#but i want her to like me. i want to show her: look! i learned these for you so we can talk in all these different ways

[mapis-putellas]

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒍𝒌/𝑨.𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊

The first time you ever spoke to Aitana Bonmati, the conversation left you baffled.

It was a breezy, sunlit morning at the Barca training grounds, just a couple of weeks after you’d joined the team. You were new to Barcelona, and adjusting to life in Spain was already a challenge. On top of that, your limited Spanish made communication with most of your teammates feel like an endless series of charades. But Aitana was different. She’d already caught your eye—tiny but fierce. She had this incredible strength despite her size, and you soon learned she was affectionately called “baby Hulk” by her teammates. But beyond her reputation on the pitch, it was her affectionate smile that truly made her stand out.

On this particular morning, Aitana approached you, cheeks a little pink, as if she’d been rehearsing something in her head. Her gaze met yours, and she took a deep breath, then said, “You…buy coffee…me?”

You blinked, caught off guard, trying to decipher her intent. She pointed to herself and mimicked drinking, eyebrows raised expectantly. You weren’t sure if she was asking you to go get coffee with her or telling you to buy her one. Before you could even ask for clarification, she gave a satisfied nod, said “Gracias,” and walked off, leaving you standing there, coffee duty apparently assigned.

The next morning, you decided to show up with a coffee, hoping maybe it was what she’d wanted. You handed it to her, and her eyes widened in surprise. “No! No, no…not…this,” she stammered, clearly flustered. She stumbled through an explanation in her adorable English, trying to explain that she’d wanted to invite you for coffee, not for you to buy her one.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the misunderstanding now incredibly endearing, and she looked at you, cheeks burning, as she realized what had happened. “I…invite you. Coffee. Together,” she said slowly, determined to get it right this time.

From then on, you never let her forget that first conversation, bringing it up just to see her blush.

But despite the language barrier, something clicked between you two. You found yourself gravitating toward Aitana, charmed by her determination. She was magnetic, and even though her English was shaky, you could tell that she understood you in ways that mattered. And bit by bit, her English improved as the months went by. Your teasing about her early mistakes never ceased, though, and every time you brought it up, she’d laugh in that unfiltered way that made your heart flip.

Over time, the teasing became part of your routine, like an inside joke you shared just between the two of you. When Aitana scored a goal, she would always turn toward you and without fail, leap into your arms. You’d spin her around, feeling her legs wrap tightly around your waist, the noise of the stadium fading into the background.

At home, she was even more tactile, always finding ways to hang off of you. If you were cooking in the kitchen, she’d come up from behind, jumping onto your back with a soft grunt, her arms slung around your shoulders as she balanced on your hips. Or if you were watching TV, she’d curl up in your lap, her head resting lazily on your shoulder or absently tracing circles on your arm. Her touch was gentle, but there was a fierceness in her presence, as if she couldn’t get close enough, and it made you feel adored in a way that went beyond words.

After watching a particularly intense game, she decided she wanted to come up with a nickname for you. She scrunched her nose, deep in thought, muttering various possibilities in Spanish. Finally, she looked at you, beaming with pride as she declared, “I call you… ‘Big Bear’.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by her choice. “Big Bear?” you repeated, a little horrified. “Why?”

She hesitated, clearly noticing your reaction. “You are strong, but also… cuddly?” she tried to explain, searching for the right words. She looked at you, her face falling slightly as she read the alarm in your eyes.

You laughed, and she let out a relieved sigh, swatting at you playfully. “It’s not good?” she asked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You reassured her with a grin, telling her you’d come to accept “Big Bear” if that’s what she wanted to call you.

There was one viral moment when Aitana had been trying to answer fans’ questions at an open training session. Her English was still a work in progress, so when one fan mentioned they had been at the stadium all day, she tilted her head and, in her typical earnest way, asked, “You work, or not work?”

It became an instant meme among fans, something almost everyone teased her about it for weeks. Even you couldn’t help but join in, mimicking her question in a mock-serious tone. She’d roll her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips as she told you to stop, but you could see how amused she actually was.

Sometimes, she’d try to surprise you by practicing English phrases she’d learned. She’d walk up to you, saying “You are… beautiful, today,” the hesitation in her voice only making the words more precious. And each time, you’d melt, feeling as though those were the most wonderful words anyone had ever spoken to you.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[therandomfandomme]

We're all going feral over the whole "Mercy? Mercy?" which is so valid of us, but the way mercy comes back as a theme in this final saga is really interesting to me, because before this, Odysseus is asked for mercy, for forgiveness:

"Old king, our leader is dead

You've destroyed the serpent's head

Now the rest of us are no longer a threat

Old king, forgive us instead

So that no more blood is shed

Let's have open arms instead"

"No"

He has become Poseidon, the one that first forced him into believing that mercy isn't something he can afford ("Look what you turned me into"), which is made doubly poignant with Eurymachus echoing the open arms of Polites ("Greet the world with open arms"). Now I'm not saying he should have forgiven the suitors for what they were planning on doing, however, this interaction directly informs this one later:

"Throw down those weapons

And I ensure you'll be spared"

"After seeing what the king will do to us

We wouldn't dare"

Because Odysseus doesn't show mercy to Eurymachus, Melanthius doesn't want to take the risk when Telemachus extends mercy to them, which then leads to the starting interaction.

When extending mercy and creating a kinder world is discussed again, it's by Athena. She is the original god, who pushed him towards a lack of mercy, who found that a warrior of the mind is one that showed not mercy and Odysseus believed her during the war, even threw a baby of a roof about it, and it wasn't until after that he rebelled her teachings only to be forced into it by other gods (Poseidon and Zeus most specifically). To which this is said:

"If that world exists, it's far away from here

It's one I'll have to miss, for it's far beyond my years

You might live forever, so you can make it be

But I've got one endeavor, there's a girl I have to see"

"Very well"

"Father, she's waiting for you"

I especially want to highlight that Odysseus says it is beyond his years. He has become that monster and he can't undo that in the years he still has. If this is to happen, then it must be the future generations that Athena has to influence to make that world. Having her reply to that getting interrupted by Telemachus is very purposeful to me. Because he does still extend mercy, he is the new warrior she trained and she trained him differently because her belief changed.

But I also think having her show Odysseus her face with the lightning scar as she agrees is very telling. When she pushed Odysseus to be ruthless she had not been on the other end of no mercy, which is what makes Odysseus turn against her ("Unlikе you, every time someone dies I'm left to deal with the strain"). She now has been on the other side of it by the hands of someone Odysseus also faced and they were both shown the same lack of mercy. For Odysseus that was his final turning point where he chose no mercy, while Athena did chose mercy.

And in the end, she did get some mercy from Zeus in response from it. Zeus also learned from her, from the lesson Odysseus taught her, which was taught to him by Polites. And that mercy gets paid forward allowing Odysseus to get home (yes, I'm emotional about Polites helping Odysseus get home in the end). Almost every time mercy is shown, his journey progresses (Lotus eaters, Aeolous, Circe, Zeus).

Athena has been through not receiving mercy, but she still believes, is still working towards that future. And while she accepts Odysseus words about him being beyond such a world, she doesn't agree with him. Her reply feels more like accepting a dismissal rather than an agreement. And Telemachus shows up as a reminder that she is more correct than Odysseus in this, and he leads them into Penelope.

God, I love Penelope. With her, Odysseus tells someone yet again that he has changed ("I am not your kind and gentle husband") and that he would understand if she did not love him anymore. And then we get this banger:

"Only my husband knew that

So I guess that makes him you"

Penelope shows him mercy in this. She has asked him what he has done and she is given the option to not want him anymore after hearing about the monster he's turned into, but she doesn't. She forgives him. He asks for forgiveness and she grants it. That is mercy.

Not only that, but she also affirms that he is still him. The usage of husband here is important to me, because he says he's not her husband, who was gentle and kind, and she tells him that he is. He believes him beyond that world where people are empathetic and kind, but the roots of that world he created in Ithaca and with Athena allow him to come home. He isn't a monster beyond redemption, he is also a part of that kinder world, regardless of what he has done.

And then you have the music echo the Just a Man melody when Odysseus sings:

"I'm just a man who's trying to go home

Even after all the years away from what I’ve known

I'm just a man who's fighting for his life

Deep down I would trade the world to see my son and wife

I'm just a man"

He is brought back to who he was when he was still just a man, before he became a monster. He did trade the world to see his son and wife and that makes him just a man.

The whole musical asks the question when a man becomes a monster and I think while it is never explicitly answered, that the answer is: when he isn't shown mercy. And that by showing someone mercy, you can reverse that. That it isn't permanent. I really love the moral question of mercy vs. ruthlessness in that Epic has, so it was really interesting to see how it came back in the end :D

[delugyu]

finally got around to reading this!! SOOO GOOD… LEMME RAMBLE

first of all, this is seriously some of the most amazing world building i’ve seen in a fanfic. that is my #1 compliment about this fic, everything about the world is so thought out and magical. ++ so much attention to detail and backstory. i admire it a lot cause it’s really hard to do! i can’t imagine the amount of thought you put into this!! really super phenomenally well done.

i love fantasy AUs so much and this one tickled my brain just right… right off the bat there’s whimsy and lore laced in each paragraph. picturing each scene comes easily with how well you describe the settings and characters.

immediately upon taehyun’s introduction i could see that he was a complex character. a faerie with human ears, a faerie against geasa (note: had to look up what the plural of ‘geas’ was for that 😭), yet seemingly uninterested and cold towards the new human member of the team… then we learn his backstory, and that added depth to his character explains a lot about him.

the relationship building between taehyun and mc is soooo delish… his kind actions are masked with icy words, a constant since chapter one of him keeping her safe despite his coldness. also can i just say, im so obsessed with how “cold” embodies him so well: he’s from the north, so he’s both cold by nature and by choice. and what a stark contrast he is to yeonjun……. yeonjun…..,, omg do not get me started on yeonjun.

his character is probably my favorite in terms of how they’re written! this isn’t me saying i’m team yeonjun (im team #BOTH #AtTheSameTime #WaitWhoSaidThat) but he’s just sooooo… swoon-worthy 😵‍💫 from the moment he was introduced, i was smiling and kicking my feet. the amount of times i had to shut off my phone and take a breather at his lines. what a charmer.

i love that there’s something suspicious about him from the beginning, but not to the point where it’s off-putting to the mc (or to the reader). great foreshadowing!! and so easy to forget the suspicions too when he’s being so romantic and sweet. it’s a great way to show that the mc is easily swayed by romance, and that she tends to follow her heart.

where taehyun is all ice and snow, yeonjun is warmth and sunlight. it’s so easy for him to build a relationship with the mc, sunlight fosters growth. just another detail that i loved

lemme give my flowers to the beautiful gorgeous capable strong lovely mc while i’m at it… i love that she has such self-understanding. she knew she wanted more from her life than being a servant, so she became a spy. then she found love, and she knew she wanted more than being a spy. she takes herself seriously and values her own interests, which i love to see in a female character hehe 🤍

the slowwww burnnnn between taehyun and mc HELP MEEE!!! taehyun runs from love and conceals his emotions because all he’s ever known was betrayal and hurt… meanwhile mc similarly has led a life of misery, but in her case it makes her long for love and emotion. they’re so alike but so different, and each little moment where they find something to connect over… YESSSSS SIRRR!!!! A HUNDRED MORE OF THOSE!!!

i’m sooo interested that taehyun has the ability to lie… i wonder where that path is going to lead teehee. also when taehyun gets jealous my pants get wet. sorry.

super interested to see more of beomgyu too! he’s such a lovable character, i love those little moments he has with the mc. feels like there’s more in store for him and im excited to see it !!

anyway this is just so so so amazing and i’m really so excited to see what comes next. i was fr like squealing and blushing throughout all 5 chapters. (which i read in an embarrassingly short amount of time.) your writing skills are super inspiring…. i effing love you for this… accept my declaration of admiration…

sorry for this long ass review, i took a literature analysis course last semester and couldn’t shut up ever since.

i love this series so bad 😫🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

𝓘N WHICH 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 93.3k﹙ and counting! ﹚

genre high fantasy/faerie, smut, angst ˒ ˒

pairings faerie!taehyun x reader, faerie!yeonjun x reader

warnings violence, death, death of animals, smut (specific tags will be listed before each chapter), childhood trauma & mentions of abuse, jealousy, controlling & yandere relationship dynamics, unprotected sex, original characters but they only last for small amounts of time & act as story catalysts, fem! reader

˒ ˒ want a look into the world? here’s the pinterest board !! ༘⋆

﹙ 🪕﹚ playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

: ̗̀﹙❆﹚𝓅arts . : ↘︎

one ˒ two ˒ three ˒ four ˒ five ˒ ...🪶

© hyukascampfire please do not steal, plagiarize, or repost any of my works.

[thewizardingpost]

Never a Burden 

poly!marauders x fem!reader 

summary ⤑ you get caught making out with James in the hallway causing you to face a punishment from the new headmaster. when the punishment turns out to be one that scars words into your skin after writing them down on paper–you try to hide it from the guys so as to not concern them.  warnings ⤑ 1.3k, suggestive (making out), established relationship, hurt/comfort, injury (r sustaining, tw blood), this is based off of Umbridge’s punishments for the students in Harry Potter’s time, this is my post (I just got a new account)

You’ve had a knack of getting in trouble. It’s unavoidable when you date three of the known pranksters at Hogwarts–not to mention it's worse when you’re the one initiating ideas. And somehow, even after the series of ones that you’ve done, you’ve never been in detention. It didn’t make much sense to you, but you never questioned it. You were happy with your clean track record–that soon or later got busted when the new headmaster came in.

You didn’t care too much about said news until her new rules came to affect you. You learned fast that her new rules were stricter and a whole lot less fun to deal with. 

There really wasn’t any reason why James had your bodies so close together in public like this. It wasn’t necessarily a rarity–you’ve shared moments in public similar to this–but you’ve never had it escalate to this point. He’s been kissing you breathless, lips back on yours just seconds after moving to breathe. His hands were resting on your waist, yours on his face–pulling his face closer to deepen said kiss. 

“Oh no, no, no,” an airy voice says, voice getting louder as she moves closer, “this will not do.”

The both of you are dragged away from one another, your back hitting a wall that was a few feet behind you. You looked to her, the new headmaster, and already began to wish for her leave. She had her wand stuck up like a priss, beady eyes motioning between the two of you. 

“Who initiated this downright outrageous act,” she asks, humming at the end when neither of you answer quick enough. 

James’ mouth had moved like he was going to answer but it froze when he heard you. 

“Me. I did, headmaster.” 

         “Mm, that's so. Come with me to my office, dear, you’ll be facing detention,” she says, giving James a look when he starts to defend you, “anyone else who wishes to do the same as these two, or question my motives, will also face detention.”

While following her to the office you mouthed at James, telling him you’ll be alright. Based on how the boys described it, you’ll just be sitting in silence for an hour–which is nothing to be afraid or concerned over. 

She opens the door to her office, pointing at a seat nearby. A desk sat in front, empty until she placed a pen and paper in front of you. 

“I want you to write down, ‘I will keep my distance.”

        “How many times?”

“Well let’s see. However many times it takes for the message to sink in?”

         “You haven’t given me any ink?”

“Oh, you won’t need any, dear.”

You almost roll your eyes, hand angling on the paper to begin writing out the suggested phrase. After a few words your hand began to itch, tingling and burning. Once the ‘e’ had finished drying on the paper, you gasped when you looked over to your hand to find the phrase etched into your skin. It burnt like hell, slight blood trickling out from the corner. You learned to not dig hard into the paper then. You tried to write softly, ink barely showing on the paper as it would help to not dig so deep into your skin in search of ink. After four you felt like crying, tears forming in your eyes and making it hard to see. She had noticed, putting the pen down and saying that it seems like you’ve learned your lesson before sending you out. 

You turned to the closest bathroom, running the cold water over your injury. Tears fell down your face as the blood mixed with the water, turning it red until it got washed out. There wasn’t a sure way of keeping this to yourself, but you wanted to try. The boys, and especially James, didn’t need to know the events that transpired. It’ll only concern them. You didn’t want to give them another thing to worry about, feeling like you’ve used up too many of those ‘worry over me’ cards this week. If the wounds worsen or if you’re able to go a few days–then you’ll tell them. 

Then it’ll be good enough of a reason to ‘burden them’ again. 

“Sweetheart,” James exclaims when he finds you outside of his dorm room, moving aside to let you in. 

          Sirius presses a kiss to your head when you come to sit by him, “how was your first time in detention, gorgeous.” 

You clenched your fingers over the fresh wounds, “it was fine, boring. I see why you all hate it.” 

They moved from it–something you wanted to happen–so why did it upset you? You want to keep it from them, you’ve already burdened them enough this week, they don’t need another moment where the focus is on you. 

You had stressed over a test recently, confiding in them about it. You fretted over your owl when he didn’t return around his usual timing, again confiding in them about it. You lost an item in their room, and they helped you search for it. You’ve done enough. 

“Dove,” Remus calls, walking towards you, “what’s that on your arm?” 

        “Paint,” you lie, but it came too sudden–and you were never good at lying to them.

He huffs, smiling at you, “still a terrible liar. Did you hurt yourself?”

You look over at Sirius immediately and by the look on your face, everyone knows the look to him first was intentional. He sits up, “Why’re you giving me that look?”

          “Don’t get mad.”

“What happened,” he demands, looking over at your shirt that’s discoloring more with each minute. 

          “The headmaster today gave a rather unruly punishment.”

That’s all you explain before pushing your sleeve down with reluctant energy. Remus holds under your wrist, thumb affectionately rubbing the non-wounded skin as he looks over the injury. James had gotten up from his space, moving to get a glimpse as well. 

“From now on, I’ll go if she ever calls us to her office again,” he claims, earning a look from everyone after.

        “That will not be happening,” Remus whispers, moving the two of you towards his bed so he can officially clean out the wound with items inside of his drawer.

“And why not? I agree with James. If something happens, I’ll take the blame,” Sirius proposes. 

        “Because we’ll find a way around her. We don’t need to be obvious buffoons,” you wince when Remus wraps just a bit too tight in one area. He apologizes sweetly to you before continuing, “While we’re at it we can send a letter to the rightful headmaster, let him know what’s going on because this is appalling.”

You know the two agree when they move on with the conversation. 

“Love,” James looks to you, “why were you trying to keep this a secret?” 

        “I felt as if I've burdened you all enough this week, and didn't want to overwhelm you.”

“That’s highly unlikely to ever happen. Do you even remember all of the times I’ve asked for help this week?” 

Sirius snorts at his remark, and James chooses to ignore it for now. 

“Don’t ever think that giving us an opportunity to love and support you will turn into an event where you believe you’ll drive us away. You’re not a burden.”

      “But we are,” Sirius says, standing up from the couch, “well we will be after we scare this headmaster back to where she came from because who the fuck uses a cursed pen for a punishment. All you were doing was making out.”

“Be nice Padfoot, maybe she got caught and wanted to recreate that scene to make herself feel better,” James comments, smiling when he hears you laugh. 

[icarusredwings]

Yall ever think about how Logan has *nothing* from his universe? I can't imagine he had a big collection of things, but it makes me wonder about his very little amount of pictures, his Veteran hats, his badges, his devils bergade hat, honorary medals. No, he wouldn't have kept all of it. Not even half of it. But I just know that he sometimes sees someone with a matching badge from a specifc group and wants to flash them his own but can't. He hates the things he's done with his life, hates himself just as much. But he hates the way he has nothing to show for it even more.

Hates the way Jean turned Logan's old room into a memorial and hung up every award he kept, every badge, every medal, every hat, anything that showed significance of the time Logan spent protecting people.

At least that's what she claimed it's meant for but this Logan knows. He knows just how bloody these badges were before cleaned. He knew what it took to get that medal and reconized the stitching in one of the uniforms because his has to be fixed the same way.

But do you know what he really hates?

That almost everything in this room is from a time in which he was owned. Treated like an animal to be caged. Leashed. Chained.

It becomes very clear to him that the reason this Logan was liked so much is because he stayed, sure, but also he let himself be controlled. Be the property of someone else. Whether that be the X Men or the government, the military, didn't matter. He hated it all.

And yet... he's still envious. Because Logan STAYED. He fought when things got gritty.

Something he was too much of a coward to do.

When things got rough, he wouldn't fight like this Logan, No. He'd leave. Like a pathetic wuss.

Still to this day it confuses him. Why did he hold such an anger for him? Why did he let himself get chained down? Why did he care about people who just wanted to use him? Wouldn't it be better to leave? Who did he stay for?

"...He would have hated this."

Turning, He sees Kitty standing there beside him. He didn't even see her come in.

"Mmh.."

".. He would have said that too... I told her it was dumb. That you hated everything she makes you out to be... " She says, not looking at him but the picture on the wall.

"I'm not hi-"

"I'm not talking to you." The statment is sharp, glancing at him for just a moment. "But clearly, you hate it too.. I wonder..Do you hate it for the same reason?"

"...She made him out to be some kinda caged animal."

"She made you out to be some kinda war hero."

The parallels were said at the same time.

Kitty looks at him, brow raised. "He spent his entire life trying not to be that-"

"And I've been trying my entire life to be a hero. Look where that got me." Logan tells her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Kitty turns, flicking him in the nose.

"Ow, Hey!" He growls, trying to grab her hand, but she only phases through.

"You saved an entire universe. How are you not a hero?"

"Yeah! By killing my entire universe. One in which I've killed far more than you could probably count!"

Kitty gives him a look, crossing her arms and tilting her head. "...I'm a comp sci professor... try me. I bet more numbers have came out since you were in school, gramps."

Rolling his eyes, Logan grumbled. "Sure. Like im afraid of you, half pint."

Katherine's eyes widden and frowns, now looking away, hugging herself. He could smell how much this upset her, smelling the tears whelling up and the sadness within her.

"... Look I'm sorry. I don't know what you and him had but-"

She punches him square in the nose. Blinking, the pain floods the broken cartilage that had snapped. Blood trickles down his lip. For being so little, she sure packed a punch... wonder where she learned that.

His hand comes up, feeling it, then glared, snarling. "You little b-!"

"Ha ha! Can't touch me!" She says, wiping tears as his hand phases through her stomach.

"Rule number one! Never let your guard down." She tells him, now running off, completely morphing through the door as if it wasn't even there. "Can't catch me old man!"

Standing here, Logan blinks, his hands itching and eyes thinning. He wants to chase her. He's not sure why, but... he has a feeling that this isn't a fight. It feels more like a game of tag.. a dangerous game. But a game.

The smallest of smiles come to his face, unseathing his claws. Ripping open the door, he starts sniffing, trying to track her through the mansion.

A feeling of home fills his chest. It's foreign but...nice.

And just for a second? Logan thinks he knows why the dead fucker stayed..

[smallestapplin]

Hellooo! Good evening or um good morning so yea I was watching G1 transformers and canonically mirage is like loaded like he's from the upper class. So I um immediately thought that he's sugar daddy material. Like man only picks the finest/expensive cars even from G1. So I'm asking for like um sugar daddy mirage with a human female reader and since he doesn't know how to woo her, he practically buys her attention and time. Like he enjoys watching her spend his money. Casually suggesting that a top that he sees while she's scrolling on her phone and says that it would fit her and that she should buy it. Coincidentally, the color of the top matches his paint. Omg I've made this long huhu now I feel shy. 😿😿

Wait this is actually so cute and funny, I love it. I hope I did this right for you!💖

-

-

Mirage isn’t use to human ways of living and courtship, but he tries so hard to be friendly and welcoming, he wants you to know he’s safe to go to for anything! But falling for you wasn’t on that list, you’re such a tiny thing compared to him, he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

But how could he not? You’re so funny, so kind, always helping him learn more about your culture and Earth in general, even if that means he won’t ever live down calling a trees ‘organic speed stoppers’, but your laughter made it all the more worth it to embarass himself.

Mirage isn’t sure how to court you the human way, so why not his way? It’s not like he can ask anyone either, lest the tell you or make fun of him for falling for a human.

He shows off, racing Sunstreaker and Sideswipe often, doing dangerous stunts, taking sharp turns, making sure he’s flashy enough for you in his alt mode. He lives for your cheers, lives on your priase. The twins know what he’s doing, it’s what ever racer does to gain the affection of someone.

Yet you don’t pick up on that, you gush over him sure, telling him how cool that was! How cool he is! But it doesn’t seem to click, not that Mirage can fault for you that, you’ve never had anyone court you like that.

So, why not gifts? Gifts are a universal love language that can’t go wrong!

“Mirage, you really didn’t have to get me anything, being with you is more than enough.”

How you have him wrapped around your tiny organic digit, making him swoon and spark pulse.

“It’s no problem, really! I wanna show you how much I care about you, so it wasn’t difficult to find a way to buy things for ya!”

He’s too kind, even bought everything himself after hacking (very easily) into your phone and used his own funds to spoil you. Until he got a com from you the day all the packages arrived.

“How many things did you buy me!?”

“Eh, it wasn’t costly so I don’t really remember.”

“Wasn’t costly? Mirage, this must’ve cost my life’s savings!”

You thank him over and over and over again, but he doesn’t mind, always smiling at you and simply asking if you liked what he bought you. It makes your cheeks burn when he does that, asking so sweetly, honestly you might think he’d have an ulterior motive.

The skirts, the dresses, the tops all ranging fm cozy to cute to flirty, pants much the same, he’s even bought you expensive consoles, games, and even things you complained about needing to replace or needing in general.

Each time you cry he doesn’t need to buy you anything, yet the large bot just looks at you with hearts in his optics telling you it’s fine.

Soon nearly sixty percent of your outfits are all things he’s bought you, like a silent claim over you, you can’t move in your home without being reminded of him.

But then that top came in, the one he had been waiting for, and once it did he didn’t bother trying to hide his want to see it. He sits in your drive way in his alt mode, awaiting to see how you look, and by the all spark he’s nt disapppointed.

“Does it look okay?”

You aren’t exactly a big fan of crop tops, but the high waisted jeans you are wearing cover you enough to feel comfortable. The crop top itself is loose and flowy, honestly you could see yourself wearing it around more in the house.

It’s mainly blue with tie dyed black, white, and red, matching his colors perfectly.

You look stunning.

You jump a little, hearing his engines rev loudly. You laugh softly at the display.

“I take it you like it?”

“Remind me to get you a sporty top in those colors.” He sounds near breathless.

“My, Mirage, if i didn’t know any better I’d say you just want us to match.” You tease, laughing at how his engine outright purrs at your words.

Oh, if only you knew how right you were.

Matching, like a couple, like the couple he desperately wants you two to be, loudly claiming you as his.

[love-is-a-pearl]

Final Alola post! Starting with EP125 and controling myself to not go on a tangent over how much I ADORE ASH WITH YOUNGER KIDS AND HOW CUTE HE IS WHEN HE TRIES ACTING ALL MATURE 😭😭😭 to focus on his talk about pokemon gyms and leagues!

SMOOTH sdoiahsidosao

No seriously the way he changes subject here always gets me. Despite everything, talking about that stuff is still hurtful and something he rather avoid.

Now, onto the league.

I know everybody hates Ash vs Hau, but man, that battle has some really good moments. Like the face he makes when he thought he had lost at the best 8. AGAIN!

look, that battle is far from the best, but what it shows us about Ash?? PERFECTION!

How he apologizes to Hau afterwards when the battle continues. How he knows the feel of having the win taken on the last second.

And Hau's reaction after it's all said and done and how he breaks down after Hala compliments him anyway.

How despite Ash doing this for SO LONG no one really told him that. And how that's what hurts the most. When you keep going and going and going but is hard to see the progress. How sometimes you just want someone to aknowledge your hard work.

And those feelings are paralleled in plenty of the battles in this league!

How Mallow vs Lana was all about Mallow doing her best till the very end despite being robbed losing to Lana and how a loss does hurt! Despite it being fun and with a close friend and doing your all, it still hurts. Gladion vs Lillie and Kiawe vs Sophocles too having the same vibes. Even Jessie and James battle fits the theme, with Jessie expecting a win and losing when James battled with full connection with his pokemon.

And then we have Guzma. Oh Guzma

Guzma who tried again and again, all to fail in the end. Just like Ash.

Guzma who thought he was unbeatable until it came crashing down on him. Guzma who lost hope and hid his fears behind a strong façade. Like Ash did in Kalos.

Guzma who took too long to learn to have fun and lost because of that. While Ash got the chance to re-learn that in Alola.

Their parallels... It means everything to me. To use Guzma to tell the story Ash has been living for 20 years and have the catharsis for both be Ash's win in Alola. I love it. I really do.

and we end all with this. His disbelief after beating Gladion will always be my favorite moment of the Alola league.

people love to bitch on BW, but gosh, does it set up Ash's need to get strong in Kalos (to a fault) nicely. Like, there's plenty of moments we can see that the Cameron loss did affect him.

Is interesting how you can even see the essence of "Kalos Ash" in those key moments.

I really wish people tried to understand what BW symbolizes for Ash's growth cause man, I really enjoy the arc he goes throught post DP

[lanafofana]

lana, may i humbly request a teeny bit of rookanis please? with or without spite, up to you

Anything for you Doe! ‘In the hands of a master the simplest of weapons was transformed into an artist’s tool. When he moved, the blade acted as an extension of his very will. Light flickered off the edge like a dance echoed in the perfect choreography of an a—

“Rook.”

The quill made a wet inky smear across the page as it slipped from between Bellara’s startled fingers. Below her perch, the thunk of blade against cutting board seemed a tad more menacing when one realized Spite was on the other end of it.

“Spite. Hello.” Rook’s voice was warm and friendly as always. Privately Bellara marveled that her protagonist boss was so unflappable in the weirdest of situations. “Does Lucanis know that you’re…um. What are you doing?”

“Preparing. Food. Feed the.” Spite growled, low and guttural, as if slipping out of the range of his vocabulary and displeased by it.

“Are you making dinner for everyone?” Rook supplied, her voice slowly approaching as she drew closer to see what Spite had wrought of their provisions.

“Yes,” confirmed Spite.

“I see. That’s, well,” faltered Rook. “I think that’s potentially very nice. Well done trying to help Lucanis with meals. I do have one question though, just a thought. Feel free to not answer.”

“Ask. Question!”

“Do you have any idea what to feed, um, people?”

Spite was silent for a long moment. The sounds of a knife slicing through something and hitting the cutting board started up again, slowly at first and then gaining more speed. And then, finally, Spite said: “Cut into pieces, collect into pot, fire!”

“I see you’ve been paying attention to Lucanis’ cooking,” Rook’s voice noted, amused. “Perhaps I can answer any questions you might have on what types of things you should be cutting into pieces.”

“Types,” grunted Spite.

“Types of food,” said Rook. “Cheese. Bread. Fresh things, you know like, uh, fruits and vegetables. Fish, venison, pork…that mystery jerkey Solas left behind in the back.”

“Mystery…” Spite’s knife paused on the cutting board. “This? Not. Food?”

“No,” said Rook, sounding relieved their impromptu lesson on digestible ingredients had taken root. “No. That’s not food.”

“Start. Over?” Spite demanded, sounding torn between anger and, just detectable in the lilt of his pout, frustration.

“That’s alright. You learned a new thing anyway,” said Rook. “Tell you what, I’ll take care of dinner tonight and next time I’ll teach you something easy you can make everyone. All by yourself if you really want.”

Spite growled.

“Or we can make it a group effort. See if Manfred wants to learn a new recipe besides tea and those little sandwiches.”

“Curiosity doesn’t? Know recipe?”

“I haven’t taught them anything in the kitchen so I don’t really know. Probably not.”

“Rook teach Spite,” declared Spite suddenly. “Not Curiosity!”

“How will Curiosity, I mean Manfred, learn something new then?”

Spite nearly shouted in his excitement. “Spite! Teach! Curiosity!” Spite laughed, a hoarse dry cackle that raised the hairs on the back of Bellara’s neck.

“If you like,” said Rook gamely. “For now, if you grab me some onions from the back I can show you a couple other ways to cut up vegetables.”

The sound of the knife clattering to the table was followed by the retreat of footsteps as Spite retrieved the onions. Bellara leaned out of her hiding spot and could just barely see Rook’s profile as she cleared whatever Spite had been diligently dicing into the garbage bin.

“Rook?” Lucanis, having just emerged from the pantry, blinked sleepily as he looked from the onions in his hands to Rook, confusion bleeding into dismay.

“Spite thought you could use a break from cooking,” Rook said, taking the onions from him and returning to the kitchen. “Might have a point too, you look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lucanis.”

The assassin set his jaw. “I’m fine.”

Rook’s grip on the onions tightened before her shoulders drooped and she sighed. “None of us are fine, Lucanis.” The sound of a knife slicing through onion started up and the crinkle of paper onion skin being discarded followed. “It’s alright to depend on us as much as we depend on you.”

“Are you giving me one of your famous pep talks?”

“Only if it’s working.”

“Hmm,” Lucanis joined Rook in the kitchen. His arms folded while he watched her knife work. “You should take your own advice some time.”

Rook looked at him from the corner of her eye. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t always have to be the one to pick up the slack. Let someone else cook, you’ve been going at full speed ever since—”

“I’m fine.”

“Ah,” said the assassin with a smile Bellara didn’t have to see to know was gracing the curve of his lips. “Of course.”

Rook’s hands stilled and she shot Lucanis an annoyed look. “Point taken, Dellamorte.” She hesitated, head dipping down, and then sighed as if very gently releasing a hidden pressure valve in her chest. “Sometimes I think if I stand in one place too long, my secret will be out.”

Lucanis tilted his head to one side, “And what secret is that?”

A hollow, self deprecating laugh shook loose in the silence. “What an utter fraud I am.”

“Nobody who has seen you do the things you have could think you’re a fraud.”

Rooks hair moved as she shook her head. “I wasn’t meant for this. Leadership? Me? I don’t know what I’m doing and any minute it feels like someone’s going to call my bluff.”

“Nobody questions your leadership,” said Lucanis, still staring at Rook’s face as if waiting for it to crack open and reveal the secrets hidden within.

“Maybe they should,” she retorted.

“Rook.”

“Lucanis,” she parroted.

“Are all Lords of Fortune as insufferable as you are?”

“No,” Rook laughed. “I’m one of a kind.”

“I was already aware of that.” Bellara felt her heart swell to burst and clamped her mouth shut on a squeal before it could escape.

Rook sucked in a breath and finally tilted her head to meet the assassin’s eyes. “Now who’s giving the pep talk?”

“I told you, did I not?” Lucanis closed the distance between them and nuzzled his face into her hair, hands on her hips. “When you doubted yourself, I would be here to remind you how magnificent you are.”

“Magnificent is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Lucanis was adamant. “Magnificent,” he murmured into her hair. “Magnificent,” he said against the warm freckled skin of her neck. With a deft touch he removed the knife from her hand and placed it with the onions. Tugging on her hands Lucanis drew her away from the kitchen and into a soft embrace. “Magnificent,” he promised.

“Sap,” Rook scoffed through a smile. “What are we going to do about dinner?”

Lucanis grinned. “Bellara volunteered.”

From her perch Bellara’s heart stuttered.

“She did?” Rook asked as Lucanis led her away towards the main door.

“She did,” confirmed Lucanis.

From her corner Bellara peered around the edge of her hiding spot and locked eyes with the crow. He winked before ushering Rook out of the building.

[later, in another part of the lighthouse] Emmrich: where the devil are my gloves Manfred: *innocent hiss*

[aychama]

Can we get more catnip story’s?

Alrighty!

Heket nudged her only little brother to listen to what Shamura was saying to them in the carriage.

"-since you three aren't old enough yet you will only be allowed to watch from the sidelines." Shamura finished cleaning the final arrowhead they needed for the hunting competition.

"No need to fret my dear young siblings! You get to watch me and Shamura show off our expertise in catching our prey!" Kallamar beamed with confidence not noticing Shamura's competitive side glance.

"Booo! Boring!" Leshy yelled with a pout, jumping up with the carriage as the sturdy wheels hit a small bump. The newly crowned worm was pretty small and light after all.

“I wanna join too! Let us wield weapons too!” Leshy continued, not caring one bit about the warning Shamura had just given younger ones.

“We could get injured during this hunt.You must listen more carefully brother.” Heket laid back with a straight posture exuding a solemn light. If only one of her four eyes weren't looking for approval from Shamura, she would look like a model lady every noble wished to have as a daughter. 

“Ugh, yuck! You are a frog, why are you trying to act like a swan?” Heket’s red skin darkened “Wha- You little-!” She clutched her dress as she yelled flusteredly. 

A light chuckle sounded from her right. She turned to the mocking sound with slight surprise and annoyance “Don't laugh at me you three eyed freak!”

The chuckling from him stopped as the irritated thumps of Narinder tail took its place.

But before he could fight with his sister for the fifth time today, Kallamar cut in.

“You three are the future kings of your respectful kingdoms. You must learn to not fight with each other for any little word any of you utter can be used against you.” Kallamar lectured as he usually did. 

Teaching his little siblings to be civil had turned out to be more of a hassle than he originally thought it would be, he was the only one born into nobility among his siblings after all so it was only natural that he would be the one to teach them about the rules of courtesy and the heaviness their roles held. 

“If you aren't gonna give us big weapons, at least give us knives so we can play!” Leshy did not relent.

“Dear brother it is not-” Kallamar was cut short with the rustling by his side as Shamura tossed a sheathed hunting knife at the youngest of the five. Despite being eager, Leshy was caught off guard and almost dropped it. Almost.

Everyone's demeanor in the carriage changed into one of alert with Shamura’s move.

“Shamura, why would you give him a knife! It could be dangerous!” Kallamar half got off of his seat as he panicked. Leshy took the knife out of its sheath and started inspecting it with his small hands. Both Heket and Narinder, despite their previous spat, scooched over to look at the knife as well. 

“We are kings brother, we deserve what we want and we must get it no matter what.” Shamura said matter of factly as Kallamar deflated.

“W-well yes. But he is still a child-”

“They will learn to transform their crowns soon anyway brother. They should know their way with real weapons so the transformation goes smoothly.”

“Right…” Kallamat sat down, still feeling a little anxious about leaving a knife in his younger chaotic siblings' hands.

The journey to the hunting grounds continued without issue. 

Well, Leshy almost stabbed Heket in the eye but since it was prevented by Shamura it was all still water.

After arriving at the hunting grounds Kallamar immediately started to socialise with the young nobles children that would be attending the competition while Shamura stayed behind to watch Heket and Leshy being escorted to the waiting area.

Narinder took a little longer to get off the carriage.

“Is something the matter brother?” Shamura asked as they picked up their belongings.

“Hmm… no. I just thought I smelled something.” Narinder said as he rubbed his nose and jumped off the carriage after Shamura.

Narinder was about to follow after Heket and Leshy when Shamura stopped him.

“Brother. I fear our younger siblings will try to pull something. As the oldest of the three, could you guard them?” Shamura asked with a kind voice.

“Sure!” 

With a newfound mission and a feeling of protectiveness of his sister and brother, Narinder gave Shamura a big smile before running off towards the waiting area.

Shamura looked at Narinder’s running form with a smile.

.

.

.

The trumpet was blown with the start of the competition and the whistling arrow was shot, signaling that the first prey had been caught. 

Heket and Leshy were almost forced to sit down with a weirdly on duty feeling Narinder who was looking around. 

The two younger siblings whispered among each other without the knowledge of the feline.

With everyone focused on the competition, talking and some even betting on who would win, the young kings slowly sneaked off of the platform they were on easily since everyone was so energetic about the hunt.

Narinder, to his surprise, didn't notice his siblings missing at first. But when he did, he immediately started searching for the two frantically.

As soon as he turned around the corner for the carts almost empty with weapons, he spotted Leshy’s bushy, wagging tail.

“What the hell are you doing?!-” Narinder ran up to them, yelling and not expecting the puff of smoke to hit his face.

“Ugh!- What?!” he coughed, doubling over in panic more than pain. No, he was not feeling any pain at all.

“Hah! Look! I told you it would work!” He heard his sister exclaim with delight as she peeked over the cart, holding an empty, delicately designed pouch.

Narinder rubbed his eyes. “What was that?”

“Catnip!” Leshy joined with the same excitement as his sister while holding a big crossbow that looked funny in his small hands. He couldn't even balance it properly.

“Where the hell did you find catnip?” Narinder tried to fight off the calming effect. But it was too late, he had already forgotten his worry and anger as his pupils got bigger.

“I brought it from Anura. I'm tired of you guarding me as if I'm a little flower so I came prepared.” Heket said proudly. 

So that's what he smelled in the carriage…

Well, he didn't really care about it right now. He kneeled and then lay down, rubbing his face on the ground where the catnip had scattered to and purring. 

He only faintly heard the laughter and the mocker his little siblings threw at him as they got what they needed from the cart and ran into the hunting grounds…

.

.

.

The news of the Green Crown’s young King getting lightly injured on hunting grounds spread like wildfire amongst the nobles.

Some had even talked about the embarrassing situation Red Crown’s young king was in and his outburst against his younger siblings…

[goodqueenaly]

Does it seem odd that when Robert Arryn brings up the hope of marrying 'Alayne' the issue of them being officially stepsiblings isn't brought up? Does this indicate that it is considered acceptable in the 7K or could it just mean that it doesn't occur to Sansa as they're merely cousins or she doesn't feel that Robert is really able to understand this? After all, Lyonel Hightower had trouble with the Faith over marrying his stepmother. Though if we're looking for real-world analogues, in Islam stepsiblings is permissible but stepparents aren't.

A couple things.

Number one, when Lysa first mentioned the marriage between Robert and Sansa (when the latter was disguised as “Alayne Stone”), she did so knowing full well who “Alayne” really was:

“I … [sic] I am married, my lady.”

“Yes, but soon a widow. Be glad the Imp preferred his whores. It would not be fitting for my son to take that dwarf’s leavings, but as he never touched you … [sic] How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?”

(It goes without saying, of course, that this proposed marriage was never so much as formally announced, much less actively planned, in the brief period between Sansa and Littlefinger’s arrival and Lysa’s murder.)

Number two, whether or not Robert ever learned from his mother that he would marry “Alayne” someday, I wouldn’t take the beliefs of young Robert as any sort of accurate reflection on Westerosi politico-religious statutes or tradition regarding marriage. Having lost essentially the only woman in his life, not to mention the only person who ever showed him anything resembling affection (a full critical review of her parenting notwithstanding), Robert has very clearly taken to Sansa-as-Alayne as a sort of surrogate mother. Being all of eight, not to mention very sheltered and infantalized by his mother, Robert does not have a real, practical idea of what marriage in a Westerosi context means; for Robert, marriage to Sansa-as-Alayne would mean “sleep[ing] in the same bed every night” while Sansa-as-Alayne would “read [him] stories”, “sleep[ing] and kiss[ing] and play[ing] games” with him - that is, essentially what Robert already did with or wanted from Sansa-as-Alayne. Robert isn’t thinking about what the Faith of the Seven or Westerosi law would say about marriage between step-siblings (or, maybe to put it more accurately, a stepson and a bastard daughter); Robert is trying to keep close to Sansa-as-Alayne as the only person giving him some modicum of comfort, stability, and love as his mother had.

Indeed, to that point, Sansa-as-Alayne underlined the impossibility of their union for Robert:

She put a finger to his lips. “I know what you want, but it cannot be. I am no fit wife for you. I am bastard born.”

“I don’t care. I love you best of anyone.”

You are such a little fool. “Your lords bannermen will care. Some call my father upjumped and ambitious. If you were to take me to wife, they would say that he made you do it, that it was no will of yours …[”]

…

Alayne stroked his fingers. “There, my Sweetrobin, be still now.” When the shaking passed, she said, “You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth.”

“No. I want to marry you, Alayne.”

Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble. “My lord is kind to say so.” … “Any child of ours would be baseborn. Only a trueborn child of House Arryn can displace Ser Harrold as your heir. My father will find a proper wife for you, some highborn girl much prettier than me. You’ll hunt and hawk together, and she’ll give you her favor to wear in tournaments. Before long, you will have forgotten me entirely.”

Again, because none of this has ever gone beyond the imaginations of Lysa or Robert, it is impossible to say whether the aristocracy of the Vale, much less anywhere else in Westeros, would have reacted to a betrothal ostensibly between Robert and “Alayne Stone”. (And I say “ostensibly” because even in Littlefinger’s current nuptial scheme, Sansa is going to reveal herself as Sansa Stark, rather than “Alayne Stone” at her wedding to Harry Hardyng.) It is interesting to point out that Sansa-as-Alayne’s argument to Robert isn’t that they can’t marry because his stepfather is (officially) her natural father, but that they can’t marry because this marriage would be seen as too ambitious and tyrannical a move by Littlefinger - not necessarily mutually exclusive ideas, but certainly not synonymous either. That’s not to say Sansa is any more versed in the nuances of Westerosi law and/or the doctrines of the Faith to know whether or not this marriage would also be unlawful in the eyes of man or the Seven, of course, but at bare minimum we can say that Sansa-as-Alayne’s instinct with Robert regarding this marriage is to cite the gulf of rank between them, and the perceived influence of Littlefinger, rather than any idea that such unions are objectively forbidden.

(And, when it comes to Westeros legal-religious tradition, I don’t think GRRM has really put much thought into it, as indeed I’m not sure, for example, what the High Septon could or would have done about Samantha Tarly’s allegedly incestuous marriage. Generally speaking, I don’t think GRRM puts very deep thought into the religious and legal details around rules for marriage, much to my curiosity and sometimes chagrin.)

[xxmooxmooxx]

irritable. ~ s.r. x fem reader.

MDNI 18+ ONLY

- told from spencer’s pov

prompt: Spencer accidentally sees y/n secret nsfw twt account and is struggling dealing with working along side her now.

warnings: angry Spence, nsfwtwt, mentions of sex, sex toys, perv! Spencer if you squint your eyes, age gap, lmk if im missing anything :)

a/n: BLURB! not a v long story. my first Spencer fic AND my first time writing smut. NOW reader and Spencer don’t hookup in this but it’s talked about quite a bit so proceed with caution loves. gimme feed back pls!!!! Lmk if you’d want a pt 2!!!

“i can't fucking do this, y/n. We have a lot of work left to do on this case.” I say getting out of my seat and walking towards the office door. It’s just too much right now. We’ve gotten nowhere close to finding this god awful unsub. Then here is y/n smelling like cocoanut and vanilla. Looking at me… no searching my eyes for answers I don’t have. And her hair? God. It’s down. Unlike most days where she wears it pulled back.

“Spencer! What the fuck? You told me if i needed to confied or talk to someone to go to you? If thats no longer okay then just tell me. You don’t have to talk to me like this.” She says getting out of their chair and stepping in my path to the door.

Shes right. I am being a complete an total ass right now. It’s not her fault. When she started last year I did tell her to come to me and she has taken me up on that offer lots of times and I've never minded it. I don't mind it. At Least I didn’t before… I look down defeated and sigh before looking at her. “You’re right. I apologize. Please, excuse me.” I take a step to the door.

“Reid…” She grabbed my arm looking up at me. “Please. What’s going on?”

I jerked off and came multiple times to your secret twitter account, y/n. I have your body engraved into my brain. I know exactly what i’d have to do, where to touch, how to touch, where to lick and suck now from watching the videos of you playing with yourself. I cant look at you let alone work with you, without wanting to take you into an empty office and showing you all the many things about your perfect fucking body I have learned and memorize. God even now during this stressful case all I can think of is fucking you so hard over this table that you cant remember what you came in here to ask for in the first place. But I can’t say that.

“I’m… fine. Okay? Many daily things in our lives especially in this field can cause irritability, for example: we’ve been on this case for 48 hours, we’ve gotten nowhere close to a profile, no idea how to stop this unsub, exactly how many victims he has so far, which means there's gonna be more innocent people dying. So, if I'm irritable that may be the reason. Now if you excuse me i need to go look the files we found on Amy Cassandra and Olivia Hidmen.” And with that, she let me go and I made my way out.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long week we are finally back home. I avoided y/n as much as I could which is the only way to deal with this until I can figure out how to move on. Then of course… once we get home going out to “split” the teams favorite local bar was suggested. We all agreed to meet up in an hour, giving ourselves time to go home and get ready.

I was sitting at our usual table with Derek and Emily when y/n walked in talking with Hotch. Fuck. me. She was wearing a short, silk, black dress that was hugging her body perfectly. Her hair was down framing her face perfectly and she was wearing her glasses. Last time i saw her glasses, they were on her bed side table in the background of the video she posted, showing off her new toys a sex toy company sent her. My thoughts are interrupted by her looking at me. I can't. I turn to Emily and Derek asking to be excused before walking past y/n and out the bars glass doors.

She’s your coworker, spencer. Not only is she a coworker, shes damn near 10 years younger than you, sees you as a mentor, and trusts you. What the fuck have I done.

“Reid!” i hear yelled from behind me.

No no no no… I turn to see her jogging towards me.

“y/n please go back inside.”

“No.”

“y/n…”

“Spencer, please stop.”

“No. y/n. You. please stop. Leave me alone and go back inside with the others…” I turn to walk away. After a few paces I hear:

“I saw.”

I pause in my tracks. Looking down at my feet. I’m fucked. I take a deep breath before turning and walking back to her. “You saw what?” I say looking down at her. My voice coming out deeper than intended.

“You liking and unliking one of my post on twitter.” She says softly and almost unsure.

I dont break eye contact. I’m frozen. What am i suppose to say to that?

“Spencer, please don’t tell anyone. I’m-”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone about this.”

“Oh… okay…” A few more moments of silence. “I’m really really fucking sorry you saw that, no one i know in person was ever meant to see it. I just do it for fun and…”

‘I cant be having this conversation right now.’ i think to myself as she continues to ramble. “y/n. Stop.”

“... i know youre probably mortified…” she continues.

“Stop.”

“... I just dont wanna lose you-”

“y/n!’ I say louder than intended as i grab her shoulders trying to get her to listen to me. Shes staring wide eyed at me, silent. I losen my grip and lead her to a near by empty stairwell. I let her go and brush her hair off her shoulders and try to straighten the straps of her dress that was underneath my hands.

“Now…” i start calmly. I see her relax more and start looking at me with curiosity. “y/n, you have no reason to be apologoizing to me. You-” i stop myself to think before i let more rambling come out of my mouth. “I should be the one apologizing to you.” I say taking a step back attempting to give her some space.

“For what?” She asked genuinely.

“For invading your privacy. I saw your account and I was intrigued then after a few moments of analizing i realized it was you. I shouldve clicked away immediately but I didn’t, I kept scrolling and looking and I’m so sorry, y/n. You’re an amazing person, agent, and friend and I’m someone you trusted and i-”

“Did you like them?” she asked bluntly looking up at me.

Spencer. Stop. you cannot entertain this.

“Yes.” I answered searching her eyes for any signs of regret or disgust.

None to be found.

She takes a step closer to me making our hight difference extremely noticeable. “Spencer,” she started softly. The sound of my name on her lips going straight to my cock. “Did you touch yourself to me?”

“I did.”

She searches my face almost the same way i did hers moments ago before she yanks me into her by my tie our lips meeting and her pulling away before I could even register what happened. I look at her as if asking if she's sure she wants this before we quickly grab each other crashing our lips together again. Our bodies moving together and our mouths hungry.

“Fuck, I need you closer.” I moan into our kiss before softly pushing her against the wall of the stairwell. My hands roaming her body until they find their way to her beautiful thighs. I yank one of her legs up by her knee taking the opportunity to get my body closer to her. I can feel her hot core against my aching cock. My hands now resting on her ass and I leave kisses along her neck.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you to touch me like this for so long, Spencer.” She moans softly into my hair.

“Is that so?” I ask, looking up at her as I slowly drop down to my knees.

“Oh my god.” She whispers as she realizes my intentions for getting down here.

‘She’s definitely gonna believe in a god when i'm done with her.’ I think to myself as I start leaving kisses along her thighs.

“Y/n??”

We jump at Penelope’s voice we hear from around the corner. FUCK.

I immediately get back up and look at her attempting to straighten her dress and hair up. “We’re just having a conversation. Okay?” I whisper to her searching her eyes trying to keep her calm

“Okay.” She whispers back.

I nod as I take a seat on the steps crossing my arms over my knees in an attempt to hide my boner from Penelope.

“Oh my god! There you two are!” Penelope said relieved once she saw us. “Is everything okay with my two favorite nerds?”

“Yeah, just kinda debriefing the past week. It was a lot for me.” Y/n spoke up.

“Awwww okay pumpkin. If you need to take time to yourself it’s okay, everyone would understand.” She said as she pulled y/n into a hug.

“Yeah that’s probably what i'm gonna do. I need to decompress.” Y/n says in response, hugging our friend back.

“Okay baby cakes.” Garcia responded by pulling away. “What about you, my handsome wonder boy? You okay?”

“Yeah i'm good. Just got a bit overwhelmed. I’ll probably head home as well.” I say in response looking up at her from my seat on the stairs.

“Okay then my loves. I’ll go let them know.” She says as she starts to back up. “Reid, be a gentleman and make sure our sweet y/n gets home safe.” She turns and sends a winks to y/n before turning and making her way back to the bar.

“You um… maybe wanna come over and talk about everything?” I ask looking back to the beautiful woman I had in my arms moments ago.

“I would like that.”

[dykewithbenefits]

I just learned it's possible to get addicted to oestrogens and progesterone, and now I can't stop thinking about secretly putting e in some cute cis boy's food until he's entirely dependent on it.

Maybe he'd start noticing his butt getting bigger, his chest beginning to swell or his face growing more feminine, but I'd just gaslight him into thinking nothing's different:

"What, your ass has always been that big! You're saying you noticed that just now? Are you feeling okay? Maybe you've got low blood sugar? Want me to cook something for you?"

Then, one day, I'd stop messing with his food, and once he'd start getting withdrawals, I'd reveal to him what I've done all this time. He'd be angry at me, sure, but he'd also be so far gone that he'd be reliant on me to get his fix. As the emphatic girl I am, I'd give it to him, but he'd have to do some stuff for me in return.

I'd start dressing him up in pretty skirts and tight booty shorts—I mean, with a butt that bubbly, it'd be a crime to not show it off, right? I'd have him wear slutty little tank tops and a she/her pronoun badge, and I'd do his makeup for him each morning.

It wouldn't be long until he'd look so much like a girl that he'd start getting misgendered in public. The look on his face when he'd get referred to as "ma'am" or "miss" or have guys catcalling him on the street would be priceless. He'd hate it, but he can't stop pumping himself full of hormones, so he'd have no other choice than to simply grit his teeth and get over it as his tits keep growing bigger and his thighs swells into cushions.

I'd make him get implants and bottom surgery, until he'd be virtually indistinguishable from a cis girl—after all, as his enabler, his gender identity and presentation would be wholly up for me to decide—but obviously, nothing would change the fact that he'd still very much be a cis boy at heart. 

Nobody would know except for him and I, and to me, he'd always be my good little girl.

As for him, well, I could only hope he'd learn it too soon enough <3

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.

[yesornopolls]

This is not a yes/no poll but I don’t know who else to consult.

My parents and I are not close. I'm closer with my dad, but he doesn't know about any of my interests due to the way me and my sister were taught about 'privacy' growing up. I am not close with my mum at all and I only talk to her when I have to.

When me and my sister were growing up, we were not told any of our parents' interests/hobbies, and were always told not to look at what people were doing. I think this is what led us to both be so hidden(?) from our parents, and is why this problem exists in the first place.

My dad doesn’t really buy anything for me, nor does he try to learn about my interests (but he will listen when he does learn about them. He likes that I like stuff, he just doesn’t actively seek that information out). My mum is the one who will buy me things, but it’s gotten to the point where she is just buying me junk for the sake of trying to keep a relationship with me and then holding that fact over my head (I have told her to stop, she hasn’t).

I want to buy a few posters for my favourite show for my bedroom at my dads house (my parents are divorced). I currently do not have a credit/debit card as I lost it a few months ago, however I am going to go get a new one on the 18th of this month, but I would preferably like to place the order before school starts again (for reference, all these options are online orders).

I have a few options on how to acquire the posters, and I’m not sure how to go about it.

Ask my mum to buy them for me.

She will buy me things I don’t want related to this show for the next 10 years, even after I inevitably lose interest in it. She’ll also be extremely upset that I’m putting them up at my dad’s house, and not hers. However I don’t care about her opinion on my interests as much.

Ask my dad to buy them for me.

I do not want to do this one, purely because of the completely irrational fear I have that he’ll think the show is weird, or violent (again, completely irrational. He is the biggest nerd you’ll meet, he’s probably even watched the show before and enjoyed it. It’ll just be awkward and I’m an overthinker). His opinion means a lot to me, and although he’s supportive of me in every sense, I think he still views me as a little kid (I’m 18), hence why I’m worried to tell him about my interests. I do want him to know about my interests in the long term though, and I want to be able to tell him things about me and not be scared about it, but I’m not sure if diving headfirst into this is the right way to go about it (for my own sake).

Wait until the 18th and buy them myself.

This one would be fine, but I’m a little worried that my dad will be confused when they show up for me. He would also have to find out about the posters/my interests in a surprise! Kind of way, which is a little awkward and it might hurt his feelings that he wasn’t asked. This will also be after school starts again, which I would prefer to get them before then. However I think this is the option that’ll give me the least anxiety in the short-term, but probably more as I wait for them to arrive.

I have consulted my sister and she is no help whatsoever.

Thank you for reading this behemoth of an ask, and thank you for any advice you might have (and I understand if this is not submitted to the public as it's not a yes/no question).

[july-19th-club]

everybody in the goodreads one-stars dislikes outlander because it's got too much rape and dubcon in it, which is fair and is in fact what turned me off of the show in college. but many of them dont like the sex in this book in a puritanical way and they're WRONG it's not bad because it's sex! it's not even necessarily bad because it's sexualized violence. it's bad because it's poorly contextualized, not justified by the text enough to bear as much repetition as it gets, and neither fits nor deconstructs the genre it's trying to play around with.

like, the marriage/sex/punishment-by-force fantasy is clearly a fetish of gabaldon's, so the book bends over backwards to present opportunities for it whether they make story sense or not, and in so doing gives readers a skewed understanding of the period and location it's simultaneously attempting to do historical fiction in. WHICH WOULD BE FINE IF: this was georgette heyer we were talking about, por ejemplo, and the whole scene was established as the kind of pseudo-history fantasy realm such fetishes often take place in. after all, there's a particular brand of time-tested romance fiction where the whole conceit is a fluttery but undeniable "but you don't understand - i had no other choice!" which allows our heroine the chance to indulge sexually without being considered a slut (see dan lavery's piece on this subject). which i think is what gabaldon's trying to do with the plot contortions that require claire to get married, and then REQUIRE their marriage to be consummated With Witnesses, and then REQUIRE him to beat her in order to maintain standing...etc, etc, etc. a good british woman doesn't want to commit adultery, a good british woman doesn't like it rough, a good british woman doesn't get off on humiliation, etc. which, described that way, almost talks me back into the whole idea.

except the description i just gave is not how it reads in the book. in the book there's no indication that she's performing mental gymnastics to get past her hangups, or that there's some underlying Understanding between characters, author, and reader. it reads like she's married a budding young abuser who claims 'this is normal here' to get what he wants. WHICH brings us to the whole 'savage man-beast...but i WANT him...but he's so violent! but i can TAME him' trope. it's only this side of racist here because the scottish people in this book are white. this man can't be expected to have respectful attitudes, those are modern. and he's from a strong, manly culture! and there's no use looking around for some other kind of guy, because everybody's like that here, and that's history, man. there's a scene in this book where her tarzan in tartan believes that all sex is doggie style and is shocked to learn it isn't. this scene made it into the show.

what im trying to say is. she's both trying to write serious hist fic AND trying to have the protagonist get raped every other page so as to justify the amount of sex in the book. like...i feel insane saying she's doing it wrong when i read carey with gusto, but again, there we are in the 'context' issue. carey's context is that the protagonist is a) a professional sex worker and b) a confirmed masochist, so it's no shock to the reader when she goes to have sex with a patron and he lays into her with a flail. people who don't want BDSM aren't going to be reading Jacqueline Carey. she even has goddamn safewords, for chrissake. and while it absolutely can be argued that the absence of a declared scene in-text IS part of the fantasy for some readers - and must be for at least a few of the outlander fanbase, since people think these books are sexy - there's just too much failure to commit. either claire is into it or she's not, either this is a wish fulfillment kink book or it's hist fic. a better writer might be able to thread that needle in such a way as to keep it both sexy and consistent, but gabaldon's not that writer. her fetishes come off uncomfortably; her details are sometimes wrong enough that even not very historically minded readers point them out and find themselves jarred out of the story.

and...worst of all? she's not at all interested in the time travel aspect of her book, which may not seem like the worst sin here, but let me go out by tying this into its origins. she based the books on doctor who, a show about travel through time and space. rarely do her 1740s characters make it to the 1940s, where the story starts - she doesn't care about the nineteen forties, or later the sixties, after the time skip. they are where stodgy frank is from. they are where claire is exiled after she's torn away from her highland lover! she doesn't care about this timeline except insofar as they constitute a Modern place (but not too modern!) to act as a bland counterweight to the pull of those glorious days of old. the interplay of timelines is never really about culture shock or culture sharing, never really about what it would be like to survive culloden and then find out about the nineteen sixties. not in a funny, lighthearted way; not in a serious, all-implications-delved-into way. in diana gabaldon's time travel, the twentieth century is only there to get away from, to leave for some imagined romantic past where men are real men, women are real women, and small furry creatures from alpha centauri - except, wait. we don't know, do we, if the small furry creatures from alpha centauri are real small furry creatures from alpha centauri. in diana gabaldon's story, the scottish guy doesn't even go anywhere near alpha centaurai. truly there's no fixing this one.

[aishangotome]

[Azel] The Mean Unicorn's Greedy Desire (Bday Story) - Let Me Tell You a Secret About God - His POV

Part 3

Gods are supposed to know everything.

That's what people tend to think, but it's not true.

Silvio: Huh? You don't even know how to celebrate a normal birthday?

A few years ago, Prince Silvio, who had come all the way to Tanzanite for a business discussion, was astonished.

He was so different from the person who had been engaged in a heated debate about new shipping routes just a few minutes ago.

Azel: Unfortunately not. For me, a birthday is a matter of state.

Azel: As a god, I don't celebrate others either. My blessings are a bit heavy for ordinary people.

Silvio: Certainly, considerin' your position, it's not strange...

Silvio: You have expertise in all sorts of fields, enough for me to come all the way here, yet you're ignorant of common sense.

Azel: I have to admit, I'm not interested in it either.

Silvio: Then why did you ask 'bout "how ordinary people celebrate birthdays"?

Azel: No particular reason.

Silvio: You don't wannna say?

Azel: Well, I heard that it's your birthday, Prince Silvio.

Azel: I'm not one to celebrate others, but I should try to win your favor, shouldn't I?

Azel: If I miss a big money opportunity, the name of god will be ruined.

There was no profound reason why he was interested.

He had just "seen" a birthday in a dream the other day.

The way they celebrated and their attitude towards birthdays were completely different from what he knew, and it was just a trivial matter that he brought up in casual conversation to correct the discrepancy in his knowledge.

Silvio: ...Well, whatever. Generally, people celebrate with a birthday cake and presents, don't they?

Silvio: In Benitoite, we add alcohol to that.

Azel: A birthday cake... such a thing exists.

Silvio: They have them in Tanzanite too, right?

Azel: They might, but I've never peeked into an ordinary household's celebration.

Azel: The birthday I know is about listening to people's prayers, giving them blessings, and receiving fine wine and food in return.

Azel: It's just a ritual.

Silvio: ...Somehow...

Silvio: For the first time ever, I feel sorry for ya.

Azel: If you feel sorry for me, please donate money.

Silvio: I'll give ya as much as you want dependin' on your "divination."

(Birthday cake...)

(...I wonder what it's like.)

-

The Apostle: Living God, on this momentous day, I offer my heartfelt gratitude on behalf of the people of Tanzanite.

The Apostle: Blessings to you, who were sent from the moon. May our country's path be blessed with prosperity.

---Several years later, the annual ritual celebrating the god's birth was held as usual.

(...This is so tedious.)

It was a monotonous job, simply looking down at the old man kneeling before the god sitting on the throne.

The king and officials in important positions were standing around, offering prayers to the god with almost comical earnestness and sincerity.

I stifled a yawn behind my pasted-on smile and glanced at the tightly closed screen.

(Is she not here yet?)

-

---A few hours earlier.

Emma: ...What kind of ritual is it that you have after this?

Azel: It's nothing much. It's a simple job where I just have to receive congratulatory words in the throne room.

Emma: ...You have work to do on your birthday?

Azel: That's right. Isn't it pitiful?

The girl from Rhodolite, who had come from a foreign land, furrowed her brows as she measured the ingredients she would probably use for the birthday cake, either unconsciously or intentionally.

Her face, which seemed to say "working on your birthday is unthinkable," probably showed sympathy, just like Prince Silvio.

It was only recently that I learned this was a normal reaction.

(She's a typical do-gooder. I almost feel sorry for her.)

When I ran into her in the city, while I thought I had been found by a troublesome woman, what came to mind was the conversation I had with Prince Silvio a few years ago.

I thought that if it was her, with her ability to judge things with an unbiased perspective, she might be able to let me experience an "ordinary birthday," something I had been curious about...

That thought, and stopping her, was the beginning of it all.

(Good people are good targets in every sense of the word. Poor thing.)

Azel: By the way, the pitiful story continues. There's a party to worship me after the ritual.

Azel: People try to praise me with good intentions and entertain me with fine wine and food, but it's troublesome—no, it's too much for me.

Azel: I'd love to refuse, but it's my birthday, so unless there's a very good reason, people won't let me off the hook.

Azel: Oh, I wish there was a kind-hearted soul somewhere.

Azel: If there was a woman with the most beautiful heart in the small country, she would surely extend a merciful hand to this poor god––

Emma: ...If I get you out of there, will it repay all of today's unreasonable debts?

Azel: Yes, thank you very much.

(See? This is how you get used again.)

The girl from the foreign land makes no attempt to hide her reluctant expression.

In front of the god, even tourists from other countries tend to show reverence and fear the mystery, but she doesn't.

What is reflected in her clear eyes, seemingly untouched by any impurity, is not the god sitting on the ceiling, but a wicked "person."

(There are others like her who are disrespectful, but I still like it. I like that I can act as I please around her.)

Azel: But you agreed more readily than I expected?

Emma: ...Because it's strange, isn't it?

Emma: Why does the birthday person have to do things they don't want to do on their birthday?

Azel: ...........

(I see, that's also "common sense," huh?)

(Birthdays are a day when selfish behavior is allowed, not devotion.)

(It's quite different from my common sense.)

The girl bows her head as if she has come to her senses.

Perhaps she's dutifully thinking that she "denied Tanzanite's culture."

(I don't care about that.)

Emma: I apologize––

Azel: You... do you enjoy it when your own birthday comes around?

I ask to correct the distortion in my perception.

Emma: ...Yes, I enjoy it. My friends celebrate with me every year.

(...Ah, I can picture it.)

Azel: So that's how it is.

Emma: Yes, that's how it is.

(I envy her.)

The conversation comes to a pause, and the girl continues making the birthday cake.

I can't help but follow her movements with my eyes, probably because I'm looking forward to it, unlike my usual self.

(...This year's birthday will be––)

-

Emma: Excuse me, Living God.

Just as I finished the congratulatory address and was about to be escorted to the banquet, the screen opened.

It seemed the girl with the most beautiful heart in the small country couldn't abandon the poor god after all.

I raise a hand to stop the attending soldier who tries to intervene.

Azel: It seems there has been a development with the matter I asked you to look into?

I beckon her to come closer to the throne.

The path surrounded by the country's dignitaries, such as the king and the apostle, must be quite intimidating for a commoner.

But the girl never lowered her gaze.

With a strong gaze and a dignified expression, she walks forward with confidence, so as not to arouse suspicion from those around her.

(What an impressive woman.)

I signal with my finger for the woman in front of me to lean closer to my ear.

She seems to be quick-witted, as she immediately moves close enough that no one else can hear us.

Azel: ...I haven't thought about what happens after this.

Emma: You mean you couldn't come up with anything?

Azel: Your face is known throughout the castle, so you can't disguise yourself as a maid.

Azel: Then what excuse could a mere traveling merchant have to summon the god? That's right, there is none.

Emma: ...You asked me to do this knowing all that?

Azel: Exactly.

(She's not stupid either... Well, I guess the woman who was appointed as Belle couldn't be incompetent.)

With the smile I reluctantly learned in my childhood, I look around again.

Azel: I apologize. I saw a sign of disaster and had her investigate it, but it seems I was right.

Azel: I want to return to the temple quickly and perform a divination, so I'll have to decline the banquet.

Enis: Disaster? Then, should we send soldiers...?

Azel: Her assistance alone is enough.

I rise from the throne and place a hand on the woman's shoulder.

What I felt was a tremor from her nervousness.

(...She really is something.)

Azel: It's rare for me to keep a woman by my side, isn't it? Are you sure you want to interfere with such a rare opportunity?

Enis: ...Well...

The Apostle: Enis, follow the Living God's wishes.

Enis: ...Understood. I pray for your safety.

The sight of all the dignitaries kneeling on the floor at once is comical no matter how many times I see it, and I quickly leave the throne room before a genuine laugh escapes me.

-

Emma: As expected, Prince Azel is silver-tongued. Just like a swindler.

Azel: You're quite the smooth talker yourself, aren't you? It's fine to hold a grudge, but don't forget there's such a thing as slander.

Having finally reached a place where there were no people, the woman seemed to be able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Azel: ...To be honest, I thought you would run away again.

Emma: If you're talking about this afternoon, I did come back properly after running away.

Azel: There's no guarantee that will happen next time, is there?

Emma: I keep my promises. Besides...

Emma: I've decided to celebrate Prince Azel properly today.

(...Even though she had no intention of celebrating when we met by chance.)

(I don't know what kind of change of heart she had...)

(But, thanks to your spirit, the birthday cake I ate for the first time was delicious.)

*flashback to earlier*

Emma: It's done! Birthday Special: Rose-patterned Fruit Tart!

Emma: I got a little carried away and made two cakes instead of one...

Emma: But it's surely just right for a hungry Prince Azel, right?

Emma: Once again, happy birthday!

*back to present*

(...That was the first time I've ever been celebrated like that.)

I learn another ordinary thing, and my divinity is chipped away.

That's more comfortable than anything.

(I'm satisfied. It would be fine to part now, but...)

Seeing the fatigue seeping into the woman's smile, I sigh.

(...I can't just give her nothing in return.)

-

There aren't many things that come to mind as a reward.

I don't know and am not interested in the preferences of a woman from a foreign country... especially one I've just met.

But I do know one thing, the best reward a god can give to a mortal.

Azel: This is far enough.

Emma: What...?

I brought her to this deserted oasis because if anyone saw us, it would cause a huge commotion.

What I'm about to give her is something that is extremely valuable to the people of Tanzanite.

(...Though I've never given it to anyone before.)

I turn to face the woman who bumped into my back when I suddenly stopped.

I brush aside her bangs and, recalling a document I read long ago, lightly kiss her forehead.

(...)

(...I'm starting to regret this now.)

The woman is dumbfounded, moving her mouth open and closed with a silly expression.

But I feel like I've done something just as foolish and stupid, and I forcibly push down the intense shame rising within me behind a smile.

Azel: The god of Tanzanite is a being who protects and guides all people equally.

Azel: Protecting the country in this wasteland is the very meaning of my existence...

Azel: It's normally unthinkable for me to favor an individual, especially a girl from a foreign land.

Azel: But, yes, just for today...

Azel: It wouldn't be bad to lavish blessings as a special service only to those who have offered their congratulations.

According to one theory, those who receive a god's blessing are guaranteed a life free from illness and disaster.

I think it's a ridiculous story, but as far as I can tell from reading all sorts of documents, it seems to be true. I think it's a matter of probability, but there's no evidence to deny the blessing.

(Though I don't understand why this is how the blessing is given...)

It's not that I believe in unrealistic things.

I just thought that the woman who gave me a human celebration deserved such a mystical blessing.

(But this is awkward.)

(Incredibly awkward.)

Because of the bright moon, I can see the woman's flushed cheeks.

It's unbearably embarrassing.

Azel: Well, it doesn't come cheap.

Emma: There's a fee!?

Azel: Of course.

Emma: That's a scam...

Azel: A complaint? You've got guts. It's amusing to criticize a god's blessing.

Emma: .......

As I rattle off a series of words, the woman suddenly bursts into laughter.

Her idiotic expression from a moment ago completely changes, and she starts making an infuriatingly smug face.

Azel: ...What is it?

Emma: Nothing, it's nothing.

(...Damn it...)

(Oh, I know, I know. If I can see your expression...)

(That means you can see mine too, right?)

My shame finally reaches its limit, and I force a smile, though I'm irritated––

Azel: Stop that face.

Emma: Ow, that hurts...!

Even though I pull on her soft cheeks, the smugness doesn't disappear from the woman's face.

That only fuels the heat that won't go away.

Azel: The god will never protect you again. Goodbye.

When I turn my back and try to escape, she immediately grabs my sleeve.

Emma: Please don't say goodbye! I was happy!

Emma: It means that my cake was worthy of a blessing, that it was that much of a celebration for you.

Emma: That blessing just now, was it a thank you for the birthday cake?

(It is... it is, but...)

I put strength into the fingers I place on her cheek again.

Azel: ...That's kind of annoying.

Emma: Ow, that hurts!?

Azel: You're seriously misunderstanding. It's not like I want to thank you.

Azel: I just thought I'd add to your debt since I had the chance.

(No...)

(...Making excuses like an idiot will only make me feel more pathetic.)

I can't even look the woman in the eye anymore.

Emma: ...I-I understand.

Emma: I'll... I'll pretend that's what it is.

Azel: You don't understand at all.

Perhaps I've tormented her cheeks too much, as the woman shows a sign of resistance.

I loosen my grip, but I'm still not satisfied.

Azel: You disrespectful person.

Emma: ...S-Sorry?

Azel: Don't make it a question.

(...Calm down.)

(I'm a grown man. I don't want to be any more pathetic than this.)

(Just be honest. It's a simple task.)

Azel: It's not a thank you, but... it wasn't bad.

Azel: You're the only one who would dare celebrate a god's birthday as a human.

Azel: ...You're the only one, unique to me.

(...)

(...I can't thank her with words after all. Let's part ways.)

I let go of her cheek and turn my back on her for real this time.

Emma: I was also happy to make an important discovery today.

Azel: Doesn't sound worth hearing. Goodbye.

Emma: Prince Azel is actually shy--

(Damn it!)

Emma: Ow! Ow, ow, ow!

Hearing such an outrageous insult, I couldn't help but pull on her cheek.

Azel: Say that again. I'll sue you for insult and throw in a divine punishment as a bonus.

Emma: That's not fair...!

(It can't be helped.)

*flashback to earlier*

Emma: I wasn't trying to feed it to you!

Azel: Well, don't do anything confusing.

Emma: ...Eh?

Azel: ...?

Emma: Did you really misunderstand that?

Azel: I didn't misunderstand. You looked like you wanted to feed me, so I reluctantly played along. For a fee.

Emma: A fee!?

Azel: I need more apples. Offer more. Then I'll waive the feeding fee.

Emma: Please hold the fork properly this time.

Azel: ...Shut up. This is my first time doing this.

*back to present*

Azel: Let me tell you a secret about god.

I raise the corners of my mouth as I pinch her cheek.

Azel: I'm petty.

Emma: That's not a secret!

(It is a secret.)

(...It's only with you that I become this petty.)

.

.

.

FIN

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