realised why he had been holding back;

“Henry… i really like you… like really like you, to be blunt just this brief grinding on you has me close. You don’t have to be in control all the time” you softly pressed his hand to your chest; “And i’m kinda getting the idea that when you’re in bed with someone you like to be in control, right?”

“Well, you can still be in control even if you’re not on top…”

His hand gently squeezed your breast through your dress as you watched the realisation of what you said sink in, and a mischievous smile crept over his face;

“So… what are we waiting for?” he cocked an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help but to laugh

“Your leg to stop cramping…”

“Oh… yeah…” he flexed the muscle beneath you and smiled; “Well, it seems ok now…” his other hand started to sneak beneath your skirts and it was your turn to be surprised;

“Henry! Now? Here?”

“Why not... you already said you were close, and as you can feel i’m ready…” he bucked his hips just the tiniest amount and you felt his considerable length rub against your mound.

“On the kitchen table?”

“Yes or No sweetheart…” just then his hand had found your panties and a thick finger was rubbing at your clit through the soaked lace

“Yes… fuck yes…”

You quickly lifted your hips enough to reach into Henry’s underwear and pull his erection free, marvelling at the thick girth and the heat of the silky skin against your hand, just as he pulled your underwear to the side. Rising up onto your knees you positioned him at your entrance and slowly sank down, gasping as his thickness stretched your velvet channel;

“Oh fuck…”

Beneath you Henry growled, his sharp teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he struggled to hold back from pulling you down, knowing that his size was a struggle to take at first and letting you go at your own pace would be worth it in the end;

“That’s it babe… doing so well” he let out a grunt as you took another inch, he could feel the warmth of your thighs as you got lower and was almost there, until he couldn’t hold out any longer and his hand instinctively pulled you down the rest of the way until he was balls deep inside you.

The moans that escaped your lips echoed around the room, your womb trembling from the sheer pleasure that was surging through you as you let your body adjust to his massive size. He rested both hands on your hips as you moved your own to his hard stomach, and with a grin you started to lift your hips and start to ride him.

“That’s it Babe” he praised you as he started to move your hips, to pull you down a little harder each time you would rise up on your knees; “Can feel your tight cunt squeezing me so hard already”

A litany of curses fell from your lips as he took control, moving you as if you weighed no more than a feather and he fucked you from beneath. Your orgasm was growing closer as whimpers escaped your lips, before with a blinding explosion in your mind you came with a scream. 

Henry was seconds behind, the tight squeeze of your cunt around him was enough to set his own orgasm off, pumping you full with rope after rope of his thick creamy seed, the knowledge that you’d be walking around all day with his cum dripping from you prolonging his orgasm even longer.

Henry pulled you down to kiss you, this time soft and gentle as his lips pressed to yours, your bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of your tryst. Resting on his chest you pulled away and smiled at him, his arms holding you tight;

“Do you still want to go on a picnic today? My friend has a hundred acre farm in the Surrey Hills, its beautiful”

“I’d love to” you started to push yourself up to decouple your bodies; “Sounds secluded too” 

“Oh, it is”

Carefully swinging your leg over Henry and climbing off the table, you extending a hand to him so he could side to the floor too;

“Can i suggest something then? Perhaps not chino’s then?”

He glanced at his still creased trousers as they sat on the abandoned ironing board;

“Why?”

“Grass stains” you said with a wink. 

Henry pulled you to his chest, his hand on your ass giving it a squeeze;

“Ooh naughty… good idea, i’ll go get my jeans… this is going to be a picnic to remember”

As he stepped away he called over his shoulder;

“If you brought an overnight bag might be worth bringing it in now, i fully intend on fucking you so much this afternoon you’ll be too exhausted to carry it in later”

Laughing you said ok as you went to your car, glad you packed multiple changes of underwear. As you returned to the house you went to pull a clean pair of panties out of the bag just as Henry was walking in buttoning his jeans and saw what was in your hand;

“No no, you’re keeping those panties on”

“But they’re soaked with your cum”

He wrapped his arms around you, his eyes dark with desire;

“That’s exactly why you’re keeping them on, the only other acceptable attire would to be bare beneath that pretty dress of yours, understand?”

“Yes Sir” you answered with a smirk as Henry grabbed the picnic basket and headed for the door. It was certainly going to be an afternoon to remember...